by Rachel Lee
“Is that how you found out about the transfers?”
She nodded. “I was helping one of the partners. He needed more time to play golf with clients, and I was promised that if I kept on being a good girl I’d make partner someday. So I took on the additional work with a smile.”
“Then kaboom.”
“Yeah, kaboom. I spent days, weeks, trying to find a way around what I suspected, until there was no way out.”
“So did he think you were too stupid to see it?”
“Either that, or he thought I wanted to be the first female partner badly enough to keep my mouth shut.”
“Big misjudgment.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“It’s not like I didn’t have a horse in this race. I could have gotten into trouble, too.”
He shook his head. “Don’t put yourself down. You reported wrongdoing to the Feds. I think an awful lot of people would have just found another job.”
“Maybe.”
He was touched when she rested her head against his shoulder. He also felt like a bit of a sham for not sharing that note with her, but still couldn’t imagine what earthly good it could do.
Besides, he was losing track of everything except the woman who was leaning against his side. He could smell her shampoo, a delicate scent like flowers, and despite her recent bath, her womanly scents were beginning to emerge somehow. They filled his head with dreams of taking her to his bed and loving her until she forgot everything else.
Shock rippled through him, but not enough to completely erase his desire for her. Man, she’d probably have nightmares if she saw the stump of his leg. It would inevitably destroy the mood. Then there was Sara, a woman they had both loved. He’d feel as if he was cheating on her, and he suspected Lacy might as well, ridiculous as that might be. Loyalties evidently didn’t go to the grave.
He sighed and reached down with his free hand to rub his stump, as if it could free him from the pain he had never felt when he was hit, pain that his body evidently refused to forget.
“Can I help?”
“Naw.” Oh yeah, she could. With a few touches she could probably carry him to a place where nothing but the two of them could exist. But afterward... Hell, he feared the guilt that might follow. He could ruin a perfectly good friendship by getting out of line with this woman.
He and Sara had once had a serious discussion about the possibility he might not return from one of his deployments. Just once, but he remembered telling her to move on with life, that he’d never forgive himself if she buried herself with him.
She’d cocked a brow in that humorous way of hers and asked, “Do you really think I’m the type to do that?”
“Just promise me,” he’d said.
It was one of those rare occasions where she’d grown utterly serious. “I’ll promise if you’ll promise me the same thing.”
Of course he’d promised. It had never occurred to him he might be the lone survivor. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel guilty anyway. Maybe he had some more demons to get past.
He realized that Lacy had unexpectedly dozed off against him. Smiling into the empty night, he removed the mug from her loosening grip and put it on the side table. He guessed she felt safe with him, but he wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea.
That note. It hung over him like a sword. What the hell did it mean? He stared into the fire, uneasiness joining the pain that crept along his nerve endings and the desire that wouldn’t stop humming quietly.
Chapter 6
The hunter waited. He waited impatiently. He didn’t think of himself as a killer, any more than a tiger did. No, this was purely self-defense. By the time the worst of the storm passed, he was crawling with the need for action, like the predator he sometimes fancied himself. Unfortunately, lessening snow and wind didn’t drive the temperatures up by much. A battery-operated radio warned him of the dangers outside.
He’d found an unoccupied house off the beaten path, not too far from his target. It was sturdy and windproof enough that he’d been able to weather the worst of the clipper with a kerosene heater. And of course he had the proper gear. If the military had taught him nothing else, it was how important proper gear was.
Right now he would have very much liked to be able to drop a rocket-propelled grenade on McGregor’s house, but that was foolish thinking and he knew it. Besides, the guy had the devil’s own luck, having already survived an RPG attack. The hunter—yes, he preferred to think of himself as a hunter, just like a tiger—had great belief in luck. McGregor should be dead. He wasn’t. Hence a problem.
Then there was the woman. Where the hell had she come from, and why was she there? He’d been watching for a while, and McGregor had never shown any romantic interest in a woman. As a widower, he was apparently still grieving, which served him right.
The hunter didn’t approve of military people getting married. Spouses at home could be a distraction. What’s more, few of the enlisted men in the lower ranks could afford to support a family. It had annoyed him how much time they’d wasted on those Skype calls home when they were at a base, reinforcing the idea they needed to survive.
A true soldier didn’t think of such things. A true soldier didn’t allow distractions. He had one purpose and one only: to win. To kill. To be killed, if necessary.
The woman surprised him, though. If anyone in the area knew a thing about her, they weren’t talking. Which, in itself, wasn’t surprising. It was a small community and he was a stranger who spent most of his time trying to avoid attention. He’d prefer it if, when he left here, nobody remembered him at all. Hell, he didn’t even eat at the diner, but occasionally at the truck stop on the edge of town where people came and went with dizzying regularity.
He’d planned well, he thought as he heated instant coffee over the kerosene heater. He didn’t stay anywhere he could be traced, he didn’t shop locally, he had a stack of MREs to eat, purchased at a military outlet long before he’d gotten here. Self-sufficient. Leaving no trail.
But that still left the problem ahead of him. Jess McGregor would be easy to take out alone. If he always had that woman with him, the possibilities that something would go wrong multiplied enormously.
However, the woman could supply him with some fun after he knocked out McGregor. That was another thing he’d learned in the military: the unparalleled pleasure of dominating a woman, taking what he wanted over her screams and protests. Not that he’d had the opportunity often. Those damn savages over there were seldom alone, and for his part he seldom got out of reach of his own unit. But once in a while...
He smiled, then sipped his coffee, which was almost hot enough to burn his tongue. Yeah, that woman could be of some use before he dealt with her, too. It might even be interesting to take a blonde. He’d never done that before. Blond hair, pale skin.
For a while, he forgot about his larger plan, indulging in some fantasy about the woman. Different, for certain.
But while the storm had passed, at least for now, the weather hadn’t warmed enough. If he was going to be outside, he’d have to stay on the move or risk frostbite. Simply lying in wait to watch could be dangerous.
So he sat on the bare floor, hunkered by his heater, and tried to pull thoughts together into a plan. But no plan would be guaranteed until he gleaned enough intelligence.
Somehow he had to find out what was going on with those two. If she was only there for a few days, he could wait and dismiss his fantasies of what he’d like to do to her.
Success depended on self-control. He could control himself as long as necessary. He had years of practice at that.
In the meantime, he wondered just how unnerved he’d made McGregor with that note. Hell, the guy probably didn’t even know which of them it was directed at.
Savoring the notion of McGregor�
��s concern, he made another cup of coffee. Oh, this was going to be good. Payback for years of worry at last.
* * *
Waking to silence the next morning seemed almost eerie to Lacy. Curious to see what the day was like, she pulled her robe on over her flannel nightgown, pushed her feet into slippers and went over to the window to draw back the heavy curtains.
Blinding sunlight greeted her, so strong she narrowed her eyes and blinked. The world had turned mostly white, although scrub still poked up everywhere, indicating the snowfall was measured in inches. Here and there, she saw a windswept dune of snow that had caught on some obstacle.
Part of her was thrilled to be done with the storm. She wasn’t used to being stuck in one place, unable to just hop into a car or a bus and go wherever she liked. Cabin fever after only two days? She could have laughed at herself. And it was such a cozy cabin to be in.
She washed quickly in the bathroom, then headed downstairs. A fire crackled in the woodstove, looking freshly fed, and warmth surrounded her. Following the aroma of coffee, she found Jess in the kitchen with a book and a mug of coffee.
“What a bright day out there,” she remarked.
He looked up with a smile. “Blinding. I hope you brought sunglasses.”
“Always have them in my purse.” She got her own coffee, then joined him at the table. “Did you sleep last night, eventually?” She almost colored as she remembered the way she had snuggled into his side. She vaguely remembered finally dozing against his shoulder in the circle of his arm, feeling so safe and secure, until finally he’d wakened her and said with obvious reluctance, “I have to move.”
She’d hardly opened her eyes as she climbed the stairs to change for bed, and was sure she couldn’t even remember the moment her head hit the pillow.
“Yeah,” he answered, still smiling pleasantly. “The pain went away.”
“But they can’t do anything about it? Really?”
He shrugged. “They tried. They can’t do any more than that. It might get better with time.”
“I hope so.” She decided a change of subject might be in order, especially when he tempted her more than a fresh cup of coffee. “It seemed eerie to wake to silence this morning. I hadn’t realized how accustomed I was getting to the sound of the wind.”
“Well, don’t get used to the quiet. We usually have some wind stirring around here, although not like yesterday.”
Almost as if to verify his comment, the window rattled. She laughed quietly. “I guess not.”
“It’s still deadly cold out there, though,” he warned her.
“Was there much snow?”
“TV said just a couple of inches. Most of it probably blew right off the roads and settled in gullies, so if you decide you want to get out later, we can probably get safely to town. Maybe find you some really good snow pants, something that’ll keep the wind out.”
“Am I going to be here that long?”
The question caused a new kind of silence in the house. Jess regarded her steadily. “Ready to move on?” he asked casually.
“I didn’t mean that.” All of sudden she felt awful. “Honestly. But how long do you want to put up with me?”
“As long as it takes, and longer if you like.” He pushed his book aside and surprised her by holding his hand out across the table.
After a moment’s hesitation, she rested her hand in his and felt his gentle grip. Sara’s husband. In that instant the little hang-up didn’t seem quite so important.
“I’m enjoying your company,” he said. “What’s more, I’m beginning to realize how little I really know about you. So I’m fascinated. You’re an intriguing woman, Lacy. You don’t share a whole lot, do you?”
“Meaning?”
“You shared your fears with me, some of the details of what you got involved in, but little more. All these years and I feel like I’ve barely scraped the surface of Lacy Devane. Odd, don’t you think?”
She bridled a bit, but didn’t remove her hand from his. His touch was welcome, comforting, stirring her in ways she didn’t dare think about. He looked so good sitting there in a black sweater that appeared to have seen many years of wear. It stretched across shoulders that must now be broader than when he’d bought it, clung to his chest muscles. Green eyes staring thoughtfully at her as if nothing else existed.
Being the total focus of this man was oddly exhilarating.
“You didn’t tell me much, either,” she answered, feeling a bit defensive.
He laughed, squeezed her fingers and let go. “Like I said, I’m enjoying having you here. Most of the time, I rattle around in this place like a mad carpenter, talking to myself.”
“You have friends, surely!”
“Of course. But most of them work, too, and have families. And I put in long days at the clinic. By choice, because I love what I do, and there’s a crying need in this county for readily accessible medical care that can’t wait for an appointment. But lest you wonder, yeah, I have friends and we get together for poker games or a few beers at Mahoney’s. Sometimes we have barbecues, but I think that’ll have to wait a few months now. I’m not a hermit. But it’s nice not to be alone in this house, so you’re welcome to share it with me for as long as you like.”
She nodded, missing his touch more than she should have. “I get it. I didn’t mean anything by that. I worked long hours, too, and for the last year and a half of that mess I couldn’t even talk to my friends. They weren’t allowed to know where I was. When I got out of protective custody...well, they’d moved on. We couldn’t quite pick up the pieces somehow.”
“Not like it was with you and Sara.”
“Never like that.”
“You two were as thick as thieves. You get close, really close to your buddies in the military, but it’s not the same as someone you’ve known your whole life.”
“How so?”
He rose, and she saw he was wearing his leg today under fleece pants. “There’s a deep bond, but it’s built on the present. Not on years and years of knowing someone. Everything is mission-focused, task-focused. You’d lay down your life for a guy you only met a few months ago. Weird, but true. But what you and Sara had...” He returned with his full cup, his smile a little off. “You knew her in ways I never could, Lacy.”
“I could say the same about you.”
At that he laughed. “True.” He sat facing her again and his smile looked more natural. “So, okay, I’m interested in getting to know you. What you like and dislike, where you’ve been. Where you’d like to go someday. Something more than watching you and Sara giggle together, and hearing about this mess you just got out of. Surely there’s another Lacy, too. Just let me know what’s off-limits.”
“What’s off-limits with you?”
His face shadowed. “The war. Let’s just put that off the table unless there’s a damn good reason to bring it up. Hell does exist on earth, but there’s no reason to open those doors.”
She bit her lip, hesitating, then blurted, “Do you have anyone at all to talk to about it?”
“Other vets,” he said simply. “They get it.”
And she never would. Those tours abroad had to have played a large part in the man he had become, but she was wise enough to realize that she had no way to truly understand. Sometimes even the best imagination had to fail, and unless you walked in someone else’s shoes, all the empathy in the world would fall short.
Nor did she have any desire to unsettle him by prying into things he didn’t want to talk about. Whatever peace he had needed to make with that part of his life, he seemed to have made it, or to be making it.
“Okay,” she said, feeling a need to reassure him. “Off the table. Not that I wanted to stir things up for you.”
The wall was there, though. It would have been there for
Sara, too. Things he wanted to spare her. Experiences no one should ever have. Parts of him could never be shared except with someone who had been there. That saddened her.
“So what about the perky nurses in the hospital?” she asked, trying to ease away from the untouchable stuff.
“Oh my God,” he groaned and made her laugh by putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know if they put them on joy juice or what.”
“Seriously?”
He lifted his head. “Well, there was one battle-ax who’d rap the end of my bed with her clipboard and tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself or she’d take me upstairs and introduce me to guys with real problems.”
Lacy drew a breath. “Really? She said that?”
“Of course she did. Life teaches you sooner or later that no matter how bad you think you have it, someone else has it worse. Sometimes it’s just hard to remember. But most of the nurses, male and female, were all perky beyond belief.” He paused, then added, “It was a bitch of a job for them. Amazing how they clung to those good spirits. They rotated a lot, so maybe that helped.”
Lacy just sat and listened, unable to think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or trite.
He shook his head. “They dealt with the detritus of war. A lot of them had even served in field hospitals. Maybe dealing with us was cheerful by comparison. I don’t know.”
“Well, you were right at the front. Maybe you do know.” Then she realized she’d gone where she had promised not to go. “Sorry. I’m getting hungry. Want me to make something?”
She pushed back from the table and stood, adding one last thing, “Don’t refer to yourself as detritus. Please.”
He let it pass, apparently willing to move on. “What are you in the mood for? We’ve got eggs, toast, some frozen hash browns, mix for pancakes and some honest-to-goodness real maple syrup.”
She paused halfway to the fridge. “Real maple syrup?”
That settled the issue for both of them. She pulled out the pancake mix after he told her where to look, found a skillet and heated it while she mixed. “Do you like them full size or dollar size?”
