by Joni Hahn
Not that Tristan wasn’t loveable. Beneath that tough, indifferent exterior lived a generous, romantic, witty man. His touch on her skin had been reverent, his teasing lighthearted, his satisfaction second to hers. She could remember every second of his meticulous, bone-melting kisses, every slide of his fingertips along her arm, every brush of his lips on her face.
Rachel threw back the covers and sat on the side of the bed. The room spun wildly. The whiskey alone may have saved her a hangover but mixing it with champagne had been a mistake.
Rising from the bed, she turned and nearly ran right into him. She gasped as heat shot through her naked body and settled in her face. He held a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other but otherwise, stood gloriously nude not six inches in front of her. Rachel grabbed the comforter off the bed and covered herself.
He gave her a raised brow.
“I’ve got the headache from hell. You’ve got to be miserable.”
Nodding, she took the care package from his hands and tried to pass. He blocked her way.
“Please let me pass.”
His finger skimmed her cheek in a feather light touch. She flinched away from him.
Letting out a deep breath, Tristan turned and walked into the living room.
Thank you, God.
Dropping the comforter on the bed, Rachel rushed into the bathroom to take a shower. Maybe she’d feel better about all of this once she got his scent off her skin. She could feel him, smell him, taste him. Everywhere.
With haste, she brushed her teeth with the extra toothbrush she’d found in the cabinet yesterday. Jumping in the shower, she scrubbed her skin under the hot water, wanting to erase every trace of Tristan from her body. The sight of her engagement ring made her want to bury her head in the sand and never come out.
Admit it, Monroe, Cody means nothing to you.
Turning off the shower, Rachel covered her face with a towel. It was true. Last night had proven he meant absolutely nothing to her. How could she have ever considered marrying him?
Drying off, Rachel donned her wedding garments. When she got back today, she’d return the ring to Cody. She couldn’t marry him, no matter how many bills they owed or how many jobs she had to work. Maybe Aidan could help more, now that he worked for D.I.R.E. Judging by the looks of this place, their agents made good money.
She just couldn’t think about how they went about it.
Studying her appearance in the mirror, Rachel decided if she ever did get married, she would not have a monstrous dress like this. Although it looked beautiful, she would never put her and her husband through the chore of trying to take it off on their honeymoon.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, hoping against hope that Tristan wouldn’t be standing there waiting for her. The room remained as she’d left it, except for the high heels she’d worn at the wedding. Tristan had placed them on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Sitting on the mattress, Rachel slipped the shoes on her feet. She sighed. Tristan really had been attentive this morning, trying to vacate the room before she woke, bringing her ibuprofen for her headache, and resurrecting her shoes.
And, he made love like a superhero rock star.
“Are you ready?”
He stood fresh from his own shower in jeans and a black Bon Jovi t-shirt. He’d resumed the same stoic expression he’d carried prior to their trip last night. It was back to business as usual.
A ridiculous, stupid sadness swept through her. It could’ve all been so beautiful under different circumstances. And, no matter what he might have said to her, it wouldn’t have been the right thing to say.
Nodding, she preceded Tristan out to the patio. Taking her hand, he led her down the steps to the beach. Turning around, he held open his arms wide without meeting her eyes.
Rachel wanted to cry.
Wrapping her arms around him, she inhaled his familiar, masculine scent one last time. She felt him press his forefinger to the scanner behind her back. As the plasma hid the beach from her sight forever, he placed a chaste kiss on top of her head.
Chapter 5
The smell of crude oil invaded Rachel’s nose. She heard the squeak of the loose blade on her ceiling fan and felt the loose board in her hardwood floor.
They’d landed in her living room.
“You’re home.”
The sound of Aidan’s voice brought reality crashing down on Rachel. Her home should have been a comfort but, thanks to her brother, she had a huge mess on her hands that she had to straighten out. The sooner she got her life back to normal, the sooner she could feel… alone, stuck.
“Yes, we are home.”
She stepped away from Tristan without a backward glance. Lifting her chin, she met her brother’s questioning gaze.
“I’m sure Tristan is ready to ditch me and get back to his vacation.”
Frowning, Aidan glanced back and forth between her and Tristan. “Yeah Jacobs, I owe you one.” He held out his hand for a shake.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Tristan take his hand. “You owe me a helluva lot more than one.”
Rachel frowned. What was that supposed to mean? He got hot, wild sex, for goodness sake.
“Hell, I knew that was coming.” Aidan grinned.
Tristan nodded towards her. “You have Brewster covered?”
He gave a heavy sigh. “He’s going to give me trouble but yeah, I can handle him.”
“Once she returns his ring, he should get the message.”
Rachel whipped around to glare at Tristan. “Who said I was returning the ring?” Even though, technically, she was.
Tristan glared at her. “Rachel, you’re returning the ring.”
Hands on hips, she said, “Since when do you have a say in what I do?”
She swallowed hard. Why did she say that? What if he brought up what they had done last night, all night long?
“If you want to go there, we can go there.”
“Hey.” Aidan stepped between them. “You two really don’t get along, do you?”
Rachel stared into Tristan’s long-lashed, indigo eyes and knew he thought of last night, just as she did. Heat bloomed in her face.
“Tristan, thanks for the offer, but we’ll figure out something.” Aidan slapped him on the back.
“Rachel, don’t be stubborn about this,” Tristan said in a low voice.
She lifted her chin again. “I’ll do what I think is right.”
He gave a sharp, succinct curse. “Suit yourself.” Turning away from her, he told Aidan, “Good luck with this one. See you in the field.”
Stepping back a couple of steps, he disappeared.
Rachel released a breath. Great relief warred with that ridiculous sadness in her chest. For some reason, she felt bereft now, unsafe.
What a ludicrous feeling. Her brother stood right next to her.
“I’ve never seen you treat someone that way, Rach.” Squinting his eyes, Aidan studied her.
I’ve never slept with a man I just met, either.
“Well, I’ve… never been in the company of a professional hit man before.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. “He told me what D.I.R.E. does and how you’re going to be part of the organization. Are you going to be a special agent like the men who killed Dad?”
“So that’s what this is about.” He blew out a breath. “Rachel, we’re soldiers. Death comes with the territory. It’s not something we want to do.”
“Don’t patronize me, Aidan. He told me you could be hired to take out people.”
He slipped his hands in his trouser pockets. “That’s true, but not just anyone. It’s usually a terrorist, mob boss, serial killer – someone like that. We don’t take out electronics store owners, Sis. We eliminate men like the ones that killed Dad.”
Tears swam in her eyes. Okay, that was it. This talk about her dad and the events of the last twenty-four hours h
ad driven her to the brink. She had to find some peace somewhere or she would go mad.
“I need to go to church.” She turned to walk in her bedroom. “I can make the noon service.”
“I’ll go with you.” Aidan plopped down on her couch and turned on the television. His phone rang. “I wouldn’t put it past Cody to kidnap you himself.”
#####
Twenty minutes later, Tristan shifted his black, Hennessey Venom GT convertible into third as he traveled down North Shore Road in Trunk Bay. He had to get away from the house.
The sight of the clothes she wore folded neatly on the bathroom counter had made his chest burn. His bedroom smelled like orchids and sex, and his batting cage was completely out of the question. So, he’d jumped in one of his cars and hit the road, hoping to clear his mind.
Then Mitchell had to call and chew him out. Now, he felt like teleporting to the German Autobahn.
“What do you mean, what the hell, Mitchell?”
Tristan held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. He wanted to rip the damned thing from the dash. Rachel infuriated him. After he and Aidan had gone to great lengths to prevent that wedding, and after she had given Tristan the best freaking sex of his life, he knew she had no desire to marry Brewster.
Rachel Monroe doesn’t concern you anymore. Let it go.
“You act like solid hydrogen grows on trees,” Mitchell growled through his armband. “What were you doing last night?”
Spending time with a woman so beyond me I could never hope to be good enough.
“Just enjoying my vacation. I think I’m entitled to a few perks considering my workload.”
“I thought something had malfunctioned. Damn, Rome, Paris and Scotland? At night?”
Yes, and it had been worth every freaking minute.
“Fewer tourists. I can get around easier.”
Mitchell sighed. “Let us know the next time you do that so we have a heads up.”
Tristan swerved into oncoming traffic to pass a slow-moving car. “What? So you can tell me ‘no’?”
“Like that would stop you.”
True.
“Get your rest. I’m going to need you in top form next week.”
“Anything new on Naylor’s sale?”
“Not according to our sources. What bothers me is that we can’t get a lead on the buyers. No one has a clue who they are. If that weapons technology gets into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous. Whoever they are, you can be sure they’ll bring heavy protection.”
“Sounds like a party.”
“Thirty million in antique gold coin for state-of-the-art weapons design? I’d say that’s a helluva party.”
Antique gold coins? Who dealt in antique gold when bank transfers were a matter of a few mouse clicks?
He’d be there, heavy protection or not. Stopping bad guys was his specialty. Danger worked beside him daily to keep him employed. He’d never be out of work.
Besides, what did he have to lose? He had nothing waiting for him back home.
“See you in a few days, Mitchell. Until then, I’m on vacation. Don’t call me.” He disconnected.
The wind rustled Tristan’s hair as he drove down the road. What did he have to lose, really?
Let’s see, he stood on the brink of losing his only friend because once Aidan found out Tristan slept with Rachel, he would royally skewer him.
You slept with a beautiful, good-hearted woman when she was most vulnerable, knowing it could go nowhere. No boy scout of the year award for you, after all.
She hated him. He got that. Frankly, he didn’t blame her. He hated himself most of the time.
Slowing, Tristan downshifted into a market parking lot. He would miss the company. He hadn’t spent time like that with anyone since his SEAL team went out the night before his discharge. Those bastards hadn’t looked, smelled, or laughed like Rachel had last night.
Tristan rubbed his eyes behind his aviator sunglasses. Maybe he should go out tonight and pick up a woman. He’d never had trouble doing that. He’d just always felt bad leaving without getting her number.
He blew out a breath. How did he do that knowing the sex wouldn’t be nearly as good as it was with Rachel?
Last night, she’d accepted him for who he was, had set aside all of the abilities and powers that defined him to the world and loved him as a man, as someone that mattered to her.
Although he knew a night of lovemaking with a stranger went against her moral fiber, Tristan felt that he had mattered, that no other man would have sufficed.
Maybe he only kidded himself. Either way, he was no good for her.
Aidan’s phone number popped up on the car dash. Tristan’s heart raced. Had something happened already?
He pushed a button on the steering wheel. “Don’t give me bad news, Monroe.”
“That depends on how you look at it. Mitchell called me in.”
Tristan frowned at the dash. “And?”
“I mean like, right now. He wants me at D.I.R.E. ASAP.”
Oh, hell no. “What? You want a ride?”
“No, smart ass.” Aidan cleared his throat. “I want you to watch Rachel.”
Are you out of your mind? I just betrayed you by sleeping with her.
“Hell Aidan, does the word vacation mean anything to you?”
“I know, I know. But you’re the only one I trust.”
Tristan leaned back his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hell Jacobs, I don’t think there’s any limit to what Cody might pull. He’s hell bent on marrying her now, for some reason. I’m afraid he’ll take her and elope.”
So let her. If she wanted to be stubborn about it all, she deserved what she got.
Tristan sighed as he looked at the empty cars in the lot. No, she didn’t deserve that. Rachel was the best person he knew. She deserved the white picket fence and all that came with it.
If he were honest with himself, he wanted to see her again. Hell, he couldn’t quit thinking about her. The idea of spending the rest of his vacation alone didn’t appeal to him anymore, anyway.
He would have to act the bodyguard. There could be no drinking, no travel, no talking and no crying.
Please God, none of that.
And most definitely, no sex. He would not sleep with her again.
“Dammit, Aidan...”
“You know how serious this is.”
He did. Dammit. “I’ll be wheels up in fifteen.”
Aidan let out a breath. “Thanks. And, make sure Cody doesn’t come around anymore. If you can do that before Mom gets home on Friday, we’ll be home free.”
Oh, he’d take care of Brewster. No problem.
Staying away from Rachel for five days – that would be the real challenge.
Chapter 6
“You can’t leave me here with this mess, Aidan.”
Or him.
Just when Rachel thought she’d gotten rid of one humiliation in her life, she walked out of her bedroom to find Tristan standing in the middle of her living room, looking way too handsome and appealing for her peace of mind.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she walked in. A permanent blush consumed her body.
“I have to go, Rachel. It’s my job.” Turning to Tristan, he said, “Just stick close to her, stay out of her bedroom, and try to get along.”
That blush just turned into third degree burns.
“Aidan, I’m in the room.” Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.
Tristan finally looked away from her to frown at Aidan. “If you don’t trust me, then go screw yourself. I’m outta here.” He reached for his armband.
Yes.
Her brother held up his hand. “Hold up. If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be here, Jacobs.” He glanced back and forth between them. “You won’t kill each other, will you?”
No, but I’ll kill you if you walk out of here. How could he do this to her?
Tristan folded his arms over his chest.
His muscular shoulders looked enormous.
“I think I can restrain myself.”
“Rachel?”
Ugh. “I’m not sure…”
Tristan gave her a half smile that made her toes curl.
She sighed aloud. “You can’t interfere in my life, Tris.”
He raised a brow. Aidan frowned.
Oh shoot. She’d called him by the nickname she’d given him last night.
“You won’t know I’m here.”
She eyed Tristan from the top of his gorgeous black hair, over his vast collection of muscles encased in a black t-shirt and snug-fitting jeans, down to the toes of his boots. Yeah, right. She was supposed to live with him for a week and not remember how he touched her, kissed her and made love to her?
He lived the life of a super-agent. He faced danger twenty-four seven and had married his job. Dwelling on their incredible night together would get her nothing but a broken heart and loads of worry.
Rachel, you haven’t even broken your engagement to Cody yet.
“If you’re staying, super soldier, you’d better change. We’re going to church.”
His eyes bugged out. “Church?”
Aidan grinned. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Rachel never misses church on Sundays.”
#####
Tristan went around to open Rachel’s pickup door. Damn, she looked beautiful today. Her purple, sleeveless dress fell to her knees and hugged her perfect curves. The high heel sandals she wore made her legs go on forever. She had pulled her thick, shiny hair into a long ponytail high on her head, her face covered in a natural coat of makeup.
Her blue truck, on the other hand, had seen better days and held on by threads. The clutch was shot and the transmission struggled to get into third. Luckily, the church was close by and the need to go faster hadn’t come into play.
“Hey.”
A cute brunette in a white blouse and black pants walked up and hugged Rachel. A stocky man with a blond receding hairline and moustache stood behind her holding a young boy of about three or so. The boy stared at Tristan with eyes like softballs.
