06 Double Danger

by Dee Davis

  She knew it was time for the truth, but he was already shouldering the blame for Ryan’s death, and she hated the idea of adding to his burden. He didn’t deserve that. And she knew that he’d blame himself for what had happened to her for exactly the same reason he held himself responsible for Ryan’s death.

  Simon was an honorable man.

  “It’s just too much, too soon. I was afraid you’d hurt me again. And I couldn’t deal with that. Not now. Not after Ryan…” She almost said too much, but caught herself, instead taking a long sip of bourbon.

  “I hurt you?” He sounded puzzled. And she almost laughed. Something that had been so much a part of her daily thoughts had meant so little to him he’d completely forgotten.

  “Yes. After the night when we first…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “In college. You and I, we…”

  “Oh, my God, you’re talking about ten years ago? But you—” He broke off, shaking his head, clearly not sure how to deal with what she was saying.

  “I was what?” she asked, her throat tightening, heart pounding.

  “You were with Ryan. We never should have… I mean… Jesus, J.J., I…” Pain and remorse and regret played across his face like an emotional marquee.

  “But we did. And it was…” It was her turn to trail off, tears pricking the backs of her eyes.

  “Fucking amazing,” he finished for her. “I remember.”

  “But you picked Ryan,” she said, clenching her fists to keep from crying. Angry that she was still so locked in the past.

  “What the hell are you talking about? You picked Ryan. You married him.”

  “Because you acted like it hadn’t meant anything. You blew me off.”

  “I didn’t blow you off,” he said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he stared down into the depths of his glass. “I walked away. You were drunk. And I took advantage of you. I was being a total prick.”

  “I wasn’t that drunk. And did it never occur to you that maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of? Specifically by you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t. Like I said, you guys were dating. He was in love with you, J.J. And I thought you were in love with him.”

  “Even after we were together?”

  “Yes. What else was I to think? You stayed with him. Hell, you married him.”

  “Because you rejected me. When we made love, it meant something to me. And when you acted like it never happened, it tore me apart.” Again she was saying more than she wanted to, but he was dredging up old wounds, and she was angry.

  “Jesus, J.J.,” he said. He was still using her old name, but somehow in the moment, it didn’t rankle quite as much.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s all screwed up. And it was my fault. I just—God, you’d think this would be easier after all this time, but I cared about you so damn much. It was always you, Simon.”

  “Then why marry Ryan?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you didn’t want me, and he did. I was young and really insecure. More so than you can possibly imagine. And he was always so attentive. He made me feel important. Like I was the center of his world. And I’d never felt like that before. But then, that night, when you and I were together, even though I knew what we were doing was wrong, it felt so damn right. I’d wanted you for so long.”

  “I wanted you too.” He said the words so softly she almost didn’t hear them. “But Ryan was my best friend.”

  “And so he got everything he wanted. And we…” she cut herself off, still not willing to share the worst of it with him, the need to protect him—to protect herself—so powerful it overrode everything else.

  “Talk to me, J.J.,” he said, his eyes full of questions. “I understand that I hurt you. But it was a long time ago, and we’re together now. We’ve been given a second chance. And yet, you still want to walk away. I think I deserve to know why.”

  “I told you, it’s too soon. I gave up a lot when I got married.” At least that much was the truth. “And I just found myself again. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m not asking you to change. I think you’re pretty fucking amazing just the way you are.”

  “You say that now, but guys like you expect your women to fall in line. Follow the rules. Live according to the military code. And I’m just not sure I’m willing to do that anymore.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Guys like me?” Jillian stepped back, his anger almost palpable, but she forced herself to hold her ground. She wasn’t going to back down for anyone ever again.

  “Military men.”

  “So what? You’re lumping us all together?”

  “No, I… it’s just…” God, she was digging herself a hole there was no escaping from.

  “Talk to me.” He reached for her hands, but she pulled away, too agitated to let him soothe her. “Was it something else that I did?” The anger was gone now, his voice colored with dismay and regret.

  She couldn’t stand it. None of this was his fault. At least not directly. “No. Simon, it wasn’t you. It was Ryan.”

  “Ryan?” If the moment hadn’t been so serious, his surprise would have made her laugh.

  “My life with Ryan was hell, okay? Complete and absolute hell. And there’s a part of me that’s glad he’s dead. And I feel so damn guilty about it that most of the time I want to crawl in a hole and die.”

  “J.J., I don’t understand.” He looked almost as confused as she felt.

  “Jillian,” she said, automatically, “I’m not J.J. anymore.”

  “Okay,” he said softly. “Jillian. Talk to me sweetheart. Give me the chance to understand.”

  “I tried that five years ago, and you didn’t even bother to call me back.”

  For a moment he looked totally confused, then understanding dawned. “We were shipping out. I couldn’t call. Besides, I was determined to keep my distance. I still cared about you. A lot. And I didn’t want my feelings to mess things up for you and Ryan.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “If you only knew how impossible that would have been.”

  “So tell me what happened.”

  She lifted her head on a sigh. “But you and Ryan were so close, and I…” She trailed off, words failing.

  “Ryan is dead, Jillian. Whatever it is you have to say, it can’t hurt him anymore. So just tell me.”

  She pulled in a fortifying breath, accepting that he wasn’t going to let it go. Knowing that it would be easier for him to understand her decision if he knew the full truth. All of it.

  “Ryan had issues. I think he always did. In the beginning, it was jealousy. Even before we started dating, he was possessive. And he wasn’t very forgiving if he thought I was even looking at someone else.”

  “Did he know about what happened? With us that night, I mean?”

  “I think so. At least I know he hated it when we were together. Especially when we were alone. But we never really talked about it. And once I made up my mind to marry him, I thought it would get better.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “He was always looking over my shoulder. He didn’t want me to do anything without him. And when I’d try to do something on my own, he’d find a way to sabotage it. To keep me home with him. At first I thought it was sweet. I mean, what girl doesn’t want to be cherished? But little by little, I realized everyone else was gone from my life. Even you disappeared.”

  “J.J.—Jillian—you have to know that I had no idea. I only stayed away because I thought it was for the best.”

  “I know. And I’m sure Ryan found ways to make you believe that was true.” She took another sip from her drink, needing fortification. “Anyway, I got a reprieve, you guys deployed for the first time. And I convinced myself that the whole thing had been my imagination. That I just needed to work harder at my marriage, to make him understand that I was loyal and that I loved him.”

  She leaned back
against the sofa, memories threatening, the pain, both physical and emotional, still with her, an unending reminder of everything that had gone wrong. “But after you guys got back from that first tour, it was worse. He was worse. Different. War changes a person. I know that. I saw it firsthand with my dad.”

  “He was in the Army, right? A Ranger?”

  “Yeah. Although I never saw that as a good thing. My dad was a volatile guy by nature. And he always had a tendency to take it out on my mom. But after he’d spent a couple of tours on the front lines, he got worse. It was mainly verbal… I don’t know that he ever actually hit her, but—”

  “Oh, my God, Jillian, are you saying…” His hands clenched as he took in the enormity of what she was telling him.

  She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Ryan hit me.”

  “Starting after Iraq?”

  “More or less.” She shrugged, unable to look him in the eyes. No matter how many times she’d been told it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t shake the idea that she’d made it happen somehow. “He hit me once before we were married. But we were fighting, and he was so sorry after the fact. But then after we moved to the base, it was like I couldn’t do anything right. He’d just get angrier and angrier, and then he’d… he’d… hit me.”

  “But I never saw any sign. I never even knew there were problems.”

  “Mostly because you weren’t around. But also because he played the perfect husband when we were with other people. He didn’t want anyone to know and neither did I. Especially not you. I was so ashamed.” She winced with the memory.

  “I’m the one who should have been ashamed. I should have known. Here I’ve been going on about our amazing connection, and I couldn’t see what was happening right in front of me.” He shook his head, his hands still clenched, his eyes filled with disbelief. “He always talked about you. About how much he loved you. About how you were his whole world.”

  “I think he did love me. In his own way. But something inside him was broken. And going to war only made it worse.”

  “And did you love him?” he asked, the question catching her by surprise.

  She paused for a moment, ordering her thoughts. “I was really young. I don’t know that I truly understood what loving someone really meant. But I suppose, on some level, I did love him. Or at least the man I thought he was. And I tried to be a good wife. It just wasn’t enough. And he didn’t know how to deal with the rage. So he took it out on me.”

  “And it kept getting worse.”

  “Yes. Every time he’d come home on leave, he was a little quicker to rile. And his anger became more violent.”

  “And you think it might have been worsened by PTSD.”

  “The thought crossed my mind, but he wouldn’t even entertain the idea. I think he was afraid they’d drum him out of the SEALs.”

  “He was probably right,” Simon said.

  “Being in the SEALs meant everything to him. But even if they’d been okay with it, I don’t think he’d have gone for help. He didn’t believe he was the problem. As far as he was concerned, it was all my fault. And after a while I started believing that, too.” The tears were falling in earnest now, dripping off her nose.

  “And when you reached out to me, I wasn’t there.”

  She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “It had been a particularly bad fight. He… he pushed me down the stairs. I hit my head really hard and broke my wrist. And I knew then that if I didn’t get out, sooner or later, he was going to kill me. Only I was so ashamed and so afraid. I didn’t know what to do. So I called you.”

  “And I was so busy trying not to deal with my feelings, I left you out there on your own. I feel like such an ass.”

  “You had no idea what was going on,” she said, surprised to find she wasn’t angry at him any longer. “And even if you had, I don’t know that it would have played out any different. I was going to tell him I was leaving when he came back from this last tour… only he didn’t come back. And then everyone was going on and on about what a hero he was.”

  “And you knew differently.”

  “I was so confused. I mean, on the one hand, he was a hero. He died saving those women. But on the other hand…”

  “He hit you.”

  “Not exactly the easiest of paradoxes.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me then?” He reached for her hands, and this time she didn’t pull away.

  “You had your injury. And your career. And besides,” she allowed herself a little smile, “I was still angry at you.”

  “And I thought it was because you blamed me for his death. God, Jillian, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She released a breath, feeling as if a weight had been lifted. She wiped away her tears. And then his head jerked up, his gaze colliding with hers.

  “When you flinched—the day I caught you by surprise in here—you thought I was going to hit you. You were afraid of me.”

  “In the moment, yes,” she said, hating the look of shock on his face, “I was afraid. But it was just a reaction. It wasn’t about you.”

  “But that’s why you wanted to end things. You’re scared that I’m going to do what Ryan did. That because I’ve been over there, and seen what I’ve seen, that I’ll eventually take that out on you.”

  “Maybe. Yeah, I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But you also have to know that in my heart I know that you’d never hurt me. Not intentionally. Not like that.”

  “So then—” He shook his head, clearly confused.

  “I wanted to end things because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of making the same kind of mistake. Afraid of trusting my choices and finding out that I’m wrong. I barely survived Ryan, Simon, I can’t risk that happening to me again.” She sucked in a breath, lifting her chin, knowing that now was the time for complete honesty. No matter the consequences.

  “And most important,” she stared down at her hands, her heart pounding, “I’m afraid that whatever this is you feel for me—whatever is happening between us now—that knowing the truth about me will kill it. That you’ll be as disgusted with me as I am with myself. I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder. I let him take everything from me.”

  “Look at me,” he said, cupping her face with his hands. “Jillian, look at me. What happened to you wasn’t your fault. And nothing you’ve told me changes the way I feel about you. I let you go once because I was young and stupid. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go again. If it takes fifty years for you to be sure you can believe that, then so be it, I’ll be here waiting. I’ll give you all the space you need, but I am not walking away again.”

  She searched his eyes, recognizing suddenly that this was one of those moments when a single decision had the power to shift their entire lives forever.

  “I don’t need space,” she said, fighting against her battling emotions. “At least not right now.”

  “So what do you need?” he asked, his fingers warm against her cheeks.

  “You,” she whispered, “I need you.”

  CHAPTER 20

  You’re sure?” Simon whispered, his body already tightening with need. Nothing she had said tonight had changed the way he felt about her. In fact, if anything, he only cared about her more. As a girl, she’d been witty and idealistic. Beautiful inside and out. But only a wisp of the woman she’d become. Strong, resilient, a force to be reckoned with—the reality of the woman even more intoxicating than the memory of the girl.

  Her gaze collided with his, her eyes hungry. “I want you,” she repeated, on a soft exhalation of breath.

  For a moment, they stood absolutely still, the only sound in the room the rise and fall of their breathing. And then with a strangled moan, she threw herself at him, pressing against him, twining her fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

  When it came, the kiss was like an explosion, heat rocketing through him with the power of fission. Wh
at was it with this woman? She touched him, and everything disintegrated in the path of his overwhelming desire for her. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her again. And being with her the past two nights had only ramped up his need.

  He trailed kisses along the line of her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. She trembled at the touch, and he smiled, then moved his mouth lower, his tongue circling one taut nipple beneath the thin material of her camisole.

  She sighed, arching her back, offering herself to him. He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, her nipples beading into little balls, his mind going into overdrive as the lamplight washed against her skin.

  Then with a crooked smile, she returned the favor, undoing the buttons on his shirt, her fingers grazing the skin beneath. Finally, she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his chest, the friction sending blood to his groin, his penis throbbing in anticipation. Then her lips found his again, her kiss a wicked combination of come-on and surrender. He opened his mouth, welcoming her inside, using touch as a silent language, neither advancing nor retreating but instead joining together in a tempestuous dance of emotion and sensation.

  His hands moved in slow, languid circles across her back, the silky feel of her skin adding fuel to his rising passion. With a groan, he pushed her backward toward the table by the wall, lifting her so that her legs straddled the corner, his mouth crushing hers, drinking her in, his need for her laid bare. She pulled him closer, clearly wanting him as much as he wanted her.

  He trailed hot kisses down her neck to the valley between her breasts, and then slowly, he shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, biting softly, her answering moan sending liquid heat coursing through his groin. He circled her aureole with his tongue, then drew it farther into his mouth, sucking until she pleaded with him for more.

  Happy to comply, he slid his hands under the elastic of her sweats and panties, caressing the soft skin at the juncture of her thighs.

  “Oh, God, Simon,” she whispered, her voice shaking with need. “Give me more. Please.”