With a smile she didn’t feel, Jenny tried to sit there and concentrate on eating the cake. She tasted none of it, because her stomach was filled with fluttering butterflies and her heart beat erratically. Her emotions skidded from euphoria to sheer terror. Oh, what if she failed at this? She couldn’t stand disappointing Morgan or Laura.
Roy came in, somber and respectful, and wished Jenny a happy birthday. She responded with a smile and thanks as she watched the tall, silver-haired man troop back and forth with plates in hand for the rest of the hard-working office staff outside the doors of the war room. Jenny saw a man, very tall, deeply suntanned, come to a standstill in the doorway after Roy had left with a final piece of cake for himself. It was Matt Davis, she realized, recognizing him as he scanned the room with storm-colored gray eyes. The very merc she’d tripped all over the other day in Morgan’s office!
“Matt, come in,” Morgan called, and waved him in. “You’re just in time.” He pointed to the last plate with a slice of cake on it. “Come and have a piece of Jenny’s birthday cake. It’s time you were properly introduced to your new partner.”
Nodding, Matt moved silently into the room. He closed the door quietly behind him. His eyes smarted and burned. Right now, he didn’t want to be here. All he wanted was twenty-four hours of uninterrupted sleep. “Yes, sir,” he murmured, and turned toward the long, oval table.
Jenny held her breath. Matt Davis. The famous Matt Davis. He was one of Morgan’s very best mercs—a level four. She’d known his résumé by heart even before he’d come to meet with Morgan. Now, as she studied his eyes, they glittered with a hard intelligence, making her nerves skitter and her pulse race. With his wide, oval face and jutting jaw, that strong nose and full mouth, he was one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. And he was being assigned to work with her!
Jenny did everything possible to hide her feelings and not stare at him like a lovelorn teenybopper. But how could she help herself? He looked more handsome today than ever, dressed in a pair of comfortable dark brown chinos, a charcoal gray polo shirt beneath a buckskin suede sport coat and black leather cowboy boots. His hair, a raw umber color, was closely cropped in typical military tradition, and the conservative cut emphasized his rugged features. He moved like a prowling cougar across the room toward them, with a sense of tightly coiled energy surrounding him. His assessing eyes never left hers. How did he feel about working with her? Judging from the harsh slant of his mouth, he didn’t like it one bit. Jenny cowered within herself, clutching the plate in her lap as if it were a liferaft on a storm-tossed sea.
“Matt, meet Jenny, your boss and teammate for this upcoming mission,” Morgan said with a genial smile.
Matt halted in front of blond-haired Jenny. She could barely meet his gaze, she seemed so shy. What a tiny thing she was. He remembered her from the other day in Morgan’s office when he’d come to Perseus to receive his next assignment. Hell, she wasn’t a merc. Even now she was cowering before him and struggling to look confident. Her chin trembled, tearing at his heavily guarded heart.
“Good to meet you again,” Matt rumbled, and he stuck out his hand. Jenny blushed at his reference to their earlier meeting.
Morgan had warned him not to make waves or let Jenny know he really didn’t want this assignment with her. She was not a professional merc. She wasn’t even in the military.
Jenny gathered her rapidly dissolving courage, lifted her chin and forced herself to stare up into those large, glittering gray eyes of Matt Davis. After all, he wouldn’t want a coward for a partner. His hand was so large! she thought as he enfolded it around her petite one. Nevertheless, she accepted his firm, yet careful grip. Cringing inwardly, she knew her own hands were cool and damp with nervousness. His flesh was hard and warm and dry. He wasn’t nervous at all.
For a brief, flitting moment, Jenny saw an unknown emotion glint in his assessing eyes. What was it? Disdain? Did he want to curl his lip because she wasn’t really a merc? Not a military trained person, but a secretary fulfilling a romantic dream?
Anxiously, she searched his face for some sign of his true feelings toward her and this mission. She saw nothing except that one flicker of emotion in his gray eyes, which were focused on her. As she shook his hand, the plate containing her cake slid off her lap.
“Oh!” she cried. Leaping up, she instantly released his hand. In leaping, she misjudged the space and bumped into the table with her hip, tottering off balance. Strong, warm hands caught her by the shoulders, lifted her off her feet and set her down again.
Gulping, Jenny couldn’t look up at Matt. He must be laughing at her. She was such a klutz! “Thank you,” she whispered, completely humiliated once more in his presence. As Matt released her, Jenny crouched down to begin the process of sweeping the cake and frosting off the tightly woven, wheat-colored carpet and putting it back on the plate. Her flesh tingled wildly where his roughened fingers had touched her. Heat swam through her, and she felt a bit dizzy after unexpected contact with him. Matt had lifted her up as if she were a feather.
Laura came around the table and helped her pick up the rest of the errant crumbs. “Accidents happen, Jenny,” she whispered gently. “It’s okay. Let me help you.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jenny breathed apologetically. “I’m so clumsy….”
Chuckling, Laura said, “Don’t worry about it.”
Matt walked around the two women and went over to the sideboard, where a pot of coffee was kept warm. He picked up one of the white mugs in preference to the flowery china cups. Giving Morgan a sideways glance, he saw his boss smile slightly. Matt knew that look and that smile. It was a nonverbal order for him to say nothing—and to be kind—and patient with Jenny.
After pouring the coffee, Matt turned and stood with cup in hand and watched the two women clean up the mess on the carpet. Jenny was petite, like a fine-boned bird. He saw her hands tremble slightly as she got to her feet. Touching her flaming red cheek, she unwittingly deposited a splotch of white frosting on her face. Jenny reminded him of a rabbit—a creature without defenses, completely vulnerable. But then, Matt warned himself, no woman was defenseless. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Jenny rushed out of the room and down the hall to the rest room, where she dampened some paper towels. Matt Davis was so tall, so strong and silent. She could feel him watching her every move. Oh, why had she wished for a mission? This was just awful. She’d embarrassed herself in front of everyone, when she desperately wanted them to think she was in command of her life and confident. Now she looked like the bumbling klutz she’d been all her life. Matt wouldn’t respect her for that. Not at all.
Reentering the room, she saw that Laura had sat back down next to Morgan. She was smiling maternally toward her, and it made Jenny feel a tad better. But not much. Morgan gave her a look that said: relax. Matt was looking at her as if she was an alien that had stepped off another planet. She felt like a bug beneath his dark gray microscope gaze. What must he think of her? He had to be silently laughing at her.
Getting down on her hands and knees, she scrubbed the frosting off the carpet. To her surprise, she saw a pair of thick, chino-clad thighs sink down very close to her—Matt, crouching beside her.
“Here, you missed a spot.”
His deep voice vibrated through her as Jenny rocked back on her heels to meet his gaze. Wet paper towels clutched in her hands, she looked up…up into warm gray eyes that made her feel suddenly weak and wonderful. When he used his callused thumb to brush away a smudge of frosting from her left cheek, she inhaled sharply, not expecting this kind of intimacy or care from him. A tender smile lurked at the corners of his mouth as he held up the offending frosting on his thumb.
“Oh…dear…it’s all over me, too…” Great! She couldn’t even say anything intelligent, much less coherent. She sounded like a breathless, starstruck teenager who’d been touched by her Hollywood idol. Well, hadn’t she been? Hadn’t she had a crush for Matt Davis for the whole year she�
��d been here? Yes…but the three times he’d come to her desk for assignment details, he’d treated her coolly, without smiling. Certainly, he hadn’t recognized her as a flesh and blood person sitting behind that desk. And the other day she’d practically landed in his lap!
Now, he seemed different. She saw the amusement, the warmth lingering in his eyes as he held his thumb up with the offending white frosting on it. Heat soared up her neck into her face.
“That came off me?” How had it gotten here? Her mind whirled. She was blathering, something she did when she was truly stressed. She was making an utter fool of herself in front of her boss and Matt. Jenny wanted to disappear into thin air.
It didn’t happened.
“I admit you’re a beautiful birthday girl, but I don’t think you need this frosting.” Matt gave her a slight, one-cornered smile because he could see how mortified Jenny had become. She was as red as the worst sunburn he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes, luminous and huge, reflected fear, humiliation and embarrassment at his gesture. And where had his words come from? He wasn’t given to making compliments toward women. The sky blue of her eyes seemed to become dappled with gold flecks as his words registered with her. For the first time, Matt saw a tinge of hope mingle with the terror and humiliation in her eyes. It was just a simple compliment, no big deal. But he could see it affected her profoundly.
Licking his thumb, he tasted the sweet frosting. Then he grinned a little to try and relieve her of her embarrassment. “See? All gone. Not bad tasting, either.” Getting to his feet, he held his hand down toward her. Jenny looked at it woodenly. She appeared frozen by his gallant gesture. When she lifted her chin and gazed up at him, he was once again struck by the childlike trust that emanated from her. Yet she was a twenty-five-year-old woman. And she’d always conducted herself with prim efficiency as Morgan’s assistant. Today he was seeing a completely new side to her.
“I don’t bite.”
Jenny grimaced. Her hand shot out and she gripped his callused fingers. With ease, he brought her to her feet. Instantly, she pulled her hand from his, as if burned. Gripping the wet, sticky paper towels, she whispered unsteadily to all of them, “Excuse me. Let me go get rid of these. I’ve got to wash my hands…. I’ll be right back.”
Matt raised his thick eyebrows as the door shut. He cast a questioning look at Morgan. “Are you sure you want her heading up this mission?”
“I’m positive, Matt. Sit down and have some cake. Jenny’s just rattled, is all. She’ll settle down if you give her some space.”
Laura cleared her throat and got Matt’s attention. “Be kind to her, Matt. Jenny is a wonderful, open and helpful person. I feel if you can gently guide her, she’ll do just fine on this interview mission.”
Reaching for the slice of cake on the plate, he picked up a fork and said, “This is like baby-sitting my kid sister—not that I ever had one. Jenny’s clumsy. And she gets rattled too easily.”
Frowning, Laura said, “I know this isn’t the kind of mission you wanted, Matt, but you were the only merc available. Jenny is an open book. She gets her feelings hurt very easily, and she’s supersensitive. She reads body language like a pro.”
“Great,” he muttered, eating the cake. Not only would he have to watch what he said to her, he’d have to carefully mask his reactions as well.
“There’s no danger to this mission,” Morgan noted. “You can sort of consider it a minivacation to Peru. Enjoy the country and its people. Just be there for Jenny, support her and let her know she can handle it.”
“Well,” Matt drawled as he took another forkful of cake, “at least she’s nothing like my shark of an ex-wife.” His mouth twisted downward. “At least I’m saved from that on this mission.”
Chapter Three
Matt tried to ignore Jenny, who wriggled like a happy puppy next to him in the first-class section of the Condor Airlines flight they were on. They’d taken a local hop from Montana over to Seattle, Washington, and gotten the international flight down to Lima from there. Jenny reminded him of the frothy, bubbly champagne. And as if sensing he didn’t want to talk, she tried her best not to engage him too often in conversation. Instead she focused her attention on her laptop computer, creating questions for her interviews.
Feigning sleep, he had his eyes closed, wrapped his massive arms across his chest and spread out his long legs. Even though there was a wide arm between the tobacco-colored leather seats, he could feel her restlessness. Oh, maybe he was being too harsh toward her. Jenny was in constant movement. Maybe like a butterfly instead of a wriggly puppy. Yes, she was definitely butterfly material. Laughing to himself, Matt derided his protective instincts, which made him want to reach out and soothe Jenny’s fractious, ongoing state. She was almost manic. In the airport she had clutched her large, black leather briefcase as if someone was going to steal it from her. Matt had tried to reassure her that this was a level one mission, and no bad guy was going to come out of nowhere to swipe it from her. She’d given him a dirty look that said she didn’t believe him.
The corners of his mouth lifted. Jenny was on high alert as they passed through each airport facility, always looking about and studying people around her as if one of them might be “the enemy.” Matt didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t the way spies worked. This was her fantasy—being on a dangerous, undercover mission. Let her have it. Still, he couldn’t remove that warmth that was lingering stubbornly around his heart every time he thought of her and her clumsiness or her breathy laughter. Her delft-blue eyes shone with such life. He wondered obliquely how someone like her, at age twenty-five, had escaped all of life’s hard knocks.
She behaved as if the world were a wonderful place to be and live in. It wasn’t, of course. Never had been. Never would be.
“Mr. Davis? Are you asleep?”
He stifled a chuckle as he felt Jenny’s tentative tap on his upper arm. Prying one eye open, he looked at her.
“I’m not now,” he rumbled.
“I, uh…well, I thought I’d like to discuss the upcoming interviews with the Apache helicopter pilots.” He was looking at her as if she was a bug to be flicked off because he was bothering her. Gulping, Jenny mustered her courage and swept her hand toward the tray in front of her that held her computer. “I’m not in the military,” she said, keeping her voice very low so they couldn’t be overheard. No telling who might be sitting in front, beside or behind them. Glancing around and giving everyone a suspicious look, she leaned toward Matt as he opened both his eyes and uncrossed his arms.
“I just feel…well, really awkward about heading up this mission, Mr. Davis. I know I’m not military, and yet, Morgan wants me to interview the military pilots down there.” She gave him a frown. “Over the past two hours I’ve been putting together some questions we might ask them. I really need your input. I’m nervous about this and don’t want to mess it up.” Jenny gave a short, insecure laugh. “And believe me, I can screw things up royally. If you could just take a peek at my questions?”
She picked up one page of handwritten questions and waved it in his direction. She saw his brows dip. He sat up and rubbed his face savagely. Jenny cowered inwardly, knowing he was tired. But in five hours they’d be landing in Lima, and she didn’t want to try and formulate her interview questions then. She’d be tired by that time!
Matt looked at the tray in front of her. It was filled with neat piles of handwritten notes beside her laptop. Looking down, he saw at least fifteen wadded-up pieces of paper, like popcorn balls, littering the area around her small, dainty feet. Trying not to smile, he saw that she’d pushed off her practical dark brown shoes. For the flight she had dressed in a dark purple silk suit that brought out the color of her eyes and her burnished gold hair. Now he saw she had a pair of dark purple cotton socks on her feet. He’d meant to tell her how pretty she looked, especially with the dainty gold-and-amethyst earrings and matching choker, which held a teardrop-shaped amethyst pendant around her slender throa
t. With little effort, she looked both professional and feminine at the same time.
“Let’s see what you’ve come up with,” he muttered.
The male flight attendant came by and asked if they’d like anything to drink. Both said no.
Jenny sat there chewing on her lower lip, her eyes flicking from Matt’s hard, unreadable face to his compressed mouth. He had a beautifully shaped mouth. She sighed inwardly and tried to contain the excitement and trepidation she felt as he went over her questions. Moving restlessly in the seat, she could barely contain herself.
“Well?” she ventured, concealed fear in her tone. “I know they’re probably pretty awful, being that I’ve never been in the military….”
Glancing at her, Matt saw the worry and anxiety written all over her oval face. Such angst in someone her age…what had set her up to respond like this? Had she been overly criticized in her family? Had her parents been perfectionists when she was a child? Even the way Jenny held herself, so erect and stiff, as if expecting a physical blow, made him scowl.
“No…these questions are good. They’re insightful.” He tapped the paper with his index finger. “I like the fact that you’re asking questions on a human level, rather than a military one.”
Gawking at him, her mouth fell open. “You do? You mean you like them? They aren’t awful?”
Setting the paper down in his lap, he focused his full attention on her. “Jenny…may I call you that? Or do you prefer Ms. Wright?”
“Er…no, call me Jenny, please. I hate standing on formality, if the truth be known….”
Nodding, he forced a sliver of a smile for her benefit. He was finding out Laura had been right about Jenny’s ability to read body language big time. “Fine. Call me Matt, okay?”
She nodded hesitantly. Old habits died hard. At the office, he was always Mr. Davis. Jenny never called any of the mercenaries by their first names. When she saw his mouth curve faintly, relief shot through her. Even his gray eyes warmed a bit as he looked at her. It was much easier to deal with than his focused inspection.
Woman of Innocence Page 3
