The Phoenix

by Rhonda Nelson

  Meeting one who did both was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

  Quite honestly, she didn’t know what to make of him.

  He was an unknown quantity, a breed apart from the typical guy. Furthermore, he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her. Why was that? she wondered now, when she’d managed to frighten so many other men away. It boggled the mind. And miracle of miracles, he seemed to genuinely like and appreciate the very things about her that other men had found worrisome.

  “Just because I’m no longer employed by Andrew Betterworth doesn’t mean that I’m no longer committed to finding Ms. Aggie’s dog,” Jay said. “I told her I’d see to it that Truffles was returned to her and I fully intend to follow through.” He darted a look in her direction. “Do you have any objections?”

  Not if it meant that he was staying. She shook her head, ridiculously pleased. “None at all.”

  His vivid eyes rounded in mock surprise, the golden lashes catching the afternoon sun. “Two miracles in one day,” he marveled. “This must be a record.”

  She frowned. “Two miracles?”

  “You didn’t argue with me and you made me scream.” He chuckled darkly and inclined his head. “Those are definitely miracles in my book.”

  “What would you call it if I made you scream again?” she asked, chewing the inside of her cheek.

  He reached over and slid a reverent thumb over her bottom lip. Something elusive shadowed his gaze—wonder, maybe? affection, certainly—and he smiled at her, making her melt all over again.

  “Sheer dumb luck,” he said. “That’s what I’d call it.”

  He couldn’t have answered any better.

  12

  “WHAT ARE YOU GOING to do with her?” Smokey asked as he poked at the ashes. Firelight flickered over his features, illuminating his profile in an orangey glow. His eyelashes were quite long, Aggie noted. How was it that she’d never noticed that before? She’d certainly looked at him often enough.

  She sighed, absolutely heartsick over the poor girl upstairs in the Yellow Room. How had things gone so terribly wrong for the child? To think of her living with Andrew, suffering pain and abuse at his hands. It made her mad as hell, made her ache for innocence lost and missed opportunities and the injustices of the world.

  “Just love on her a little for now,” Aggie told him. She took a sip of her sherry. “Lord knows she needs it.”

  Everyone needed love. It was a universal requirement, a human desire, occasionally a flaw, but ever present all the same.

  Smokey glanced at her over his shoulder, studying her face. “Doesn’t sound like the world has been really kind to her.”

  It hadn’t. Horrible parents, opportunistic predators like Andrew. Josie was smart—there was a glimmer of intelligence in her frightened eyes—and there was, miraculously, still a hint of innocence about her despite everything that she’d been through. Those bruises on her legs… Aggie winced, unable to imagine how she’d gotten them. He’d kept her confined without money, without a car, without any means of independence. He’d beaten her down and then promised her the moon. A vicious cycle of hope and disappointment.

  Black eyes would heal, bruises would fade, but Aggie almost thought it was the theft of optimism that ultimately was the biggest abuse. Trust was going to be a long time coming, that was for sure.

  “Do you think she’ll press charges?” Smokey asked.

  Aggie chuckled softly. “If Charlie has anything to say about it she will.” Her gaze slid to Smokey, who was still crouched in front of the fireplace. He could sit like that forever, she thought. Knees bent, his rear end resting almost on his feet. “I’m so thankful she was here. She’s dealt with this sort of thing before and knew exactly what to do.” She blinked, still somewhat mystified. “I would never have thought that a bath, of all things, would be the first order of business.” She released a soft sigh. “But it was just what she needed.”

  “You’ve given her a safe place,” Smokey told her. “And the benefit of your kindness. She needed that, as well.”

  Inexplicably, Aggie felt her eyes burn and water and a little sob rise in her throat.

  Smokey looked at her in alarm and frowned, then came and knelt beside her, taking her hand in his.

  That only made her cry harder.

  He gave a low tsk and peered concernedly into her face. “Aw, come on now,” he said, his voice reassuring. “It’s not as bad as all that. She’s here now. She’s safe.”

  He’d moved closer. The scent of the wood smoke clung to his clothes and swirled up around her. His hand was big and work-worn and the strength in his fingers was thrilling and comforting and Aggie didn’t know why she was crying or what it was specifically about Josie’s situation that had her emotions all tied up in knots.

  She was just…overwhelmed with loss, she supposed. The loss of her friend, the loss of her pet, the loss of a young girl’s innocence—her watery gaze slid over Smokey’s dear face—the loss of what might have been had she met this man years ago. So much time gone. How different her life would have been had she met the right person to start with. She felt guilty for even thinking it. She’d loved her husband—he’d been a good man—and she’d adored her children. She hadn’t had a bad life, and yet…

  He reached up and wiped a tear away from beneath her eye with the pad of his thumb, and she closed her eyes and turned her cheek instinctively into his touch. It was bittersweet and wonderful, the warmth of his big hand against her face.

  He stilled.

  It took more courage than she would have ever imagined to open her eyes and look up at him. She was terrified that she’d crossed an unspoken line, that she’d see regret or misgivings. He was a proud man, she knew that. She was the boss lady with a big bank account and a bigger house and all those other things that men worried over and women didn’t give a damn about. He’d said enough over their morning breakfasts for her to glean that much out of him.

  His unreadable gaze searched hers, his thumb reverently stroking her cheek. Then, with a soft sigh of supplication and quite deliberately, he reached up and framed her face completely, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

  Sensation erupted along her nerve endings and a burst of warmth shot through her veins, bringing anticipation and desire, things she’d imagined weren’t a part of her future anymore. She touched his face, as well—how long had she waited to do that, to feel the stubble along his jaw with her hands?—and her chest swelled with an emotion so sweet and pure and powerful that she almost starting weeping again.

  When at last he drew back, his eyes were rife with affection and need, with fierce devotion, a mirror of her own, she knew.

  And then, of course, there was only one thing left to do.

  “Smokey?”

  “Yes, Aggie?”

  “You’re fired.”

  “WE’VE HEARD FROM Betterworth,” Payne told him. “He’s threatening to sue us. I told him to go right ahead and we’d see who ran out of money first.”

  Shit. He’d been afraid of that. He’d been going through his notes, rereading all of the so-called evidence when his boss had called. It didn’t matter that Betterworth had fired him—he still felt responsible, still felt there was a key piece of evidence right in front of him that he was missing.

  “I’m sorry,” Jay told him, passing a hand over his face. “Naturally, I’ll cover the legal fees.” He had a nice little nest egg socked back. The single life in the military hadn’t been a particularly expensive one and he’d come from a family of savers. To his knowledge his dad had never even had a credit card. Nothing spends better than cash, he’d always said. Jay smiled, remembering. He’d been planning to use the money to buy a house, but could hardly let the firm pay for his actions.

  It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know where Charlie lived and the thought brought him up short. In fact, there were lots of things he didn’t know about her. How odd, when he felt like he’d known her forever, as though a part o
f him had instinctively recognized her.

  “It won’t come to that,” Payne remarked. “Betterworth is so far in the red it’s more maroon. He doesn’t have the money to hire a lawyer, much less sue us.”

  “You’ve looked at his financials?”

  “I pulled them before we ever took him on. He’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth.” Payne chuckled darkly. “And every bit of his financial future hangs on Truffles. Even if the dog dies a natural death and all the terms of the will are met, Betterworth and that equally lazy sister of his will only inherit a fraction of the fortune.” He paused thoughtfully. “I’m not altogether certain that he’s smart enough to understand that. The will’s quite cleverly worded.”

  Why in the hell had they taken him on as a client then? Jay wondered. It wasn’t as if the company needed the money.

  “We should have sent him elsewhere when he called,” Payne said. “But on the surface, the report looked like a man who’d gotten a raw deal, who was experiencing cash-flow problems thanks to an eccentric aunt who’d preferred her pet over her family. It wasn’t until I started really digging this morning after you called that I found there was more. A couple of assault and battery charges that had been buried, a few fires, that sort of thing.”

  Things that Charlie would have found, Jay thought.

  “How much, exactly, do Betterworth and the sister inherit if nothing happens to Truffles?”

  “A quarter of a million each,” Payne said. “And I haven’t looked at the sister’s financials yet—that’s next on my list—but if she’s spent the way her brother has then that’s not going to keep them out of bankruptcy.”

  “Would a million each do it?” Jay asked, his spine prickling with unease.

  Payne was thoughtful. “Well managed, yes. Do you think—”

  “I don’t know,” Jay told him. “But it seems awfully damned strange, doesn’t it?”

  “But why not ask for all of it?” Payne argued. “Why only demand less than half?”

  “Not to draw suspicion, maybe? Perhaps this first million is all they need to tide them over until the dog passes away. Meanwhile, they’d have some extra money to throw at the attorneys to try and undermine the will.”

  “It’s a thought,” Payne said. “But technically…”

  “I can’t leave,” Jay told him. “I’d really like your permission to see this through.” He told him about the most recent ransom instructions. “Aggie has gotten Charlie the equipment she needs to try and hack into the system long enough to see if she can find out who the account belongs to. Provided we don’t find out who’s taken the dog prior to our next instructions—and frankly, we don’t have anything significant to go on and, at this point, I’m not especially hopeful about that—she’ll need to be working the hacking angle while I go and get Truffles. She needs me,” he said.

  The silence on the other end of the line was almost deafening. He’d said too much, Jay realized too late. Damn, damn, damn. He winced and passed a hand over his face.

  “Permission to stay granted,” Payne finally said. He sounded almost…amused?

  No doubt Jay would have some explaining to do when he got back, but at least he still had a job and could see this through. “Thank you.”

  “And Jay?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m so glad you nailed that bastard. I can’t abide a bully.”

  And with that parting comment, the line went dead.

  Though he hadn’t needed their approval to do what he did, Jay was glad to know that he’d had it. More than anything, though, it had been Charlie’s reaction to his hotheaded temper that had been the most gratifying.

  The look on her face when he’d walked out of the jail…

  She’d been so proud of him, for lack of a better description. Those wide autumn-like eyes had been sparkling with more admiration and respect than he’d ever seen before and, though he’d only done what any half-decent man with any sort of character would have done, he got the impression that Charlie hadn’t met many of those.

  Sad, that.

  She was a phenomenal woman. She was smart and funny and droll and was perfectly capable of kicking his ass six ways to Sunday. He chuckled low. Hell, he could admit it. And he didn’t mind admitting it. The level of discipline and dedication that went into mastering martial arts was damned admirable. He wasn’t going to let a little something like ego get in the way of appreciating her skill.

  In fact, it rather turned him on. He liked that she’d speak her mind, that she’d fight her way out of a corner before letting anyone put her there.

  He liked her, Jay realized in a moment of insight. She’d told him that he was different, but she was the one who was genuinely unique. Remembered heat slid through his limbs and settled in his groin when he thought about what they’d done in her car. The foggy windows, the shared breaths, her kittenish sounds and the slide of her bare nails over his flesh. The feel of her tight body above his. Dusky nipples, creamy flesh, that especially carnal plump bottom lip. A shiver raced through him and his dick twitched in his pants.

  The next time he had her—and there would definitely be a next time—they were going to do it in a proper bed, with proper sheets. And he was going to strip her completely naked and taste every inch of her bare flesh. He was going to slow things down and gradually wind her up…and then let her fly.

  For a split second Jay considered emailing Payne and asking him for that background check on her he’d offered earlier, but ultimately dismissed the idea. If he wanted to know something, then he’d just ask her, dammit.

  And there was so much he wanted to know.

  He wanted to know what sort of child she’d been—he suspected she’d been a little hellcat, of course—and whether she had any family. He wanted to know why she’d chosen to go into law enforcement. What had prompted the career choice in the first place and why had she left? He wanted to know why she’d applied for the job at Ranger Security and why Juan Carlos had owed her a favor. He wanted to know when she’d developed an interest in martial arts and how long she’d been in training.

  He wanted to know her favorite book, her favorite color, her favorite food, if she slept on the right or left side of the bed, where she lived and whether she’d ever been seriously involved with someone. He wanted to know everything about her—every thought, opinion, mole and scar. He grimaced.

  The only problem with that was she’d expect the same sort of disclosure in turn. The idea made his blood run cold. She knew the basic facts, of course, thanks to her perusing his file, but she didn’t know about the accident.

  The explosion, the force of the blast, the heat licking up the back of his legs, the horrible smell of human suffering. Corby McDonald, whom they called Big Hoss, had been on his left, and Matty Upchurch on his right. He’d visited them in the burn unit afterward and… Well, they’d never be the same. Both had “medic’ed out.” Corby had a three-year-old and his wife had been pregnant at the time of the accident.

  She’d left him.

  Matty had gone home to his parents, ordered a suicide kit from a woman in California who’d even offered priority shipping, and ended his own life. Federal agents had since raided the woman’s home, but it had been too late for his friend.

  One life gone, another ruined…and he’d come out without a blister.

  Survivor’s guilt, my ass, Jay thought. More like survivor’s shame. Survivor’s misery. Survivor’s agony.

  He couldn’t face the possibility of anything like that ever happening again, couldn’t do the job he’d been trained to do without fear of making a mistake, of jeopardizing his comrades. Of coming away unharmed again and facing the perplexed and envious looks from his friends.

  He knew they hadn’t blamed him, which was fair because it hadn’t been his fault. But they’d resented him.

  And that had been worse.

  He didn’t think he could share that with her. Hadn’t shared it with anybody.

  What was it she’d
said? A worry shared was a worry divided? Maybe so, but this was a concern he had to carry himself.

  It was the least he could do, really, all things considered.

  13

  CHARLIE’S EYES WATERED and her back ached, but she was damned pleased with what she’d put together. It had taken her almost the entire night. She glanced at the clock, noting the time, and made a snap decision.

  She needed to talk to Jay.

  She carefully opened her door, making sure to look for dental floss or any other potential alert he’d rigged, then peeked into the hall. She listened for a moment, satisfied that no one was up yet, then darted across the corridor to his door. He hadn’t bothered to lock it, which made her smile. Hopeful she’d turn up? she wondered. Or had he decided not to bother? Either way she was irrationally pleased.

  Charlie slipped into the room and scanned the dark bed for his sleeping form. He was sprawled on his side, one leg slung outside the duvet, one beneath, and his arm hung off the edge of the bed. A night-light from the bathroom illuminated the side of his face and it was so relaxed in sleep and so dear—dammit, when had that happened?—that it made a lump swell in her throat and her chest squeeze with some troubling, terrifying emotion.

  Oh, hell.

  This was not good. Not good at all.

  Just because he’d decked an asshole and rescued a girl, didn’t look at her background check when he’d had the chance, opened doors, admired her intelligence and wasn’t threatened by her strength didn’t mean she should get…attached to him.

  He’d still taken her job.

  Granted, he’d abandoned this one in his “official” capacity and had stayed on to help because it was the right thing to do—a man who did the right thing, she marveled wonderingly—but ultimately he still had taken something she’d so desperately wanted.