The Last Man She'd Marry

by Helen R. Myers

  “That’s great news.”

  Finished with his arm, Alyx fussed over the Band-Aid on his forehead that was already coming loose. “Better anyway.”

  “Maybe that’s a sign that you need to continue letting your guard down a little more.”

  “You think? G-man, that’s what got me in this condition.” Lifting her sardonic gaze to meet his, she added, “And look who’s talking—Mr. Ask Me No Questions so I Don’t Have to Spin Tall Tales.”

  “I don’t recall you asking me anything that I couldn’t answer.”

  Alyx didn’t yield a centimeter. Nose to nose, she countered, “That’s because I wasn’t interested in any classified information—and the only personal question about your life I needed to know about was if you’d had a recent health check.”

  How many times did she think it was fair to wound a guy? “What was I to you, a mere sex object? In the beginning, okay. But—” He had to stop before he said something that made him sound even more stupid. Good grief, he felt like a male blond joke. “Why do you think I made all of those trips down to Austin?” he asked her, still not able to believe what she was telling him.

  “You said you were working on cases.”

  “Every few weekends? Over holidays? Come on, Alyx. We spent every spare minute you had together, didn’t that give you a clue?”

  In the reverberating silence Jonas suspected he’d gone too far. Raising his voice could have reminded her of Cassandra’s husband…or maybe her father, or both.

  “So I’m an awful person because you’re realizing that there are women who don’t live and breathe to trap you into a wedding proposal?”

  Sometimes there was nothing left to do but cut to the important thing. Jonas knew important—the feeling of his lips touched hers. Clasping his hand behind her head, he claimed her mouth with his.

  It would be a lie to deny there wasn’t some anger at first. The woman could wear out a water buffalo with her determination not to yield an inch of ground once she felt she was right. But the feel of her pliable, silken lips, combined with her taste, soon made him push the rest out of his mind. That was a humbling experience as well.

  Relief came when he slanted his head and sought a deeper kiss. Finally she gripped his shoulders and responded with equal hunger, their tongues colliding and stroking in a sudden frenzy of yearning, more intense because of familiarity. As sensations ricocheted through him, he slipped his arm around her waist to draw her closer to where heat and need ignited first. Sweet heaven, he’d missed this, her. When she arched closer to his inevitable arousal, he groaned, already remembering the last time they’d been together, naked, and as one.

  “I miss you so damned much I hurt,” he rasped.

  “Jonas…Jonas…this is crazy.”

  “Crazy is good if it feels like this.”

  As quickly as she began pulling away, Alyx clung to him again and kissed him as though it was their first passion all over. Breathing was forgotten. Injuries were an aside. They could have been Shakespeare’s youngest lovers in those few tempestuous, healing seconds. Torturous moments because they couldn’t last.

  The instant she accepted that truth, Alyx pushed him away with an anguished, “No!”

  “Why not?” Jonas asked between shallow breaths.

  “Because I’ve worked too hard to get my head straight to lose myself in you again.”

  Again? Had he managed to get a confession out of her after all? “We can take things at your pace.” That was laughable since his body had just told her otherwise. “If anyone understands, it’s me.”

  “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. The other is that you’ve already got one failed marriage on your résumé, you work for a government agency that is as likely as not to stick you in some forsaken place, or worse, get you killed.”

  “Well, I hate to bring this up, sweetheart, but you’ve come closer to that probability than I have.”

  “That was a low blow.”

  “No, it was honest—something we could use a little more of around each other.”

  “I have been honest. I’ve asked for nothing from you, and I’ve thanked you repeatedly for your company.”

  “You haven’t asked for anything, out of fear,” Jonas snapped. “You’re afraid of being rejected or left behind.”

  Alyx stiffened. “I’m done with this conversation. You’ve got the wrong woman. I’m not the commitment kind, let alone the marrying kind, and even if I were, you’d be the last man I’d consider.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was a good thing that Jonas needed to leave to find suitable glass to replace the one he’d ruined—at least until someone could create the real thing for Parke. Alyx needed time to recover from her outburst.

  The look on his face would not be easy to forget. But it had been panic that made her blurt out what she did. He’d had no business forcing that confrontation.

  Nevertheless, when he returned almost ninety minutes later, she was relieved. A part of her had feared he’d hire someone to do the job at any cost to avoid having to face her again. Goodness, considering his cuts, she should have insisted.

  “Can I help you get it out of the car and set into the frame?” she asked him, now that she was thinking more clearly.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “Better yet, let me call for tradesmen to deal with this. If you open that deepest cut—”

  “I won’t.”

  Alyx winced at his formal tone but was glad he accepted her assistance; the job would have been nearly impossible for one person trying to solo it. Thank goodness Jonas had some skills as a handyman, as well. He was caulking the new pane in place in no time.

  “I’m impressed,” she told him.

  “Be sure to tell your cousin that I’m good for the real thing whenever she decides what she wants.”

  “She’s going to understand, Jonas.” Besides, Alyx saw it as her fault that he’d felt a need to break in, and she would be handling the expense herself. Stripping off the gloves she’d put on to help move and hold the glass, she added, “Would you like a beer or glass of wine? You have to be thirsty. How about ice water?”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure you’re ready to see the last of me.”

  She was ready for her life to begin resembling something that felt comfortable—and this sure wasn’t it. “What I’m ready for is a glass of wine—and you said you want to wait and see that the caulk holds, so I’m getting you a glass, too.”

  As she poured, Alyx took comfort in the fact that Jonas hadn’t rejected the offer outright. He’d had every right to. But since he was here, she could at least try to make him understand that her rejection might have been mostly reaction, but her mindset wasn’t about him—she was simply the square peg not fitting in the round hole.

  She found him sitting on the biggest garden rock out front. “Please come inside and cool off,” she said as she held both glasses. “The caulk won’t dry any faster with you watching it, while you bake out here. Our ancestors said as much.”

  “I don’t exactly remember that old saying.”

  “Remember ‘a watched pot never boils’? Same logic.”

  “So even out of the courtroom you’ve got a comment on everything.”

  “I had a professor in law school who was like no one in the business. He reminded me of a high-school general business teacher I’d had. You didn’t just learn the mechanics, you got homilies, anecdotes, his personal history…it was all about understanding that most of the people you met in the courtroom might not be like you on one or several levels. They came with their own baggage. The better you were at drawing out that information, the more likely you’d get a jury you wanted. Even though I didn’t go into trial law, I never forgot those classes.”

  Accepting the glass, Jonas murmured, “It shows.” He cast her a dubious glance. “You’re okay with that?”

  “You coming inside? Don’t be silly. Besides, I need to watch about too much sun. I’m part vampire if you
haven’t already figured that out.” She didn’t quite make him laugh, but he followed her inside where she led him to Parke’s studio. “I didn’t get to show you this the other day. When I have trouble sleeping, I come here.”

  Jonas stopped in his tracks and gaped. “Damn.”

  “Exactly.”

  Everything here was a work in progress. Parke worked in moods and she needed breaks between commissions to revive her body and spirit. Four projects in the cathedral-like room were in various stages of completion. That was the maximum overbooking she would allow herself out of concern about disappointing a client. One work was a twelve-foot-tall cemetery monument to honor a soldier-son; the second was a fountain to enhance a bird-lover’s garden; the third was a tribute to a granddaughter taken from her family and the fourth was confusing because it was still in several pieces.

  “It’s to be a part of a vast hotel waterfall,” Alyx told him. “At this stage it seems like something out of Peter Pan, doesn’t it?”

  “I think it does.” Jonas sipped his wine and did a solo walk around the room. “At the end of a life involving work like this, you can’t say you’re clueless as to what you’ve accomplished.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  He returned to her side. “So you two are close?”

  “Strange as it might seem we are, in an oddly scheduled kind of way. We won’t speak for a month, then one day she’ll call with a need for a dog-and-house sitter, and…here I am because I realized I was in a need of a change of scenery.”

  “This is a paternal cousin?”

  “No, my mother’s sister’s only child. It seems they both chose badly when it came to life partners.”

  “Am I supposed to say, ‘No wonder you don’t want anything to do with relationships’?”

  “I suppose you could, and I suspect there’s an ounce or pound of truth in that depending on whether you believe that nature or nurture has the prevalent influence in our lives.”

  “And you believe?”

  “That I’m off the clock and with no one relying on me for my judgment, I don’t have one…or I don’t care to dwell, explain, defend or worry about it. I simply wanted you to see Parke’s talent.”

  She figured she owed him. That’s why she’d brought him back into the house, back here where Parke’s energy was at its most visual. Her cousin was more open and maybe if she could channel some of that energy, she and Jonas could make peace so there would be no more hard feelings. It was as simple as that.

  “And I thought I was facing burnout.”

  The possibility had occurred to her. Early in her career she’d dealt with a number of public defenders and that burnout ratio had been frightening. Since then she’d seen how many people in almost every area of law or law enforcement had to deal with moments when they questioned, “What’s it all about?” and “Do I want to continue doing this until I retire…if I make it that long?” He might be in a loftier agency with more respect and clout, but it probably wasn’t any different for agents like him, either.

  Pausing by the back doors that overlooked a hiker’s trail and more red-rock monuments, Alyx noted how the color of her wine against the backdrop of cactus, earth and sky not only worked together, but made her feel one with this environment.

  “I’m not burned out, Jonas. I still believe in keeping people like E.D. from getting mauled by the predators that use the legal system for profit. But I am grateful I can take this break without having to hear whispers from back home that I’ve signed myself into some luxury rehab place.”

  When he arrived beside her, he leaned against the wood of the French doors and studied her profile, not the exquisite scenery outside. “Can I ask again if you’re in a lot of pain?”

  “This dry heat has been a relief, and the therapy has me at about eighty-five-percent mobility. Losing almost six pounds hasn’t hurt, either.”

  “You didn’t need to lose weight, Alyx.”

  “My designer suits would tell you otherwise.”

  “Sure, shatter my cleavage fantasy.”

  “I was endowed amply enough in that department,” she replied, patting his chest as she began to return to the kitchen. “Sometimes more isn’t more.”

  “No, in your case it’s perfect.” With a smooth turn, Jonas blocked her way and, searching her eyes, he noted, “Yes, everything is healing—except for your hearing.”

  What was she supposed to do? When he was close like this, her lips tingled with the need to feel them pressed to his again, her fingers itched to touch him. Like any couple that had been intimate numerous times, they each knew the other’s body as well as their own. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but there was no escaping reality when they stood this close. Hadn’t he said it himself? “We fit.”

  “Kiss me,” he murmured. “Call it a goodbye, or no hard feelings, or—damn the reasons, just—”

  She did. Lifting her chin, she touched her lips to his and savored his surprise and subsequent pleasure. Then, like someone parched with thirst, he pressed closer to drink in all of her that he could.

  It wasn’t fair to be reminded of what she’d been missing, what she was determined to give up. But one way or another, saying goodbye was the reasonable thing to do. He was at a crossroads himself, clearly moving on, even though he didn’t know to what or to where. Forced by life’s circumstances and admitted personal decisions, they were heading in different directions. Maybe in that case it wasn’t crazy to be a little indulgent this one last time.

  Alyx put all of herself into the kiss and that was a pleasure in itself. She’d never been able to let down her guard totally with a lover—not until Jonas. They were still strangers in many, no, in most, ways, yet in bed, they seemed to know each other effortlessly. She would never forget him and had lain awake many a night wishing for him. But, better that, she concluded, than to have never experienced such sensual perfection.

  “There you go thinking again,” Jonas said against her forehead as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “I was in danger of letting this glass slip from my fingers and I know how expensive these are—I sent them to Parke as a housewarming present when she moved out here.”

  “What a lovely compliment.” He angled his head to nuzzle her ear, only to nip at her diamond stud earring. “I like knowing I might be able to make you lose control.”

  “You always could, from that first night.” She remembered the heat that had raced through her body when they’d followed E.D. and Dylan out of her office building and Jonas had retraced his steps, pretending to need to ask her another question. However, what he’d done was to ask her out for a drink, while his gaze had boldly offered more. “Do you think E.D. and Dylan knew what was happening between us?” she asked, before letting the last sip of wine slide down her parched throat.

  “They only had eyes for each other.”

  “He never asked you later?”

  “Nope. Too much of a gentleman. When we were young Turks, he might have, but only if we’d been alone.” Jonas brushed his lips along her jaw. “It’s a little late to worry about it now.”

  “I’m not worried.” She doubted it would have changed things anyway. Desire had never come so quickly or been so completely consuming. She’d just wondered if that had radiated from her as powerfully as she suspected it did. That relentless craving for him was back again and she knew her lacy bra was exposing that through her silk blouse.

  Never one to miss much, Jonas brushed his knuckles over one taut bud, and Alyx couldn’t hide the soft hitch in her breathing, or the shiver that sped through her. When Jonas kissed her again, she let her body gravitate to his, the need to ease a deep ache stronger than her willpower to be sensible.

  Jonas rewarded her with a low groan. “That is more delicious than any wine every created.” Blindly reaching out, he set his empty glass on a workstation, then cupped her hips and rocked himself slowly and repeatedly against her.

  To keep herself from ripping at the neckline of his
shirt and pressing her lips there, Alyx sought another kiss. He responded with even greater hunger, his tongue matching the rhythm of his hips until she could feel herself melting, and hear her pounding heartbeat echoing in her ears.

  “Damn, Alyx,” Jonas rasped. “In another second I’m going to ruin your reputation and maybe your cousin’s by pulling one of these tarps to the floor and dragging you down on top of it—joggers and birdwatchers with binoculars be warned.”

  Almost mournfully, she told him, “If it was a moonless night, and I was twenty-something, I might let you.”

  “Lady, you don’t need to hide anything. You’re hotter than any androgynous kid, and will be at seventy-something.”

  “In that case, I just remembered I need to feed Grace.”

  “Speaking of skeletons…what’s that take, a deboned chicken wing and three kernels of dry dog food?”

  It was time, Alyx knew, to take hold of his hand and lead him to the kitchen. She even began to say, “Come on. I’ll pour you another wine if—”

  Jonas didn’t let her finish. Leading her away from the windows, he brought her to an antique chaise longue behind a workbench, obviously where Parke rested when she needed time to study the possibilities of a piece…or to hide from the intimidation of it. Jonas’s mind was too fixated on other possibilities to give that anything other than cursory thought.

  “What are you doing?” Alyx cried as he grabbed a sheet and tossed it over the couch.

  “You know.”

  “That’s insane. Even if we could, you’ll open those cuts.”

  “Then be gentle with me.” With a smile turning his blue eyes almost silver, he silenced her with another kiss. Maybe he was pushing his luck, he thought as he plucked her glass from her fingers, but he figured he had nothing to lose. If he let her send him away this time, he had a hunch her determination would compound and there would never be a next time. Now that she’d let him touch her, taste her again, he had to have everything.