by Lori Wilde
“I’ll try to keep your advice in mind.”
“We need to sleep,” he said. “Where’s the bed?”
“Through here.”
She led him into the tiny, three-hundred-square-foot apartment that consisted basically of a sink, a bed, a stove, and a bathroom. The bed bore a full-sized mattress covered with a well-worn but clean handmade quilt.
An hour later Joel sat propped up in the bed staring down at Marlie, who lay curled beside him making adorable little snoring noises that churned his insides. Her face was nestled into a pillow, her wrist curled under her chin, her warm breath feathering across his knuckles.
Here he was, in bed with the cutest woman who’d ever turned his heart topsy-turvy, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
Aw, hell, it was for the best. He was just settling into his bachelorhood again after Treeni. He didn’t need any new entanglements. It was too soon, and he wasn’t ready to go under again.
Falling in love was so damned tricky. While he might miss the magnetic power, the celestial tug in his gut, the endorphin rush to his brain, love was always, always a complication. When you were caught in that first headlong dash of it you forgot that a shattered relationship could rip the lining right off your heart. Love, as Pat Benatar so accurately pointed out, was a battlefield, and Joel was a warrior who never ran from a skirmish.
He wasn’t given to romantic conjecture. Endless mental debating was for college professors and scientists. But Marlie stirred something in him, something primal and pure that Joel had a hard time denying.
You’re supposed to be watching over her, not trying to get into her panties, Hunter.
The feminine smell of her was on the pillow near his head. He sniffed the air, stunned by how she could cause such a hollow ache inside him, as if someone were rapping steadily, patiently against the vault of his heart.
He felt as if all action had stopped. He was waiting, frustrated, frozen, the world slack and unmoving. Silent. Disturbingly silent. And yet his pulse was thrashing, a buck in rut crashing through the forest.
Things hadn’t been like this with Treeni. He’d wanted her. Oh, yeah. He had been on fire for Treeni from the moment he laid eyes on her and she for him. They’d burned and flamed and scorched and then fizzled out like two Roman candles with their fuses tied together. One giant explosion and then utter destruction.
It was different with Marlie. The chemistry was there. No doubt. But it was unique. His desire for her didn’t have that same doomed incendiary quality. It was better. Deeper. Truer. More solid.
Right now, Joel wanted nothing more than to wake her up and make love to her until they both walked funny. And that was a very scary thing. Out-of-control passion he could handle, but this . . . this was something else entirely.
He’d had hot sex before. Lots of it. He’d been with tall women and short ones, plump ones and thin ones, blondes and brunettes and redheads. But he’d never been with one that charmed him on so many levels the way Marlie did. Her timid side fed his masculine ego.
Around her he felt like a strong protector. But just when he feared that she might be too much of a pushover for a guy like him, he would do or say something that ignited that spark in her eyes and she’d be off, giving him a hard time, standing up for herself, telling him off, engaging in the verbal sparring Joel thrived on.
He’d had her under surveillance for more than two weeks, and he’d drawn all the wrong conclusions. He’d mistaken her quietness for weakness, her lack of vanity as mousiness, her predictability as boring. But she was neither weak nor mousy nor boring.
Marlie was nothing like any other woman he’d ever known. She pushed him beyond his comfort zone in a way no one else ever had. He was the one who forced people to push their personal envelopes, not the other way around. Sure, brazen Treeni had stood up to him, but Marlie did more than that. She had him questioning his values and beliefs. Had him wondering why he’d made some of the life choices that he’d made.
Through Marlie’s eyes Joel was beginning to see that his need to be strong was nothing more than an illusion. Because how could he really know when he was truly strong enough? He’d pursued courage all his life, while deep down inside he didn’t feel any braver now than he had at twelve when one of his stepfathers had beaten him with a leather strap.
He found her endearing and interesting and totally adorable. He admired her compassion and her intellect and her off-the-wall wit. He respected the way she stood up for what she believed in, even if it wasn’t a popular stance. Marlie possessed a noble nature and a kind heart. Her caring quality was evident in the way she advocated underdog causes. But she was more comfortable expressing her anxieties than her braver feelings.
It was almost as if she were alternating between two characters, the timid, caring hermit and the bold, calculating adventuress.
And he loved both sides of her equally.
Most of all, he loved the fact that when he was with her they were an exciting team, balancing each other out. She kept him on his toes, and around her, he felt that he had a true sense of purpose. And his sweet Ladybug deserved far better than having his mangy-ass world dumped on her doorstep.
He brought to her the very things she’d feared. Secrets and lies and betrayal. She’d already been through so much. All her illusions about the world shattered at such a tender age. Her innocence destroyed when his father had killed hers.
And innately, Joel understood that Marlie possessed the power to hurt him far deeper than Treeni ever could.
He fought against the raging need inside him. It was vicious and demanding and made him throb for things he could not have.
Things that could cut him to the bone.
And he’d been wounded enough in this lifetime.
He had to force loving thoughts of her from his mind. He could not afford this softness. For her sake as much as his own. But as he lay beside her, his nostrils consumed with the scent of her, the doom of eternal loneliness ate at his soul.
Feelings are for females and fools. Your softhearted tendencies are your only failing as a soldier, Gus had told him after Iraq.
Joel winced at the truth of it. The only way to combat his weakness was to keep his concentration on what truly mattered.
Keeping her safe.
The assassin might be dead, but Joel knew with certainty the man hadn’t acted alone. Someone with a lot of power wanted her dead. And he was the only thing standing between Marlie and absolute destruction.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Marlie woke confused and disoriented. Her body ached and throbbed as if she’d run a marathon in lead boots. She hurt in places she hadn’t even known existed. Blinding sunlight fell through the window. She wasn’t in her bed, wasn’t in her room with the foiled windows.
Where was she?
Squinting, she rolled on her side and found herself eye-to-pecs with a hard-muscled masculine chest.
A shivery thrill ran through her body. She was in bed with a near-naked incredibly handsome man. She. Mousy Marlie.
Somebody pinch me; I must be dreaming.
She stacked her hands under her cheek and lay there watching him breathe, savoring the moment. Joel. Joel Jerome. Savior and he-man deluxe. Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.
How had she gotten here? She meant metaphorically of course. She knew how she’d gotten here physically. Hiding out in the Villereals’ warehouse had been her idea.
Her gaze trailed from his chest up to the strong column of his throat to the underside of his jaw to his face. Rugged. Tough. Scarily good-looking. Chiseled chin. Proud nose. Sculpted cheekbones. His eyes were closed.
Marlie looked and looked and looked. Happiness bubbled inside her.
“Stop staring at me,” Joel said, his eyes closed.
“I’m not staring at you.”
Joel opened one eye and peered at her. “Liar.”
She smiled at him.
He scowled. Apparently he was one of those people who woke up crabby.
>
She kept smiling.
“Are you always this happy in the morning?”
“It’s not morning.” She showed him her watch. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon.”
He jerked to a sitting position, groaned, and immediately fell back against the pillow, one hand going to his wounded flank, the other to the back of his head where he’d been hit by Ronald McDonald the night before. “Ow. That didn’t feel so hot.”
“I’ve discovered that no sudden moves seems to be the best policy.”
He smiled. “We’re quite a pair, huh?”
“Hey, we survived the night. There were several times I was beginning to have my doubts that we’d make it to this point.”
“Me too,” he said.
Their eyes met and in that moment Marlie felt the bond between them solidify.
“I’m used to getting up at six A.M.,” he grumbled.
“We didn’t go to bed until long after that.”
“Still, one o’clock.” He shook his head and then winced. “I gotta stop doing that.”
“Sometimes I don’t wake up until three or four.”
“In the afternoon?” He looked at her as if she were a degenerate layabout.
“Depends on my schedule. When I’m working on a tight deadline I slip into this creative fugue. I might not eat or sleep for twenty-four hours or longer. Then I crash. I slept for eighteen hours once after a long grueling session.”
“Doesn’t sound like a particularly healthy way to live.”
“When you’ve got the muse by the tail, you gotta hang on.”
“Weird. I’ve never known an intensely creative type before.”
“It’s a crazy life, but totally exhilarating. Probably the same kind of high you Navy SEALs get from pushing your bodies to the limits of endurance.”
“Ah,” he said. “A reference I can understand.”
Marlie studied him. Physically, they were so different. He was one hundred percent mesomorph. Lots of lean muscle tissue, hard, sculpted. She was little Miss Endomorph. Round and soft and small-boned. But mentally they were more alike than she’d first assumed.
They believed in truth and justice and standing up for the underdog. They were both loyal and protective. And they both liked being in control, although whereas Marlie took evasive action to ensure her safety, Joel ruled the space around him with his physicality.
Maybe this relationship could work, if they lived to tell the tale.
“Stop worrying.” He reached over and pressed the pad of his thumb between her eyebrows, smoothing out her frown line.
“I can’t. It’s my nature.”
“You need a distraction.”
“What kind of distraction?” she asked hopefully, eyeing his lips.
“The best kind,” he answered, draping one leg over hers and pulling her closer. His deep, rumbling voice, combined with the pressure of the back of his knee against her thigh, sent an electrical charge tumbling down her spine.
“Oh?” she murmured. “And what’s that?”
His eyes narrowed seductively. He looked more handsome than any man had a right to look.
He drew his thumb down the end of her nose. Their gazes met. She dared him with her eyes. Dared him to kiss her.
He leaned closer.
Marlie pursed her lips. She was burning, wanted him as she’d never, ever wanted another. The longing inside her was so strong she felt faint with it.
She turned her face up to his, waiting for the mystery, the magic to begin.
Joel pressed his mouth to hers. It was the smallest movement of his lips, yet it captured her emotions quick as kindling.
He gazed into her eyes and she peered back at him, giggly as a teenager whose boyfriend had just sneaked in through her bedroom window for the most forbidden of kisses.
The membranes of her lips throbbed, deliciously receptive and incredibly sensitive to the slightest brush of his.
Their breaths merged, a mystical embodiment of their essence, fusing the bond.
Then Joel pulled away and threw back the covers. “Daylight’s burning,” he said and swung his legs off the bed. “Let’s roll.”
What? Just like that he was going to kiss her and then break it off?
Her face burned with embarrassment. Inside, she was as fragile as spun glass in the hands of an amateur juggler. Why had he so quickly distanced himself? Was it her? Had she done something wrong? Marlie fretted.
She searched his face, trying to find meaning there. He jerked his head away, ostensibly searching for his shoes, but deep inside she knew he was purposefully avoiding looking at her.
Why? Was he wishing that he hadn’t kissed her? Was she that lousy of a kisser?
Marlie pressed two fingertips against her lips. She felt like someone left stranded on a deserted island, watching the supply ship sail away without her.
Alone. She’d never felt more alone in her life.
Her skin felt hot. She wanted to run away, but she could not. She was trapped. Trapped in a dangerous situation. Trapped with a man she barely knew and did not understand.
But she’d be damned if she was going to let him see how much his abruptness had bruised her ego. She might be scared, she might be shy, but at heart, she was a fighter.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To get our hands on your comic books,” he said. “We have to find out who sent an assassin after you and why.”
“We can’t go home. I’m certain the police have my house under surveillance.”
“Yeah,” he said. “So where’s the nearest comic book store?”
“Mel’s New and Used Comics at Padre Staples Mall.”
Quickly they showered and redressed each other’s wounds. Marlie applied a new bandage to Joel’s injury and gave him another penicillin pill from the first-aid kit. Joel took the pressure dressing off her wrist, secured the laceration with a butterfly closure, and they were off.
“Soon as we can,” Joel said, “we’ve got to ditch the Durango. She’s in bad shape. Don’t want to get pulled over for having a brake light out.”
“After we see Mel we can rent one.”
They pulled into the mall parking lot. Marlie noticed several police cars parked in the fire lane near the main entrance. She figured they must have busted a shoplifting ring or something. It never dawned on her that the police could be there for her until they drew near Mel’s.
Marlie stopped short right by the Dippin’ Dots kiosk across from the comic book store. When she saw a man in a trench coat had cornered Mel at the cash register and several uniformed officers were searching the inventory, her heart thumped.
She and Joel watched as one of the officers left the store, carrying a stack of comic books. Marlie caught a glimpse of the cover, and that’s when she realized they were confiscating all Mel’s copies of Angelina Avenger.
The man in the trench coat putting the squeeze on Mel’s store was Special Agent William Dobbs. Joel grabbed Marlie’s elbow and dragged her to the General Nutrition Center.
“In here,” he said brusquely and maneuvered her behind a shelf of herbal remedies.
If Dobbs had flown out here from Camp Pendleton, things were worse than he’d imagined. He was in deep shit without a shovel.
Just what the hell was in those comics?
“What are we going to do now?” Marlie whispered.
“Wait them out.”
“May I help you, folks?” asked a voice from behind them.
Simultaneously, they pivoted to see a Jack LaLanne look-alike beaming at them as if they’d been delivered to the promised land and he was the Messiah. The dude was seventy if he was a day, but possessed muscles Arnold Schwarzenegger would envy.
He reached between Joel and Marlie to pluck a bottle of pills from the shelf. “This is the product you’re looking for; trust me on this.”
Marlie pushed her glasses up on her nose and narrowed her eyes at the bottle. “What’s it do?”
Th
e salesman winked. “Increases potency, strength, and endurance.”
“So it’s a high-performance drug?”
He nudged Joel with his elbow. “Oh, it’s much more than that, know what I mean?”
Joel got his drift loud and clear.
Marlie took the bottle and studied the label. “Is it for men or women?”
“In a manner of speaking”—the Jack LaLanne wannabe chuckled—“it’s for both.”
“Well, I could certainly do with more endurance,” she said and jerked a thumb at Joel. “He wore me out yesterday.”
Joel lowered his head and hissed, “Marlie, shhh.”
“What?” She blinked up at him.
“It’s herbal Viagra.”
“Oh, no.” She thrust the bottle of pills back at the randy version of Jack LaLanne. “Take a good look at him. He don’t need no stinkin’ herbal Viagra.”
Joel grinned. Okay, he’d admit it. Marlie’s confidence in his virility without proof of the fact stroked his ego.
They lurked among the vitamins and dietary supplements waiting for Dobbs and company to exit Mel’s comic book store. Randy Jack trailed after them trying to convince Joel and Marlie that they were one step away from nirvana and all it would take for them to achieve perfection was to slap down a lot of dead presidents for his pricey potions and powders.
Joel saw Dobbs leave the comic book store. “Call your buddy Mel,” he told Marlie. “And tell him to meet us at Chili’s in the food court.”
She dug her cell phone from her purse, called Mel, and made the assignation. After bidding the disappointed herbal salesman good-bye, they headed for Chili’s.
While they waited for Mel to appear, they ordered hamburgers. Ten minutes later, the comic book store owner appeared looking harried and harassed. He spied Marlie and ambled over.
Mel was a tall, gangly guy in his early forties with a half-assed goatee, long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, and an Adam’s apple the size of a pomegranate. He shot a suspicious look at Joel. “Who’s he?”