She lifted a wary eyebrow at his even-toned question, apparently expecting him to go ballistic any second. Well, she was in for a surprise then. He wouldn’t have traded the last hour for anything, not even the mission. Of course, he also knew the response from Zach couldn’t have come more than an hour ago, and an hour wasn’t going to jeopardize anything.
“About an hour ago, when you were in the shower,” she answered. “I fed and cleaned up after the pup, then ran up to check just as it was coming through. I printed it and deleted the file. I’m pretty sure it’s directly from Zach.”
Jarrett allowed a small smile. “Picked up that much of the code just from the short message you sent, did you?”
She smiled too. “Learned from the best.”
“I’m not too sure any longer who’s teaching who.”
“Whom.”
He ignored her correction, but his smile stayed when he asked, “Where is it?”
“In the kitchen on the table. I figured you’d want to read it while we ate. I came in here to get you, and well, you know the rest.” She grinned at him without even a shred of modesty.
His heart pounded, and he felt himself grow hard inside her. He stifled a groan at his apparently insatiable need for her.
Rae tightened around him in response, but then gradually relaxed. She tipped her forehead to his chest, then looked at him, all teasing gone. “I know we have to get up and get on with this. But I just want you to know—”
He placed a finger across her lips. “Shhh. Don’t.”
Rae stared at him, a bit hurt, until she saw the desire, the need. And the denial. “Yeah, I guess it’s better that way,” she said quietly, and pulled away. This time he let her. As she sat on the edge of the bed and fished for her clothes, she hated it that she suddenly felt so … cast adrift.
“I meant what I said, Rae.” He traced a fingertip over the thin scars webbing her back.
She shivered under his touch, pressing her knees together as desire for him clutched at her again. Would she ever stop wanting him? She refused to think about the fact that she’d never get the chance to find out.
His voice was deep and rough when he said, “I don’t want you to go.”
This time she understood what he’d been trying to say earlier. She didn’t look at him. “I have to, Jarrett.” She pulled on her shirt and underwear.
He moved suddenly, the mattress dipping low behind her. “Maybe I can get Zach to—”
She spun around to face him, her sweatpants clutched in a ball on her lap. “No, he can’t. If you thought he was a viable alternative, you’d never have asked me.”
He shifted his weight onto one elbow and regarded her for a long moment. “You believe that?”
“Yes,” she answered instantly.
He dropped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Good. Because, you’re right,” he said at length. “I wouldn’t have.”
“Zach may be able to sneak me into the country undetected, but he’s not skilled in information transfer, much less in dealing with people like this. You’d be as good as signing his death warrant if he got caught.”
Jarrett closed his eyes. His jaw was clenched so tightly, she could see his cheek muscles twitch from the effort.
“I know,” he bit out. He opened his eyes and looked directly at her. They were pale gray and bleak, the smoky sensuality gone, the icy hardness shattered. “I know.”
It hit her then, all the power of what she felt. Of what he might be feeling. If she was reading what was in his eyes correctly … If she dared to believe …
No. Suddenly cold, she turned away and hugged herself, her sweats falling to the floor in a forgotten heap.
“Rae.” He reached for her.
She practically leaped up to avoid his touch. Right now she was barely holding it together. If she let him pull her back into the protective shelter of his arms, the comfort and solace of his big warm body, if she let herself believe the promise she’d seen in his eyes when he’d come inside her … She might let him talk her out of this.
“I know what I’m doing. I’ll be okay,” she assured him, certain of no such thing. And her mind wasn’t on terrorists or the dangers she faced in Bhajul.
She yanked on her sweats, hopping off balance in her haste. “I’ll reheat the food and meet you in the kitchen.” She made it to the door, but the overpowering sensation of his gaze boring through her back had her turning at the door.
The words in her heart tumbled out. “I know the risks, Jarrett. I also know neither of us planned on this.” She waved a hand. “Any of this.” She curled her fingers into her palm. “But I am involved now. And not just for JMI and those people whose lives are on the line. And not just for you. I’m doing this for me too. I left two years ago because I had no choice. I was beaten. Not just physically, but in all ways. This is a chance for me to leave the right way, with it all intact.” Her hand dropped limply to her side. “But I will promise that this mission is it. My life is here.” Her voice faltered as she added, “I can’t live in yours anymore.”
Jarrett found her just after nightfall, but not in the shop where she was supposed to be working.
He leaned in the doorway of the garage much as she had the afternoon before. She wasn’t playing tug-of-war with the pup, though. The wolf was sleeping, stretched out with his head and back pressed against her thigh. Rae was leaning against the wall, her work gloves discarded in her lap as she absently stroked his fur, her thoughts apparently a million miles away. Or more likely a few thousand. In Bhajul.
He didn’t think he moved, but he must have because she looked up at him. She didn’t smile or speak.
His heart swelled and tightened painfully at the same time. Just the sight of her did that to him—and she was a sight. Her clothes were only in slightly better shape than the shop rags she gave to the pup, and her hair was totally wrecked, half sticking up, half-plastered to her still-flushed skin. She hadn’t been out of her shop for long.
He felt as if the bottom had fallen out of his heart and landed with a burning crash in the pit of his stomach. She was leaving him in less than twelve hours.
And he didn’t know if he’d ever see her again.
He didn’t feel like smiling either.
Leaning heavily on the cane, he crossed the garage to her, then lowered himself so he could rest against the wall, the sleeping wolf between them.
“You all done out there?” he asked quietly, nodding in the general direction of her shop.
“As much as I can be. If all goes well, I’ll be back in less than a week. My orders will be pretty much on time and no one will be the wiser.” She shrugged, then suddenly, as if just realizing she was petting the wolf, she pulled her hand into her lap, awkwardly twining her fingers together. “If not,” she went on, her voice devoid of emotion, “then I left a list of numbers and accounts that need to be notified. It’s all upstairs in a folder next to the computer.”
“Okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t remotely okay.
“I found the contact number for the zoo compound. You’ll notify them—”
“As soon as you’re out of Bhajul,” he finished. He glanced down at the sleeping pup. “He hasn’t fared too poorly under our care. I swear he’s doubled in size.”
“His claws and teeth have, if nothing else,” she said, a hint of a smile curving her lips. “It’s easy to forget he’s not just a normal puppy. Until you see what he does to shop rags. I had to wear my thick shop gloves now just to play—” She broke off suddenly.
“Yeah,” Jarrett admitted, forcing an answering smile. “He nailed me a time or two as well.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “We shouldn’t even be in here with him any more than necessary. We’ve probably ruined him for the wild forever.”
“He’s alive.”
Her smile faded, and she stroked the soft fur again. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess that has to be enough.”
“But it isn’t sometimes, is it
, Rae?” Jarrett reached over and lifted her hand from the pup, studying it, turning it over in his own larger hand. He looked up at her, then twined his fingers with hers. “You know that better than anyone, don’t you?”
She dropped her gaze to their intertwined fingers, then slowly tightened hers as she looked back at him. “I know what it’s like to have nothing more than that. But I also learned just how sacred it is—even if it’s only sacred to your own self.”
Jarrett had to fight down the overwhelming need to tell her he’d never leave her to face anything alone again. That no matter what, there was always someone who cared about her, was as deeply concerned that she go on living as she was herself.
But since he was about to cast her back—alone—into the same dark world she’d barely crawled out of last time, it was hardly fair to burden her with the added pressure of his feelings. He knew Rae; she’d take them on as pressure rather than the reassurance he’d mean them to be.
And he also knew for her sake and that of the mission, she couldn’t afford to be thinking of anything—or anyone—else. Not even herself.
ELEVEN
Rae eased away from the pup and stuffed her shop gloves in her waistband. Still holding Jarrett’s hand, she stood. “We’d better get out of here before he wakes up and mistakes me for one of his shop rags,” she said, looking down at her clothes.
She stepped over the soundly sleeping wolf and tugged, helping Jarrett to stand. He slid up the wall, holding his cane in his free hand. Instead of pushing away from the wall, though, he leaned back and surprised her by tugging her against his chest.
She’d avoided his touch all afternoon. Over their meal they’d discussed the mission and Zach’s plans to get her into Bhajul in an amazingly professional manner, considering what they’d been doing less than thirty minutes earlier. Then, due as much to the exhaustion lining his face and underscoring his every word as her own need for some time alone, she’d excused herself to work. Jarrett hadn’t argued. He’d gone back to bed, this time to sleep for real.
Now she could no more avoid or turn from him than she could deny that she’d spent every minute in her shop wanting this to happen, craving his touch.
Without a word, he lowered his head and brought his mouth to hers. This kiss was far different from any they’d shared.
His hunger and need were there, but so carefully banked that she was able to contain hers as well. This time he gave more than he took. He was gentle in a way she hadn’t imagined he could be, in a way that made her eyes close against the sudden burning there.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth and made love to her with long slow strokes. Her knees weakened, and he pulled her between his legs, his hand spread across her lower back, cradling her hips to his. He slanted his head and took the kiss even deeper, coaxing her tongue into his mouth.
The kiss went on and on. Slowly, silently, perfectly in tune, like a dance to music they heard only in their minds. And their hearts.
Finally, Rae let her mouth drift to his chin, then his throat, then she laid her head on his chest and simply absorbed the heavy beat of his heart into her own.
They stood that way for a long, long time.
Then, at the same moment, she pulled away and he released her. They stared at each other for another endless minute.
“You’d better get some rest,” he said, his voice so raw he had to clear his throat to continue. “Zach will be here long before dawn.”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah, I guess I’d better.” She turned and made her way out of the garage, not daring to look back. She heard his heavy uneven steps behind her and made herself absorb the sound, imprint it in her mind. That solid reassuring sound, proof that someone was right behind her, watching her back, looking out for her.
She had the uncanny feeling that she was going to need that memory over the next couple of days, despite knowing that it was an illusion. She was on her own. Always had been, always would be. She’d just never hated that fact quite so much as she did right now.
A sound jerked Rae from her restless sleep, and she sat bolt upright on the couch. The light from the quarter moon was dim, but reflecting high enough that she knew it was too early for Zach to have arrived. Her eyes accustomed themselves to the light, and she scanned the room. There was one long dark shadow sliding across the floor. She knew what had caused it before she tracked it to its origin.
Jarrett. He was leaning against the window, facing the couch. She’d never heard him enter the room.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He didn’t speak, and for a moment she wondered if she was actually dreaming. His presence had figured in every dream she’d been able to sleep long enough to have.
“Watching you,” he said at last, his voice not betraying any emotion.
“Watching over me, you mean,” she answered. “Don’t worry, Jarrett. I’m a bit out of practice, but I won’t fail.”
“You never have.”
“Funny you remember it that way.”
“There was nothing remotely funny about it,” he said, tension creeping into his voice. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, then turned and looked out the huge picture window. “Why did you say yes that day in your counselor’s office?” He abruptly let his head drop. “You don’t have to answer that. Forget I asked.”
He’d caught her totally off guard, so it took her a minute or two to respond. “No, I won’t forget.” She wrapped her arms around herself to keep from giving in to the urge to go and wrap them around Jarrett. Something else besides the mission—both the one two years ago and the one she was about to embark on—was on his mind.
“My mom died when I was four,” she said. “I never knew who my father was, had no other family. I spent years bouncing around the foster-care system. I was moved around over a dozen times before I was sixteen.”
Jarrett turned to face her. “I know that. It’s all in your records. What I don’t know is why you said yes to the life I offered you.”
Rae didn’t know why he was asking this. She sensed he didn’t want to ask, that something strong, deep, was compelling him to. She took a moment, then said, “I had a hard time making sense out of my life. Why some kids got adopted and not others. Why adults loved some and not others. Why they had parents and I didn’t. Why the system worked the way it did. Or didn’t work, as the case may be.”
“Then why not go into social work? Why world politics and government?”
“One of the ways I coped with the instability of my life was by mastering the art of blending in. I learned early on that the quiet ones stayed longer. That carried over to my school life. I was the sort of dedicated student who no one really remembered. And after a while I realized how much more you could learn by just being part of the scenery.”
“Which explains why you made such a damn good courier, but not why you chose it.”
Or me. She heard the words as clearly as if he’d said them. “I couldn’t make sense of my own world, or of the system that governed it. But understanding and deciphering politics and rules on a huge scale, by which entire countries operated, fascinated me.” She paused, never having had to put into words exactly what it was that had driven her. “It was like, if I could understand how nations formed and thrived, then maybe it would make it easier for me to put my own surroundings into perspective.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I can make you understand.”
He shook his head. “I think I do. And when I showed up?”
This was easier. And so much harder. “You not only offered me a direct line into a field of intelligence that fascinated me intellectually—” She broke off for a moment, finding the words tougher than expected. “Emotionally, you were offering me a whole, complete life, a logical, detailed set of rules to live by. More importantly, you wanted me for me, for what I alone could offer you. I couldn’t say no. I wanted that more than anything else.”
Very quietly, he said, “You’re really amazing, you know that?”
&
nbsp; She shook her head. “I’m a survivor. Just like you.” She stood, but didn’t move toward him. “The walls I built to protect myself made me perfect for your business. I was inviolable because I didn’t let myself care. I never formed any attachments, not real ones anyway. It was the only way I felt whole, safe. Nothing got in. Nothing could.” She stepped around the coffee table. “But you know that. You saw it in me because you understand it so well. Because in so many ways, you were just like me.”
He turned to the window again, as if his back were a shield against her words. “In some ways, yes,” he said harshly. “But not in all. I had my father.”
Rae stopped. So was this what his questions were all about? “Did he love you?”
Jarrett flinched. “Yes. More than anything. I felt the same way. Hell, I worshiped him.”
She shivered and rubbed her arms. “What happened, then? Where did the walls come from?”
“My mom died when I was seven. She was perfect. At least, that’s how I remember her. My dad was a courier for the State Department. He was one of the best and took enormous pride in the role he played for his country. He was a hero to me from as early as I can remember, even if he was gone almost all the time. But when he was home, he spent every minute with Mom and me. We had no family, no relatives. Just neighbors.
“But after Mom died, he geared down, took nonclassified assignments so I could go with him. I stayed with him on the road for over three years. Eventually it caught up with us. He knew I needed to be in a regular school and I knew he hated being relegated to gofer trips. He hired a live-in housekeeper and that worked for a while, but I was pretty rebellious and she quit. This went on as a routine until I was fourteen. He called every night, and when he was home, we again spent every minute together. He wanted to move closer to the city—thought it might settle me down some—and sell the farm.”
“In Madison County?”
“Yeah. Near Zach and Dane. But I wouldn’t let him. It had been his and Mom’s dream to run the place as a real farm when he retired. Whatever wasn’t put away for my college education was socked away for their dream. When Mom died, I guess I knew it would never happen, but I was a kid and I just couldn’t let the dream go. Dad loved me, but he was haunted by her not being there anymore—”
Surrender the Dark Page 14
