Full Circle

by Carol Caiton

  Frowning, he walked across the carpet toward his desk. He could be wrong. Probably was wrong. How small could the world be?

  But just a couple weeks ago Simon had asked for a deep background on Jessica Breckenridge. And today he and Jessica had driven here together in his car. Which meant they were comfortable in one another's company, right? Sure looked that way. So what the hell was Simon doing making nice with Hannah's sister . . . a sister named Jessica who just the fuck happened to look like a sixteen-year-old prom queen?

  "Have a seat," he said, then walked around to sit behind his desk.

  On the way, curiosity got the better of him so he unfolded the piece of paper Simon had passed to him and took a quick glance.

  FALKNER, Kyle Edison

  What the fuck?

  Easing himself down onto his chair, he refolded the paper and tried to act normal. How did Simon know Kyle? Through RUSH? And what had Kyle done to make Simon want some deep background on him?

  Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the little blonde as she sat down. Was this little sweetheart at the center of it all? And if so, how was this gonna play out when they left his office and she came face-to-face with Kyle out in the kitchen?

  Clearing his throat, he slipped the folded piece of paper into his top desk drawer.

  "So, Jessica, what can I do for you?"

  She settled a purse on her lap that was just about as big as she was. Okay, he was exaggerating. But women sure liked to carry around a lot of shit—like maybe they were afraid they'd get stranded somewhere and better have all the essentials on hand.

  "I would like you to investigate someone for me." She reached into an outer pocket of her purse. "This is all the information I can give you, but it should be enough."

  Another folded piece of paper.

  "How far back do you want me to go?" he asked, reaching across the desk to take it from her. "And how deep?"

  She thought about that for a minute then said, "Five years I think. And I'd like everything you can uncover."

  Maybe she was checking out the bastard who had murdered her father. Or maybe his son.

  "Do you wanna know what he ate for breakfast five years ago today?" he asked, just so she'd know how deep he could go.

  "And lunch," she answered without a blink.

  Ooookay. The lady meant business. He unfolded the piece of paper.

  Falkner, Kyle

  He looked up sharply. Then he brought his eyes back to the paper.

  Born in Philadelphia of the United States

  Philadelphia of the United States? He kept reading.

  Policeman – Philadelphia – Quit (?) Last year (?)

  Age – 29 (?)

  Member of RUSH – his file will have better details

  What the hell was going on that two people in the space of thirty seconds wanted deep background on Kyle?

  It was pretty damn clear now that Jessica Breckenridge was the little prom queen in question. But why did she want to investigate Kyle? And why go back five years? What had he done to make her—

  "What the hell are you doing here?"

  Michael froze at the sound of Simon's voice. Then he shot up out of his chair.

  Three seconds flat took him around the desk and out the door. Three more and he was in the kitchen.

  Kyle, standing beside Rachel, looked about as mean as Michael had ever seen him, his eyes glinting with dangerous patience. And Rachel looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two men.

  Michael strolled past Simon, then brushed around Kyle to get to her. He slipped an arm around her waist and whispered, "Everything's cool, baby."

  "Kyle???"

  The little prom queen had followed him and was standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock.

  "Jessica?"

  Kyle stared at her, an expression on his face that was just as incredulous. Then his eyes flew to Simon. Back to Jessica. Then to Simon again. "You sonofabitch," he growled.

  "Kyle!"

  He turned on the little blonde. "Are you here with him?" he demanded. Then he scowled. "What the fuck are you doing here at all?"

  "Kyle! Stop it!"

  "Answer me."

  Simon took a step forward, but Michael saw it and gave a curt shake of his head. He mouthed the word No and got a dark frown in return. But Simon paused and held back.

  "I'm here for business reasons," the girl told Kyle. Her chin went up in the air, all haughty, and Michael smiled. She had attitude. Good for her. "Simon brought me," she finished.

  "Simon brought you."

  "Yes."

  "For business reasons."

  "Yes."

  "What kind of business?" He started walking toward her.

  "That isn't your concern."

  Midway across the kitchen he stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "You told me you weren't involved in the business world anymore."

  The girl's chin went up another notch.

  "If you're not involved in the business world, why are you here to see Michael?"

  Instead of answering, she fired a question back. "What are you doing here?"

  He didn't even bother to answer. He just stared at her. Hard. Then his eyes widened with a kind of stunned disbelief.

  "Me?" he shouted at her. "You wanted Michael to run a background on me?"

  "You searched my apartment!"

  "I was looking for your coffee mugs!"

  "You counted my furniture!"

  "You live in a frigging loft, Jessica. I can see every piece of furniture from the front door!"

  "You— You're pursuing me!"

  "Damn right I am."

  "I've learned to be wary of men who pursue me!"

  "You've learned— I'm a cop, for Christ's sake!"

  "So you said."

  Two steps carried him the rest of the way across the kitchen where he grabbed the girl's arms. "You're questioning my word?"

  Holy shit, but the little prom queen didn't like Kyle towering over her. Her head snapped back and she started yapping a bunch of gibberish in some foreign language, giving him hell.

  Not too sure what to make of that, Michael looked over at Simon, who was . . . grinning?

  Kyle gave the girl a good shake. "Don't argue with me in Chinese! You argue with me in English so I can yell back!"

  "—of the very old goat!" she shouted back.

  Goat?

  "I am so furious with you!" she blurted out.

  "Yeah, well, I'm not happy with you either."

  "I've shamed myself in front of these people!"

  Frowning, Kyle glanced around, looking as though he'd forgotten the rest of them were standing there enjoying the show.

  "Shit," he grumbled. Then he turned back to the girl. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

  "I'm a guest in this house!" Tears glistened in her eyes.

  Ah, shit, Kyle, don't let her cry.

  "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Jess," he said again. "It's my fault."

  "Yes, I know this."

  Michael started to laugh, but Rachel squeezed his waist and he caught himself just in time and choked it back.

  The prom queen looked over at him. "I do beg your pardon."

  "Hey, no problem," he told her. Then he wondered if Kyle knew Interpol had an interest in her.

  "I didn't realize you were acquainted with Kyle when I asked for your help," she said. "This is a conflict of interests. I'll find another person to—"

  "I'll tell you what you want to know."

  "I'm not a naïve child, Kyle."

  Kyle looked like he could spit nails. "Why the hell is it so important for you to have background on me?" he snarled.

  She clamped her mouth shut.

  "Answer me."

  "Because!"

  He shook her again.

  "Because loving you could be a bad thing for me!"

  He stared down at her, suddenly silent.

  Michael could see why he was always on the outs with his little sweetheart. She gave
Kyle a damned good run for his money.

  Up went that chin again and she glared at Simon. "I would like to apply for a blue link. Tonight. When you take me back to RUSH for my car."

  Holy shit.

  "The hell you are," Kyle growled.

  Michael switched his gaze to Simon who, at that moment, did a frigging Snow White. The color just drained right out of his face. What the fuck was that about?

  Jessica turned back to Kyle. "Don't you understand? Please understand. I can't go to another man after you—"

  "There won't be another man! No other men! How the hell many times do I have to say it?"

  Ah, geez, here come the tears.

  The little prom queen looked like she'd pushed herself to the limit. Her face was pale, her expression all forlorn. She turned to Simon again. "Please take me back to my car now."

  "No." Kyle shot a fierce stare at Michael. "You checked me out after that incident with Rachel downtown, right?"

  "Shit yeah."

  "I want you to print it out and give it to Jessica."

  Michael sobered. The report he had on Kyle made for a long afternoon of reading. And there was a hell of a lot of stuff in there he wouldn't want her to know about.

  But he didn't have a chance to argue because Kyle looked at Rachel and said, "Excuse us for a minute, Rachel." Then he slid one hand down to Jessica's wrist, latched onto it, and hustled that belligerent little sweetie through the game room and out the sliding door to the backyard.

  And didn't that just suck, leaving the rest of them there, hanging in suspense.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kyle hadn't felt such a blinding combination of anger and frustration since he was a twelve-year-old boy facing too much loss, too much guilt, and the impotence of being a kid from the slums. It had taken years to work all that rage out of his system—years and the love of two damned fine foster parents who had possessed enough patience and determination to guide him through it . . . and to give him proof from the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania that even a child had a voice that could be heard.

  But he felt as though he was hanging from that same precipice, riding the margins of irreplaceable loss and clawing at the cliff edge for a crevice in the rock. He didn't speak fourteen goddamn languages. He'd never been outside the United States. And he didn't have the finesse of someone who conducted business in a global society.

  But he sure as hell wasn't twelve years old anymore. And this wasn't a boardroom. He wasn't helpless, and he didn't need grace and tact to fight for what he wanted.

  He may never have been in love before, but neither had she. And she'd just finished saying that loving him could be a bad thing for her, giving him the crevice in the rock he'd been clawing for.

  Towing her behind him toward the in-ground swimming pool, he didn't stop until they were far enough from the house to be assured of privacy. Even then, he stood for a minute, Jessica pinned to his side, and stared at the sparkling water while he tried to figure out how to keep her pinned to his side without force. How the hell had he come to this?

  He looked down at her. She, too, was staring at the water, rebellion holding her body stiff beside him.

  "Jess?" he said quietly. "Are you in love with me?"

  Despair drifted over her face. Her eyes closed, and she bowed her head.

  "Jess?"

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  "Honey, look at me."

  He lifted his other hand to cup her jaw and tilted her face up so he could wipe her tear with his thumb.

  "Are you in love with me?" he asked again.

  Another tear tracked down her face and it grieved him to know she was hurting that much.

  "I don't want to love you, Kyle."

  He told himself her answer didn't hurt, but it did. It hurt, and it sent a shiver of fear through him.

  "Does that mean yes, you love me, even if you don't want to? Or no, you won't let yourself care that much?"

  She tried to pull her chin from his grasp, but he wasn't letting go. So she shifted her eyes away, refusing to look at him.

  "Some," she finally said. "I love you some."

  He searched her face. What the hell kind of answer was some?

  Christ Almighty, but she pulled him in every direction a man could be pulled. She ran him in circles, gave his temper a workout, then left him hanging out to dry while she walked away.

  He was scraped raw. Desperation had become a close companion. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost was full of shit. Losing eviscerated a man. He didn't want to go there again. He never wanted to go there again. But that damned blue link was hanging over his head like an axe, and RUSH was an ongoing threat. He wanted her away from that place, and he never wanted to hear another word about a frigging blue link.

  Letting go of her wrist, he brushed aside her hair so he could see her face. She was so young, her skin smooth and fresh. But he knew it had been a while since he considered her youth a determining factor. Over the past weeks her age had taken a back seat to the complexity of who she was. Hell, nineteen was hardly significant when measured against the responsibilities she'd shouldered, the accomplishments she could claim, and the dangers she'd dealt with in an ugly world. The grief in her heart was a living, breathing ache and she needed him. She needed him because that grief was assuaged whenever they were together. He knew it because she did the same for him. And when she was in his arms, she was a woman with a woman's needs. She came alive for him with sweet yearning and God knew he ached to bury himself deep inside her.

  He was tired of the battle in his head. He was only going to end up yielding to destiny anyway. He'd known, almost from the beginning, how it was going to be between them. He'd just been fighting fate. And who the hell ever won against fate?

  He stroked his thumb over another tear and the tenderness unfolding inside him was almost too much to contain. At last, resistance found balance with acceptance and he could breathe.

  Searching her watery eyes, he braced himself and said, "Will you marry me, Jess?"

  He felt her go still. She looked up at him through her tears and searched his eyes, but the answer she gave surprised him.

  "I haven't yet had a birthday since you shouted that I was nineteen years old."

  He drew in a breath. "Yeah, I know, honey."

  "Then why, Kyle? Why do you want to marry me now?"

  As usual, she knew how to dig right down to the vulnerable, gritty substance of his soul. But this time he had a choice to make. He could tell her the things he figured would pacify her, or he could play it straight and hope she wouldn't throw his heart back in his face.

  Neither option appealed to him. He didn't want a relationship based on deception, but putting himself out there like that . . . .

  Still, she needed to know he wasn't another bastard after her father's money. She hadn't had a chance yet to read Michael's report so she didn't know he was financially secure enough for three lifetimes. So yeah, she was right. She did have a reason to be wary. The only image she had of him was that of a scruffy construction worker who may have been a cop.

  But could he trust her? He was about to find out.

  "Why do I want to marry you?" he said and braced himself again. This was it. All or nothing. "Because the possibility of losing you scares me, Jess. And because the thought of another man touching you fills me up with so much rage, I don't recognize myself." He took a breath and made himself say the words. "And because I love you. I love you, and that scares me too, honey, because every minute I'm with you I love you more and I've lost too much in my life." He took a breath. "But when I'm with you I feel like I can deal with the loss. You chase away the darkness in me, honey. You make me remember there's good out there in the universe. —Don't cry, baby."

  She sniffed a little, then gave him a weak smile. "You told me I'd want your marriage proposal when you asked me to marry you."

  "Yeah, I did."

  "Kyle?"

  "What is it, honey?"

  "Y
ou can be a very difficult man."

  "Yeah, I can be a real sonofabitch. But I love you. Even when you're comparing me to an old goat."

  Her eyes widened, then she choked on a laughing sob and flashed a smile that dazzled him clear down to his knees.

  Goddamn, she'd better marry him. He might grimace a little when he thought about her age, but her innocence burrowed deeper into his heart every time he was with her. And when he pissed her off and she raked him over the coals in whatever language came to mind, or she spouted out proverbs like some old shaman off the reservation, furious or not, she enchanted him all the more.

  Now, tears glistening on her cheeks, she gazed up at him and he knew she loved him more than 'some.'

  Lifting one hand she placed a fist to her chest, just as she had that first day he met her. "Every time I'm with you, Kyle—every time," she stressed, "—the grief in my heart changes to joy. All of my days were passing like years and I was afraid. I saw the world through darkened glass." She lowered her hand to her side and a small smile touched her lips. "But the things I fear melt away when I'm with you. You bring happiness to my life, like a sparkle that wakes me from a long sleep, and at this moment I walk in the heavens."

  "Jess . . . ." He caught her close and pulled her up onto her toes, sinking his face in her neck. "Marry me, Jess. Say yes."

  "Yes."

  It was a whisper in his ear and he closed his eyes as the unbearable tension in his chest began to ease. He breathed in deeply. Then let it out.

  "When?" he asked. "Soon, honey. Make it soon."

  He wanted it done. He wanted her anchored to his side where RUSH's security force couldn't keep him from her. He wanted to burn that skimpy uniform she wore. And he wanted a ring on her finger so it was clear she wasn't available. He needed to feel her come alive in his arms again . . . then come apart with her legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted to teach her sweet young body about a world of pleasure she didn't know existed, and thinking about that fact brought a film of sweat to his forehead.

  She'd asked him if he would want her to come to him untouched or after she'd had a few lovers. He hadn't been thinking about commitment then. He hadn't been ready to think about it. But her question had whipped up a surge of anger in him that bordered on violence. Not only had he needed her so damned bad he hurt, but he'd known she was about to cut him out of her life. He'd seen it coming. And the thought of another man claiming her made him half crazy. He'd do serious damage to anyone else who touched her. Probably end up behind bars for it. So yeah, she'd been right.