A warmth blossomed inside him as he accepted the rather intimidating fact that he’d like to be around to find out. He ignored the relative improbability of that ever happening and concentrated instead on the surprising warmth. It took him a second to realize what it was. Happiness.
Happiness. What in the hell was that?
If anyone had asked him that a week ago, he’d have said that happiness was completing a mission with no loss of life. What did it say about him that he would never have thought about happiness in anything remotely resembling personal terms?
“I’ve set up the file,” Rae said, her back still to him.
Jarrett scooted several feet and snagged his cane, then slowly levered himself to his feet. The downward rush of blood sent his head spinning for a moment. He waited for his vision to clear, then found a padded office chair and rolled it over next to Rae. He carefully lowered himself into it, a small grunt of relief escaping his lips.
She turned to face him. “You sure you’re up to this?”
Around her, he was invariably “up,” was his first thought. That faded as he stared at her. It was always there, he realized, in her eyes, even when they were arguing. Caring, honest concern and, sweet Lord, desire.
For a man who couldn’t have defined happiness in a roomful of dictionaries five days ago, he sure as hell could describe it now, in great detail. It was sitting right next to him.
“Jarrett?”
Why her? And worse, why now? Hell, he admitted silently, when in his life would the timing have been right?
He struggled to find his voice, more than a little afraid that when he did speak, it would be to beg her not to go, to forget about the mission, to say the hell with everything they both believed in and just hole up here in her sanctuary in the mountains and never come down.
Personal happiness. Now he knew why he’d never allowed himself to consider it. You couldn’t get hurt if you lost something you never had.
“I’m ready,” he said shortly, struggling to get back into the role he was supposed to be playing. He didn’t even attempt to analyze when he’d begun to think of it as a role. “I’m sure as hell not going to be climbing those stairs again anytime soon. So it’s now or never.”
Rae studied him closely for a long moment, making him wonder if he hadn’t concealed his thoughts as well as he’d believed. But then she turned back to the monitor and keyboard and the moment was gone.
“What do you want the message to say?”
“Since it’s likely Zach won’t be the one picking it up, I’ll have to be careful. It’ll probably be Beaudine, which is what I’m counting on.”
Rae turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Beaudine?”
“Delacroix,” Jarrett said. “Zach’s assistant, housekeeper, cook, and all-around battle-ax.” He was only dimly aware of his smile as he continued. Smiling was getting easier all the time. “She’s somewhere between fifty-five and eighty-five, hasn’t changed by so much as a hair or wrinkle in the five years I’ve known her. She’s a proud Cajun woman whose cooking would make the best chefs in the world weep and who has the kind of contacts that would bring generals to their knees.” His teeth flashed as he added, “Which makes her perfect for Zach since he eats more than anyone I’ve ever met and is owed favors from the few dozen people Beaudine somehow missed.”
Rae sat back in her chair, stunned. Not only by the smile that had come so naturally to his lips, but by the obvious affection he had for this woman, and for Zach. Affection wasn’t an emotion she associated with Jarrett McCullough. Respect, admiration, even desire, but this … It was clear that in his own way, he loved them both. She wondered if they knew what a rare gift he’d given them.
In the next instant his smile faded and she could have sworn his cheeks colored. That he was self-conscious of what he’d revealed was as obvious as it was endearing. She wondered if he himself had just now realized what he felt for these people he claimed as friends.
“She sounds quite intimidating,” Rae said at last.
Jarrett nodded. “She’s that and more. I’m still not sure how Zach hooked up with her, but they’ve been good for each other, both professionally and personally.” He looked more than a little perturbed by his insight, and cleared his throat. “Anyway, as much as I’m sure his employees are trustworthy, Beaudine is really the only one who’ll know how to contact Zach and relay the message without making any dangerous mistakes.”
“Contact Zach? Where is he?”
Jarrett shrugged. “He could be anywhere. And I mean anywhere. I said before that he’s a thrill seeker by profession. Trust me, the places he goes with his clients don’t usually include little luxuries like fax machines or phones. But Beaudine will reach him.”
“And he’ll just drop everything and fly halfway around the world to help you out? That’s what I call a friend.”
Looking more uncomfortable by the minute, Jarrett turned his chair to face the desk and pulled the keyboard in front of him. “Like I said, his employees are trustworthy. He’ll get one of them to cover the remainder of whatever trip he’s on. It’ll be okay.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself as much as reassure her.
“Do you do this often?” she asked. When he looked at her blankly, she added, “Ask your friends for help, I mean?”
“Not if I can help it.”
There was no trace of a smile now, and the seriousness of the problem they faced was immediately thrust back between them. Rae knew she should have welcomed it, but she would have been lying if she’d said she didn’t enjoy any chance she had to learn more about him.
“But he has helped you before?” she asked, persisting despite knowing she shouldn’t.
Jarrett scowled at her. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did. “Every once in a while. But usually with more planning and certainly with more notice. I’m going to owe him after this one.”
From the look on his face, Jarrett already knew what the payback was likely to be. “And just what does he get you to do for him?” she asked, intrigued.
“Go on vacation.” He said it like a man sentenced to two years’ hard labor.
Rae nodded, understanding that to someone like Jarrett, a forced break from his life would be one of the toughest things to ask.
“What do you do on these vacations?” She tried to picture him lying on a beach somewhere and couldn’t even imagine it.
A dry smile curved his mouth. “Once a year Zach makes it his mission to reunite the three musketeers of Madison County.”
She laughed at the unexpected answer. “Three musketeers?”
“Zach Brogan, Dane Colbourne, and me. We spent a bunch of years together as kids. We’ve stayed in touch, mainly due to Zach and his trips.” He shook his head. “Like I don’t spend most of the year trying to keep my hide in one piece, and Zach’s idea of a vacation usually involves risking life and limb on a regular basis for several days at a time. And the idiot actually thinks it’s fun.”
“So do you, I think,” Rae said softly, completely entranced with how vibrant and young he looked when he let himself relax.
He made a rusty sound that might have been an attempt at a chuckle. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
“When was the last time you three were together?”
He paused for a moment, the smile fading from his face, the tension slowly returning. “Too long,” he answered. He rolled his shoulders and straightened in his chair. “We’re wasting time we don’t have.”
Rae accepted the change in the direction of their conversation, knowing she’d already stolen more moments from him than she could ever have expected. But when he started to type, she swiftly slid the keyboard out from under his fingers and back in front of her.
“Hal and I have an agreement.”
He’d already opened his mouth to argue, but as her words sank in he closed it. A second later he asked, “You named your computer?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Rae struggled not to squirm. She
didn’t form attachments easily or often. Ever, actually. And while giving something a name definitely signified commitment to her, naming a machine was hardly the same thing. None of this did she want to explain to Jarrett. Not because she was afraid he wouldn’t understand, but because he was the one person who probably would.
“Yes. You know,” she said, trying to affect a nonchalant tone. “After the computer in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. Like that Hal, he has a mind of his own and will take over at the least provocation. So, unless you want to type this whole thing in and then lose it, you’d better let me do it.”
“If it’s giving you that much trouble, you ought to have it serviced,” Jarrett said. “Obviously something isn’t working right.”
Rae wouldn’t admit it to him or anyone, but she sort of enjoyed her battles with Hal. It wasn’t as if she used the computer that often anyway. “I can’t exactly drop him off at the corner computer store. If it gets worse, I’ll get around to it one of these days.”
She spent a second too long looking at Jarrett and was forced to return her attention to the computer when understanding dawned in his eyes. Dammit, she thought. He saw too much. In a very short time he was discovering and uncovering too much of what she’d managed to bury in the last two years.
“Just make sure this transmission doesn’t get screwed up,” was all he said.
“Do you encode or encrypt your transmissions with Zach? And would Beaudine be able to decipher them?” she asked, forcibly returning to the task at hand.
“Yes and yes.”
Jarrett spent the next ten minutes dictating what to type and how. Then they sent the message.
“How long do you think it will take for Zach or Beaudine to pick it up?” Rae asked.
“At most a couple of hours. It’s a weekday, so she’ll be in some part of the house. She’ll hear the beep.”
“His office is in his house?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess a business like his doesn’t take much space.”
“He lives in the farmhouse he grew up in.”
“In Madison County?”
“Right.”
It was like pulling teeth. “Iowa? Wisconsin?”
Jarrett looked startled for a moment, as if he was surprised by her continued interest. What did he think their earlier conversation had been to her? she wondered. Idle chitchat?
“Virginia,” he answered impatiently, but she could hear the honest confusion underneath.
So Jarrett had grown up not all that far from her mountain. “Does your family still live there?”
His face shut down again. There was no light in his eyes and his mouth was a grim line. “No.”
That one word made it clear that her probing had come to another abrupt end.
“Do you want to wait up here? I could go fix us something to eat.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “Besides, I should check on the pup.”
Jarrett looked at her for a long moment. He was grateful she’d let the subject of his childhood drop so easily. He also knew what had motivated her casual offer to feed the wolf and them. Escape. Despite the unusual turns of their conversation and her earlier declaration about getting him into a bed, he had no doubt that she needed a little space. A little time. They didn’t have much of that precious commodity, but he wasn’t going to force it.
“It’ll probably be a while,” he said, lifting his cane. “I’ll grab a quick shower while you’re in the kitchen.”
“Great.” Concern colored her expression. “Be careful, though. You probably shouldn’t get those stitches wet.” That said, she didn’t waste any time heading for the door, and Jarrett found himself stifling another smile.
Their time would come, he thought. Come hell or high water.
She turned in the doorway. “Do you, uh, need any help?
No, he thought, I know exactly how to do what I want to do. “I can manage. You check the pup. I think I hear him howling again.”
Relief outweighed the concern in her eyes. “Yell if the stitches tore or anything. Otherwise, I’ll call you when the food’s ready.” She turned and hurried down the stairs.
Jarrett didn’t know whether to smile or groan. She made him want to do both on a fairly regular basis.
As he slowly descended the steep flight he realized he didn’t mind it at all.
Less than thirty minutes later Rae approached the door to his—her—their?—bedroom. She shook that image from her mind. The door was open and there was no sound of the shower from the adjoining bathroom. She tapped on the frame.
“McCullough? The pup’s been fed, now it’s our turn,” she said, stepping into the room. “Are you ready—” She stopped both words and movement upon coming face-to-face, or rather face-to-back with Jarrett’s prone body. His half-dressed, sleeping body. He was sprawled facedown across the top of the comforter wearing only a pair of sweats. His hands were clutching the pillow he’d balled up under his head, his hair was a damp rumple of waves.
Considering his various aches and injuries, she couldn’t see how that position was even remotely comfortable, but the gentle steady breathing she heard told her otherwise.
Either that or he’d pushed himself so hard, he’d likely just dozed off where he’d fallen after washing up.
She frowned at the thought. He was so good at covering things up, she’d gone long periods that day forgetting just how bad off he’d been a mere five days ago, how much he must still be hurting despite his attempts to prove otherwise.
Had it only been five days since she’d found him in that cave? It seemed longer, much longer.
“And not nearly long enough,” she murmured, thinking of the message she’d just copied, printed, and then deleted from Hal’s hard drive.
She took a step back, intending to leave the room and let him get some much-needed rest. He’d be angry—furious—that she hadn’t woken him immediately upon hearing back from Zach. The message was encoded, but she’d deciphered enough from having typed the original message to know that Zach himself had received the transmission and was waiting further word.
Jarrett, though, was in no shape to conduct a plan the magnitude of which she knew was necessary to warn the Bhajulis of the impending attack. And she knew enough about the time frame they were operating under to know that another hour wouldn’t make that much difference.
But instead of backing out of the room, she found herself walking over to the bed. She needed to refill the water pitcher, she told herself, ignoring the fact that Jarrett could now get his own water.
She reached for the pitcher, but her attention got caught by the way his hair had tumbled over his forehead. It did little to soften the frown that creased his face even in sleep. His hand clenched the fistful of pillow so tightly that his biceps had contracted, the ridge of the vein bisecting it clearly visible.
Rae’s hand dropped to her side as she gave in to the need simply to stare at him.
His shoulders were wide and densely muscled. She resisted the urge to press her hands against his bare skin, to work the strain from his muscles, to ease the ache he must feel in his shoulder and ribs. Her gaze drifted to the string-tightened waist of his sweats, now riding low on his hips, then naturally continued over the taut curve of his buttocks and the well-developed legs she could picture from memory.
Tension and need and want coiled and tightened inside of her until she thought she’d explode from trying to contain them, to manage them.
“This is pathetic,” she mumbled, wrenching her gaze away. She turned to leave, the water pitcher forgotten.
“Hey.”
The muffled sound of his gravelly voice had her spinning around guiltily. At the last second she thought to cover her actions and moved for the water pitcher. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” she said hurriedly.
Faster than lightning, his hand snaked out and snagged her wrist, tugging her down onto the bed.
“Jarrett, your leg!”
He rolled on his hip
as she fell and caught her other arm. Both her wrists held in his hands, her palms splayed on his chest, he tugged her close so she was on her side facing him.
“That’s better,” he said, the sleepy quality of his voice not disguising the smugness.
“Better than what?” she asked, still short of breath, though not entirely from the unexpected fall. “You know as well as I do that I could be off this bed in ten seconds flat.”
“I also know you could have avoided falling altogether.”
“So my skills are a little rusty. I hardly expected to be blindsided in my own bedroom.” Wrong thing to say, she acknowledged immediately. His pupils dilated swiftly, providing an excellent window for the desire he made no attempt to hide. Either in his eyes, or in the pressure he exerted against her stomach.
“If you’d turned around when you realized I was asleep, you wouldn’t have had to worry about an attack at all,” he admonished.
Her eyes narrowed as she accurately read between the lines. “Just how long were you awake?”
“From the moment you tapped on the door frame.”
“You rat!”
“I guess. Among other things.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
The beginnings of a smile curled his lips. The effect was lazy and seductive and all the more dangerous for how quickly it worked on her. “Because,” he answered, “I finally figured out that catching you off guard is practically the only way I can get you to call me by my first name. And I’ve gotten to like it.”
“I call you Jarrett all the time.”
“No, you don’t.”
His obvious confidence in that fact rattled her. He kept track? Rae was already dealing with her body’s riotious reactions to being pressed against the very body it had spent the last five minutes lusting after. She wasn’t up to the cerebral maneuvers required to analyze this latest puzzle piece. “So what’s wrong with your last name? You don’t like it?” It was a ridiculous argument and yet she couldn’t seem to let it drop.
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