The Soul Jar

by Jennifer Colgan

  “Gino struck me as the type of guy with a lot of enemies.”

  “You’re looking at one of them, luv. But I wouldn’t have been so blatant. Whoever did it was either very confident, or very, very lucky.”

  “Unless they were after me or you. How do you know it wasn’t something he ate besides the pills? Maybe his coffee was poisoned.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know for sure, and right now I don’t want to know. I’m more interested in what you’re not telling me.”

  Chance took a step closer to the bed, and Bree tensed. “Truth has a price,” she said.

  He sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’ve told you everything, Bree. You owe me the same.”

  Despite her fatigue, she bolted upright. “I owe you? That’s rich, MacKenzie. You left me alone in Kingston, alone in the whole world without you. You let me think I was responsible for your death. And now I owe you?”

  She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and bent to retrieve her shoes. “I’m finished with this game.”

  Chance caught her arms and dragged her toward him. She struggled at first, angry still at his words and at herself for being so close to forgetting his betrayal.

  With so much at stake, how could she want him so badly?

  “You’re not leaving, Bree.” Chance wrapped his arms around her and stilled her anger with his body. Before she could reply, he pushed her flat on her back, his arms around her, his face hovering above hers. “What do you want? Do you want me to apologize for Kingston? I could never be sorry enough for what I did to you. Do you want me to promise you the future I threw away two years ago? If I wasn’t afraid we’d both end up dead this time, I’d book us on the first flight to the farthest corner of the world, and I’d give you the life we planned together, but Garadeshi won’t let me. I can’t let Mallory die, and I refuse to turn you into a fugitive. That’s not what I wanted for you—for us. When I realized that’s what our lives would be like if we screwed Montague and walked away from him, I decided you were better off without me. I still think that’s true.”

  Bree took up the fight again as a sob bubbled up from deep inside her. She hated herself for it. “Who left it up to you to decide what was best for me?”

  “I was selfish. I wanted you, regardless of the consequences.” Chance shook her a little, and she arched under him, wanting to get away and get closer at the same time.

  “I knew the risks.”

  “No. You didn’t. I was never able to tell you everything. In this line of work, we can never be completely truthful with each other. We still can’t.”

  She heaved under him, and their legs tangled together. One of his lean thighs slipped between hers, and her breath caught as her body reacted to the intimate intrusion. “Do you want honesty now? Here you go: Firenze is probably having me followed to make sure I don’t bolt. I did a few very illegal things while trying to get information about your death. I was careless and I got caught. Firenze knew my background, and he made a deal with me. He gave me this assignment, not because I’m good at what I do, and not because I don’t have a traceable CIA profile, but because I’m expendable. This is my ticket out of jail. The trouble I caused a few people in the upper echelons will be politely swept under the rug when my mission is complete. I’ll have the option to walk away and start a new life. Now that I know you’re alive, maybe I can even enjoy that life a little bit.”

  Chance stared into Bree’s eyes and lost himself again in the cool blue. What had he done? How could he have put her through all that grief? Could he ever make up for it?

  Without thought to the consequences, he kissed her. When he captured her lips and thrust his tongue inside, taking what he had no right to, she made a sound of surrender that drove him over the edge of reason.

  Two years of loving her only in his dreams melted away with the sensation of her lips parting beneath his. Her body relaxed, and he released his hold, allowing her arms to come around him. Her warm hands came up to caress his face while he delved in, and she met him eagerly. He broke the kiss long enough to raise his lips and taste the salty tears that ran down her cheeks.

  “God, Bree. I missed you.”

  She hushed him with a deeper kiss that ignited his every nerve ending. “I need you inside me,” she whispered as their mouths came together once more.

  Chapter Nine

  All coherent thought fled the moment the words left Bree’s lips. She wanted him so badly that none of what had come before mattered anymore. She needed him to fill the gaping crater he’d left in her heart and to be one with him again, even if it was only just for now.

  She didn’t need to ask him twice.

  He slid his hands up under her shirt and helped her pull the clingy, black material over her head. She arched her back and sighed as he lowered his head and explored each inch of skin the movement revealed. He pulled her bra aside and captured one hard nipple in his mouth. The sweetest sensation assaulted her when he sucked the tender flesh against his hot tongue. An explosion of need arrowed to her core, awakening places inside that she’d thought long dead.

  While he played, teasing her nipples with his tongue and teeth, their lower bodies wrestled until he settled his hips between her legs. Open beneath him, she felt the erection that had begun to grow when he pressed her against the wall down in the street. She’d forgotten his size, forgotten the feeling of completeness she’d experienced when he filled her. She couldn’t wait any longer to feel that again.

  “Now, now.” She whimpered in anticipation as he circled one hand around his huge belt buckle and wrestled with it. The sight of him yanking the stiff leather band of his belt aside made her instantly wet. He let the open belt dangle as he unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. She helped him pull down the waistband of her pants and strip off her underwear to expose her stomach and the dark curls of her mound.

  She gasped when he claimed that sensitive spot at the juncture of her thighs. He clasped her there, his fingers delving toward her opening and putting delicious pressure on the swollen flesh. He pressed down with the heel of his hand, stroking her, setting her on fire with each movement.

  Naked now and panting, her skin tingling and moist, she pulled him down on her. “Now!”

  “No.” He reared up instead, opened his pants but didn’t shed them. She saw the tip of his cock straining against his briefs, and she licked her lips.

  “I want you now.”

  “You’ll get what you want. Just be patient.” He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. Muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin as he dug a condom packet out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed beside her. Bree might have laughed at his preparedness, but she was too desperate for release. With deliberate movements he climbed back onto the bed and hovered above her. His gaze raked over her, and she felt it as acutely as if he’d run a hand up her body. “My God, Bree. You’re so beautiful.”

  “You too…” She sighed and reached for him, grazed his dark nipples with the tips of her fingers. She skimmed the ridges of his abdomen and dipped one finger beneath the wide waistband of his underwear. She saw his muscles contract, his cock surge, but he caught her hand and trapped it above her head.

  “Let me. Let me do it the way you like it. I remember everything.”

  She arched again. The tingling between her legs intensified, and she clenched her intimate muscles to try to calm the ache. Could it ever be as good as she remembered it?

  “Please!”

  He covered her mouth with a demanding kiss and stretched out against her. She felt the cold metal of the belt buckle pressing into her thigh, the rough fabric of his jeans pushing against her moist folds and rubbing maddeningly against her clit.

  “Come on,” he urged, lowering his weight and pressing his hips against hers. “Feel it. Give me your hand.”

  She tangled her fingers with his and let her eyes flutter closed as he guided her fingers between their bodies. She felt her own soft skin glide
beneath her hand and give way to silky curls as he led her to her own slick moisture.

  “That’s it.” He punctuated his words with a quick thrust of his hips that drove her fingers and his deeper between her legs.

  Bree gasped when she felt the rigid flesh of her sex, somehow much more sensual with his fingers there beside hers, massaging her in gentle strokes. He rocked his hips again, each movement bringing the tip of his cock higher.

  Bree’s first orgasm hit hard. She cried out and bucked against it, not expecting to come so quickly just from having his hand and hers together on her needy flesh. It had been so long since she’d wanted to feel this way, since she’d cared.

  He hadn’t lied. He still remembered exactly what she liked. As the waves of sensation dissipated and her tense muscles relaxed, she smiled languidly at him. She wanted so much more, but right now, she was too weak with her own pleasure to demand anything.

  While her inner muscles continued to pulse, Chance pushed her hand away. He freed his cock completely from the confines of his briefs and retrieved the condom packet. He donned the latex and positioned himself right where she wanted him. Magically, he seemed to know just when she needed it, and as she reached the peak of the next wave, he plunged inside her.

  The sensation as he slid into her shuddering flesh made her rise up and cry out again. She curled around him, clasping his strong back and squeezing hard as he pumped in perfect anti-rhythm to her orgasm.

  Her body contracted as he pushed inside, spreading her and making her feel virginally tight. As she released him, he pulled back just enough, and with the next wave, he dove in again, harder this time and harder still. Her next orgasm began to build on the heels of the first.

  As he worked her, Chance reached down between them again and scissored his fingers against her clit. He massaged the pulsing bit of flesh harder and harder as he rocked in and out. Bree tensed as the wave built within her, drawing up her muscles then exploding in a flood of pleasure that left her sobbing his name.

  “Yes, luv. I remember everything about you—how you taste, how you feel and how long I can keep you going.”

  “Are you ready yet…?” She panted the words as the ebbing tide inside her left her weak and pliant in his arms.

  “Not quite yet.” He punctuated his response by angling her hips and driving himself in even deeper. The pressure against her clit made her wild with need again. Once more he shifted his weight and began massaging her with his thumb while he pumped into her, increasing his rhythm to match that of her ragged panting. When the next orgasm hit her, she clawed at him to bring him closer and deeper, and she threw her head back and screamed as he filled her with an explosion of liquid heat.

  Chance gave a low moan and clutched Bree’s tight, rounded butt as he came harder than he’d ever come in his life.

  He felt as if he’d been saving it for her, despite the fact that he hadn’t been completely celibate since he’d seen her last. Those times had been meaningless, a release for the flesh only. This came from his soul.

  How could he have survived without this? How could he have managed without her for so long? Having his hands filled with her, her sweat-slick skin sealed to his, and her body cradling him, was the closest thing to heaven he could imagine.

  He wanted to worship her, to beg her to forget and forgive every desperate moment he’d caused her, but all he could do was whisper her name as they merged.

  When he was finally empty, he lay holding her, afraid to move or breathe and discover this was only a dream. Finally, he indulged in a glance at her. Her dark lashes lay in crescents against her cheeks. Her sweet mouth was soft, relaxed, and her breathing easy and rhythmic again. His angel was asleep, sated and content in his arms, and for one brief instant all was right again in his world.

  Then reality came back, and he thought of Sam waiting for him to return and deal with Garadeshi. Reluctantly, he slid out of Bree’s arms and disposed of the condom. She moaned softly but didn’t wake. Once off the bed, he turned over the corner of the spread to cover her and tore his gaze away from the vision of her, warm and pink from his lovemaking.

  His first coherent thought was to get reservations on another flight to Cairo, but despite the urgent need to keep moving toward their destination, he couldn’t bear to leave her alone.

  The shower beckoned. Maybe in lieu of sleep, a little soap and water would rejuvenate him enough to think clearly. He closed the door as quietly as possible and ran the water as hot as it would go, which turned out to be only lukewarm.

  Alone with his thoughts, Chance thanked whatever powers might be responsible for bringing her back into his life. Now, all he had to do was figure out how to keep her there.

  Chapter Ten

  Bree floated back to consciousness, sore and sated. She stretched and kicked away the rough bedspread that tangled around her legs.

  Good Lord. Two years apart from him, two years grieving for the man who had betrayed her, and fifteen minutes alone with him was all it took to erase the hurt. Fifteen minutes and she was naked, begging him to fuck her, and God, he’d done it well. Better than she remembered.

  Was she really that easy?

  She sat up slowly, ignoring the troubling thought, and listened to the steady thrum of the shower. Her body suggested joining him, and for a luxurious moment she pictured herself licking beads of warm water from his skin, letting him push her up against the cool tiles of the shower wall and…

  Oh, my God, Bree. Get a grip. Her gaze shot to the door. She should run now, take the jar, his wallet stuffed with the remaining Euros and all those fancy credit cards, and complete her mission. He wouldn’t dare report the theft and give away his own location. If she left now and went back to the airport, maybe she could get a flight and be in Cairo by dawn.

  Maybe she’d never see him again.

  Her brain rebelled. She didn’t need another useless two-hundred dollar session with a therapist to figure out that she would never ever get over Chance MacKenzie. He was inside her again, as if he’d never been away.

  She slid one trembling hand to her belly and held it there, remembering the warm glow she’d felt for those brief, glorious days when she thought she carried his child. Her love for him had bloomed, fresh and new, even though his last words to her had been so cold.

  Even if he was scamming her now just to get the jar, she had to admit to herself it was worth it. The man she loved was alive. If she gained nothing else from seeing him again, at least she had her soul back.

  The bathroom door popped open, emitting a curl of steam. Chance followed, looking like an ad from Playgirl. A thin towel girded his hips, providing barely adequate cover. With his wet hair slicked back and his face freshly shaved, his profile was sharp and clean. He was exquisite.

  “Hey, luv. Shower’s all yours, but I warn you, it takes a while to get hot.”

  Unlike me, Bree thought with amusement that bordered on giddiness. She reined in the desire to tear off his towel and reminded herself that this was no honeymoon. As she slithered off the bed, she thought about wrapping the bedspread around her, but the time for modesty was long past.

  Chance watched her with feral appreciation as she crossed the room. “If we weren’t in this fix, I wouldn’t be letting you out of bed,” he said, reaching for her. His fingertips brushed her nape as she passed. She smelled the sharp scent of strong soap and felt the heat from his still damp skin. It would be so easy to forget everyone and everything outside this room. But she couldn’t.

  “I’ll be quick. Then we can find a café—someplace with decent food. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too. I’ll see if—” A strange metallic trill interrupted Chance’s reply. Digital tones played a snippet from Wagner’s The Valkyrie. Chance met Bree’s curious gaze for a second then retrieved his jacket from the floor. He patted the pockets and produced a small cell phone, which he stared at as though he’d never seen one before.

  “Are you going to answer that?” she asked, her nak
edness momentarily forgotten.

  “Mmm.” He hesitated a moment longer, then flipped the phone open. “Yeah?”

  Chance’s face paled by a shade or two as Bree watched. He listened to the caller, his eyes narrowed in thought. When he finally replied, his accent had transformed into a croaky American twang spiced with the flavor of New York.

  “We missed the flight. Ozzie’s bookin’ us another one. There was some trouble at the airport…I don’t know. Some guy keeled over and cops started crawlin’ around so we had to get lost. Yeah. I’ll get back to you.”

  Chance closed the phone and exhaled in a long, slow whistle. His knuckles were white.

  “Who was that?”

  “Urkhat Garadeshi. We should have landed ten minutes ago. He doesn’t know about Gino.”

  “You took Gino’s phone?”

  “I had to. I think he bought my accent, but I doubt he will a second time. I could tell he was a little suspicious. We’ve got to get moving, luv.”

  Speechless, Bree turned toward the bathroom, not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed that Chance had thought to swipe the dead man’s phone and that he could impersonate Carloni’s craggy voice so well.

  “Give me ten minutes,” she mumbled as she closed the bathroom door. Once inside, despite herself, she turned the lock, whether through force of habit, or to combat the sudden grave uncertainty she felt, she wasn’t sure.

  If Garadeshi already knew they’d missed their flight, Firenze knew it also. That meant she was living on borrowed time, and payback was going to be a bitch.

  Chance looked down at Bree’s hands, where they lay in her lap. He twined his fingers through hers and shifted his upper body so that her head rested more comfortably on his shoulder.

  It warmed him to think she trusted him enough now to fall asleep. He wished he had the same luxury, but he had to remain vigilant.

  Their journey now included a train ride from Frankfurt to Munich. The connecting flight he’d booked for them to Cairo didn’t leave until 6:30 AM the following morning and included a two and half hour layover in Milan. Chance wasn’t thrilled about the arrangements, but getting a direct flight to Egypt meant leaving from Frankfurt. Despite the lack of news reports about Gino turning up dead at one of the international gates, Chance didn’t feel comfortable returning there knowing that Bree, rather than his scurrilous bodyguard, might have been the intended target. Their ETA in Cairo, barring any further snafus, was set at half past three tomorrow. He could only hope Garadeshi would be patient and keep Sam alive until then.