by Low, Gennita
There was still much to do. The scums who had used Jaymee against him had been mere mercenaries. They had given the names of their handlers, but in the world of covert games, handlers had handlers, and every personal agenda had to be determined before the next move.
Killian watched as Jed cleaned and cooked fish over an open fire. Grace was taking a nap close by, having been thoroughly worked out by her father that morning in a series of exercises. He could only marvel at the young girl’s tolerance for pain, for it was pain and endurance Jed was training her in.
He mulled over his next step. Jed had told him getting those men wasn’t enough. He had his own agenda to meet.
Killian understood. There was still Grace to think about and time spent training her meant extra time for Jed to assimilate his information and come up with a solution to the crisis waiting for them back at Command. For himself, this particular mission was over. Time to return to Command Center and be debriefed.
“I’m going back tomorrow,” he said. “Is everything taken care of?”
Jed’s glance was calculating. “It depends on what you mean.”
His attention returned to the fish. Killian sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for mind games.
“The hell you don’t.” He couldn’t help the curtness in his reply. Sleep had eluded him for weeks now.
“The satellites are going to be destroyed. The unit is still looking for me, and,” Jed paused a beat, then went on conversationally, “Jaymee had left a message where I told her.”
Killian wanted to punch something, someone. Even her name was painful to hear. “And?”
“The team came and swept the place, and she’s fine, I suppose.”
“What the hell do you mean, you suppose?”
He glared at his cousin’s cool silver stare. Jed shrugged. His tone of voice was deceptively nonchalant, meant to infuriate.
“I can’t vouch for what she’s going through or how she is, since I’m not there physically. She mentioned some young man looking for me, and that was all there was to her message.”
“She didn’t ask about me?” Why did he ask that? He didn’t want to know.
“Of course she did,” Jed replied, still in that mild voice. “What do you want me to tell her? That you don’t care, or that you do?”
“Damn you, Jed.”
“You’re the one looking damned, cousin.” The retort was dry, amused.
“Back off!” Killian all but snarled, then reined in his anger with effort. “What did you want me to do? Take her with me to D.C.? Leave her whenever I take off? I thought, of all people, you would understand the danger.” He regretted his outburst immediately. Jed didn’t deserve that. Sighing, he attempted to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight.”
Jed was silent as he turned the fish over in the pan. “There are always choices, Nick.”
“Yeah, tell Command that.”
“I haven’t reported to them you’re alive. In fact, you missed a relevant part of Jaymee’s message. They’re looking for me, Kill. No one else.”
The silence that followed was broken by Grace, who sat up in her sleeping bag, yawning.
“What do you mean?” Nick queried carefully, trying to read his cousin’s expression.
“You tell me. What do you want it to mean? Is the Programmer dead, or not? Has he disappeared? Enquiring agencies want to know.” There was true amusement tingeing Jed’s voice now.
To Nick’s amazement, Jed started to laugh as he continued to stare at him. His own mind was running a sixty-yard dash to...to what? Freedom. Jaymee. Sunshine. Jaymee.
“What about you?” he asked, his voice a low gravelly rumble. “You said Jaymee wrote someone was coming after you. They’ll get you sooner or later.”
Jed shrugged again, his usually harsh demeanor softened by amusement. “I’m not dead, just missing. I know how to keep in touch with them and give them relevant information just to show how much I miss them. They’ll find me in a year or so. I’ll give that young tracker that long, and if he fails, I’ll show up at Command Center like I promised.”
“Maybe the tracker will give up.” It was entirely possible. Tracking the Ice Man wasn’t an easy assignment, and a young tracker probably didn’t have the experience or the patience.
“Not likely. I ran a check on him while I was sending in the report. Lance Mercy has an interesting file. Five years in COMCEN and already shot up the ranks like a rocket. He single-handedly, it seems, tracked down and revealed the identity of the Beijing Butcher to Command last year.”
Nick whistled softly. “Impressive. Sounds like you’re going to have fun. The Beijing Butcher and the Ice Man under his belt in five years. I’d like to meet young Mercy some day.”
“He hasn’t found me yet.” Jed looked in Grace’s direction. “And he won’t, till she’s ready.”
Nick followed his gaze. “She’s special.”
“So is Jaymee.” Jed actually smiled at Nick. “Give her my love.”
“The hell I will.” He still held a grudge against Jed for kissing her. “The next time you kiss her, it’d better be a brotherly smack on the cheek.”
Jed’s shapely lips quirked with mockery. “That is, if she’s married to you.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean now?”
Taking his time, Jed turned the fish over.
“Meat’s done,” Grace murmured from where she was as she sniffed the air. “Just like Cousin Kill.”
Jed slanted a look at his daughter’s direction. “Jaymee strikes me as someone who evades anyone who hurt her badly.” He sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s probably never going to forgive you.”
That did it. Killian stood up in a hurry.
“Hey, Nick.”
He turned and scowled down at his cousin. Manipulating bastard. He knew he’d been expertly played.
“Do keep in contact, so I know I don’t stand a chance with the lady.”
And Jed laughed again. Grace grinned at Killian cheekily.
“See ya sometime, cousin Nick,” she said, waving.
*
Jaymee didn’t contact anyone while she was in Europe. She was, finally, alone. And lonely. Europe was enchanting, beautiful--everything she had imagined it to be. She sat down by a fountain in Piazza Navona, entertained only by a mime who told her in actions she looked lonely. She’d smiled back and nodded, giving him a tip for such insight. She leaned against the leaning tower of Pisa and wondered how such weakness could survive all its problems. She climbed up the Alps and wondered whether the glaciers were as cold as her heart. She ate without relish the foreign dishes, dutifully trying the different wines, the warm beer, the exotic chocolates, the array of cheeses. Everything.
Every cathedral and museum was a monument of her own deadness. So she went shopping instead, maxing out her credit card. Clothes in Rome. Perfume in Paris. Lace in Venice.
She looked at the superb statue of David and wished she could buy it to take home because it reminded her of someone warmer, sexier, with the big parts intact. Looking at the Greek deities, she wondered whether a fig leaf would look funny on Nick. That had brought out a bitter laugh. It seemed she couldn’t forget, no matter where she was.
And late at night, she still cried.
Home.
Jaymee pulled up at the driveway to her house exactly six weeks after she left for Europe. The evening sun was a giant orange globe, getting ready for fall weather. Other than that, as she looked listlessly around, nothing had changed.
Her father greeted her with a hug. “It was wonderful to hear your voice over the phone,” he said, looking robust and healthy. “I sure have missed you, Jaymee girl.”
“How’s everything? Work OK?”
She pulled the suitcases out of her trunk. She had left with a small bag and returned with three giant ones.
“Oh, we’ve been busy. Anderson called just a few days ago, in fact, and he says the roofs by Glenn’s men
are leaking, and he wants us back.” Bob laughed. “I told him he needed to negotiate the price with you when you return. It felt good saying that, after what he did. Everything’s fine, in fact...you look different, Jaymee girl. Very good.”
She was dressed different, that was all. Her father hadn’t seen her in anything more than a work shirt and pants for most of eight years. Now, she was wearing a designer blouse and short skirt. Beneath her outfit, she wore expensive lingerie and French perfume. Even her hair had been cut and restyled. But no amount of change on the outside healed the emptiness she felt inside.
“Thanks, Dad.”
She looked around the house after her luggage was brought in. Everything was tidy. The kitchen sink was clean. The tile floor had been mopped. Even the living room had been dusted down. Her father, it seemed, had survived better without her.
“The house looks great.”
“I have a...er...housemate now,” Bob admitted, looking uncomfortable. “I hope you don’t mind, Jaymee girl. I wasn’t sure when you were coming back and all, and well, I needed someone to supervise the roofing work. I told him it ain’t a permanent position, so...”
“Dad, it’s your roofing business too,” Jaymee interrupted. Her father was right; he couldn’t possibly work like she did. She smiled, thinking he probably enjoyed the male company. “A clean housemate is always welcomed. Where is he?”
“He...uh...he’s back at your house, the one you bought.”
She froze. “What?”
“Well, he liked to work and I set him to clear the main driveway to the house for easier access. He...”
“No one touches that house,” Jaymee cut in tonelessly. “You shouldn’t have let him. Just because I let you know about the place didn’t mean I wanted you to work on it.”
She saw her words hurt her father’s feelings, but she didn’t care. No one was allowed to go where she and Nick had spent time together.
“I didn’t know,” Bob apologized. “When the delivery men showed up after you left, I just thought...”
Jaymee sighed. She remembered her phone orders for shingles and gravel. She couldn’t blame her father for assuming she wanted work to continue on that house while she was away. After all, she hadn’t left any instructions.
“I...I’ll just go over there and meet him now, I guess.” She had to be polite to this man, for her father’s sake. “You seem to like him, Dad.”
“Oh yes, sure do. He’s been a big help while you were away, and although I wasn’t sure whether I liked him at first, I find him...ah...a good man.”
“All right, we’ll talk more later, but I think I’ll drive over there to see how the house is, seeing you have cleared the driveway.”
“Go ahead. I think you’ll like it.” A small smile touched his lips.
Her little rental car wouldn’t have been able to reach the place over a month ago. Now, although the ride was bumpy, she could drive all the way in. She stared at the house as she emerged from the car, not knowing what to expect.
The sound of an airgun riveted her attention to the roof. When there was a pause between the noise, she yelled up to the unseen man.
“Hello!” Damn. In her hurry to get here, she had forgotten to ask his name. “Umm, can you hear me up there? I’m Bob’s daughter, Jay.”
She heard some answer she couldn’t make out from the back side of the roof and moments later, the familiar sound of someone getting down a ladder. She walked around the cleared up shrubs, taking quick notice of the new coat of paint on the siding before turning the corner to meet...looking up at the descending man, she almost tripped.
Her eyes must be playing tricks on her. Her mouth opened and then closed, as she stared into intense blue-gray eyes.
Nick slowly approached Jaymee, his eyes devouring her. Not seeing her had been torturous, and not even knowing where she was the last six weeks had almost driven him crazy with worry. He should have known to expect the unexpected where Jaymee was concerned. No wallowing in misery for her. No work as usual. The woman had packed up and taken a vacation in Europe! He could only shake his head in disbelief when he’d shown up at her doorstep with flowers in hand, only to be informed by Bob Barrows nobody knew where she was or when she would be back.
As the weeks went by with still no word from her, he’d wondered whether she would come back after all. In fact, he’d been near breaking point when her phone call came, telling her father she was returning home. He knew she would come looking for the stranger meddling with her house as soon as Bob told her. This was her private place, her sanctuary, and she wouldn’t want anyone to make any changes without her say so.
He paused, unable to say anything just yet. She looked so beautiful. His eyes hungrily took in every inch of her, from the shiny auburn mane to the sophisticated ensemble she wore, down to the elegant leather shoes. It dawned on him he’d been so blind, thinking she’d never leave her safe little world. This woman could fit anywhere, would go anywhere, if she wanted to.
“Hello, Jaymee.” Nick broke the silence between them. “You look...sensational.”
She had gained some weight, adding a softness to her face. She was the picture of feminine allure, standing there with the setting sun illuminating her glorious curls and haunting eyes. In short, she was the most desirable thing in his life.
“It...is you.” Her voice was incredulous.
“Yes,” he said, simply.
“Why?”
Jaymee couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her. This must be a mirage. If she moved, he would disappear back into her dreams. Her heart ached at the sight of his familiar face, with those incredibly-lashed eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to push aside that roguish lock of hair.
She wanted to, but she didn’t dare. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe moving would wake her up.
“Because I love you, Jaymee.”
She began to shake. Her hand came up to cover her trembling mouth.
Nick’s eyes never left her face as he took the last few steps toward her. His voice was pitched low, almost a mutter. “I missed you. These last few months have been hell on earth. Jaymee, I need you.”
She didn’t care whether this was a hallucination. It was killing her. She pressed her hand harder against her mouth, trying to contain the loud gasps coming from inside her, and she blindly backed away from him. Her sobs were heartbreaking, uncontrollable.
“Oh, God. Don’t. Don’t cry, baby, please.”
In one swift moment, Nick lifted, gathering her pliant body high against his heart. Catching her scent, he closed his eyes for a moment, letting it fill his lungs, his whole being. God, he’d missed her. He could feel her trembling as he carried her indoors, and he wanted to kick himself for hurting this woman so much.
He sat down on the old sofa, with her on his lap, and held her against him, letting her cry. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to love her. But her tears had him helpless and unsure. He didn’t know how to deal with such grief.
“Please stop crying,” he finally pleaded, stroking her hair. “I don’t want you to be sad. I never wanted you to be sad. All I ever wanted was for you to live a safe, happy life.”
“I tried, Nick,” Jaymee whispered, looking up at him, her eyes red from crying. “But I’m dead inside. There’s a void in me that gets bigger every day. And it hurts. It hurts so much.”
He’d felt the same. This was the first time in months he felt truly alive, and it was because she was in his arms again.
“I’m not leaving you, Jaymee,” he told her softly. Seeing her wide, questioning eyes, he explained, “The Programmer is dead, killed by an explosion on board his sailboat. If you will have me...?”
He left the question dangling, his eyes searching. As she digested the news, a slow smile lit her face up. Nick caught his breath. He’d never forget the look in her eyes. Sheer joy. Love. The sunlight to his heart. He smiled back.
“What do you intend to be, a kept man?” she asked.
Nick
’s smile became wolfish. “The idea does have some appeal. Remind me to inform Jed and my unit when they bother me.” He ran a gentle finger over her frown, as he went on, “I won’t ever be entirely free from my job, Jaymee, but Jed has given me some choices. I owe him, if he ever needs me.”
She understood, and would never ask him to relinquish something he so wanted to do. As long as he was hers, she didn’t care. The happiness bubbling inside could conquer anything.
“OK,” she simply said. “Now, being a kept man, I order you to kiss me.”
His lips were at first gentle, as if he was afraid his passion would crush her, but at her eager response, his kiss became deeper, hungrier. His tongue danced across hers, teasing and loving, telling her without words everything he was feeling. This, she thought in a fiery haze, was what had been missing in Europe, this feeling of belonging, of being alive.
“I want to show you the house, what I’ve done.” He rained kisses on her eyes, her nose, the corners of her lips. “I did it all by myself, you know.”
“Are you looking to hire some help?” Jaymee asked, her hands busy tugging at his tee-shirt to get at the muscled body underneath. “I’m a pretty good roofer.”
Nick pulled back and arched a brow down at her. Casting a leer down the length of her designer-clad body, he drawled, “Don’t look like a construction worker to me at all, miss.” He pulled off one of her heels, examining it with a mocking smile. “Wrong shoes.” He threw it over his shoulder, and grabbed her manicured hand. Kissing the tips of pink-tipped nails, he said, “Clean nails, and,” he ran a finger up her arm, “no tattoos.”
It was so good to laugh again. So good to be alive again. She raked her nails down his chest, and grinned at the sharp intake of breath. “Let me show you how good I am at finding leaks,” she invited.
Nick didn’t need further encouragement.
*
Someone turned on the light. Jaymee groaned and turned over.
“I’ve something to show you, sweetheart. Wake up.”