by N. J. Croft
Normally at this point she would get up, leave the bed, and get away from the man as quickly as possible.
But not with Luke. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and burrowed her face against his chest. Breathing in the musky scent of sex, she felt at peace for the first time since she had seen David’s body two nights ago.
…
Luke felt her go soft and boneless against him. His body was totally relaxed, but something niggled at his mind, and he realized with a start that he felt cheated, used. The thought almost made him smile. Although he was all for role reversal, he wasn’t sure he liked this one.
But he understood why she had acted as she had.
He’d used sex the same way, many times. Used it to block out the bad memories for a little while. But casual sex always left him with a feeling of emptiness, and now, he was filled with the need to make her see him as more than just a means to forget—he wanted to be someone she would remember.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever slept with. Probably the most beautiful he had ever seen. As he pulled away to look into her face, a shiver of unease ran through him.
Truth was, she was almost too perfect. Her bone structure was flawless, her skin without blemish, her nose straight, her mouth ideally proportioned.
Her eyes were closed, and they blinked open as if she could sense his stare. “What?”
He smiled. “I was thinking how perfect you are.”
Some emotion flickered across her face. “I’m not perfect. I might look okay, but it’s a pretty, pointless facade that covers up the crap underneath. I’m flawed, about as far from perfect as it’s possible to get.”
The bitterness in her voice was clear. For a moment, he had no clue what she was talking about. Then he remembered. He hadn’t thought much about her illness since she’d mentioned it yesterday, but now he realized how big a part it played in her life and in her perceptions of herself as a person.
“It’s a small part of you. It’s not who you are.”
The moment she opened her mouth to protest, he stopped the words with a kiss.
This time their lovemaking was slow and erotic. And afterward, she fell asleep in his arms almost immediately. Luke held her close while her limbs relaxed.
He should get up, go do some research. Start analyzing the information they had retrieved from Merrick’s house. Instead, as he had the night before, he held Jenna tight and closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jenna awoke to bright sunlight.
She couldn’t believe she had actually slept, but she must have drifted off right after Luke had made love to her for the second time. She smiled at the memory and wriggled under the thin sheet.
Her mind was clear, all her senses alert. For the first time, she could hear the muted hum of the traffic in the streets far below. Listening carefully, she heard someone moving around the apartment. Her body fizzed with energy, as if she could get up and run and fight and—
The thought of Merrick flashed through her mind, but she pushed it aside; she would think about it later. Right now, she felt too good and wanted to savor the feeling for a little while.
Even the pain from her broken finger had vanished. The dull ache faded to nothing. She held the splinted fingers up in front of her face and noticed the swelling was gone completely from her knuckles, the bruising cleared, leaving her skin once again flawless. Tentatively, she touched the broken finger, increasing the pressure when she felt nothing.
A fracture should take weeks to heal. On a sudden impulse, she picked at the end of the tape and unwound it, holding herself tense, waiting for the pain to strike. Nothing.
She removed the last of the tape, and the splint fell away. Her finger appeared perfect. She clenched her fist. Had they been mistaken? Had it never been broken? But she’d heard it snap, had seen the unnatural angle.
What the hell was going on? She’d always been fast at healing, but all the same, this was beyond weird.
After climbing out of bed, she padded naked to the bathroom. She glanced at her face in the mirror, not something she did often; she hated to see the perfection and know what lay behind it, but today something drew her.
She stared as though at a stranger. She looked the same, but somehow more sharply defined.
Maybe she was in love.
The stupidity of the thought made her grin. More likely, she’d just had a night of great sex. Anyway, she’d long ago vowed she would never fall in love. She didn’t know what the future held for her, but she didn’t think it was fair to inflict that future on some poor, unsuspecting man. But with Luke she felt safe, maybe because she doubted Luke was any more into commitment than she was.
In the shower, she turned the water on hot and hard, felt every drop against her skin. She rinsed away the sweat of the night with a hint of regret as the memory of the pleasure washed over her.
Eager to see Luke, she dried herself quickly and dressed in clean clothes packed in the bag Callum had brought for her.
Luke was in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else, his chest and feet bare. She stood in the open doorway, watching him.
His expression was more relaxed than she had ever seen it, though disappointment flashed across his face as he observed her loitering figure.
“You’re dressed,” he said. “I’m making coffee. I was going to bring it to you in bed.”
She closed the space between them, and she couldn’t resist reaching out, placing her palm against the raised scar tissue that marked his skin from his collarbone to his chest. At her touch, he went still, and she shifted her hand, trailing it over the hard muscle of his upper arm where a tattoo showed dark against his skin.
“I saw this last night. What is it?”
“I got it when I was in the army. It’s a flaming grenade.” His lips curled in a rueful smile. “I was young.”
“The words are in French. ‘Legio Patria Nostra.’ What does it mean?”
“The Legion is our Fatherland. It’s the motto of the French Foreign Legion.”
“You were in the French Foreign Legion? I thought that was only in stories.”
“Oh, it’s real. People join up from all over the world. They’re a mixed bunch and on the whole pretty rough. It was an education, and I learned a lot.” He shifted on the balls of his feet and shrugged again. “My father died suddenly when I was eighteen. I went slightly off the rails and ended up joining the Legion.”
That explained a great deal about him. “Did you fight?”
“A lot of skirmishing. Mainly in Africa.”
She ran her hand over a scar on his left shoulder. A souvenir from that skirmishing? “What made you give it up?”
“I grew out of it.” He grinned. “It happens. Unfortunately, by the time I got out, the family business seemed a little tame. So I used what I knew and the contacts I’d made to set up the security business.”
“What about your friend Callum?” she asked. “Was he in the army as well?”
“Not the same one, but I met him when I was stationed in Ivory Coast. He was in the British army—the SAS.”
“Wow.” Though she was not surprised.
“Yeah, he was good—the best. But he got disillusioned with the army, and when I set up the company, he came in with me. It’s good to have someone you can trust.”
“Yes, it must be.” Even if Callum wasn’t the most comfortable person to be around. Did Luke have anyone else? “What about your mother?”
“I never knew her. She died when I was two, and my dad brought me up.”
“Something we have in common.”
He laid his hand over hers, where it still rested against his shoulder. “Your mother is dead?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. Apparently, she left us when my illness was diagnosed. My father would never t
alk about her. I was only four. Sometimes I think I remember, but…” She shrugged and decided to change the subject. “Hey, is there a gym nearby?”
“There’s one in the building. Why?”
She rolled her shoulders. “I feel in need of a workout. Normally I’d run, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“The gym is in the basement. There’s a pool as well.” He stepped in closer. “But you don’t need to go down there for a workout.” His gaze dropped to her breasts. “I have a much better idea.”
He moved suddenly, his hands shifting to her hips. Lifting her onto the counter, he stepped in between the V of her thighs. He flicked open the top button of her shirt and had progressed to the second one when a cell phone rang behind her, and he went still.
His expression was rueful, but he stepped away and reached for the phone. Though he turned his head as he answered, she clearly heard Callum’s voice at the other end of the line.
“I’m on my way up.”
Luke glanced at her, regret clear in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll see you in five.”
Jenna jumped down off the counter as Luke shoved the cell phone in his pocket.
“That was Callum. He’s on his way up.”
“I heard.”
“You did? You must have good hearing.”
She frowned. “This morning it seems I do. Does Callum live here?”
“He has an apartment a couple of floors down. He stays there when he’s in the country.” He made to leave the room but paused in the doorway. “I didn’t use anything last night.”
For a moment, she didn’t understand what he was saying. Then she realized he meant no condom. “Is there anything I should know?”
“I’m clean. What about you, any chance there will be repercussions from this?”
“No. I’m on the pill.”
She’d hated the idea of passing her disease to anyone and had seriously considered being sterilized, but strangely, it was her father who had told her to hold off. He’d said the advances in medical science were coming so fast, who knew what cures would be available in another decade?
“Good. I’ll be back after I’ve dealt with Callum.” His smile was apologetic. “Maybe you should go to the gym after all. I have a feeling this might take some time.”
He closed the door behind him.
Her gaze settled on the coffee machine as the scent of fresh coffee teased her nose. Jenna poured herself a cup and sat at the table, sipping it. Even through the closed door, she could hear Luke moving around the apartment, and she frowned again.
The flavor of her coffee tasted more intense than she had ever noticed before. Everything appeared sharper, brighter. Was it some sort of relief that she was alive when others were dead?
Or was something else happening? Last night, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she hadn’t taken any medication. But she didn’t feel ill. She felt… She closed her eyes. She felt vital, alive, alert. Could it be some sort of side effect, a symptom that heralded much worse to come? Or had the medicine, while forestalling her illness, also dulled her senses?
The elevator door slid open. Presumably Callum arriving. Jenna sat back in her seat. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the conversation clearly.
“You look like you just got laid,” Callum said
“Leave it.” Luke’s tone held irritation or guilt. Possibly both.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Obviously, Callum was unwilling to leave it. “This woman is a possible suspect, and even if she weren’t a suspect, she’s our only lead. She’s bait, and you’re losing focus.”
“I said, leave it,” Luke snapped.
“Damn it, Luke, this is my deal as much as yours. I have as much at stake as you. Leah was my sister.”
Who was Leah?
“I know.” He was silent for a minute, and Jenna strained to hear. “This way, Jenna trusts me. Don’t worry, I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
What the hell did that mean?
Had Luke been playing her?
Who were they trying to trap? Presumably David’s murderers. That had been Luke’s purpose all along, so why did she feel betrayed?
Nausea churned in her stomach, and she swallowed the bitter taste that rose up in her throat. Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she forced her expression into blankness. Luke opened the door; behind him, she could see Callum. She pasted a smile onto her lips.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m just heading downstairs. We’re going to continue work on the stuff Callum picked up from Merrick’s place. See if we can extract any information from the hard drives.” He crossed the room, came to a halt in front of her, leaned in close, and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
A rush of rage washed over her. She pushed it down.
“Will you be okay?” he asked.
“Of course.” She twisted her lips into a smile. “I might go use that gym.”
“Take the elevator straight down to the basement.” He turned to go.
“Luke.”
“Yes?”
“What’s happening with the police? I should phone in.”
His brows drew together. “No need. I talked to them yesterday. They haven’t found any leads yet, but they know to call here if they need you for anything.”
She studied his face, but it was back to its normal facade of blankness. Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”
He looked at her for long moments then flashed a smile, his eyes warming. “I’ll see you for lunch.”
Jenna stared at the closed door for long minutes after he had gone. A dull ache nagged at her chest, and she rubbed it with the palm of her hand. A memory of how he had made love to her the night before tore through her mind. Maybe she had initiated the first time, but he could have said no. The second time, he’d been so tender. Had it all been an act?
After all, he had warned her he didn’t do relationships. She should have listened.
She forced herself to wait for ten minutes before she got to her feet and went back to the bedroom. After crossing to the window, she peered down at the city below. They were on the Isle of Dogs, and she could see the river Thames in the distance. They couldn’t be far from the train station, where she could catch a train into central London and get to Scotland Yard from there.
She changed her jeans and shoes for sweatpants and sneakers, picked up her bag, and headed for the elevator, stabbing her finger on the basement button. Thirty floors down, the elevator opened into the underground parking area, but off to the side was a set of double doors, presumably to the gym.
Inside was a smart carpeted hallway with a number of doors leading off, each clearly labeled. Shooting range, gym, pool; the last one on the right had a picture of a staircase. Faint sounds came from the rooms as she passed, but if she concentrated, she could identify the individual noises. The splash of water, the muted pop of a silenced pistol, a murmured conversation. She passed the other doors and went through the last one. A concrete staircase led upward, and she followed it one flight, where she reckoned the ground floor would be.
The door at the top led into a large reception area with glass double doors at the front and a desk occupied by a uniformed security officer. He glanced up as Jenna entered the area.
Her heart pounded, but she smiled brightly and headed for the exit. He watched her but made no attempt to prevent her leaving. Out of the corner of her eye, Jenna saw him pick up his phone.
Her pace quickened, and she reached the doors as he rose to his feet.
“Miss?”
She ignored the call and pushed, half expecting the double doors to be locked, but they opened easily, and she was outside. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she ran. Behind her, someone shouted, but she kept running. She was fast, and soon she’d put half a mile behind
her. Her cell phone rang twice, but she ignored it and ran on. Finally, she slowed her pace, though she wasn’t even breathing hard, found herself in a residential street and kept going at a slow jog until she came to an alley bisecting two rows of houses. Entering the narrow space, she glanced back, but no one had followed her, or if they had tried she had left them far behind. She pulled her cell phone from her bag and noted the two missed calls were from Luke. Ignoring them, she found the card Detective Mitchell had given her and punched in his number.
“Mitchell, here.”
“Detective Mitchell, it’s Jenna Young.”
“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been trying to get hold of you for the last forty-eight hours.”
“I’ve been with David’s cousin. He told me he’d been in contact with you, and everything was fine.”
“Everything is not fine, and I don’t know who you’ve been with, but it isn’t David’s cousin. You know how I know that? Because Dr. David Griffith didn’t have any cousins.”
Shock slammed through her. She stood, her back pressed against the rough stone walls as she took in his words. While she’d doubted Luke’s motives, she’d never doubted who he was. If he wasn’t David’s cousin, who the hell was he? And how was he involved in this?
Descartes.
Luke had said there was some sort of imminent terrorist threat, and Descartes was the code name. Had Descartes led Luke to David and then to her? If so, had he been responsible for David’s death? Had it all been a setup? Her mind whirled, her stomach churning as she came up with possible implications.
“Jenna?” Mitchell broke into her thoughts.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded weak, and she made an effort to pull herself together.
“Are you still with this man?”
“No.”
“Where are you? I’ll send a car.”
She thought about it for a second but didn’t want to hang around. “No, I want to keep moving. I’ll get the train. I should be there within the hour.”
Before he could say anything further, she ended the call and was about to put the phone away when she changed her mind. She phoned Luke’s cell instead. He picked up straightaway as though waiting for her call.