With a long, low groan he left her lips, needing more. He drew his mouth, his tongue, and his teeth along her jaw, then pulled her head back and buried his face in the curve of her neck. Her flesh was damp and hot and tasted so damn sweet.
She began to move against him, tiny shuddering motions at first, then her hips began to rotate.
Breathing heavily and holding on to the last shreds of his will, he stopped her actions by tightening his arm around her. “Slow … we gotta slow down,” he said against her neck. He kissed the pulse point below her ear. “I’m going to explode, Rae.”
Stilling her hips hadn’t stopped her, though. She took full advantage of his sudden break and went about unraveling him even further by laying a trail of tiny openmouthed kisses down his neck. She pushed up against him at the same time she reached for his head and tugged it down. “So, go ahead,” she whispered, her voice as husky as his. She looked him straight in the eye. “I want to see you lose control.” She bit his chin, then took his mouth.
He gave up.
His kisses warred with hers. Each battled for control, but neither cared who was winning. He dropped shaking hands to the buttons on her shirt, running his tongue and the edge of his teeth across her neck and shoulder as he bared them.
She tensed suddenly. The frantic motion of her hips stopped, and her mouth closed against his. He was so fully engaged, it took a moment for it to register that she hadn’t paused in anticipation.
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. They were half-closed with unfulfilled need; her skin was almost feverishly flushed. But the fierce glitter in her eyes wasn’t fueled only by passion.
Fear. Fear was what he saw.
That stopped him faster than a bullet to the heart. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
For a split second he saw her falter, saw what almost looked like regret flash in her eyes, then it was gone, along with the fear.
“I just wanted you to know,” she began, then stopped to draw in breath. Her chest heaved with the effort.
Jarrett took little satisfaction in that, his instincts all but screaming that he was going to hate what was coming next.
“This won’t change things,” she said finally. “Between us, I mean. I still won’t work for you.”
As usual, his instincts were right. He went rigid, his passion swerving effortlessly to fury, and he clamped his jaw shut to avoid saying something he’d regret. If he’d been a little clearer-headed—and a little less aroused—he’d have also realized how much her words hurt.
He pushed her back until they weren’t touching, his body resenting the denial of her touch even as his mind called him a hundred different kinds of a fool. This was what came of letting himself want. There were good reasons he’d closed himself off, buried his needs so deeply in the cold and dark he’d forgotten he had any. He didn’t thank her for the reminder.
“Is that what you think I’m doing here?” he asked, his tone so quiet, so calm, it unnerved even him. “You think this is some sort of persuasion technique?”
Rae shivered at the dead, flat sound of his voice. It was all she could do to keep her hands at her sides.
She hated this, doing this to him. But there was no choice. Dammit, how had she let it get so out of control?
How could she have forgotten?
She’d wanted him so badly, she’d dared him to take her. And the hell of it was she still wanted him to take her.
Thank God she’d stopped him in time. Another second and he’d have uncovered … would have seen …
Ugly, twisted images assaulted her mind, and it took considerable willpower to shove them back into the dark pit where she’d locked them. In her panic, she’d said the first thing she could think of, the one thing certain to make him back off. Certain to make him angry enough not to get close again.
“Answer me, dammit!”
She took a shaky step backward. “I don’t know what to think,” she said, knowing that at least was partly the truth. “But I know we shouldn’t do this.”
“I don’t use sex to coerce my operatives,” he said, his jaw so tight his cheekbones stood out in stark relief.
“I’m not one of your operatives.”
She realized her mistake immediately and took another step back without realizing it. Eyes narrowed, he pushed away from the wall and walked toward her, his limp somehow renewing her awareness of him as a predator.
“Then we don’t have a problem, do we?” he said, his voice smoky and seductive.
She swallowed hard. He was huge and powerful. Aroused and angry. A dangerous combination. But along with her fear, she couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation of excitement that raced through her. When he’d put his big hands on her body, it had been like nothing she’d ever felt before.
She’d never expected him to be sensual, seductive. He created desire, need, and passion. He made her want and, even more tantalizing, brought to her the thrill of expectation. But it was the unexpected that, in the end, had captivated her. The deep well of need she’d glimpsed in him, the vulnerability she’d felt in him—and that she’d felt compelled to respond to.
With great effort, she shook off those thoughts and focused on what he’d said. “If you agree I’m not an operative, then does that mean you’re not going to pressure me into helping you?”
He sighed and shoved his hand through his hair. “One has nothing to do with the other.”
“Maybe not to you. I don’t separate the two quite so easily.”
“Five minutes ago you weren’t even thinking about the mission or my role in it, much less yours,” he charged. “Well, neither was I. This has nothing to do with that.”
“I was the one who stopped it,” she reminded him. “Precisely because of that.” He stared at her so intently, she began to wonder if he suspected she wasn’t being completely truthful with him. That only served to bolster her determination.
She’d realized three things that day. One: Jarrett McCullough needed a sanctuary now as much as she had two years ago, no matter what he said. Two: She’d provide her home and do everything she could to guarantee his safety, but his sanctuary wouldn’t be her.
Because the third thing she’d learned was that she’d never wanted anything, anyone, so much in her entire life. And she knew better than to think she could actually have something she wanted.
“What aren’t you telling me, Rae?” He lifted a hand to her face, but she stepped away. Still, she caught his expression before he masked it. She’d expected anger, but what she saw in his eyes was hurt. That almost undid her resolve right there.
She, Rae Gannon, had the power to hurt him? Jarrett McCullough, the machine? The invincible one?
The very idea frightened her to death.
This time when she looked him in the eyes, she told him the truth. As much as she could, anyway. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t want you. That I don’t want you still.” She tensed against the dark light that flared in his eyes. “But I’ve spent a long time up here getting myself back.” She looked down at her hands as she twisted her fingers together, then finally back at him. Her voice softened. “I’ve seen a side of you in the last few days I didn’t know existed. A side maybe you didn’t know existed. And I think you need a break for more than just physical healing.”
She lifted her hands, palms up. “I’ve found that here. And I’m willing to share that with you. But that’s all I can share.” She wished she had anger as fuel, as she’d had the day before when she’d raged at him and spilled her guts. This was harder, much harder. Standing there, looking at him, and saying these things when she really wanted nothing more than to step into his arms and let him hold her tightly against his strong warm body, let him move his mouth and hands over her, let him make her forget all the ugliness …
But that was precisely why she couldn’t. She struggled to keep the pleading tone out of her voice. “I can’t live on just the physical level anymore and shut off the emotional. I know you’re leaving
here as soon as you heal. You’ll go back to a world I can’t even think about, much less deal with or live in.” She took a deep breath. “And I won’t hand you a part of me to take with you when you leave. I just don’t have that many parts left to lose.”
She stood there, praying he’d leave. If he pushed her any further, she didn’t think she’d be strong enough to hold out. She might have the ability to hurt him, but he had the ability to destroy her.
Jarrett couldn’t move. He doubted he was even breathing. He simply stared at her, accepting the bald truths she’d just ruthlessly cast at his feet. She was so damn strong.
And he’d never felt weaker. He wanted desperately to climb back into the safe, emotionless void he’d inhabited for more years than he could remember. He craved the blessed relief of not allowing himself to feel, or want, or need.
She wasn’t going to let him.
He looked at her and ached. Ached in places he didn’t know had feelings.
“I’ll leave you alone, Rae,” he said quietly, wondering even as he said it if this would be the first time he’d break his word. “I won’t touch you again.” Damn but that hurt to say. He drew in a ragged breath and moved away from her. “But that’s all. Whether I want to or not, I have to complete this mission. And you’re still my best bet.”
She folded her arms, her jaw rigid. “Well then, this is one bet you just lost, McCullough.”
He turned to leave, knowing it was pointless to press the matter now. It wouldn’t wait for long, though. He’d already lost four days.
“I’ll cook,” he said over his shoulder. “You finish up out here.”
He expected a sharp reply, or none at all. What he didn’t expect was for her to walk up behind him. He stilled even before she spoke, and it took an inordinate amount of control not to turn and yank her back into his arms. She wasn’t the only one who required some time and space to cool down.
“Here, take this with you,” she said.
He had to turn around then. When he did, she pushed a wooden pole into his hand. On closer examination, he realized she’d constructed a crude walking stick for him. It was nothing more than a thick dowel with a large wooden knob screwed into one end and duct tape wrapped around the other. He looked up at her. There was no expectation on her face. There was nothing at all.
His chest felt hollow. “You made this for me?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want to risk getting a crutch or a real cane from the clinic, but I buy a lot of lumber and hardware.” She gestured to several packing crates in the back corner. “An extra dowel and a few screws won’t raise any suspicions.”
“And buying men’s clothes didn’t?”
“It was just sweats and a few T-shirts. I kept them folded. The size wasn’t obvious.”
He didn’t know what to say. Again, she’d caught him off guard. “Thank you,” he said finally, his tone a bit gruff.
Leaning on the cane, noticing it was exactly the right length, he turned and started toward the back of the house. He knew she was watching him. Probably just admiring her handiwork, he told himself, even as he fought his body’s response.
Before he stepped inside the house, he turned. “Food in one hour.”
She didn’t say anything. She just ducked back inside and shut the door.
Rae sat on a stool in her shop and finished off the ham-and-cheese sandwich Jarrett had fixed. She knew it had been cowardly, not to mention useless, to duck out of a meal together by wrapping her sandwich up and heading back to the shop. She hadn’t bothered offering him an excuse. They both knew it would have been simply that, just as they both knew she’d only postponed the inevitable.
She didn’t care. She needed the time alone.
Her gaze slid to the spot beside the door where he’d pulled her against him. She purposely let herself imagine what it would be like to work in her shop every day, knowing he could drop in at any moment and ambush her with hot, breath-stealing kisses. Knowing that each day when she finished, Jarrett waited for her. She wouldn’t deny the dark thrill that fantasy sent shooting through her. But despite the allure of that scenario, she simply couldn’t imagine Jarrett sitting quietly in her house, or any house, doing nothing, just waiting. Waiting for her.
She shoved the depressing thoughts away. They reaffirmed the fact that she wasn’t ready to face him. Of course, she could sit out here for days and that fact wouldn’t change.
She sighed and pushed off the stool. No point in wasting any more time. It was late in the afternoon already and she knew better than to even attempt work. She’d likely burn the whole shop down.
And she had yet to tell him about the two men in town.
She stretched and groaned, telling herself not to feel guilty about putting it off. She wasn’t stupid. If she’d thought they were in imminent danger, she’d have told him straight off.
She took her time cleaning up. She double-checked the tanks and other tools before shutting off the lights and overhead fan. When she reached the house, she knew the moment she stepped inside that he wasn’t there. She didn’t question how she knew, didn’t want to. Instead she turned around and went back out, walking around to the front. Knowing McCullough, he’d taken the cane and was already attempting pole vaulting or something.
He wasn’t in front either. Nor was he on the upper deck. Frowning, she headed back inside. Maybe she’d been wrong about him being inside.
Her frown turned into a smirk. “Maybe you just think you know him well enough to sense his mere presence.” He was probably sleeping.
But a quiet check of his quarters—her room—proved it empty. Then she heard a high-pitched yip and spun around, senses totally alert. The sound repeated and she relaxed.
It was just the wolf pup. Probably viciously attacking another shop rag. The picture that thought created made her smile, and she found herself heading to the garage. She’d check his water, nothing else, she told herself, adding her earlier decision to call the authorities to the list of things she had to talk to Jarrett about.
The yipping sounds continued. Well, maybe one tug-of-war game wouldn’t totally destroy the animal’s natural instincts.
Rae froze in the open doorway to her garage.
Leaning back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, was Jarrett. He was using both hands to hold his end of the rag, and judging from the way his biceps were straining against the sleeves of his white T-shirt, the pup was giving him a run for it.
She watched in silence as the pup growled and snarled, all the while keeping a death grip on his end of the knotted rag. But it wasn’t the pup’s antics that held her rapt attention. It was Jarrett.
He was relaxed. Despite the ongoing battle, there was no tension in him. More than that, he was smiling. Actually, it was barely more than a slight turn of the corners of his mouth, but Lord, if it didn’t take her breath away.
His features were more relaxed than she’d believed possible. He looked a decade younger. Her heart pounded as she wondered what sort of man he’d have been if his life had gone in a different direction. If his life had been full of sunlight and happiness instead of darkness and death.
She tried to still the sudden yearning that thought spawned deep inside her. Yearning for something so impossible was beyond foolish.
Jarrett continued to yank and pull on the rag, then just when the pup crouched into a real tug, he let it loose. The pup went sprawling backward into a heap of fur and oversized feet.
Rae slapped her hand over her mouth to keep the gust of laughter from rushing out, but it was too late.
Jarrett’s head jerked around, his smile gone before his eyes locked on hers. Her laugh caught in her throat like a hard knot and her eyes suddenly burned. She felt like the worst sort of criminal for stealing that happy moment away from him.
“I’m sorry,” she said with more honesty than he could possibly intuit. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I, uh, I just came out to check on his water.”
“I
filled the bowl.”
She glanced over, eyeing the bowl for the first time and nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“You all done?” His gaze was intent, his expression blank.
Silence descended in the ensuing seconds. Even the pup was quiet, watching the two of them with avid interest.
Finally, Rae just nodded, wishing it didn’t have to be like this between them, but not knowing how there could be anything else. Not without it being too much.
Jarrett lifted his cane and, using the wall, pushed himself upright. He gestured with the cane. “After you.”
She turned and headed inside. “You want coffee or anything?”
“No.” He moved slowly past her toward the living room as she ducked into the kitchen.
She didn’t want anything either, but she needed more time. The scene in the garage had really thrown her. She hadn’t known what to expect from him after what had happened out in the shop, but his cold reserve was doubly hard to endure now, after seeing him so relaxed just moments ago.
Knowing she’d procrastinated too long as it was, she forced a deep breath in and out of her lungs, poured herself some iced tea, and followed him into the living room. It was a huge room, the heavy-beamed walls unadorned except for several woven rugs made by an Appalachian artist she’d discovered on one of her rare trips to a buyer. The ceiling extended all the way up to the peak of the A-frame, and a beautiful oak and brass Casablanca fan hung from a thick beam that stretched across the width of the room. The front wall was almost all glass, completely unadorned, and provided a stunning frame for the setting sun as it cast a rainbow of colors over the tree-covered slope of the mountain and across the valley.
The room was furnished with several twig chairs, a deep-set Adirondack chair fronted by an overstuffed hassock, a small rattan couch covered with a thick patch-work quilt and several handmade pillows, and a coffee table made from a heavy oval cross section of mahogany. Rae felt warm and cozy here, protected. A glance out the window hugged that protective feeling with the greater sensation of freedom.
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