Call to Redemption

by Tawny Weber

  The sarcasm was thick enough to walk on.

  “Excuse me,” was all she said, though, as she tried to sidestep him. She had to get out of here.

  “We need to talk.”

  Ignoring his demand, Darby shifted to the left. He countered. She clenched her teeth, but didn’t bother trying to shift to the right. Why give their audience any more of a show than they were already enjoying?

  She flicked a quick glance toward Paul. He was in conversation with the Captain who’d come in with Nic, and the JAG attorney didn’t look happy.

  She assumed from the way he kept squinting his eyes and jerking his head that he didn’t want her speaking with Nic.

  It wasn’t as if she wanted to talk with Nic, but dammit, Paul had pulled her into this case. So she’d handle it the way she wanted.

  Instead of making a scene by shoving Nic aside and scurrying out of the room, she sent Paul a smile and a hint of a shrug.

  “I don’t want to talk with you,” she said quietly, finally meeting Nic’s gaze. “I’m sure you can understand why.”

  “No. Actually, I can’t. We know each other. Pretending we don’t is not only stupid, it’s a lie.” He arched one brow in that sexy challenging way of his. “I don’t lie, Darby. Do you?”

  All the time, she wanted to say she was lying right now, standing here pretending she didn’t want to jump into his arms and wrap herself around him. She’d been lying to herself ever since this case landed on her desk, pretending she could separate her feelings for the man from the crimes he’d purportedly committed. And if anyone asked her how she’d walk away from this case unscathed, she’d flat-out lie and say she’d walk away just fine.

  “Please,” she murmured, glancing at Nic’s face only long enough to note his intense stare. “Get out of my way.”

  “I will. As soon as you clarify a couple of issues for me,” he said in a tone so neutral it was almost friendly.

  Pushing past the emotions dueling it out in her belly, Darby gave him a closer look.

  Shouldn’t he be angry? She studied his face. Really studied it this time. And almost sighed.

  Why was he so gorgeous?

  Unlike his sexy beach-bum look, with the scruffy goatee and ripped jeans, now he was spit-and-polish perfect.

  He was clean-shaven and his glossy black hair was cut close on the sides, just long enough to hint at a curl on the top. His eyes looked even darker without the goatee.

  She’d never been one of those women who went gooey over a man in uniform, but just staring at the way Nic looked in his was enough to make her soften.

  “I really need to go,” she said quietly, wanting to get away from him before she did something stupid.

  Like apologize.

  As if reading her mind, he took a half a step closer and lowered his voice as he asked, “Did you consider the simple courtesy of notifying me beforehand.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  Darby was irritated with herself for wanting to explain how important her career was. She wanted to scream at him for creating the unassailable reputation that her brother had died trying to reach. She wanted to point out that the evidence against him was overwhelming and his culpability clear. She wanted to explain that the stakes were too high, the safety of the country had been jeopardized and lives lost because of the choices he had made.

  But she couldn’t. Not because it’d jeopardize the case, although it might.

  But because standing here, looking into the dark mystery of his eyes, she couldn’t believe a word of it. Not the charges, not the supposition, not the evidence.

  She’d seen the expression on his face when he talked about losing his friend. She’d heard the conviction in his voice when he talked about doing the right thing, about honor being paramount. She’d seen enough bullshit in her life to recognize it when it stood in front of her. But the only thing Nic Savino reeked of was integrity.

  Well, integrity and soap.

  Darby had to stop herself from leaning in a little closer to take a good sniff.

  She told herself that the man was simply skilled at deception. But she couldn’t get her heart to agree. She and her heart were going to have a good, long talk later, she decided.

  “Despite the evidence presented today, I assume you’re trained to follow orders and do your job.” She didn’t need to wait for his response to know he saw where she was going. The faint frown in his eyes said it all.

  “And you’ll do your job to the best of your abilities.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Darby answered anyway.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d say you have a quite a few more abilities in your arsenal than I realized.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  “Could you? Because of the two of us in this room today, only one of us was surprised. Although I have to say, this is a good look for you.”

  He didn’t move, but Nic seemed to take a step back to give her a long intense inspection. Darby tried not to fidget as his gaze traveled from the toes of her T-strap black pumps up her legs to the ladylike hem of her pencil skirt, where it hit just above her knees. The matching ebony jacket was a modified motorcycle style, waist-length, ribbing at the shoulders and black grommets. Because the jacket had an edgy vibe, she’d kept her jewelry mellow, the fat jet beads a vivid contrast to her mandarin-collared white silk shirt.

  Given that she considered herself a woman with a strong sense of style, it’d irritated her to all hell when she’d ended up changing four times this morning. She never worried about the image she presented in court.

  But the image she’d present to Nic had sent her mind reeling. From the look on his face, though, she could have worn angel wings and a halo and he’d still believe she was the devil.

  “For all the ways I imagined seeing you again, this one was nowhere on my list.”

  He’d imagined seeing her again?

  He’d really wanted her to ask about him at the hotel, to get his information and track him down? What would have happened if this case hadn’t come up? If, a few weeks after they were home, they’d gotten in touch and seen each other again.

  Except this case did happen.

  Because he was a criminal.

  And it was going to break her heart to send him to prison for the rest of his life.

  Holy crap, she wanted to yell at herself. Quit being such a girl and get the hell out of here.

  “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed,” she responded. “But as I said, we both have a job to do. I’m not going to apologize for being damn good at mine.”

  From the scowl on Paul’s face, he wasn’t reveling in his success, though. It was hard to tell if it was because it appeared he was being chewed out, or if he was pissed that she had spoken with Nic. Neither option boded well for a smooth, comfortable working relationship, Darby knew.

  He gestured with one finger for her to wait for him.

  She shook her head. Nope. She’d had enough. And she didn’t care if it pissed him off. She was leaving.

  She figured Paul had scored enough points today.

  She knew it was stupid, but she blamed him for the way Nic was looking at her right now. She flat-out resented having her once-in-a-lifetime happy bubble burst into ugly bits.

  So she hitched the strap of her leather messenger bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

  “Ms. Raye.”

  Paul’s voice stopped her when she reached the door. Darby glanced back to see he and Nic’s Captain staring at her.

  “Good job today. Damn good job.”

  Unwilling to trust her voice, Darby merely nodded.

  She had done a good job.

  A damn good one.

  Even Car
son would agree.

  Darby knew she was well on her way to that pretty gold career star.

  She just wished it made her a little happier.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EXHAUSTED, BONE-DEEP and to the soul, Darby let herself into her apartment the following evening. She rubbed one hand over her burning eyes, then tossed her purse on the small bench inside the door and let her messenger bag drop to the floor next to it. The heavy thud of leather was a dull reminder of how much work she’d brought home.

  Ignoring it for now, and perfectly content to ignore it as long as possible, she stepped out of her heels, letting them lie in the short hallway as she padded, barefoot, toward the small living room.

  She didn’t bother with a light. She knew her way, and it wasn’t as if there was much furniture in her place. So it wasn’t a stub of her toe that stopped her in her tracks.

  It was the shiver of warning down her spine.

  Her body tensed. Fingers clenched, she sidled closer to the kitchenette, where she kept a few handy things like knives and frying pans. Before she reached it, the lights flashed on.

  Darby threw one hand up to shield her gaze, and raised the other in a fist. She didn’t lower it when she saw who was standing there. But she did clench her fingers a little tighter.

  “How’d you get in?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m Special Ops. A SEAL. Do you really think my training doesn’t include getting into a locked building?”

  Despite his relaxed stance as he leaned against the far wall, Nic’s smile was anything but friendly, his demeanor anything but casual.

  Darby might have wished seeing him in her apartment didn’t make her nervous. But she wished even more that she didn’t feel sparks of heat under the nerves. Because both pissed her off, she fell back on her usual defense.

  Cocky challenge.

  “Glad to see our government dollars being put to good use.”

  “Are you?”

  “Why do you sound surprised?” And more importantly, why did she feel insulted at his surprise?

  “You’re actively working to defend a criminal guilty of murder and treason. You’re part of a concerted witch hunt that at best is focused on shifting blame, at worse has framed a team of good SEALs who work hard to protect this country.” He arched one brow and, without shifting an inch, seemed to loom over her. “In my book, that’d qualify as a waste of government money. But I suppose lawyers have their own definitions.”

  “Lawyer jokes?” Darby tried for a mocking eye roll but wasn’t sure she pulled it off. “Isn’t that beneath you?”

  “Sweetheart, you have no idea how low I’ll stoop to protect what’s right.”

  She didn’t need his derisive once-over to hammer home that implication. But she did wish like crazy that she hadn’t taken off her shoes.

  The man had seen every inch of her nude body. He’d licked chocolate off her belly, sipped whipped cream from her nipples. He’d given her more orgasms in five days than she’d had in the rest of her life combined.

  It was stupid to feel so naked standing in front of him barefoot. But she did.

  Naked and exposed.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, finally lowering her fist.

  “We have a few things to discuss,” he told her, his shoulder brushing the wall as he shrugged. “I thought you’d prefer the discussion be private.”

  “And rather than ask me to meet you somewhere, you broke into my place? And here I thought you were all about rules and protocols.”

  “Oh, I am. I’m also an expert on assessing a situation, at measuring potential threats and opportunities in order to best strategize a targeted mission outcome.”

  Making as if her stomach wasn’t tied in knots and her hands didn’t want to tremble, Darby rested one hip on the arm of her easy chair, then casually crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a scornful look.

  “I’m a lawyer, Lieutenant. Big words and military jargon don’t intimidate me.”

  “Do you really think I’m worried about intimidating you?” This time his smile was real. And, dammit, just as cocky and charming as she remembered. “I’m simply here to exchange information.”

  “Do you really think I’d ignore the glaring conflict of interest by discussing a pending case with one of the defendants?”

  “So you admit I’m a defendant?”

  Darby laughed. “Is that out of your Interrogation 101 handbook? Lead the witness with simple, obvious questions.”

  “Just thought I’d lay out the facts as we both see them. From my perspective? Fact one—Naval Intelligence has already dismissed this as a bogus case. Fact two—the setup is so obvious all it’d take is a magnifying glass and a deerstalker cap to follow the dots. Fact three—you’re too smart to get dragged into someone else’s political game.” He inclined his head, gesturing for her to show her facts now.

  Darby debated. She could hear Paul’s voice ringing loud and proud in her head. His accusations. His anger over the idea that a bunch of fatheaded ego-fueled hotshots were getting away with a litany of crimes. And, under it all, his jealousy.

  Like Danny.

  She bit her lip against the pain of thinking about her brother and marshaled her thoughts. Emotions wouldn’t serve her. Emotions never served her well.

  “Fact one,” she said, uncrossing her arms to lift a finger in the air. “You might have assumptions, but you don’t know what NI or NCIS concluded or what evidence has been presented. Fact two—you and your team are well versed and smart enough to know how to create a setup within a setup. And fact three—you’ve made mistakes. Big mistakes. And mistakes have to be rectified. One way or another.”

  “Mistakes?” His eyes bored into her, his look so intent that Darby had to wonder if he wasn’t searching her soul and delving into every secret she’d hidden there. “Is that what you call the death of Warrant Officer Powers? He was my man, my friend, my brother. He went down in the line of duty. Duty to the mission that you and your team are trying to dismiss as treason.”

  “In the line of duty? Or on a vigilante mission?”

  “You took the case without that basic information?” Nic gave a scoffing shake of his head. “I thought you were a better attorney than that.”

  “You thought? When was this? While you were romancing me on the beach? Or maybe when you stripping me naked? I seem to recall a little anonymity agreement. Did you recant and forget to tell me?”

  “You know I didn’t. But you did. When, exactly, did you figure out who I was, Darby? Was it that first night? Did you lay out that agreement as a ploy to keep me from realizing you were fishing for something to help with this little case of yours?”

  “You think I slept with you to gather insights for this case?” Darby swallowed hard to keep the bile in her throat from spewing everywhere. “Obviously, you have no idea at all what kind of attorney I am.”

  “Well, let’s see. Based on the evidence so far, I’d say you are so dedicated to your job that you’ll do anything to advance up the ladder. You’ve got talent, enough that your boss believes you can win, despite the obvious fraud at hand. And you’re willing to do anything...absolutely anything to win.” His look was pure challenge. “Even if anything includes refusing to recuse yourself because you want the glory of railroading innocent men on trumped-up charges.”

  “You’re creating conspiracies where none exist,” she said stiffly, not liking his assessment.

  “Hey, we spent a week together. And in between the hot and naked times, we shared our own personal tragedies. Are you honestly telling me that doesn’t say ‘conflict of interest’ to you?”

  “Why would it?” she asked, irritated that he seemed to think he could push her into stepping down. That he could intimidate her into doing something so stupid that it’d sideline
her career at best, destroy it at worst.

  And why?

  Simply because they’d had sex. Darby surreptitiously wiped her damp hands on the sleeves of her jacket.

  Okay, lots and lots of sex. Lots and lots of great sex.

  But that wasn’t the point.

  “I can think of many reasons for you to step off the case.” Looking a lot more comfortable than she felt, Nic leaned against the wall, one ankle over the other. The casual pose did nothing to negate the power emanating from him in huge, angry waves. “We could start with the basics, and debate whether or not Deputy Director Carson would dismiss our little vacation fling as no big deal. There’s a little thing called entrapment. It’s not a biggie in the military, we’re pretty lenient about conning the enemy.”

  Talk about entrapment. Any way she responded to that, he’d be able to use it against her. So Darby availed herself of her right to remain silent and simply arched one eyebrow.

  “Nothing to say? I guess I misjudged you. My impression was that you weren’t the kind to back down from a little healthy debate.”

  “I’m not the kind to be tricked into talking about a pending case, either,” she snapped.

  Nic gave her a long, assessing look, then nodded. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, or of the look he cast around her living room.

  “Just an observation, but I’ve lived in barracks with more personality than this place.” He scanned the empty walls, as if noting the lack of dust catchers. She thought of Grace’s critique the one time she’d visited. No throw pillows, no colorful blankets, no photos. No nothing.

  “You want to talk decorating style?” Giving in to the tangle of confused frustration knotting her up tight, Darby sighed.

  “Hey, you said discussing the case was off-limits. So I’m changing the subject. In that new subject, I have to admit that given my impression on the island, I’d have thought you’d live with a little more style.” He shrugged when she shot him a questioning look. “You dress well. Strong colors that make a specific impression, those girlie things that accent whatever you want accented. Belts or necklaces or whatever. You make an impression.”