She shook her head in dismay when the silence wore on. He was worse than she had imagined. Dammit, this was all her fault. He’d warned her nothing could come of it, but she’d blithely gone along and done it anyway. Luke Gianetti may very well be a lost cause. And the thought of that had sheer frustration pumping through her veins.
There had been stark terror in his eyes when he’d realized they’d forgotten to use a condom. The package had been inches away from them both times. Yet she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. Jillian wasn’t insulted by his fear, only saddened. She probably should have been more concerned about having unprotected sex, but found she simply couldn’t work up a head of steam for it. She knew there’d be no risk of pregnancy. And somehow Luke didn’t strike her as the type of man to sleep around. She was more upset by the fact that he was so bloody furious with himself…and with her, too.
“How can you be so brave and so willing to die for a cause you believe in, yet so frightened of the least little expression of emotion? It won’t kill you, you know.”
“I’m not gonna listen to this. You think by spending four days with me that somehow you know what makes me tick? You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough after four days to know that you’re a wonderful, considerate man.”
“If you think that—” he laughed derisively “—honey, you don’t know anything.”
“I know that you love children, that is, if you’d let yourself love them. And that they love you back. I know that underneath that strong, gruff exterior you’re kind and gentle.”
“Look, let’s clarify something here. I’m nice to your kids because it’s easier that way. I’m stuck with you and you’re stuck with me. If I could be a father, which I can’t, I would be a terrible one. I have a dangerous job. One that requires me to be away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes months. And I’m not willing to change any of that. Not for you. Not for your kids.”
“Have I asked you to change?”
He snorted. “No, but you would. My wife thought she could handle it, too. Then I come home one day and find her dead.” His voice grew colder, quieter. “Not dead from an accident. Linda chose dying over living with me. Not divorce. Death.”
“Her death must have been awful for you. I can only imagine—”
“You can’t begin to imagine,” he interrupted. “That’s how wonderful a guy I am. I ruined her life. You stick around long enough, I’ll ruin yours, too.”
“Did you ever, just once, think she might be to blame? She was a grown woman, Luke, fully responsible for her own actions.”
That stopped him in his tracks. If she could have seen his face, she knew his expression would have scared her to death. But this could very well be the only chance she would ever get to offer her opinion. She swallowed her fear and continued.
“Did you ever think maybe she was weak? That instead of admitting she had a problem, she chose to blame you instead?”
“You don’t know anything about it,” he said, his voice rigid with resentment.
“She was drowning, Luke. But she didn’t want you to save her. She wanted to hold you under with her. It was easier to blame you for her unhappiness. Then she wouldn’t have to try to fix it herself. She wanted to hurt you…because she was hurting.”
“That’s enough. I don’t need your dime-store analysis. I accept full responsibility for what happened. I killed Linda. Me!” He swore viciously when he bumped into the corner of her bed. “I know it was my fault. If I’d quit my job when she asked me to, she’d still be alive.”
“And would you be happy if you’d let her manipulate you? If she’d forced you to change into something you’re not? Would you still be together under those circumstances?” Jilly clutched the blankets to her chest. She knew he’d never hurt her with his fists, but he could slice her down with his words if he chose to.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? I never should have gotten married in the first place. I made the mistake of thinking you could have everything. Well, I learned the hard way that you can’t. I don’t need anyone and I don’t want anyone needing me.”
He strode to the door and jerked it open. “I’ve got a job to do. This discussion is over.”
“Murph, thank God you’re here.” Luke bounded down the steps of the narrow porch. He’d spent the remaining few hours of the night outside, away from the claustrophobic cabin and away from Jillian. He watched his friend grab a shotgun from the trunk. Murphy slung it over his shoulder to make room for the box of provisions he had perched in one arm.
His partner had arrived in the nick of time. If Luke had spent one more second analyzing how he felt about Jillian, he would go freaking nuts. And it was getting a little awkward staying out on the porch. If the kids weren’t up yet, they would be soon. He should be inside helping, not hiding out on the porch.
“You know, instead of watchin’ me, you could help with some of this stuff.”
“But it’s more fun to watch you.” He sauntered down to the car and grabbed the box from his friend. He’d decided during the night to let Murphy take over Jillian’s protection. That way he’d be able to keep his distance without hurting her feelings. His partner would act as a buffer between them.
“Jesus. What happened to you? You look like shit.”
Luke held up his arm and winced at the twinge of pain, grateful that it wasn’t his shooting arm. “Shot again. Petrie, or one of his guys, nicked me. It’s still pretty sore.”
“I wasn’t talkin’ about your arm. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Murphy did a slow double take and then grinned. “You finally got some, didn’t you? Mary Poppins proved to be too much for your vow of celibacy, eh? I knew you wouldn’t last long. Not the way you were droolin’ over her.”
His heart started pounding and he wasn’t quite sure whether he was more angry about the insult to Jilly or the fact that he’d been so easy to read. “Shut up, you idiot. Do I talk about you and Lucy that way?”
“Lucy?” Murphy shifted his load so he could get a good look at him. “Damn. You’re serious about this one? You thinkin’ a’ marrying this girl?”
“Damn, Murphy. That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He felt the beads of sweat start to form on his forehead. He was definitely not up to a verbal boxing match with his partner. Not after the night he’d had. He’d lost Round One to Jilly. Her words had etched into his brain and, as hard as he’d tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said.
His partner chuckled. “Well, what did you mean?”
Hell if he knew. Jilly’d voiced thoughts about Linda he’d been too ashamed to admit. It had crossed his mind that she’d been manipulating him. As a result, along with the guilt he’d felt over his dead wife, there’d been a residue of smoldering anger toward her, as well. She’d never wanted to go for counseling, steadfastly clinging to the belief that he was the sole cause of their marital problems. Her only solution had been for him to quit—for him to change—for him to give up everything. After a few years he’d sincerely doubted that any action on his part would have pleased her.
“Can we please talk about anything else? Like maybe what the hell’s goin’ down with this op?”
“Yeah, all right. But you’re more fun.” Murphy set the box on the bottom step of the porch.
He forced back a sigh of relief. “What happened? We get him?” He didn’t really hold out any hope that Sloan and his supplier would walk into the poorly set trap.
“Okay. Here’s the rundown. Sloan was a no-show. Big surprise there. He’s the freakin’ Invisible Man. Petrie’s disappeared. Joe’s still on our side. He’s runnin’ the slug from your ass through ballistics. Might have something when he gets here later.”
“I thought we were giving that bullet to someone outside the agency?”
“We don’t have that luxury, my friend. We’ve got to trust somebody.”
“And you think Joe’s on our side?”
“Well, h
e didn’t shoot me last night. That says something. The last thing we need is to get paranoid.” Murphy scratched his chin and looked thoughtful. “Not that I’m expecting any surprises from ballistics. Sloan hasn’t made many mistakes so far. I can’t imagine we’ll get lucky.”
“Anything on the leak?”
Murphy shook his head. “And if that ain’t enough bad news for you, I’ve got some more. Duncan’s pissed at you, my friend. Big-time pissed. He’s on his way down here. Said he’ll be here around noon.”
“Perfect. What the hell will that accomplish?”
“He wants this resolved. Said you’ve dragged it out for too long.”
“Like this mess is my fault? It was inside leaks that got us here in the first place.” He kicked a pinecone and watched it skitter across the soft mossy ground. He turned back to face his friend. “I’m starting to think we were made four days ago—when the building went up with us inside it. The whole thing felt wrong.” A sudden thought made his blood run cold. “Where was Petrie during that mess?”
“No dice.” Murphy shook his head. “I thought of that, too, so I checked on it. He wasn’t even in the area. He got sent down from Charlotte two days ago.”
“Then who leaked our safe house location?”
“Hell if I know. Duncan ain’t too concerned about the leak—”
“Well he should be,” Luke interrupted.
“He figures we can handle that in-house. He’s pissed about her.” Murphy tipped his head in the direction of the cabin door. “What the hell were you holdin’ out for? You shoulda let Duncan know about Jilly.”
Luke fought to hold on to his temper. “Let him know what? He knew I had four people in protective custody. Names, ages, sex. What’d he turn up on her? A parking ticket?”
The rich baritone laugh rumbled up from the depths of Murphy’s chest and, under normal circumstances, it was a contagious sound. When Danny Murphy started laughing, you couldn’t help but join in. Except this time. This time, Luke had a hard time not taking a swing at him.
“You really don’t know?”
“No, but I have the feeling you’re gonna tell me soon or in about five seconds you’re gonna lose all your teeth.”
“Duncan got his ass chewed out this morning by the SAC, who got his ass chewed by the director himself. And the director got reamed by State.”
“The director? What the hell for?” Luke felt his gut go to DEFCON 5. He had the sinking feeling his career was about to implode. Damn if he knew why.
“The British consulate has been swarmin’ the place.”
“Yeah, she’s British. Big deal. Duncan knew all about it. What happened? Her mother finally pitch a fit?”
“That’s puttin’ it mildly. The old lady had a meltdown. Apparently, Jilly forgot to call home.”
“Last I checked, she was over twenty-one,” he argued. “From what I’ve gathered, her mother told her she was on her own. She refused to help. She left Jilly by herself to fly over here, bury Annie and adopt her kids.”
“Well, G-Man, the duchess has apparently had a slight change of heart.”
“Duchess?”
“Yeah. A duchess. Not ten feet away from here. Your lady love is friggin’ royalty.”
Luke shook his head in disgust. “What are you talking about? She’s going to work for Dartmouth College as a librarian or something.”
“Guess again, G. Her sister, the murdered one, was named Annie.”
“Yeah, I know,” Luke said impatiently. “Annie Moseby, remember? We had this conversation yesterday? You said you were too busy to look into it?”
“Uh-huh. That changed in a hurry, too. Wanna know Annie Moseby’s official name?”
He tried to dispel the impending sense of doom that clutched his stomach. “Well, go ahead,” he said irritably.
“Lady Anna Rose Winthrop Moseby, Duchess of Sussex.” Murphy grinned and bent at the waist, performing a low bow for his partner.
Luke continued to shake his head in spite of the sledgehammer shock that had just nailed him in the chest. No way. No freakin’ way. If that were true about Annie, then…
Sweet Jesus. Then Lady Jillian really was Lady Jillian. He heard a roaring sound in his ears and immediately felt the blood rush from his head. He quickly sat on the bottom step. It was either that or collapse.
“Then who’s…you mean Jilly’s really—”
“Lady Jillian Marie Winthrop Moseby. Did you know she’s thirty-ninth in line for the British throne?” Murphy had the nerve to smile. “Yup. Who woulda thought? You’re really moving up in the world, G. You just slept with a freakin’ duchess.”
“Shut up, Murphy. Not another word about her.” He gritted his teeth against the verbal abuse he wanted to sling at his friend and swallowed hard around the hot burst of anger that threatened to crush his chest. He launched himself off the steps and strode down to the car.
A duchess. What the hell had she been playing him for? What could she possibly have gained by lying? Unless she’d been out to humiliate him just for the fun of it. Miss High Society out for a stroll with a lowly commoner. Maybe she just liked the idea of getting it on with the pool boy. Her comments came rushing back to him all at once: how she’d spoken of finally being free to make her own decisions, about breaking free from her mother and the man she’d chosen for Jilly to marry.
Damn, she was probably supposed to have an arranged marriage. She’d mentioned that her schedule was planned from morning until night. But he’d taken her remarks in stride. Everyone he knew was overcommitted. Most people had too much going on in their lives to enjoy anything. None of those comments added together would have remotely suggested she was freaking royalty. She’d deliberately withheld the information.
His brain pounded viciously inside his skull and he took a deep breath. God damn. She sure hadn’t acted like royalty. Whatever she was, he couldn’t fault her for being a snob. In fact, she’d been the polar opposite. Jillian was the most down-to-earth woman he’d ever known.
He shouldn’t care that she’d played him. They’d agreed to no strings. Hell, he’d practically insulted her after they’d made love—when he’d bluntly told her it was just sex. And she’d been okay. He knew her feelings were hurt, but she hadn’t tried to change his mind. She hadn’t pleaded, hadn’t tried to use sex as her bargaining tool.
Only an hour ago he’d been freaked out by the thought that Jilly might care. He’d been afraid she’d push for something more, that she’d beg him for some kind of relationship. He’d been worried he’d have to hurt her, that he’d be forced to say no. While an even bigger part of him had been afraid he’d say yes.
And when the conversation turned difficult, he’d been the one to run away. He’d kept his anger at Linda well hidden behind a screen of guilt. For too many years it had fueled him and kept him company. It had become his excuse for not taking chances. Letting go of it now meant he’d be free to try again with someone new. Releasing his guilt meant risking himself all over again. And where would that get him? What did a DEA agent from Chicago have to offer that would be good enough for a damn duchess?
What a joke. All the while, Jillian had wanted nothing more from him. It really had been “just sex” for her. Luke closed his eyes and willed away the pain, his chest aching with something alarmingly close to despair. This was a perfect example of what went wrong when you let your guard down. He’d let himself get emotionally attached to her and the kids. It was all the proof he needed that he wasn’t meant for a relationship. Caring made him weak. Need would make him do stupid things.
This was a valuable lesson. He’d get over her. He’d get over the kids. And then he’d be good for another decade.
Why, then, did it feel as though the bottom had just fallen out? He tried to summon a reserve of anger to cover for the pain, but couldn’t seem to find anything but anguish. And he knew the reason why. He’d known it for days. Hell, he’d known it from the very start. He wanted her, dammit. He wanted the flaky, f
iery, stubborn free spirit he’d spent the last several days trying to run away from.
He wanted Jilly.
Forever.
“Yo, G? You okay, man?” Murphy huffed down the hill after him.
Luke glanced up and cringed when he saw the sympathy in his partner’s eyes. God, he was pathetic. If Murphy could see it, then Jillian surely would, too. And he would never allow that to happen. It was one thing to be humiliated, but he’d be damned to the fires of hell before he’d let her see that she’d gotten to him.
“I’m fine. Let’s get to work.” Finally he felt the anger begin to pump through him. Anger was good. That he could handle. Bottled-up rage would work far better than hurt. He was gonna end this thing today, one way or another. And then he was gonna take a long, long vacation. There were a million women out there. Once he’d had a few of them, Lady Jillian Moseby would be nothing to him. Nothing except a distant memory.
Jillian glanced up from making the bed when she heard voices on the front porch. Samuel and James bounded off the bed, still in their clothes from the previous night.
Danny Murphy was back and he was involved in an intense debate with Luke. “Are you sure you wanna do it this way?” Murphy’s voice sounded more than just a bit skeptical. His eyes met hers briefly and he flashed a smile. “Hey, Jilly.”
“Good morning, Mr. Murphy.”
“I’m positive. You can handle the protection detail from here,” Luke explained. “The mood I’m in, I don’t want to get within twenty feet of Duncan. This thing has been mishandled from the start and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand here and take a lecture from that asshole.”
“That’s Sir Asshole,” Murphy corrected with a grin. He must have sensed Jillian’s curiosity because he winked in her general direction. “Luke’s got a problem with our ASAC.”
“Is that the same thing as the SAC he spoke of earlier?”
“Close. Duncan is the Assistant Special Agent in Charge. For this op, it means he’s the boss.”
“I see. And Luke doesn’t like him?” She noticed that the subject of their conversation was carefully avoiding any sort of contact with her, including making eye contact. She wondered how he would react if she walked over to the table where he was cleaning and loading a deadly looking gun and threw her arms around his neck. What would Agent Heartthrob do if she dropped into his lap and gave him a resounding kiss? Jilly suppressed a smile and refocused her attention on his partner.
For Her Protection Page 19
