“You’re growing sentimental, old man.”
“No, Opal, I’m just growing.”
“YOU’RE TELLING ME that you never set off the panic alarm, Jake?” Mallory swept inside her foyer and tossed her keys on the hall tree, leaving him to lock up. She sidestepped the garment bag he’d left on the floor, a solid reminder that he’d shown up intending to spend the night.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said. “Where did you get the idea that I had?”
She stared up into his face, the square jaw showing signs of nighttime stubble, the strong features set in granite, the warm eyes shielded from full potency behind wire frames and plastic lenses. Her impulse was to call him a liar because she’d known for ten years that he’d triggered the alarm. But Jake’s surprise wasn’t feigned. Neither was his curiosity. Mallory simply didn’t believe that a man as by-the-book and noble as this one would stand here and lie to her face.
And even if he was lying, she’d see right through him.
She didn’t.
“We need to talk.” And she’d never meant anything quite so seriously. “But my head is about to explode. I need to grab some acetaminophen. Do you want anything?”
“No.”
She made her way to the kitchen, trying to sort through the jumble of her thoughts. Something was so not right here. Every nerve in her body was on red alert and her head was pounding so hard, each throb vibrated straight to her toes.
Her dad had said he’d tripped the alarm, and every brain cell rebelled at the thought.
She hadn’t deluded herself into believing her dad was fail-safe, but tripping an alarm? That was a stupid mistake. Sure, Duke Hunt made mistakes, but not stupid ones. Never stupid ones.
Something strange had happened during the Innovative Engineering job, and she needed to find out what. Three gelcaps later she headed back to the living room to find Jake standing in front of the fireplace, looking as disturbed as she felt.
“What made you think I was the one who sounded the alarm?” he asked.
Sitting on her sofa, she glanced absently at the contracts and the mug of stone-cold espresso she’d brewed before Kyle’s call. Back when she’d believed she’d understood the situation with Jake and had it under control. “Who else was there in the building that night, Jake?”
“The security guard. I thought he was the one who’d sounded the alarm. But if you’re sure—”
“I’m sure. He was contained before my dad ever went into the vault and I met up with you. Opal and Eddie secured the monitoring station. The guard couldn’t have tripped an alarm.”
Jake nodded. “What exactly was your job that night?”
“Securing my dad’s egress from the building.” Her voice sounded flat and factual, but that night loomed inside her memory like a brewing storm, each image sharp, focused, as though illuminated by a strike of lightning. “I only needed to stall you for less than two minutes so he could complete the job and get out.”
“You did stall me.”
“Yes, and it should have been long enough. But we all got out and the law arrived before my dad cleared the building.”
Along with the images came the familiar, crushing sense of guilt. Had she called Polish Paul for egress immediately, her dad would have gotten out in time. She’d already had his route cleared. Even if Jake had run straight to a panic button…
But Jake hadn’t. Or so he claimed.
“The alarm didn’t go off until after I left you,” she said, squelching down emotions that had no place surfacing when she needed to think clearly, to sort out Jake’s claim and reason through the events of that night. “There was no one else inside the building, just you and the security guard.”
“I didn’t sound the alarm, Mallory.”
His voice was low, alarming in its earnestness. Though outwardly he appeared composed, standing with his strong legs braced firmly apart, his hands casually by his sides, he radiated such intensity he took her breath away. His dark gaze held hers and she could only stare, enthralled by the gravity she saw in his eyes, in his expression.
He didn’t lie. He wouldn’t.
And she didn’t want to accept that. It was almost as if she needed to believe he’d sounded that alarm so she wouldn’t have to face that she believed him, despite herself, despite the facts. She didn’t want to face that this was just one more example of how her feelings for this man hadn’t been rational since the night they’d met.
“Why should I believe you?” she asked, though the question was a lie, a knee-jerk reaction against unfamiliar emotions. And even though she knew exactly what she was doing and her need shamed her, she did it anyway. Attack was her only defense against this powerful feeling, this desperation.
“I don’t lie.”
So simple, and, Mallory knew in her heart, so true.
“Right. And you expect me to believe that Mr. Fast-Track-to-a-Heart-Attack passed up the opportunity to prove his loyalty to the almighty corporation and miss the chance at a big promotion or a raise.” She couldn’t stop the words from pouring from her mouth. “I’m sure upper management appreciated your loyalty to the company.”
It was a verbal slap, but the man didn’t flinch.
“Obviously you didn’t dig deep enough while you were researching me,” he said, and the steel in his voice cut clear across the room. “If you had, you’d have found out that I didn’t work for Innovative Engineering after that night.”
His dark eyes pierced the distance between them, the silence so complete that she was almost sure he could hear her heart pounding. She was being relentless and totally unfair and Jake could have so easily responded in kind. He could have told her to find out for herself and walked out the door.
He didn’t.
“Why?”
He gave her own words back to her. “Upper management would have appreciated loyalty to the company.”
At least one of them had some control of his emotions.
“They let you go?”
He inclined his head.
It took a moment for the implications of his admission to register. For so long she’d believed that her life and the lives of everyone she loved had been thrown into upheaval because of her meeting with this man. She’d known her dad had lied to her, the whole crew knew he’d lied so she wouldn’t feel responsible, and she’d just assumed that Jake had done the deed. That he’d gone on his merry, self-righteous way, satisfied he’d snagged a thief and brought justice to a bad guy.
She’d never once considered any other scenario.
Not once.
And then another thought struck her.
“Why didn’t you sound the alarm, Jake?”
He faced her squarely, let her see everything in his face, his expression so brutally honest that she recognized ten years worth of conflicting emotions that rivaled her own.
“I might have, if I’d have had more time to think about it. I can’t honestly say. But at first, right after you left, I couldn’t seem to get past the fact that if I tripped the alarm a bold young woman with beautiful green eyes might wind up in prison.”
Mallory didn’t know what to say. She had no reply to make, wasn’t entirely sure she understood all the nuances of what he claimed or the impact his admission was having on her.
She needed to think. Couldn’t. Her head pounded as though it was about to explode. The damn painkillers hadn’t taken effect yet, and it didn’t look like they were going to.
Massaging her temples, she brought herself a reprieve from his steady gaze. She was rattled. He knew it. And she didn’t like being this way in front of him, had already been worn down by tonight’s ordeal with Lance. Jake shouldn’t have been here to witness that, either. Lance was her family, and her family was off limits to lovers.
But that was her rule, and she wasn’t the only one making rules here. Jake clearly had his own agenda. He could have done so many things in that moment. He could have lorded his position over her. If everythin
g he said was true, then he’d lost his job because he hadn’t sounded the alarm. And she’d convicted him of a crime he hadn’t committed. Had never questioned his guilt. Not once in ten years.
She half expected him to toss her own stupidity in her face. He could have walked out the door and left her stewing in her own self-righteousness.
But he simply strode across the room and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. “Come here.”
Before she even thought to resist, he’d pulled her back against him, was guiding her head against his chest and lightly running his fingers along her brow. “How does that feel?”
She sighed, the only answer she could give him because her throat was suddenly tight.
He hadn’t defended himself. He’d greeted her attack with caring and concern, each caress of his fingertips against her aching head making her feel more overwhelmed, and more humbled.
“Relax,” he said softly. “We’ll figure this out.”
Together.
He didn’t say the word aloud. He didn’t need to. It was there in his touch, in the way his body enveloped hers in a strong embrace. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her back, feel the heat of hard thighs that anchored her between his legs. Every sweep of his fingers against her temples made the ache recede, leaving in its wake an awareness of this man that was unlike anything she’d ever known before.
Because he was unlike any man she’d ever known before.
The events and revelations of the night had sparked urgency in her, but not Jake. She wanted to take action, to find out what was going on, to deal with the problem so she could feel back in control.
But not Jake.
He trusted that he’d figure everything out on his own schedule. The problem would be waiting when he was ready to deal with it. This wasn’t a crisis unless he chose to make it one and he didn’t. He’d chosen to make her the priority.
He was a man in command of himself and his emotions.
And of her.
She melted beneath his concern. She melted beneath his touch. Her thoughts scattered. Her skin tingled with awareness of their closeness, his body heat radiated through his jeans and cotton shirt, so her nerve endings kindled with the glow of it. His touch was gentle and concerned. Intimate.
“If you didn’t sound the alarm, Jake, then who did?” she asked, needing to hear the sound of a voice, any voice that would distract her from this vulnerability that made a total lie out of her composure.
“You’re sure the alarm didn’t go off in the monitoring station?”
“No, I’m not sure. I assume it didn’t because Opal and Eddie were in there.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that her father had claimed responsibility. This was a family situation, and no matter how confused she was about her feelings for Jake at the moment, he wasn’t privy to family situations.
Even if he had helped with Lance.
“We need to see the reports from the Golden Hawk central monitoring station,” he said. “They’re the security company that Innovative Engineering used at the time.”
“They went out of business years ago.”
“Wouldn’t their reports have been admitted as evidence in your father’s trial?”
“I don’t know the statute of limitations.”
“I can have my attorneys inquire—”
“No, thanks. I’ve got a friend in the department who’ll be able to find out and keep it quiet.” The absolute last thing she needed was for her dad to somehow get wind of her interest.
“Then give your friend a call in the morning. There, all fixed. Don’t worry anymore. We’ll figure it out.”
The together was in there again, but Mallory ignored it because she’d found solace in their conversation, a distraction from her troubled thoughts.
But that solace proved to be short-lived when he asked, “Answer something for me. Have you held me responsible for what happened that night?”
She wondered why he bothered to ask the question. Surely every move she’d made since he’d walked through her door this morning was painfully transparent. He must have guessed the answer, or at least part of it.
“Not entirely.”
“No?”
“Getting caught is a risk that comes with the job. It’s a given,” was all she said, unwilling to explain the irrational hurt and betrayal she’d felt.
“Did you want to get even with me? Is that why you accepted my proposal?”
He’d been honest. He’d met her unprovoked attack on his honor with kindness, and Mallory found that she couldn’t do anything less than meet his question with equal honesty.
She suddenly found herself grateful that she wasn’t looking him in the face, that she had the safety of distance between them.
“Yes.”
“What did you expect to do?”
She found his use of past tense interesting, as though somehow the situation had changed since they’d made love. “I wanted to screw with you.”
The bluntness of her reply seemed heavy and crude in the ensuing silence.
“You’re not talking about sex, I take it.” She shook her head, and he asked, “What did you think you’d accomplish?”
Again the past tense. “I thought I would feel better.”
“But you don’t?”
He put the question mark at the end of his sentence as a courtesy. And how could she respond, really? Could she admit that she’d been obsessing for the past ten years, that she’d planned to have a fling with him to get him out of her system and then laugh in his face when he wanted more?
She wasn’t laughing now, nor was she able to admit that making love with him today had changed everything.
“I don’t know,” she said, the ultimate cop-out, egress from the vulnerability that was hammering at her composure and fraying her around the edges. “But I do know that I can’t talk about this anymore or my head will explode.”
Jake could have laughed at her. He could have pointed out that she’d started this game and was now retreating like a coward.
He didn’t. He showed amazing insight into handling her when she was so close to the edge by letting her back out gracefully.
“Come to bed, Mallory,” was all he said.
He clearly assumed he’d been invited to install himself in her bed. A few hours ago she would have laughed in his face and proven that he should never assume with her. But now…
A part of her yearned simply to take his hand and let him lead her upstairs, to abandon herself to the oblivion she knew she would find in his arms. She was tempted. Too tempted.
“You go ahead, Jake. I need time to clear my head. I’ll be up in a little while.”
9
IF JAKE hadn’t made the call, then who had? The question played over and over again in Mallory’s head, a distraction from the more pressing problem at hand.
Controlling her reaction to this man.
A lost cause, if ever she saw one. She might choose not to open her veins and bleed in front of him, but she wouldn’t be anything less than honest with herself. And the simple truth was that this man impacted her on a level where she was completely unfamiliar and very uncomfortable.
Mallory curled in the corner of her sofa, knees drawn beneath her chin, staring into the darkness illuminated only by street lamps and the full moon glowing through her living-room windows. Her head spun with questions—and an intense awareness of the man upstairs and how much she wanted to be with him.
Revenge for a crime Jake hadn’t committed had ceased to be an issue. Getting a grip on her reaction to him and working him out of her system was now top priority. That and finding out what had really taken place on the Innovative job.
Forcing her thoughts back to the night in question, she struggled to concentrate when concentration felt beyond her reach. What had she missed that night? Who else could have been inside the building to make that call?
Mallory’s mind drifted back, recreating the memory in sharp detail, almos
t as if she dreamed in full color. Sitting in the back of the van while Polish Paul maneuvered through the late-night streets of Atlanta, grilling each of them in turn.
Reality check, he’d said, a familiar term that had thrown the crew instantly on alert.
Access through the security fence on the northwest corner of the property, her father said. Eddie and I cross the lot when the surveillance camera sweeps north.
Mallory and I follow when the camera sweeps back, Opal added.
Access through the roof to avoid the perimeter alarm. Then we’ll have fifteen seconds once we make the monitoring station to subdue the guard so I can disable the alarm, Eddie said.
I’ll monitor police communications on the scanner inside the van, Polish Paul said.
And so on and so on. They reviewed how much time they had to complete their individual jobs, the access and egress routes, procedure if anything went wrong. Each of them reciting their own job and the others’ jobs with equal familiarity.
It was tense work where adrenaline kicked them into a state of such complete concentration there was simply no time for nerves or emotion. Just skill and focus. A team that worked together like the gears in a clock, each component of the job coming off with precise timing.
Mallory remembered lowering herself into the warehouse foyer that night, so intent upon reaching the keypad and disabling the door sensor that she hadn’t sensed the presence of the young man watching her.
That had been her first mistake. The whole point of coming through the ceiling had been so she could surveil the room before entering. And she had. Jake hadn’t been there when she’d started down the line, but he’d shown up during her descent.
Chalk that one up to inexperience.
She should have made for her line the instant she’d seen him. She’d had less than two minutes to secure her dad’s egress route and manage her own. It would have taken her twenty-five seconds to get back through the ceiling where she should have radioed Polish Paul and told him she’d been made.
But there was just something about the way Jake had stood in that doorway watching her….
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