Jazz shrugged. “That asshole Yoder kicked me.”
Jessica coughed a little laugh at the typical Jazz response. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” She gave Jessica a cocky grin. “Please. I have my own bodyguard. Now how the hell did you get out of that house? It’s killing me to figure it out.”
Jessica searched the wonderfully familiar face. Funny how she could see flaws in her own, but could never find any in Jazz. “I pretended to be you.”
“What? And Parrish believed you?”
Jessica shook her head, and smiled. “No. I pretended to be you in my head. A ‘what would Jazz do?’ sort of thing.”
Jazz gave her a dubious look. “You know, those drugs, J—they can do things to your brain.”
“My brain is fine.” She took Jazz’s hands and closed them between hers. “I thought I was going to die.” Her voice cracked, and Jazz closed her eyes for a second. “And when I woke up, you were the only memory I had. You.” She squeezed Jazz’s hands tighter. “And you’re the strongest person I know.”
Jazz let out a breath of disbelief.
“Seriously, Jazz. You would never let yourself be a victim; you would have clawed and scratched and fought your way out of that mess.”
“That’s probably true,” Jazz admitted. “But only because I never had your ability to charm my way through life.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “A lot of good that did me. So this time I did exactly what you would have done.”
A smile tilted Jazz’s lips. “This I gotta hear.”
“I walked out the front door.” She grinned at the look she got in return. “Honestly. No one was around. So I just grabbed a sheet and left.”
“Good plan,” Jazz said with a note of respect. “As plans go, that’s an A-plus.”
“A C, if you hadn’t sent in a team of angels to whisk me off to safety.”
Jazz leaned closer for another hug. “I can’t take credit for that. I’ve got a guardian angel of my own.”
Over her shoulder, Jessica saw the tall, long-haired man who’d rescued her. She remembered him immediately. “You must be Alex.”
Jazz’s whole body tightened in Jessica’s arms at the mention of his name. She sat up straighter, and turned to look at him. When she faced Jessica again, her eyes were shining.
“He’s your bodyguard,” Jazz said. “But he’s done a great job of protecting me instead.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Jessica said, taking in his dark good looks and his potent aura. “You must be the lead guardian angel.”
Max snorted, as Dan’s cell phone played “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” The three men exchanged a silent but meaningful look. “Juicy Miss Lucy on the line,” Dan said.
Alex scowled fiercely. “She better have a helluva good explanation.”
“Want to ask her?” Dan held the phone toward Alex as it played the melody again.
“No thanks.” Alex moved closer to the bed. “Let Roper do the honors.”
The other two men left the room as Dan answered his phone.
Alex’s olive-black gaze glimmered over Jazz, then he spoke to Jessica. “Jazz is your real guardian angel, believe me. She’s one dedicated sister.”
Jessica’s eyes filled as she nodded. “I’ve always known that.”
“Nothing could stop her,” he added, his smile full of pride and admiration. “I’ve never seen anyone so single-minded or determined.”
“Stop,” Jazz said, waving a dismissive hand. “We were a team.”
Alex’s grin disappeared and his expression softened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “A good one.”
Jessica looked from one to the other, and realization flashed through her. Stop the presses…Jazz is in love.
As soon as Dan and Max marched back in, Alex knew what they were going to say.
“We’re leaving, Romero,” Max told him, confirming his suspicions. “Lucy’s taken Valerie Yoder back to New York on her plane, and she wants us on the next commercial flight.”
He wasn’t ready to leave yet. Not without another night with Jazz. Another week. Another month. No, even that wouldn’t be nearly enough. “Have a nice trip. Give her my regards.”
“You can do that yourself, ’cause you’re coming with us,” Max told him, turning his attention to Jazz. “Lucy’s arranged for you to stay here in Key West until the hospital releases Jessica, then she’ll send her private plane to take you both back to Miami.”
“I’ll take them to Miami,” Alex said through clenched teeth. “Lucy doesn’t owe anybody anything except an apology. And I’m not going anywhere.” He looked at Jazz, who remained on the bed holding her sister’s hand, her gaze on him. “I’m staying right here,” he assured her.
Max crossed his arms across a massive chest. “Get real, Romero. Lucy already has your next assignment lined up.”
“Then take my place, Max. You can probably handle it—or think you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why? Does it require sensitivity, brains, and good looks?” Alex asked as innocently as possible.
Dan laughed a little. “Actually, Alex, it requires Spanish. The job’s in Cuba. Lucy said she talked to you about it.”
Alex felt the blood drain from his head. So Lucy was going to reward him after all. She must feel pretty guilty about trusting Miles Yoder.
And that meant when it was over, fifteen people could leave that hellhole and live in Miami. With family. And opportunity. And security. Fifteen people who were tied to him by blood. Fifteen people who needed and wanted his protection…a helluva lot more than Jazz Adams did.
He looked at Jazz. “I have to go.”
“I know,” she said quickly. Much too quickly. “I mean, I knew you would.”
“Come outside with me,” he said softly, reaching a hand to her. “Talk to me for a minute.”
Just a minute. Just one stolen kiss in the antiseptic hallways of the Lower Keys Medical Center. But he wasn’t going to leave without telling her….
Damn. He’d rather say it in Spanish.
Max blocked his way to the door. “No time, Romero. We’re leaving for the airport.”
Alex’s lip curled. “Move the hell out of my way before I shoot you.”
“Come on, man.” Dan gave Max a light punch. “Give them five minutes.”
Max took one step to the right but kept his gaze locked on Alex, who closed his hand around Jazz’s and tugged her out the door.
They didn’t speak a word until they were outside. The sun had finally decided to make an appearance, drying the greenery and washing the medical center in blinding whiteness.
Jazz blinked into the sky as they walked toward a bench. Was she fighting tears, or the sun? Who was he kidding? Jazz didn’t cry; she was too tough.
“So. Cuba, huh?” she said, leaning against the back of the bench to face him. Her voice had an unnatural brightness, sounding more like her imitation of Jessica than her real self. “That should be…fun.”
“Guess that depends on your definition of fun.”
She seemed to tighten her grip on the bench behind her, looking up at him with a saucy smile that almost hid the sadness in her eyes. “Want to know my definition of fun?”
He couldn’t resist. “Night swimming?”
“This.”
“This?” Saying good-bye? In front of a hospital?
“This adventure. With you. Dodging bullets, chasing bad guys, arguing and…not arguing. This has been fun.”
A new wave of affection washed over him. “You’re a natural at it.” He put a finger on her lips, loving the softness of them. “Except you have to be careful with that rear end.”
“Excuse me?” She inched back and looked perplexed.
“When you’re attacked from behind, don’t stick your butt into your attacker. I’ve been meaning to tell you that since we met.”
She laughed. “And you just remembered now.”
“I thought we had more time.” He slid his hands ar
ound her waist and tugged her into his chest. “I’m not ready to leave you.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder and sighed. “Me neither.”
“When I get back—” he started.
“I’ll be in San Francisco.” She lifted her chin again. “And then, you’ll go to…Paris or Prague or Geneva.”
He laughed lightly. “I’ll probably bypass Geneva for a while.”
“You be careful, okay?” He could have sworn there was a crack in her fearless voice. “And stay away from your client’s wives.”
“I’m not interested in them, Jazz.”
She winked at him. “But they are—”
“No.” He shook his head. “No jokes.” He dipped his head closer to her. “Querida,” he muttered against her mouth. “Mi amor.”
She slid her hands up his arms and locked them behind his neck. “Then no more Spanish, either. I hate that I can’t understand you.”
“Just ask. I’ll tell you what I said.”
“Okay. What did you say the first time we made love?”
He exhaled with a laugh, and shook his head. “I don’t remember what I said.”
“You said, ‘Tenemos todo eternidad.’”
We have all eternity. Of course, that’s not what he meant when he said it. It was an expression, a sensual, lyrical way of slowing your lover down so you don’t explode too soon. But she wouldn’t understand that. Or the fact that he couldn’t promise eternity any more than he could promise when—or if—he’d be back from Cuba.
“It doesn’t have a literal translation.”
“Of course not. Because we don’t have eternity.” At his surprised look, she added, “I found Spanish phrases on the Internet.”
Of course she did. “Jazz…I never…” What could he say? He’d never met anyone like her? He’d never felt like this? He’d never meant to fall in love?
“Take risks,” she finished for him, a mix of tease and disappointment in her expression. “And you are looking straight into the face of the biggest risk you’ve ever known.”
She was right. He had no response for that.
“And I never want help,” she added. “And that’s what you live to do.”
Right again.
The hospital doors whooshed open behind him, and Max Roper marched outside to suck up the sunshine with his very presence. Alex groaned in frustration, and Jazz glanced over her shoulder to see who’d caused it.
“Why do you hate him so much?” she asked.
He just shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What were you saying?”
“I was saying tenemos todo eternidad.” She threaded her fingers into his hair. “Not.”
Right then, more than anything in the world, he wished they did have eternity. But life and responsibilities and commitments made eternity seem impossible.
Jazz tightened her hold around Alex’s shoulders. “Good-bye, Alejandro.”
Longing made him ache inside. Or was that ache caused by the idea of taking a risk with her? She was the one who insisted she wanted no one to take care of her, and he was a man who knew no other way to express his love.
The power struggle would never end. “Jazz…I have a very strange life, an unpredictable, insane, dangerous—”
She silenced him with her fingertips to his lips. “I know all that.” Reaching up on her toes, she replaced her fingers with her lips. “I’ll never forget you. You’re my bodyguard.”
He hated the pain in his chest almost as much as he hated Roper’s unsubtle throat-clearing. He lowered his head and captured her mouth for one long, last soulful taste of her sweet, soft mouth. He could feel her heart hammer against his chest, their rhythm, as always, utterly in sync.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, then grazed her cheek with his lips and settled his mouth in the warmth of her ear. “Jasmine,” he whispered, purposely using the Spanish pronunciation of her name. “Te llevo en mi alma.”
He would carry her in his soul. That was the closest he could come to admitting how he felt, and how he felt could only be expressed in Spanish.
Her eyes darkened with a question, and her own emotions. Without waiting for her response, he followed Roper into the parking lot. He didn’t look back. Because if he had, he would forget his family, his promises, his responsibilities. And then he’d probably take the biggest risk of his life—and tell her he loved her.
Chapter
Nineteen
V alerie Yoder was one of the few people who’d ever seen Lucy cry. She’d been there during the dark times. It was Valerie’s hand that Lucy squeezed when the first shovelfuls of dirt were dumped onto the tiny casket…and Valerie’s three-inch designer heel that had crushed the prescription bottle that contained Lucy’s only escape from pain and guilt. Lucy owed Valerie Yoder her very life.
That was the only possible explanation for her flawed character judgment and blind trust of Miles Yoder.
She fluffed a small cashmere blanket around Valerie’s bare feet. “Get under the covers, Val. You’ll feel better.”
Valerie just shook her head, curling into a fetal position, blinking at nothing. “What was I thinking when I married him, Luce?”
Lucy remembered the rapturous look on Valerie’s face as she’d floated down the aisle to wed her prince. “You weren’t thinking. You were feeling.”
“I had no idea he was so…controlled by wealth.”
“Fear,” Lucy corrected.
Val let out an unladylike snort. “Miles wasn’t afraid of anything.”
Not true, Lucy thought as she crossed the guest bedroom to adjust the drapes and bring a little sunshine into Valerie’s world. Death made things so…dark. “He was terrified to ever be poor again. He told you about his childhood. We should have known.” Her world was built on her ability to read people, yet she’d misread Miles so badly. She’d gotten past the initial anger, but guilt still tightened her chest.
“He told me he worked so hard so I could have everything I wanted.” Valerie shook her head. “That very day in Miami, right before we met you at the Biltmore, he said it again.”
“Then you went shopping to get everything you want, and he stole off on his helicopter to make sure it happened.” God, why hadn’t she seen behind his mask?
She couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that ever again. Last time, it had cost her everything that mattered in the world.
Valerie released a long, pained breath. “What am I going to do, Luce? I pulled away from almost everyone I’ve ever known to live in his world. He loathed everyone. But he always said he loved you.”
He used me. “For now, you’ll do what you have to, Val. The old one foot in front of the other, as you know.” Lucy sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Valerie’s silky, golden hair. Despite her sorrow, Val looked as strong and bright and young as ever. Neither one of them had yet hit forty, but they’d been through two lifetimes already. “Maybe you’ll reconsider my offer to join the Bullet Catchers.”
“You’ll actually forgive me for convincing you to help Miles and hire someone to spy on Kimball Parrish? You would never have taken that job if I hadn’t persuaded you.”
“I won’t let you take the blame for my shortsightedness. I need brilliant, committed people more than ever in the Bullet Catchers. I’m expanding the business to include covert surveillance, and you’re a genius at gaining access and getting information.”
Valerie smiled sadly at that. “But not character assessment.”
“We all make mistakes, hon. Come work for me and we’ll have fun.”
Valerie pulled the cover higher, but her mouth curled into the first smile Lucy had seen in hours, if not days. “We’ll see. Now go, Luce. Those men are in your library waiting for you.”
“They can wait.”
“You’re procrastinating and that’s not like you. Go, tell them you made a bad call. They deserve to hear it from you.”
Oh, she’d made more than a bad call. She’d risked their lives, and others. “I hate
it when you’re right.” Lucy leaned over and kissed Val’s forehead. “Think about my offer. You’re a rare talent, Valerie Yoder.”
“Brooks.”
Lucy chuckle softly. “Didn’t take long to unload that name.”
“I never liked Yoder.” Valerie gave her a push off the bed. “Go face your troops. Own up to your mistakes. Be their fearless leader.”
Lucy left the room with a wry smile. Fearless? Hah.
In the library, each of the men was occupied as his personality dictated.
Dan roamed between the massive picture windows, drinking in the late autumn views that painted the Hudson River Valley in indigo and fiery gold, his gaze farther away than the horizon.
Max stood stone still, his arms across his expansive chest, staring straight ahead; his expression revealed nothing.
Alex lounged on her Napoleon III salon settee drinking coffee.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” she said, striding toward her mammoth-sized writing table. Her heart hadn’t thumped like this in years. Six years, to be precise. “I made a grave error in character judgment,” she continued as she pulled out her chair, looking at each of them. “I’m very sorry.”
Alex sat up, clattering his cup and saucer onto the side table. Leaning forward, he casually rested his elbows on his knees, belying the ferocity that bubbled just under the surface.
“Nobody’s perfect, Luce.” His voice was rich with irony and accusations. “Even you.”
She acknowledged the dig. “I trusted him. And, worse, I entered into an arrangement with him and—”
“Didn’t tell me.” Alex finished the sentence. “The breach of trust isn’t between you and Miles, Luce. It’s between you and me. And all of us.”
For once, Max didn’t contradict him. And Dan stood perfectly still.
Lucy swallowed, nodding. “My friendship with Valerie Yoder is deep and full of…history.” She closed her eyes. “I did something I rarely do. I let myself be guided by my heart and not my head. I hope it’s a lesson to all of you.”
She’d only done that once before. Absently, she smoothed her snow white strand of hair.
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