He opened his mouth to speak. By the time he did, Jenny had pulled out a second one—a big one that was obviously for a man.
“And I found this one for Morgan. It’s huge! But so is he. Do you think he’ll like it? Senora Maria had five men’s sweaters, but I loved the dusty gold, earthy browns and red and orange woven in this one. It looks like autumn to me. Does it to you? Do you really think he’ll like it?”
Matt laughed. “Are you interested in my answer or are you going to keep asking me a hundred questions first?”
Grinning, Jenny said, “Guilty. I’m sorry, Matt. I’m just so excited!”
“I can see that.” Matt liked her angelic smile, and her shining blue eyes, which showed every nuance of what lay in her generous heart. Her mouth, soft and parted, beckoned to him. Hands off, Matt reminded himself, groaning inwardly. Jenny wasn’t someone to stalk and capture. No, she was a butterfly, a beautiful creature not to be caught and tamed. One could only watch it flit freely about on the air currents, moving at will from flower to flower. Such was Jenny. His butterfly.
“Well?” she pressed eagerly. “What do you think? Will Morgan and Laura like them?”
He picked up the sweaters, turned them around and studied them thoroughly. As he handed them back to Jenny, who neatly folded them, he said, “I think they’ll like them. Laura, from what I can tell, wears bright colors. And Morgan wears a lot of brown and gold.”
Sighing dramatically, Jenny collapsed with relief. “Whew! I was so worried, Matt. I felt so sorry for Señora Maria and her son, Daniel. They’re so wretchedly poor.” Her voice became strained. “You should see their house. It’s nothing more than a few pieces of corrugated tin all jury-rigged together with wire. They sleep on a dirt floor. A dirt floor! Can you imagine? I can’t. She was so kind. She made me coca leaf tea and offered me something to eat, but I just couldn’t, Matt. I didn’t want to take food out of their mouths. It was awful. I just never realized…. We’re so spoiled. So rich, in comparison. My heart just bled for her. And she works all day and all night for her family. She showed me the alpaca yarn that she’s dyed, for the sweaters she knits. She makes money washing people’s clothes down at that smaller river that flows into the Urubamba, on the steep bank just below her hut. She works so hard! I swear, I’ll never complain again when I’ve got to work a few extra hours at the office. I’ll always remember Maria and her working conditions.”
“You’re such a softy, Jenny Wright.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. When she gave him a rueful look, Matt saw the tears in her eyes she fought to keep back. She’d tucked her lower lip between her teeth in an effort to stem them. “I like the fact you’re so deeply touched by these people.”
Sniffing, she shrugged and absorbed his warm, unexpected touch. Matt’s face was open. He was, once again, accessible to her. The darkness beneath his eyes had dissolved and he looked incredibly well rested despite the long flight they’d recently endured. “How could anyone not be touched by it, Matt? The Peruvian people are so friendly and kind. I just love them!”
“And so,” he said, mirth in his tone as he forced himself to take his hand off her shoulder, “you bought a gazillion sweaters to help her out, to put food in her family’s mouth. Right?”
She gazed in awe at him. “How did you know?”
With a shake of his head, Matt said in a rasping tone, “Jenny, you have a heart as big as Montana.” Looking at the sweaters, he gave her a wry grin. “So…did you buy me one, too?”
Chapter Five
For once in her life, Jenny decided, she was going to display courage in the face of the unknown. As she showered in their bathroom and got ready for bed after the wonderful meal she’d shared with Matt at the India Feliz Restaurant earlier, she made a promise not to act like a nervous Nellie about sharing the same bed with him. He’d made it very clear he was going to be a gentleman. Besides, he wouldn’t have any interest in her. She was a ’fraidy cat, someone he probably had a heck of a time putting up with, under the circumstances. His other merc partners in the past, all women, weren’t anything like her, Jenny was sure. But tonight she would show courage whether she felt it or not.
Patting herself off with the thick, yellow, terry-cloth bath towel after her shower, Jenny worked on getting her courage in place. Matt had already taken his shower and put on his pajamas. But the idea of him going to bed naked was provocative. She felt heat sweep into her face. Why did he have to be so ruggedly handsome? And he was so sensitive to her needs. He’d made a big deal over the alpaca sweater she’d bought him. The pleasure that wreathed his face had made her heart pound momentarily. The crooked, little-boy smile that came with the discovery that she’d bought him a gift had made Jenny feel warm and good all over. She was getting to know the real Matt Davis, not just the heroic military man and mercenary she’d seen a few times at Perseus headquarters. Jenny liked having him as her partner, but wasn’t sure what her feelings meant.
Between the challenges she faced tomorrow morning when Matt and she would be flown by one of the women Apache pilots to the secret Black Jaguar Base to begin the interviews, and the idea of sleeping in the same bed with Matt Davis tonight, Jenny was feeling pretty stressed.
“Come on, ’fraidy cat, get your stuff in order,” she told herself sternly under her breath as she shimmied into her pale green, silk nightgown. Running her fingers through her damp hair, Jenny peeked her head cautiously out the door. Thank goodness Matt had shut off the overhead light. He must have sensed her trepidation. The glow of soft sulphur lighting in the plaza below filtered into the room from behind the curtains.
Hurrying across the carpeted expanse, she saw that Matt had pulled back the sheet and light blanket on her half of the bed. Her heart began to pound. He was lying with his back toward her, facing the wall. The pillow was bunched beneath his head and jammed into position by his arm and hand. Gulping, she slid into the bed as quietly as possible. Lying down, she hugged her edge of the bed and brought the sheet up to her shoulders. It was fairly warm in the room. Matt had told Jenny that the temperature never got below fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit at any time because they were in the jungle.
“Good night, Matt,” she whispered off-key. Her heart thudded with anticipation. With desire.
“See you in the morning, Jenny. Get a good night’s sleep.”
His deep voice soothed her anxiety. Releasing a pent-up sigh, she closed her eyes. Below, in the plaza, she could hear the kids still playing, even though it was 9:00 p.m. Maria had told her that most parents made their children come home about that time, so she knew the plaza would soon quiet down for the night.
She could hear the deep, continuous roar of the mighty Urubamba River, which ran between Machu Picchu and Agua Caliente. Somehow the wild, rushing sound soothed her, too.
Very soon, Jenny fell into an exhausted asleep.
Matt jerked awake. What was that sound? He half turned onto his back from his side. His arm struck something warm and soft. Instantly, he froze. Again he heard that mewing sound. Blinking his eyes several times, he moved quietly so that he was on his left side, facing Jenny. The sound was coming from her. Frowning, he eased himself up on his elbow.
In the plaza light filtering around the edges of the curtains, he saw that she lay on her side, facing him, and that she was literally scrunched up in a fetal position. Her expression was tense. Her face muscles were taut, her soft mouth a tortured line. Gazing at her hands, which were opening and closing restlessly against her pillow, he heard her whimper again. The sounds were soft, but heartrending. Was she having a nightmare? Matt fought the urge to reach out and slide his fingers through the unruly gold hair that framed her face. She moved fractiously. One moment she was on her back, her mouth working. Then she flung herself on her left side. Again, a whimper.
He remembered what she had told him about her life as a child, growing up. Jenny had never had any real security, no real sense of safety, he realized. Because she had ADD, she had be
en labeled a problem child to boot. He could imagine her several sets of foster parents shuffling her off to another home because she was simply too much to handle. Shaking his head, Matt felt anger. Didn’t they realize that foisting her off on someone else was sending her a loud, clear message that she wasn’t lovable? That she wasn’t worth sticking it out with, or worthy of the help she needed to adjust to life and its demands? The thread of anger wound through his gut and into his heart.
Jenny flung herself onto her back again. And then rolled over on her right side.
Was this how she slept every night? Fitfully? Restlessly? Matt shook his head. She looked so vulnerable and helpless in that green silk nightgown, the boat neck decorated with bits of white lace. Lying back down, his hands behind his head, he sighed. What he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and hold her. He knew he could give her that security, that sense of safety she wanted. Every emotion was so obvious on her face. Matt knew his touch could soothe her. His heart expanded with the need to touch her.
Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. No. He couldn’t get involved with a woman again. His ex-wife had burned him badly enough to make him swear off women forever. And yet this small, feisty woman with sun-gold hair and eyes as big as a Montana sky made him long for a mate once more. Was he crazy? He was, no doubt.
He had no idea if Jenny would be well rested tomorrow morning or not. But he had to be. Rolling over on his side, his back to her, he shut his eyes and ordered himself to go to sleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough and a whole new set of demands would be placed on them. He wasn’t worried for himself, but was concerned for Jenny. He wanted her to be successful on this mission because it would raise her self-esteem and give her a lot more confidence in herself. No one wanted to see her be a winner at this more than Matt. No one.
Jenny sat with Matt in the dining room of Gringo Bill’s the next morning. It was 6:00 a.m. Rosemary, the cook, had brought out their bacon and cheese omelettes, sourdough toast and coffee. Today Jenny was better dressed for the climate, in a white long-sleeved blouse with the cuffs rolled up to her elbows, a sensible set of khaki cotton slacks and her hiking boots. She wore a pair of gold-and-pearl earrings in her dainty earlobes and her hair was tamed into a semblance of order despite the humidity. Outside, the sunlight was nowhere to be seen. Instead, white, wispy clouds crawled in slow, continuous motion around the black lava mountain of Machu Picchu.
As he dug into his omelette, Matt asked, “Did you sleep well last night?”
Coloring, Jenny slathered strawberry jam on her toast. “Okay, I guess. Why?” Matt looked so handsome in his dark green cotton, short-sleeved shirt, his tan chinos and brown hiking boots. She had a tough time not staring and getting lost in his warm gray eyes.
“You were pretty restless last night.”
“I was?” She gave him a pained look. “Oh, no…don’t tell me I kept you awake?”
He heard the consternation in her whisper. Shaking his head, he smiled slightly. “I woke up once, was all. I went right back to sleep, though.” He examined her face from across the small wooden table where they sat. Around them were many other tourists and hikers getting ready to take the bus up to the Incan ruins built atop Machu Picchu.
Touching her cheek, Jenny muttered, “I’m really sorry, Matt. I know how tired you were.”
Reaching out, he caught her hand, telling himself as he made intimate contact with her that they should act like a married couple in public to keep their cover intact. Squeezing her fingers, he said, “Hey, I’m more concerned about you. You’ve got a few shadows under your eyes this morning.”
Absorbing his warm, strong touch, she reluctantly released his hand. It was the last thing Jenny wanted to do. Fumbling with the toast, she chewed off an edge of it. Swallowing, she said, “I feel rested. I’m sure I’m sleep deprived sometimes, though.”
“You were whimpering in your sleep. Were you having bad dreams?”
Bowing her head, she chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Oh…that…”
He saw anguish in her fleeting expression. “Your past?” he asked.
Shrugging, Jenny dug nervously into the omelette. She knew she had to eat heartily because of the stress of the interviews to come, even if she had lost her appetite. “Kind of…”
“Want to talk about it? I’ve got a pretty good set of ears on me if you do.”
Just the way he said it broke Jenny’s reserve. Ordinarily, she never spoke of her childhood. She wanted to forget about it, but it followed her around like an old and sometimes troublesome friend. Waving her hands nervously, she said, “I’m afraid of the dark…my ’fraidy cat stuff….”
Frowning, Matt said, “There was light coming in around the curtains.”
“Not enough for me.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “I’m a mess, Matt. I really am. At my apartment in Philipsburg, I have a night-light that I keep on. It helps me sleep better.”
“Then,” he growled, “I’ll find one here in Agua Caliente and we’ll put it in our room. For this mission, you need to get your sleep.”
She stared across the table at him. Jenny saw the banked anger in his eyes and understood he wasn’t angry at her. Grateful, she whispered unsteadily, “You are such a white knight for me…. I know I’m a pain in the butt with all my eccentricities—”
“No, you aren’t, darlin’.” Matt hesitated. Where had that come from? He saw Jenny’s eyes widen at the endearment.
Heat tunneled into her face and she instantly fixed her gaze on her plate. She couldn’t stand the look Matt gave her. It was a protective, loving look, if she read it correctly. Why would he worry about her? She was nothing to him. She was a nobody. Yet, in her heart, she knew that he did genuinely care, and that rattled her. He’d called her “darlin’.”
Scowling, Matt ate several bites of his breakfast, the silence at the table pregnant and tension-filled. Jenny had reacted strongly to his endearment. Because she didn’t like him? Considered it sexual harassment? Sometimes he got foot-in-mouth disease. Judging from the redness of her cheeks, she was shocked by it. Damn.
Clearing her throat, she said in a low tone, “I remember, when I was growing up, having a stuffed skunk I just loved. I called her Sarah. I don’t remember when I got her…only that she’d been with me through all the homes I’d lived in. When I took her to bed with me at night, I felt like she protected me. I started getting scared of the dark when I was sent to another foster home, and my new foster mother didn’t want me to have the lamp on in my bedroom. She said I needed to grow up. That a kid my age no longer needed a light or a stuffed toy.”
“How old were you when this happened?”
“Seven…I think.” Jenny smiled gamely. “My foster mom was right, of course, but something little and scared deep down inside me just refused to grow up or believe her.”
“Is that when you started all this tossing and turning?” He stifled his anger and kept it out of his voice, although he was feeling it sear him inwardly.
“Yes. After my lamp was taken away, and Sarah was gone, I started getting nightmares. You know, dumb stuff like monsters hiding under my bed to get me…hiding in the closet….” Jenny forced herself to eat the toast and jam. The moody look in Matt’s eyes made her aware he was upset. “When I got sent to my next foster family, I kept the lamp on in my room, but my foster father would always turn it off and tell me that electricity was expensive, and having a light on all night cost him too much money. By the time I was fifteen, I discovered night-lights, bought one and began to get a reasonable amount of sleep at night.” Her smile widened. “I forgot to bring it with me on this trip. My fault.”
“I’ll see what I can do about finding one for you sometime today, after we get back,” Matt muttered, his brow wrinkled. Finishing his food, he wiped his mouth on the paper napkin and glanced over at her. Jenny looked eager to go.
“Ready?” he asked, rising.
“More than ready,” she whispered excitedly, leaping to her feet. In rising qu
ickly, she tipped the chair over backward, and it fell with a bang to the wooden floor. The patrons in the dining room all looked up and stopped talking. All eyes centered on her standing over the fallen chair. Jenny grimaced. “I’m such a klutz!” she whispered apologetically as she turned and picked it up.
Matt’s heart went out to her. He realized that the stares only exacerbated Jenny’s shyness and vulnerability. Coming around the table, he slid his hand into hers and gave her a smile that said everything was going to be all right. How easy it was to pretend he was married to her, he realized in that moment, as hope leaped into her eyes. He felt her shyly return the squeeze of his fingers.
“Let’s catch that flight,” he murmured.
Jenny gaped as they were taken in a speeding golf cart through a dark, lava tube tunnel from the mining operation side of the mountain to the U.S. Army top secret Black Jaguar base. They had been flown to the area in a civilian helicopter piloted by one of the Black Jaguar personnel, Warrant Officer Jessica Merril. What struck Jenny about this woman pilot was that she, too, had short blond hair—with a bright red streak dyed in it. In Jenny’s opinion, it made her look like a wild woman. Merril was outgoing, confident and vibrant. The half-hour flight past the famous Machu Picchu architectural ruins and deep into the jungle was made delightful by the wisecracking army pilot. Jenny didn’t know when she’d laughed so much or so long. Indeed, if Jessica mirrored the other female pilots here at this secret base, Jenny was looking forward to meeting these brave and heroic women. Matt had already informed her that at first, the base was made up of only women personnel. But now that was changing and about ten percent of the base was male.
As the golf cart hummed along under the command of the driver, an army sergeant near Jenny’s own age, Jenny looked around in awe, especially when they left the tunnel and entered a huge, deep cavern.
Woman of Innocence Page 6