Damaged

by Jeanne St. James

  He settled on the bed next to her and reached for her hand. Though she wanted him to grab her and hold her tight, make her feel safe and secure, she also didn’t want him getting closer to her. She didn’t want to rely on him or anyone. She was responsible for her own life and her own actions now.

  The only one who could protect her was…well, herself.

  She stood and slipped her hand out of his. Backing up a step toward the bedroom door, she couldn’t resist one more look at him. He was so sexy on her bed in just a towel. If she wanted him, she could have him in a second. After the kiss in the hallway, she was sure if she suggested they get naked, he wouldn’t think twice about tossing the towel to the side.

  No doubt she needed some uncomplicated loving, some tenderness, and maybe even some hot, sweaty, down-and-dirty sex, but it wasn’t her priority.

  Right now, she needed to survive, needed to get out of the bedroom. “I’m going downstairs to start a roast.” She turned and fled down the hall.

  In her haste, she barely heard Mace’s disgruntled question. “By the way, who’s Martin?”

  4

  Mace was towel-drying his hair Monday morning when the shrill ring of his cell phone cut through the air. He could work highly technical surveillance equipment, but he couldn’t even figure out how to change the damn ringtone. Not that he had given it any great effort. Especially after dealing mostly with burner phones for the past couple years.

  He limped into the bedroom and looked at the “private caller” which came up on the display. He reluctantly answered it before the voicemail could pick up.

  “So, how are you feeling?” a very familiar male voice asked.

  Mace sat on the bed and threw the damp towel over his naked lap. “Lousy. Are you calling for a reason?”

  “Not really. I’m just checking on one of my best men. Did you shave that mess off your face yet?”

  “No.” Mace rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “I like it. I think I’ll keep it for a while.”

  “It makes you look—”

  “Like a criminal. I’ve already heard. Flattery will get you everywhere. Hey, did you call the house phone yesterday?” It would be like his boss to hang up if a stranger’s voice answered. To avoid any questions, his superior would say.

  “I have your cell.”

  Yeah, that was the perfect answer. But he was right. He had Mace’s cell, there would be no reason to call the house.

  “Is there a problem, Walker?”

  “No. No, nothing.” Nothing but some kiddies prank calling the house.

  “If there is, I’m sure it’s something you can handle.”

  “Yeah. In that case, I’m glad you waited until now to call. There’s a woman staying here. Fortunately, she’s at work right now.”

  “I know. You’re speaking of Ms. Colby Parks.”

  Mace gripped the phone tighter. “You know?”

  “Of course. I wouldn't let you walk unknowingly into a situation which might be dangerous.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. Everything I do, every situation you send me into, is dangerous.” Mace glanced at the full gun clip still sitting on his nightstand. He picked it up and studied it. Out of habit, he pushed the top round with his thumb, testing the tightness of the clip’s spring. It was a motion he’d done thousands of times; for some reason, it comforted him. “Speaking of dangerous, she almost shot me thinking I was a burglar. It would have been nice if you’d warned me.”

  He thought he heard a chuckle, or it might just have been choking, on the other end. “It wouldn’t have been any fun, though. Maybe she’ll keep you on your toes, keep you from getting fat and lazy during your little recuperation.” His next response was dead serious. “I checked her out.”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me? Actually, you beat me to it. I was going to call the Bureau today.” He placed the clip next to the framed pictured of his parents. “So you know my sister married and is on her honeymoon?”

  “Yes. She married over a month ago. She told me, but I couldn’t pass that on to you. Simply bad timing. First, you were too deep undercover. And then with your little mishap, well, I didn’t want you to be bothered.”

  Little mishap.

  “Right.” Mace gave a dry laugh. “Do you at least know who she married, where she went?”

  No matter how many times he’d tried to coax the information out of Colby, she’d clam up and tell him to find out for himself. She believed if Maxi wanted him to know, she would have told him. Which was untrue. He wanted to explain it had to do with the circumstances of his career, but Mace decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. He had to pick his battles, and he preferred the one where he worked on getting her comfortable enough with him to get naked.

  Priorities.

  He smiled at the image. But his boss’ voice broke into his thoughts, ruining his fantasy.

  “Of course. I know everything. She married the banker who backed Ms. Parks’ atrocious project, the one on Shady Lane. That’s how your sister met Ms. Parks. Do you like her?”

  Mace ignored the question. “She’s horrifying with a gun.”

  “A Glock—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know everything. You’re too thorough.”

  “I have to be. Our lives depend on it, Walker. I assume you don’t want me to tell you everything about her. A mysterious woman can be so much more…intriguing.” Papers rustled on the other end of the line. “I hope you’ll keep up your physical therapy—and I don’t mean naked romper room with Ms. Parks. Try to heal quickly. I might need you to replace another agent on assignment. He’s getting too personally involved.”

  “A woman?”

  “Mmm. Unfortunately, she’s on the wrong side.”

  “A fatal mistake,” Mace said. “But, of course, you know that. If possible, I’d like to stick around for a couple months.”

  “Until your sister returns from abroad?”

  “Is that where she is?”

  “Yes, her new husband has family in England. They decided to tour Europe.” The man laughed. “It has to be you want to wait around to see your sister. I can’t imagine you’d want to stay just to help Ms. Parks fix up her ugly, old house.”

  “It really isn’t so bad.” Did he actually just say that?

  “And she’s worth it even if it is, right? Maybe she’ll help you feel better. Have her help with your PT exercises.” His boss chuckled.

  Perhaps a couple months around Colby would make him feel better. If she was willing. “Does Maxi even know what happened?”

  A telling silence answered him. Of course not, otherwise his baby sister wouldn’t have gone off to Europe. She would have been worried sick. She would have put off her wedding, put her life on hold. Maybe it was better Maxi didn’t know.

  The man cleared his throat. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  Mace stared at the cell for a moment as it went dark, and then he tossed it on the bed.

  Now that he knew his boss hadn’t called yesterday, he thought about Colby’s reaction. Why was she all shook up from one hang-up? Okay two; there had been one later in the evening. But he got to the phone first, and it had been just a quick click and a dial tone.

  Mace played the second one off as another wrong number since Colby had been within earshot. He ended up telling her someone was trying to order Chinese food and had misdialed. Whether she believed him or not, who knew, but at least she hadn’t freaked like the last time.

  When he’d asked her whether the hang-ups had been a reoccurring thing before he’d come home, she changed the subject. He let it go. For now. But he would get to the bottom of it one way or another.

  Late in the afternoon, Mace heard a car drive up and opened the front door to see who it was. He surprised himself; he never even looked out the peephole first. It felt good to open a door without fear of some thug blowing holes in him. Three days home, and he was starting to relax already.

  Colby parked a bright red, but older, convertible next to h
is not so bright, old Ford truck. He spotted the groceries in the back seat and went to help her.

  “Sharp,” he said, snagging a couple of the bags.

  Colby handed him a third and grabbed one herself. “Me or the car?”

  “Both. I didn’t think you had a vehicle.”

  “It was at the garage. Needed a water pump.”

  He followed her into the house. “Yeah? Too bad I didn’t arrive sooner. I’m great with cars.”

  “And women?” she tossed over her shoulder.

  He grinned. “Them too.”

  “Did you learn your mechanical skills at—”

  Mace dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table in time to cover her mouth with his hand. “Don’t. I’ve had enough of your jailhouse wisecracks.”

  His fingers against her warm, moist lips immediately sent a shock wave down to his groin. He wanted to run his thumb along her bottom lip and then dip it in and out of her mouth until it was wet. He would follow his thumb with his tongue. And other things. Or just one other thing: his aching, swollen cock. His eyelids lowered with need until Colby stepped away from him, breaking his contact, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Too close to home?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

  Good. Maybe he affected her like she affected him. “No.”

  “So, tell me what you do for a living.”

  He broke eye contact first, because if he hadn’t, he would have pushed her Miss Proper skirt up and slammed his cock home very improper-like against the kitchen cabinet. Frontward, backward, he wouldn't be picky.

  Instead, he concentrated hard on the subject at hand. “You first. What do you do with your days, Ms. Parks?”

  “You’re avoiding the question. Finish carrying in the groceries while I unpack them, and then, and only then, I might play your little game, Mr. Walker.”

  If she only knew what game he really wanted to play with her…

  He behaved himself and brought in the rest of the bags. Settling into a chair, he regarded Colby while she started dinner.

  “Are you an MCP?”

  A what? He shot her a questioning look.

  “A male chauvinist pig,” she clarified. “Don’t you cook or clean or do laundry?”

  Mace smiled. “I try to avoid it at all costs.”

  “So, who normally does all your domestic duties?”

  “Here we go with the questions again. You still need to answer mine.”

  She gave a little shrug. “Fine.”

  He stood and moved in behind Colby. She started when she turned around and found him so close. Close enough to feel her heat. And make him lose his mind.

  “What are you doing?”

  The tremble in her voice caught his attention and threw a little cold water on his steaming hot libido. “Helping. I assume that’s what you wanted when you started in on the male chauvinist crap.”

  When her relief was obviously clear, Mace shook his head. Three days had gone by. They’d eaten meals and watched TV together, and he had even helped her paint her yellow kitchen. Not to mention the make-out session in the hallway yesterday. But she still hadn’t relaxed around him yet.

  Thinking about their up-close and personal time on Sunday made his cock snap right back up to attention. But he needed to be cautious. Even though he wanted to get down and dirty with her, discover all her secrets, he couldn’t push too hard. Not yet. He didn’t want to scare her away. Hell, if he wasn’t careful, the sexual tension would kill him.

  “You’ve read my mind. You can make the salad.”

  If they were reading each other’s minds, he was in trouble. Because right now, his mind was dirty, dirty, so fucking filthy. He imagined digging his fingers deep into her fireball mane while she sucked him off. She would be on her knees, and he would be guiding her head back and forth. Her wet mouth around his cock, little moans escaping her lips…

  Mace bit off a groan and removed the rinsed vegetables out of the colander where they’d been drip-drying. He grabbed a cutting board and sat back down at the table to chop them. He had to concentrate on something else. Like lettuce.

  “Can’t you do that here at the counter?”

  “No. Sometimes, I can’t stand on my leg too long.”

  Her eyes raked him, then settled on his legs. Damn. He wished it were her hands following the lines of his jeans instead. She wasn’t helping him get his mind out of the gutter.

  “Why?”

  He cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

  She raised her palms up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll tell you about me first.” After Colby placed two thick steaks on the broiler pan and got some baby red potatoes boiling, she turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. At least she seemed a bit more comfortable now.

  “I’m a biochemist.”

  “Impressive.” He clumsily peeled a carrot, attempting to keep the long orange strips in a pile. Concentrating on the vegetables helped to relieve some of the tension within him. “What’s that?” He glanced up from his detested work when he heard her laugh.

  Hands planted on her hips, she gave him a look of surprise. “How could something impress you when you don’t know what it is?”

  “That’s why I’m impressed. I never said I was smart.”

  “I thought all inmates had a right to an education.” She raised her hands up in surrender again at his grimace. “Sorry. I promise, no more digs.” She grabbed the dishtowel which hung over the oven door handle and wiped her hands, then she drifted over to the table and snagged a stalk of celery to munch on. “I specialize in the chemical composition and behavior of living organisms. I work for Malvern University.”

  If she was trying to dumbfound him, she succeeded. He couldn’t have felt any dumber. “Can you elaborate a little more? I think you lost me.”

  “I study the effects of food or hormones, or even drugs, on living things.”

  Ah. “Like people?” I could tell you about the effects of drugs on people.

  “People, animals, plants. Whatever.” She pointed the ragged stub of celery in his direction. “Whatever the University wants me to do, I do. They’re the ones paying my salary.”

  “I bet it’s a pretty nice salary too.”

  “It could be better. I only have my Masters. To earn more, I’d need my Ph.D.”

  Only has her Masters. Right. “Are you considering it?” He took the salad bowls Colby handed him and filled them with the unevenly chopped veggies. “Going back to school, I mean.”

  “No. I enjoy working in the lab and in the field. I don’t want an administrative position. No matter how much they earn.”

  “I can understand that. I wouldn’t want to be stuck behind a desk either.” Mace caught the towel Colby tossed to him and wiped his hands. “How did you get to work this morning? I would have given you a ride. The University isn’t very close.”

  “Martin, my assistant. He was kind enough to pick me up this morning and drop me off at the garage after work. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Just nice, huh?” Mace wondered if there was more. He waited, but she said nothing else about her co-worker.

  Malvern University. When he said he was impressed, he meant it. It was a prestigious school. His parents had moved to this college “town” when he and Maxi were young. Their professor father taught there until he died. Maxi also got her degree there. Mace had different ideas when he went to college; he found the farthest school from home in the lower forty-eight. Like he could have gotten into Malvern in the first place—

  “So, what’s with the leg?” Colby asked, jolting him back to the present.

  “I was shot.” Her question had come so unexpectedly, he answered before he could think about it. Damn.

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “So you weren’t kidding? What, in a prison riot?” The color in her cheeks darkened when she realized what she said. “I’m sorry. If you would just tell me what you do for a living, I’d stop.”

  “Why is it so important? What if I just
like to travel around like a bum?”

  “Why would you want to when you have a nice home here?”

  “I don’t know. I get bored?”

  “No. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I won’t tell anyone. Promise.” She crossed her fingers and made an X with them over her heart.

  Mace smiled at the gesture. He wanted to trust her. He really did. But after years and years of getting good at lies, the truth didn’t come so easily. It was difficult to step back into his “real life.” Or what he thought should be his real life.

  “Can I see your leg?”

  Once again, her question caught him off guard. Mace put down the paring knife he absently played with before he accidentally sliced off his finger. Did she want him to pull his pants down in the middle of the kitchen before dinner? Not that he minded getting naked for her, but he wanted to show her something besides his injury.

  As if she read his mind, she quipped, “I don’t mean now. Later.”

  “I thought you were a scientist. Not a doctor.”

  “I’m still interested. A scientist is interested in all living things. And in this particular instance, I’m interested how metal affects human flesh.”

  “Not very well, I can attest to that. It hurts and looks like hell. But if you really want to see it, you have to promise to kiss it and make it better.”

  She probably thought he joked. He didn’t. He believed if she would only place her sweet, luscious lips on his healing leg, all the hurt might disappear. Hell, it was worth a try.

  “I promise.” She laughed.

  Mace joined in her laughter. Little did she know, he would make her keep her promise. “Tell me more about this Martin.”

  She gave him her back. “He’s a nice guy I work with.”

  And spent last Sunday morning with him at an auction and bargain hunting. Who knows what else. “Yeah, you already said that.”

  “That about covers it.”

  Colby glanced up from the sitcom she watched. The popcorn bowl balanced on her lap tilted dangerously. Luckily, she caught it in time and placed it on the coffee table which sat in front of the couch. “Oh, my God.”