by Taylor Lee
Her cheeks flushed, she spit out angrily, “What’s it to you? Commander.” She added disparagingly, “I believe that’s what you’re calling yourself now.”
He gave a soft snort and said, “Yes, that is my title at the moment and what you should call me.” When her cheeks flushed even brighter and she didn’t answer him, he repeated his request. “Please, Viviana, sit down.”
When she continued to stand and her glare hardened more, he said softly, “I meant what I said, Viviana. As you may recall, the last time I saw you, you weren’t doing well.” He waited a moment and then at her silent glare, he repeated, “Please, tell me. How are you doing? Have you recovered from your injuries?”
Her lip curled in a sneer and her chin rose an inch. “How I am, Commander, is none of your business.” She added dismissively, “And for your information, my name is Sergeant Moreau. I would appreciate it if you would call me by my correct title.”
At her open hostility, Jax let a smile tug at his lips. He shook his head and said, “Ever the antagonist, right, Detective?”
She glared at him and said angrily, “Goddammit, what do you want from me?”
Jax rose to his feet and met her heated gaze. He was silent for a moment and then said carefully, “I want to see if we can make this challenging situation less—”
She interrupted him. “What situation might that be? Commander?”
Jax expelled an audible sigh. “Let me finish, Viviana. I would like to make the situation we’re in the middle of less challenging . . . as undramatic as possible.”
Viviana startled, then smashed her lips together in a hard line. “Lucky for you, Commander, I’m not into drama.”
Jax raised a brow and couldn’t stifle the teasing grin quirking his lips. “Hmm, so I noticed.”
Her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, and her lips quivered. Clenching her hands in tight fists at her sides, her voice shook with intensity. “And . . . just so you know. There is no situation between us. There never was, and there isn’t one now! And . . . and goddamn you, there never will be!”
He didn’t miss the tears that flooded her stormy eyes as she whirled toward the door and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Staring at the shuddering door, Jax sank down onto his chair and shook his head. Steepling his fingers thoughtfully, he breathed a hard sigh, wondering for the hundredth time how the hell he’d thought that he could ever see her again and not have his dick come to attention. Christ, it was a fucking miracle the damn thing hadn’t broken through his zipper the moment she tipped up her saucy chin. With a groan, he thanked his hapless staff for small miracles, which didn’t begin to describe the size of the fearsome prick in his pants fighting to be free.
****
“Over here, Jax. We’ve saved the guest of honor spot for you, Commander Hughes.”
Jax turned at the sound of the voice to see Mac McElroy standing beside a table in the rear of the pub. He planted a smile on his face and headed for the group that, in addition to Mac, Paul Davis, Lt. Jensen, and Detective O’Reilly, included a smallish man in an expensive suit whom he hadn’t met.
Grasping Mac’s extended hand as the big man pulled him into a one-armed hug, Jax laughed. “Well, well, so this is where all the important people eat.” Glancing at Commissioner Davis, he said with a grin, “Would have thought, Paul, that you only eat lunch in the swanky joints. With all the politicos, not with the hoi polloi at Flemings Bar and Grill.”
Davis’s ruddy face split in a responding grin, and he patted his bulging stomach that hung over his belt. “Unfortunately for me and my formidable gut, I appear to be a growing man in need of real food. Not the ‘good for you’ crap that all the swanky places are swilling these days. Hell, in the mayor’s dining room, they aren’t even serving booze at lunch.” The big man with the dancing eyes assumed an injured air. “Now tell me, Jax, how the hell can a guy make it through the day with the assholes we deal with without a midday libation, or three, to grease the wheels?”
In the general laughter that greeted his friend’s remarks, Jax nodded in agreement. “Spoken like a former special ops guy. We learned that a shot or two of whatever booze we could get our hands on could mellow even the craziest, sickest op we were on. Not that we always had access, but when we did, we sure as hell imbibed.”
Having ingratiated himself into the group of smiling men, Jax met the gaze of the wiry, sharp-eyed man at the head of the table. Nodding at O’Reilly and Jensen, he said, “I know everyone here, including these two rascals in my squad who are apparently responsible for letting me know the inside dope on what I’m getting myself into. However, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He reached over and extended his hand to the man, who rose to greet him.
“No, we haven’t met, Commander Hughes, but let me say I consider it an honor that Mac and Paul were able to convince you to come to our humble digs. Your stellar reputation precedes you. For your information, my name is Frank Reynolds, and I have the privilege of handling public affairs for the offices of the mayor and the commissioner.”
Jax quirked a brow as he sank onto his seat and pinned the smiling man with a grin. “Hmm, can I assume you might also be charged with handling the private affairs surrounding the mayor’s and the commissioner’s offices?”
Reynolds flushed slightly, then joined in the laughter following Jax’s astute conclusion.
“You’ve outed me, Commander. In the trade, and not always behind my back, I’m known as the ‘Big Guys’ flack.’ ”
Paul Davis raised his glass to Reynolds and said to Jax, “And it’s a damn good thing we have him, Jax. The press in this town is all over us, sneakin’ their noses under the tent like the vermin they are. Always lookin’ for a piece of shit to smear us with. I swear to God, they get off shootin’ their dick spit anytime they can muddy up the poleeze. The hint of a scandal, and they’re flyin’ high.” He added with a disgusted snort, “Thank God we got Frank. He can shoot the groin gravy with the best of ’em.”
Letting the laughter settle, Jax shook his head thoughtfully but didn’t try hide the twinkle in his eyes. Reaching for the bottle of Glenmorangie in the middle of the table and pouring himself a healthy amount, he raised his glass to the ruddy-cheeked man. “Uh, thank you for elucidating me, Paul, on Frank’s mission. I must say I’d almost forgotten your uncanny ability to frame any conversation with, shall we say, ‘interesting’ expressions.”
Once again, laughter ricocheted around the table. At a break in the conversation, Lt. Jensen spoke up. “Just so you know, Commander, the VCU can use all the press relations we can get.” He added grimly, “That is, given that we have the Enchantress in our midst.” He was quiet for a moment as if considering if he should continue. Apparently thinking that he had a receptive audience, he said with a groan, “In case you haven’t heard, Commander, the press is gaga over Sergeant Moreau. Christ, they’ve made her into a heroine. In their perverted view, Viviana Moreau can do no wrong.”
Jax allowed himself to seem surprised. “And that is a problem, Lieutenant? I would think that any good press you can get is all to the good.”
Jensen frowned and said scathingly, “Yeah, but it only encourages her. Makes Viviana more incorrigible, if possible. Even harder to control.”
Breaking into the conversation, Chief McElroy said with a shrug and a slight smile, “I dunno, Lieutenant, I would think out of all of us, you would know that no one can ‘control’ your wayward sergeant.” He added with a pleasant smile, “And frankly, why would we want to? Face it, that little hellion has brought more attention to the good things that the department does than even Frank here can manufacture.”
Jensen’s expression hardened, and he said caustically, “That’s because you don’t have to work with her on a daily basis, Chief. Try being in her shadow ninety percent of the time and the other ten percent being blamed for not keeping a tight enough rein on her.”
“Ah c’mon, Travis. You know you’re just smarting because Captain Michels blamed you
for letting Viv drag us into the Belize mess.” O’Reilly turned to Jax. “Don’t know if you heard about our latest fiasco, Commander. Given what happened, it turned out okay although we all coulda been killed, especially Vivi.”
Jensen interjected fiercely, “And whose fault would that have been, Detective?”
O’Reilly shrugged, his lips tipping up in a sly grin. “I dunno, Lieutenant, maybe her squad leader who couldn’t rein her in? Who, for some reason, went along with her crazy plan?”
Seeing the dissention between the two men and wanting to get to the bottom of it, Jax stepped into the fray, pretending he didn’t know what had happened. “That’s interesting, gentlemen.” He nodded at McElroy and said, “I understood from Mac that you all went through a challenging mission but that in the end the Morales cartel took a body blow.”
Jensen barked, “No thanks to Sergeant Moreau.” He added bitterly, “But as usual, the press hailed her as a hero.”
Mac raised an eyebrow at Jax’s questioning look, but Frank Reynolds responded before the chief could.
“I’m not surprised that you find Sergeant Moreau challenging to work with, Travis. But, on balance, as a declared flack, I appreciate good press for the department whenever and however we can get it. Which is not to say that I don’t sympathize with you.” He turned to Jax and said smoothly, “Not to alarm you, Commander Hughes, but in case your special ops buddies Paul and Mac haven’t told you, they are expecting you to do what none of us have been able to do, including your tough-old-bird predecessor, Captain Oscar Michels.”
Jax looked around the group, then asked with a grin, “And what, may I ask, is that?”
Paul Davis broke in gruffly before Frank Reynolds could answer. “That is takin’ charge of the most challenging little ass you’ve ever run into.” He added with a salacious grin, “Who I might add has the hottest ass any of us has ever lusted after.”
After thanking the group for the informative lunch and for Mayor Simpson’s arranging a festive bash to introduce Jax to what Reynolds called the “must-know” makers and shakers in the community, Jax headed back to the precinct. He refused Jensen’s offer of a ride, indicating he had his own car, not wanting to appear as though he had favorites among the officers he would be commanding. Musing over the things he’d learned at the supposedly casual luncheon, Jax concluded that it had been a very useful meeting. Paul Davis was right about a number of things, including the salubrious effect of alcohol. Particularly on uptight assholes like Travis Jensen. Clearly, Viviana’s lieutenant had wanted Jax to know what he was in for and ensure that Jax understood just how unmanageable Sergeant Moreau was.
Jax hummed as he punched the keyless starter in his Alpha Romeo Giulia and the powerful engine roared to life. He smiled to himself, knowing that he could have told Lt. Jensen and the rest of the men at the table that he knew more about Sergeant Moreau’s ass than any of them could hope to know. And, he realized with a guilty start, how determined he was that none of them would ever be privy to the secrets he and he alone knew.
Chapter 3
Viviana dug her fingertips into the corded muscles on her neck, wincing at the pain her strong fingers elicited. With an agonized snort, she knew how unlikely it was that she would get to her masseuse today, no matter how much she needed it. The wiry Chinese man’s manipulative torture, euphemistically called reflexology, was one of the few things that could break through Viviana’s wire-tight muscles. Li Wang’s fierce ministrations, pounding a leather bag in the gym for an hour or more, and best of all, a challenging ten-mile trail run were the ways that Viviana kept from giving in to her stressful life.
Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to do any of the three until tonight, Viviana gave in to the source of her anguish. Not that she wasn’t always stressed out, but what had happened today had plunged her into what came damn close to dragging her under. Even now, hours later, she was still castigating herself. How could she have been so stupid? So spineless? How could she have let him “guide” her into his office in front of the whole damn squad, with his hand on her back, no less? Making it clear to her and every goddamn person in the room that he could control her.
Viviana groaned, sure that he had felt her shiver when he put his hand on her back. She couldn’t help it. It was as though he’d stroked a live wire across her bare skin. But he hadn’t. He’d merely put his hand on her and held it there as if he had a right to touch her, and sappy woman that she was, she’d reacted. Admitting how angry she was with him and with herself, she swore. Goddamn him and goddamn her. She should have knocked his hand off and found an excuse not to go with him. But the situation was too public, and, she admitted, he was too powerful for her to resist him.
At that moment, most of the guys came barreling into the squad room, reminding Viviana that she hadn’t gone to lunch. She snorted. Like she could eat anything, the way her stomach was swirling. It was for damn sure that whatever she might have tried to eat would have gotten yanked into the roiling mass of nerves that had her begging for relief. Besides, it was a certainty that no matter which of her colleagues she happened to eat with, the topic would have been the new commander. God, she didn’t know which would be worse, the men or the women. The men were gazing at him as gooey-eyed as the women were. Jesus God, even Madge Peterson, her best and frankly only woman friend among the officers, looked like she might swoon as though having met David Beckham or Jamie Dornan in the flesh.
As everyone was settling noisily at their desks, Jax walked in. Viviana noted that he didn’t have to say a damn thing. Just walking into the room with that commanding air of his caused the room to come to attention. He acknowledged the silence with a smile and gracious nod.
“Thank you.” He glanced around the room and then said, “Good, it appears that everyone is here. I wanted to continue the conversation we began this morning. While we’re getting to know one another, it’s important that you know the kind of operation I intend to run. Most of you worked with Captain Michels for some time. It was my pleasure to meet with the former commander. He is quite an ‘interesting’ man.” At the titters and outright guffaws from around the room, Jax grinned. “While I can assure you that my language isn’t as colorful as his, I do run a tight ship, and it’s best you know my goals and expectations.”
Viviana watched her colleagues practically orgasming over the accomplished man striding across the front of the room. The fact that he clearly knew the effect he was having on the awestruck group was more than she could stand. Unable to sit for another moment, Viviana jumped to her feet. Unfortunately she slammed her desk drawer harder than she’d intended, and everyone turned to look her way. Certain that her face was bright red, she grabbed her regulation Glock 19 and shoved it into her holster. Mumbling something about having another appointment, she strode to the doorway and for added emphasis, slammed the door behind her.
Jax didn’t bother to hide his frown, although he quickly took control of the surprised group who were sharing shocked glances at their superstar’s behavior. He caught Lieutenant Jensen’s “I warned you” expression and Mick O’Reilly’s wink and acknowledged them both with a pleasant smile. Glancing at his watch, he said, “I plan to have a daily squad-wide meeting either the first thing in the morning or after lunch. These meetings will be short and primarily an opportunity for me to bring all of you up to date on my plans.” He allowed a smile to quirk his lips and said as if in explanation for the interruption, “Know that going forward, I’ll post the time we will meet so that everyone can clear their calendar and attend.”
Twenty minutes later Jax concluded his update, indicating that he wanted everyone to have a detailed list of the assignments they were working on his desk in the morning. He added, “I will be scheduling private meetings with each of you so that I can better understand your goals and confirm that you understand mine.” He smiled at the group and without asking for or taking any questions, said, “Thank you all for coming. I look forward to seeing your assignment sheets
no later than 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.”
Stopping to confirm with his top staff that they planned to attend the mayor’s bash, Jax strode to his office and closed the door firmly behind him. He worked steadily at his desk for the next several hours, keeping an eye out for the renegade detective. Not exactly sure what he was going to do if she didn’t return, he was gratified when he saw the blonde ponytail flash by his windowed office. Seeing her march over to her desk and yank out a pile of folders, it was clear to him that she intended to leave as quickly as she’d come. He also saw, to his amazement, that she was wearing a skimpy tank and what looked like running shorts that showed off her long, toned legs, among other critical parts. It was, to say the least, an inappropriate costume for a senior officer in the official squad room. He was certain it was but one more example of her raised middle finger confirming that the confrontational sergeant did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how she wanted. Jax expelled a hard sigh, knowing that he needed to get control of her now or he likely never would.
Opening the door of his office, he stood in the doorway, not surprised that most of the men still at their desks looked over at him and then at her. She must have seen the expressions on the faces of her fellow officers, because she glanced his way. Meeting his gaze, she flushed, then reached for the folders on her desk, obviously preparing to leave.
His firm voice carried across the now silent room. “I’m glad you’re back, Sergeant Moreau.” Nodding to his office, he said, “I’d like to speak with you. Please come in my office.”
Viviana’s face flushed, then she pressed her lips together and said flippantly, “Sorry, I’m in a rush. I’m don’t have time right now.”
He pinned her with a narrowed gaze and said quietly, “Make time.”
When she still hesitated, Jax motioned with his hand to his office and didn’t bother to couch his order. “My office, Sergeant. Now.”