20
JOSS RUBBED LOTION into her hands and listened to the sound of the television coming from the other room where Bax sat on the bed. He’d tuned in to a soccer game. Or football, she corrected herself. After all, she was in Europe.
“I hadn’t realized you were a sports fan,” she commented idly, leaning her head out of the bathroom.
“I’m not.”
She watched him a moment. It was the first night since they’d been in Stockholm that they hadn’t either been working or completely wrapped up in each other. Granted, they’d made an afternoon of it, but he’d definitely been acting a little strange since they’d been back. It made her edgy and unsettled, even more than her own feelings did.
She didn’t want to be unsettled. She’d been unsettled for the past seven years. Enough, already. It was time for all of it to stop. It was time to build a life, a home, a career.
And she very much wanted Bax to be a part of it.
Nerves skittered in her belly. She’d never been vulnerable in a relationship before. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but you couldn’t fake feelings. She wasn’t faking the feelings now. If things ended, she would be the one getting hurt.
It gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had a choice, of course, you always had a choice. Do nothing, let him go, perhaps, and in time—maybe an aeon or two—the feelings would die away. Or maybe Bax would come to her and she wouldn’t even have to say anything.
But doing nothing and waiting for things to happen was the coward’s way. It had never been hers. She had to say something, pure and simple. She had to take her chance. And if she pancaked, at least she’d know she’d tried.
Joss stared at herself in the mirror. It would be okay, she told herself silently, remembering the way it had felt out on the archipelago, remembering the way it had felt in Amsterdam, where he’d come for her. It wasn’t just her imagination. It was real. He cared for her, she knew he did.
She just needed to tell him how she felt.
Swallowing, she shook her hair back and walked out of the bathroom to sit on the bed in her silky robe. Unconsciously, she twisted her fingers together. “We had a good day today.”
“I guess.”
She cursed herself for making small talk instead of telling him what was on her mind. “We’ve been working pretty well together, haven’t we?”
“Block the freaking ball,” Bax barked at the goalie on television.
Joss stared at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, fine,” he said shortly, staring at the screen.
She nibbled on the inside of her lip and took a breath. “You know, I was thinking. This detecting stuff is kind of fun. I could get used to this.”
“Oh, come on,” he said disgustedly in response to a play, and then flicked a glance at her. “Don’t get too excited. This isn’t a real case. We’re not investigating anything, we’re just trying to figure out how to swindle Silverhielm out of something that’s not his.”
“Sure.” She nodded. “Real investigating must keep you busy.”
Bax just watched the soccer game tensely.
“Have you ever thought about getting someone to help you?” Her voice was elaborately casual. “You know, someone who could do the office stuff and maybe help you with some of the leg work? Someone you could train?”
Bax picked up the remote and punched at the button to mute the sound. “Joss, what’s this all about?” he asked abruptly.
She blinked. “Well…”
“You’ve obviously got something to say. Say it.”
Nervous, they were both nervous over tomorrow. This had to be said, though. She couldn’t wait.
Now’s your chance, she told herself silently. Do it. “I want to learn to become an investigator,” she blurted. “I could work for you, doing whatever you needed me to. Maybe just secretarial stuff, or phone calls, street canvassing when you need to talk with a lot of sources. Whatever you want.” With every word, she talked faster. “You know, learn how the business works from the ground up. Take away the dull stuff so you’ll be more efficient.”
For a long moment, he just watched her, some light of bewildered longing in his eyes. Everything would be okay, she wanted to tell him. She loved him. They could make it work. She moistened her lips and opened her mouth. “I—”
As though to ward off her words, he shook his head. “It’s a nice offer, Joss, but no. Thanks.”
“Wait a minute,” she began.
“I’ve told you before, I work alone.”
“You’re not on the case alone now, though,” she reminded him. “We’ve worked together just fine.”
“Have we? We were on a stakeout today and I spent half the afternoon focused on you instead of watching the island. That’s not what I call working.”
She stared at her hands and nodded her head as though to the beat of music only she could hear. Then she turned to him. “Okay, what’s going on, Bax?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on?”
“You’ve been acting strange ever since we got back. What got you so ticked off? So we fooled around on the job? Well, you were there, too,” she reminded him, an edge to her voice. “And you didn’t seem all that worried about it at the time. If you’re going to get ticked, get ticked at yourself as well as me.”
“It doesn’t work. Having you around is screwing things up.” He punched at the remote and turned the sound back up.
“So what was all that the other night about what a good job I was doing and how important I was? Or was that just a load of crap?”
His eyes skated off to the side. “Joss, you’re the client. Of course I’m going to tell you you’re doing a good job.” A muscle at the side of his jaw worked. “Reality is, if I were working alone, I’d probably have the stamp back by now.”
“Give me a break, Bax.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that it’s taken two of us to pull this off, working together. Together, remember that? And it’s been good, like it was this afternoon, until you got ticked off. Like it was in Amsterdam, and you came over there voluntarily, remember? That wasn’t about work, it was about us.”
“Amsterdam? Amsterdam was about taking care of you.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice wavered.
“I wasn’t going to leave you over there on your own. I came over to make sure you didn’t get in trouble.”
It sliced into her, wicked and unforgivable. “No. You came for me. You told me you did.”
“You thought what you wanted to think.”
“This isn’t really about me coming to work for you, is it?” she asked, her voice a little wobbly. “This is about us, period.”
“What ‘us’? There is no us. That was a game we were playing, remember? A role to fool Silverhielm? It was never supposed to fool us, too. We’re on the job and when it’s done, we’re done.”
It was a cold, hard verbal slap and it silenced her momentarily. She’d always been the one who ended relationships, she’d always been the one who walked away without being hurt. Now, she was the one sitting here with her heart sliced open and he was just staring at the television.
At first it was just pain, harsh and undiluted.
And then the pain flamed back into anger. “There is no us? You are so full of it, Bax. Who do you think you’re kidding with this, huh? You don’t want anything going forward? You don’t want us to see each other once this is over, fine, but don’t sit there and try to pretend that nothing’s happened here.” Her voice rose in fury. “Even if you can’t be honest with me, be honest with yourself.”
“I am being honest.”
“Oh yeah? What about this afternoon?” she demanded. “Not the sex, the other part. The part where we talked. The part where you told me things.”
Now he did turn and look at her. “That was a mistake,” he said bleakly. “I had no business telling you that stuff. I had no business spending the afternoon making
love to you instead of paying attention to the case.”
And because he had, he was trying to get as far from her as possible. It frustrated her, infuriated her and it hurt. Oh, it hurt. “What are you afraid of, getting close? You think because your father could never connect with you and your mom that you’re hardwired to be that way, too? You think that because you grew up a loner that that’s what you have to be your whole life?”
“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” he said angrily. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you love get hurt over and over again because they can’t stop needing someone. My mom spent her whole life trying to open up to him and getting shut down every time. I saw what needing him did to her. I watched what it did to me.”
“But that’s them, that’s not us. Let it go,” Joss pleaded, reaching a hand to his face. “I care about you. I want to build something with you.”
Bax jerked away and rose. “Sure. I’ve fallen for that one before, too. Her name was Stephanie.” The first woman he’d ever loved, the first woman who’d ever loved him back. But time had told the lie of that. “She wanted to be there for me, too.” He remembered staring into her beautiful face as she begged him to let her in. He’d done it, in incredulous wonder that everything could come together so easily, be the way it was supposed to be.
And he’d been so wrong.
Bax shook his head. “She wanted me to open up. And like a stupid schmuck, I did. And you know what? Surprise, suddenly I wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. I wasn’t the bulletproof tough guy. I was just a guy.”
“You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met.”
He smiled humorlessly. “Not to her, not after that. She didn’t really want to know me. No one ever really wants to know anybody. We’re all happier with our fantasies.”
“Bax,” Joss whispered. “What did she do to you?”
“Oh, dropped that little bombshell before she walked off with a guy she met in a bar one night when we were out for a drink. A couple of weeks after I’d asked her to move in with me. Doesn’t exactly make you want to get involved,” he said, tossing the words at her shocked face.
She struggled to take it all in. “She was a witch. It wasn’t about you, it was about her.”
“It doesn’t matter. Actually, she did me a favor. She taught me the most important lesson I ever learned—you can’t depend on anyone but yourself.”
“Just because one woman was an idiot doesn’t mean every woman is.” Impotent anger filled her words. “It doesn’t mean that I am.”
“And you telling me the same things she did doesn’t mean that you aren’t.”
“Can’t you trust me? Can’t you try?”
He wanted to, part of him suddenly wanted to very badly. But he couldn’t get there. It had been too hard, too long. “I believe you think you feel something for me, Joss, but it’s not love. It’s sex, it’s excitement, it’s danger. You want an answer to your life and you think I’m it.”
“That’s not true,” she shook her head blindly. “I care for you Bax. I love you.”
“You just think you do. You’re not in love with me, you’re in love with salvation.”
“I don’t need you to save me,” she flared. “I just need you to be with me.”
He hesitated. “Look, Joss, I can’t be your fantasy man and I can’t be your answer. We came into this knowing the score. Let’s keep it that way.”
“I’m not sixteen, Bax. I know what I feel.”
“And I know what I know. It’s over, Joss. We get the stamps back tomorrow and then we say goodbye.”
“We won’t have to,” she spoke, almost inaudibly. “You’ve already said the only goodbye that matters.”
21
THE DAY DAWNED gorgeous and clear with an exquisite sunrise over the water by the Royal Viking. Joss stood at the window and looked out toward Karl XII’s torg. She had no frame of reference for the misery she felt. She had never experienced it before. She’d had breakups born of anger and frustration, breakups fueled by incompatibility, breakups driven by lack of desire. Always, though, she’d felt a sense of relief after, a lightness at the idea of being on her own again.
Now, all she felt was despair.
Bax had become a necessary part of her world. Only two weeks had gone by since they’d first met and yet she felt that he’d always been there, that his presence made her days and nights complete in a way she hadn’t realized she’d needed.
And she had no idea what to do next.
They’d spent the night lying in the same bed. They might have been inches apart, but the reality was millions of times that distance. Eventually, Joss had dozed off into dreams in which everything was right again. She’d woken to find herself wrapped in Bax’s arms, and for a moment in the warmth and sleepy comfort, she’d forgotten that everything wasn’t all right, that everything was as wrong as it could be.
Her jolt into full wakefulness had woken Bax as well. With the light of dawn just beginning to slip through the windows, he’d risen to pull on his running clothes and leave, without a word. Without a backward glance.
And in the empty room, she’d risen to stand by the window and watch him run away from the hotel, as he was running away from her.
BAX LISTENED TO the thud of his feet and waited for the run to do its work. In the aftermath of his breakup with Stephanie, he’d logged enough miles that he’d run the D.C. marathon and finished in the top one hundred. Whenever his thoughts would start chasing themselves in circles, he’d lace on his shoes and hit the streets or the trails, driving himself relentlessly. Running was Bax’s escape, and that day should have been no different. Except it was.
He turned the corner by the Opera House and found himself on Fredsgatan, just down from Fredsgatan 12. And suddenly he was hit by memories of walking there with Joss in the gathering evening, her fingers tangled with his.
Bax shook his head and sped up. Block it out, block it out. He didn’t want to feel what he felt for Joss. There was no place in his life for letting another person in, for letting another person into his heart. For needing.
He knew what happened when you did that. He knew the danger.
His life was fine just as it was. So maybe it wasn’t filled with people, but he knew what he could depend on. He knew who he could depend on—himself. When you started depending on other people, you put yourself at risk. Some people liked that. For his part, he could skip it.
He sped up, feeling the good burn in his quads and calves. Concentrate on the body, concentrate on the pain there. Focus, focus, got to focus.
Because if he stopped concentrating on physical pain he’d have to start registering the way it had felt to see the mute anguish on Joss’s face the night before and that morning. And he’d have to start thinking about the loss he was going to feel when she was gone.
A SHOWER, clothes, coffee. The basics of life, the routine. If she clung to those, she’d get through this. She was strong enough, she knew it. She was tough enough.
And at the moment, there wasn’t anything else to do but keep on, so Joss sat in the café at Karl XII’s torg and held her coffee cup. She felt grainy and slow and out of sync with herself. More than ever before in her life she wanted to leave a place behind, but it simply wasn’t possible just then. Not when the meeting with Silverhielm loomed. Once it was over, she could run to ground and lick her wounds, but for now, she had to stay with Bax to maintain their cover. No matter how excruciating it was.
“Hey.”
She turned to see him behind her. He’d clearly just finished his run. His shirt was patchy with sweat, his unshaven chin, dark. He’d never looked better to her. But he wasn’t hers, not anymore.
Bax set down his coffee and sat at the little table. He looked at Joss, but his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. It made him look even more remote and impassive than ever. “How are you?”
“Fabulous. I can’t think when I’ve been better,” Joss said, her voice b
rittle and hard. “Gee, this is fun. We ought to do this more often.”
His jaw tightened briefly. “All right, dumb question. I’ll just get right to it.”
“Please do.”
“We need to talk about what happens tonight.”
“We finish the job. Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for?” Finish it and separate. So easy to say.
So difficult to do.
“Look, you’ve been waiting for this to be over, too. You can get back the one-penny Mauritius, close on what we came here to accomplish.”
“Sure. So we’ve talked about the plan. What’s your concern?” she asked, working to keep her voice as emotionless as his.
“You and me.”
For an instant, hope bloomed. “Go on.”
“Look, things are different now between us. You know it and I know it.”
“And what do you want to do about that?” What had he come to talk with her about? What did he want from her, for them?
“Nothing,” Bax said aloud. “It is what it is, but we can’t go to Silverhielm’s and let that show.”
“Oh,” Joss said tonelessly. He was talking about work. Of course. Foolish of her to expect anything else. “What do you want from me?”
“I want your assurance that when we go there tonight, we’ll act like everything is normal, everything is like it was.”
“Even though it’s not.” She searched his face for signs of regret, but his expression was so controlled she couldn’t see anything at all.
“Exactly.”
“So, why the big show? All couples have fights and break up. Why pretend?”
“Because tonight of all nights, we don’t want them wondering about anything. Everything needs to go smoothly. I just wanted to be sure that you can carry it off.”
It was like he was trying to pull a response from her, trying to get her to plead with him one more time. “What, are you afraid I’m going to wail and weep and gnash my teeth?” Joss snapped, undone. “I can blow it off just as easily as you can, Bax. You’re not as unforgettable as you think you are.”
He stared at her for a moment and his mouth tightened. “I never thought I was,” he said softly.
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