“The wild thing?”
She ignored him and pushed at the center of his back. He allowed her to guide him toward the bed. Once there, he peeled back the covers, then stripped down to briefs before crawling between the sheets.
“Aren’t you joining me?” he asked.
“Not yet. I slept a lot last night. I’ll be in shortly.”
“What if I get lonely?”
She bent over and kissed him briefly. “I can see you’re exhausted, so while that invitation is intriguing, we both know it’s just cheap talk.”
He stifled a yawn. “I think I liked you better back when you were a rookie and still in awe of me.”
“I was never in awe of you.”
He pulled up the covers. “Sure, you were. You used to stare at my butt during class.”
She fought against embarrassment. Was he guessing or had he really noticed? She made a guess of her own. “And you couldn’t keep your attention off of mine when we were working out together.”
He closed his eyes and grinned. “You’re right.”
She laughed softly. “Go to sleep.”
She left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. So he had been looking. The thought pleased her. Sure, it had been a long time ago, and sure, he’d broken her heart. But it was nice to know the attraction had been mutual.
Once in the parlor, she opened the small refrigerator, poured herself a soda and settled on a sofa in front of one of the wide windows. From here she could see tall buildings and a bit of the city beyond. After weeks of being at the cabin, all this life was shocking to her. It was always like that coming off an assignment. The volume of humanity startled her. There had been times she’d felt like the only living person in the world. Then she returned to a civilization that seemed like an anthill of activity. Everyone had a place to go but her. Alone by herself or alone in a crowd, it still came down to lonely.
She stared out the window and fought a feeling of uneasiness. She knew why she was unsettled, but she didn’t want to think about it. No one liked dealing with a personal weakness. But she didn’t have a choice.
When she’d seen Zach working on the truck this morning, why had she instantly assumed he was leaving her? Was her assumption of the worst about her, or about him? She’d been in relationships before. She’d met men she’d cared about. No one had touched her the way Zach had, but a few could have stolen her heart…if she’d let them.
Was that the difference? Usually she was pretty rational in her relationships. She had a good time, laughed, shared stories, went out. Some of the men had even been lovers. She’d been responsive and had enjoyed the experience. But never had she felt out of control. Her emotions were kept carefully in check. When she found herself drifting toward getting serious, she’d stopped long enough to consider her options and what she really wanted to do.
She’d been logical, knowing that her job didn’t allow for long-term commitments. Walking away hadn’t always been simple, but she hadn’t regretted any of her decisions to do so.
Why was it so different with Zach?
She sipped on her soda, then leaned back on the sofa. What was it about the man that got to her? She hadn’t been logical this morning. She hadn’t considered her options. She’d reacted, assuming he was leaving her. The pain had taken her breath away. Why did he have that kind of power over her?
She closed her eyes and fought against the truth. The battle didn’t last very long, and in the end, the truth won. Zach could destroy her with a word because she loved him with all her heart. With those other men, she’d held back pieces of herself. If the relationship didn’t work out, she could walk away whole. With Zach that wasn’t possible. She loved him fully, with every fiber. If he rejected her, then each cell in her body would bear its share of the pain.
It was more than just loving him. She’d committed to him with her very soul. That left her vulnerable and made it difficult to be logical. She wanted to be with him, no matter what. Even if it meant more pain later.
She wondered if he understood the power he had over her, then figured he probably didn’t. The Zach she knew didn’t deal with intangibles like love and commitment. Which was, she acknowledged, a terrifying thought.
Neither of them had ever been in a long-term relationship.
Neither of them had been married or even engaged. Neither of them had ever been normal, by the world’s definition of the word. She was willing to try, but she didn’t know what he wanted. For now it was enough to go on with things the way they were. This once, she was willing to risk her heart for a chance at something she’d never dared to dream about. This kind of love was worth the potential heartache.
In her heart, she wanted to believe it was going to work out. That by being together, she could convince Zach to join her on her journey to find her way to a regular life. She didn’t think he could survive going back to the field. He’d used up most of his luck. Next time she wouldn’t be around to rescue him. Next time he might die. And if not next time, then soon. If he stayed, it was inevitable.
Would he be willing to leave? Could he walk away? Would he face down the past and everything that went along with it? Would he be willing to feel? To love?
She didn’t have any answers. She could only go forward on faith, hoping that her love was enough. At times she believed everything would be fine. How could he turn his back on what they could have together? At other times, she wasn’t so sure. After all, he’d already broken her heart once.
She continued to stare out the window at the city. At some point, she must have dozed off, because when she next looked out, lights had come on in the offices across the street.
The sitting room was dark. She stood up, straightened and stretched, easing the kinks in her muscles. Her soda was warm and flat. The grandfather clock by the front door chimed the hour.
The floor lamps came on with the touch of a button on the wall. She walked over to the antique desk in the corner and found the room-service menu, then she headed for the bedroom.
The large room was dark. Drapes had been pulled across the windows. She couldn’t tell if Zach was asleep or awake. She hesitated, then figured it was important for him to eat.
“Zach,” she said softly from her place by the door. “It’s seven. Are you hungry?”
He reached for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it on, then sat up. Dark hair tumbled onto his forehead. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and stubble shadowed his jaw. He was a dangerous man, every inch a predator. She thrilled at his male beauty and wanted nothing more than to go to him and make love. But there was something odd about his expression, something that made her stay by the safety of the door.
“I was awake,” he said.
“Did you sleep?”
“For a few hours.”
“Good.” She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”
His mouth twisted down. “You stood by the door and called my name. Why didn’t you come to the bed and shake my shoulder to wake me up?”
She laughed. “Because I’m a damn good agent and I don’t want you ripping off my head. I mean that literally.”
She’d learned early on that most agents were like tigers-dangerous awake, deadly asleep. She’d forgotten the rule once on assignment and had touched a sleeping agent’s arm. In less time than it took to draw a breath, he’d had her pinned beneath him, a knife blade at her throat. It had been her first year out of training. She’d never made the mistake again.
She hugged the menu close to her chest. Zach didn’t join in her laughter. His mouth twisted down.
“You don’t seem satisfied with the answer,” she said.
He waved his hand. “It’s not that. You’re right. You are a good agent. What does it say about us that we are reduced to just reacting?”
“It means we stay alive.”
His gaze met hers. “I’m glad you’re getting out, Jamie. You deserve more than what this job has to offer.”