Sweet Revenge

by Christy Reece

  His thoughts as bleak as the landscape before him, he watched a large clump of melting snow crash from a tree branch to the ground. Before yesterday, he’d been her trainer. Gathering any intel she might be keeping from them went with the territory. But that was before he’d slept with her, before she’d trusted him with her body. As lovers, they might share confidences that wouldn’t ordinarily be given. If he used their new relationship to find out what she was hiding, he’d go a thousand miles past being a bastard. But if he didn’t use any and all means to get the information and Jamie ended up getting killed? Hell, there was no choice. He’d take her hatred any day over having something happen to her.

  His voice grim, he answered, “I’ll get it.”

  “Think you’ll be able to convince her not to try anything by herself?”

  “Yeah, I can do that, too.” Dylan closed his phone, the heaviness in his chest caused by something more than the impending dread of doing what he had to do to get the truth. Seven days from today, he’d be leaving Jamie for good.

  Jamie stood at the starting line and stretched out her muscles. Energized and ready to go, she could barely wait till Dylan finished clearing the course. Her entire being felt wired, almost electrified. The difference between yesterday and now was amazing. Maybe she’d needed a fall through the ice to wake her up, but she knew that wasn’t the cause for her change. That reason was in front of her, his expression once again grim and unwelcoming.

  She hadn’t asked him about the future. The moment she’d walked out and seen that forbidding look back on his face, she’d chickened out, but damned if she’d pretend that last night hadn’t happened. It had been an amazing experience and one she wanted to repeat frequently. So instead, she’d changed tactics, and so far, it was working. She had thrown Dylan so completely off balance, he had no idea how to respond.

  Kissing him this morning had been an irresistible impulse … the expression on his face had been priceless. The discovery was unbelievably exciting. Dylan might continue his gruff, austere front, but Jamie knew that’s all it was—a façade. They would never go back to the way things were before … she wouldn’t let them. From now on, every time he made a terse or aggravating comment, she would do what she’d done this morning. She would kiss that grim mouth and know a secret no one else knew.

  “You ready?”

  She nodded. At his “Go!” she shot off, leaping over hurdles, running through tires, swinging on the rope that had defeated her yesterday. Everything she did felt fabulous and new, as if she had a different body, a new spirit. Her focus total, she soared over the last hurdle, landed on the other side, and turned to Dylan, waiting for what she knew would be her best time yet.

  “Eighty-nine seconds. You beat your record by nine seconds.”

  Shouting her glee, she ran toward Dylan, who had no choice but to open his arms as she flung herself at him. As his arms closed around her, she hugged him hard. Once again she knew she’d thrown him for a loop, but keeping him off-kilter was even more exciting than beating her time. Suddenly she felt as if there was nothing she couldn’t do.

  Though he held her tight, he didn’t return the hug. That was okay with her. This was something he would get used to. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, she dropped her arms, and Dylan dropped his quickly, too.

  “Eighty-nine seconds isn’t a record, you know.”

  She grinned. “For me it is. Didn’t you say that’s the only thing that counts? That I’m only in competition with myself?”

  Clearly not appreciating her using his words against him, he scowled at her. “Do it again.”

  She nodded. “Gladly.” And with that, she went back to the starting point and waited for his signal. If he thought he could put her in a bad mood or get her off her game, he was wrong. She’d show him.

  At his shout of “Go!” she was off again.

  Though he kept his focus on her form, Dylan couldn’t help but move his gaze up from time to time and watch her face. He’d never seen her so focused or sure of herself. She was running the course like a pro. And dammit, if she threw herself at him or kissed him one more time, he was going to … Dylan sighed. He was going to kiss her back.

  He should’ve talked to her this morning at breakfast. He was her trainer; she was his trainee. They couldn’t have this kind of intimate relationship; it would throw everything out of balance. He ignored the little voice inside him that said she was performing much better than she had when they’d been snarling at each other. “Inappropriate” seemed an old-fashioned term, but it was the only one he could come up with. It was totally inappropriate for her to fling herself at him or tease him. He had to put a stop to it.

  He clicked the watch as soon as she landed from her last jump. Hell. “One second faster than last time. What’s gotten into you?”

  Giving him a sultry, confident look, she walked slowly toward him. Dylan’s heart pounded and his body tightened, going stone hard. She stopped inches from him and said softly, “What’s gotten into me? I would think that’s an obvious answer.”

  He wanted to respond with sexy banter, laugh at her obvious sexual innuendo. Hell, he wanted to pull her against him and feast upon that sweetly curving mouth. If he did that, he was done for. There was no going back. If they didn’t return to their old, distant relationship, he’d never be able to do what had to be done. She was already going to hate him. Damned if he’d give her even more reasons.

  “What the hell do you think is going on here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jamie, yesterday can’t happen again. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  There was only a small flicker of hurt in her eyes before that chin, delicate but oh so damned stubborn, rose. “Excuse me, but I don’t believe I’ve stripped off my clothes and jumped on your sexy body, have I?”

  “No, but—”

  “But nothing. Dylan, if you can’t handle a little harmless flirting, that’s your problem. Not mine.”

  And with those words, she turned and walked to the truck. Not looking back, she said, “I’m going to get some water. Want some?”

  Arousal pounded through him with every step she took. He should’ve known that Jamie’s smart mouth and sass would see her through. She’d just turned the tables and made it all about him and his hang-ups. Problem was, he wasn’t so sure she wasn’t right.

  His fists came at her hard and fast. Jamie blocked each one with her arms, whirled, and threw a sidekick, knocking Dylan in the chest. He scooted out of the way and came at her again.

  With each successive move, he grew more aggressive, and though he got in a few hits, she was able to deflect the majority of them.

  Their training had gotten tougher in the last couple of days. If he’d been grim-faced before, now he was granite hard. No amount of banter, teasing, or even the occasional unexpected kiss moved him. He didn’t push her away … he just didn’t respond.

  No way could she deny the hurt. What she had hoped was something special to him had turned out to be what she’d feared—nothing but a crazy, impulsive act that he was determined not to repeat. When they weren’t training, he kept himself separate from her. And though they still sat together at mealtimes, there was almost no talking. When she did ask a question or even tried to start an argument, she got grunts and the occasional one-word answer.

  “Let’s call it a day.”

  She jerked at the news. “It’s only a little after five.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Were there ever any more chilling words than those? Every time someone said that, it was never “We need to talk because you just won the lottery” or “You just got a big raise.” It was always, always bad news.

  “What?”

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “No, if you have something to say, I’d just as soon you say it right now.”

  That damn brow arched again. “Come upstairs.” And with that, he turned and headed to the stairway.

  She was tempt
ed to stay put just to spite him, but since she wanted to know what it was they needed to talk about, she had no choice. Which, of course, he knew.

  Following him up the stairs, she watched him head to the living room and stand in front of the fireplace. Since it’d gotten much warmer outside, Dylan had stopped building a fire. Now the area looked cold and uninviting—much like the demeanor of the dark, brooding man who stood in front of it.

  Perched on the edge of a chair, she looked expectantly up at him, waiting for him to deliver what she already knew was going to be disturbing news.

  “Reddington’s resuming business.”

  This was his news? Of all the things he could have told her, this was the least surprising. She had known that Reddington would get back to business at some point. This news didn’t change her plans at all. Yes, she hated that hapless victims were being bartered like cattle, but her focus was on the endgame: putting the man behind bars forever.

  She shrugged. “We knew it was coming.”

  “I thought you’d be more upset.”

  “If there was something I could do about it right now, I would. There’s not.”

  “But you do still intend to try to do something, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed, as if to pierce through her resistance. “You told Noah that you’d reveal your plans once you went through training. He’s kept his end of the bargain. Don’t you think it’s time you did, too?”

  “Is my training over?”

  “Almost.”

  “Almost is not the same as over.”

  “And you promise you’ll go to Noah and tell him everything?”

  “I’m not a liar, Dylan. I’ll keep my end of the bargain.”

  “Have you ever thought that if you’d told him, he would’ve been able to get to Reddington sooner?”

  “There’s no information I could give you that would’ve helped LCR get to him any faster, so don’t try to put me on a guilt trip.”

  His gaze grew even harder and more determined; Jamie stifled a shiver, in equal parts unbelievably aroused and totally intimidated.

  “Whatever your plan is, you’re going to fail.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “It takes months, sometimes a year, to perfect an undercover disguise. You’re not only naïve, you’re going to end up getting yourself killed. Just what the hell is that going to do to McKenna? Don’t you know it would destroy her to lose you again?”

  Oh yeah, he was using the big guns now. No more “You’re not ready” or “Don’t you feel guilty?” pesky little shots that dented but didn’t penetrate her armor. Thinking about McKenna in pain was a surefire way to weaken her defenses.

  “If there’s anyone who understands and supports me, it’s McKenna.”

  “Just because she understands doesn’t mean she wants you to put yourself in danger.”

  “Noah’s already used the McKenna card on me. It didn’t work.”

  “You’ll never be prepared to do what needs to be done.”

  “You’re repeating yourself. Besides, you don’t even know what my plan is, so don’t tell me I can’t do it.” She gave him her own hard stare. “What’s this really about?”

  He was silent for so long, she didn’t think he was ever going to answer. Finally, he said, “I wanted you to know about Reddington.” He shrugged. “I thought it would upset you more than it did.”

  “I hate that he’s back in business, but it’s no surprise.”

  “We’re going after him, Jamie. You do realize that, don’t you? And we will get what we need to bring him down.”

  “Good. I’m all for it. Whatever it takes, I’m for doing it.”

  Shit. Dylan didn’t know who he was angrier with, Jamie or himself. He’d wasted five damn days without doing what was expected of him: getting the information she was hiding and convincing her that she wasn’t qualified to carry out whatever harebrained scheme she had concocted. Instead, he’d trained her as if he wasn’t leaving soon, as if they had all the time in the world. To make matters worse, he’d been a jerk for those five days—an attitude that wasn’t exactly conducive to encouraging her to share her secrets.

  Dylan knew he had many flaws, but until now, procrastination had never been one of them. That had to stop; he could no longer put off the inevitable. What he was about to do was something he’d never forgive himself for and would most certainly make Jamie hate him, but she’d given him no choice.

  He drew a silent breath and stood. “Why don’t you take a hot shower? We worked a little harder today than usual, so your muscles might be sore. I’m going to start dinner.”

  “That’s it? That was your ‘We need to talk’ conversation?”

  He shrugged. “That’s it.”

  Dylan saw confusion mixed with relief as she turned and disappeared into her bedroom. She’d thought he was going to tell her something devastating. After all she’d been through in her life, getting crushing news was probably something she expected far more than getting good news. And, dammit, that was one of the biggest reasons he wanted to protect her. She’d been through so much. Why was she putting herself at risk when she didn’t have to?

  His mind resolute, Dylan headed to the kitchen. If nothing else, he would make tonight as good for her as possible. She’d hate him afterward, but he could damn well make certain that until the hatred came, she would know nothing but pleasure.

  thirteen

  Jamie took her time showering and dressing, her thoughts on the disturbing conversation. After months of knowing her course, her decision about Reddington certain and unyielding, Dylan’s disapproval and dire warnings made her question herself again—something she was sure he’d be pleased to know.

  While in that dank, dark room of Reddington’s, she had overheard many discussions. Not everything she’d heard had concerned his business dealings. Much of it had been of a personal nature, especially the conversations with his wife. Those discussions had seemed mundane and uninteresting, but she had listened to as many as she could. And she was so glad she had, because one very detailed conversation with his wife had given her exactly what she had needed.

  After her rescue, she had been confident that Reddington would be put away and had pursued every legal avenue to ensure that this happened. Had talked to the prosecutor’s office until she was hoarse and limp with exhaustion, detailing her experience. Nothing had worked. Reddington had come away looking like an aggrieved do-gooder, and she’d seemed like an ungrateful bitch and a raving lunatic.

  She’d been depleted and on the verge of just giving up when a specific conversation he’d had with his wife had popped into her head. And the idea had been born. She had the qualifications and she had the knowledge; all she needed was a plan.

  In Paris, when she’d been recovering and getting to know her sister again, things had coalesced in her mind. McKenna hadn’t known it, but she’d given Jamie the information she’d been lacking.

  Once it was confirmed that no charges would stick, Jamie had put that plan into place. And as soon as she finished her training, it would be time to put that plan into action.

  Standing in front of the mirror, she took in her appearance. Her favorite lavender shirt deepened the blue of her eyes and her jeans hugged her body emphasizing her curves. She’d also taken special care with her hair, washing it with her lemon-scented shampoo and then blowing it dry until it looked like a bright, gleaming waterfall. Putting on a lot of makeup would have been too obvious, but she did add some subtle color to her lips and darken her lashes with mascara.

  She took a step back and nodded her satisfaction. For the last few days, Dylan had treated her as if she were an asexual entity he could barely tolerate. Raising her chin to its customary defiant level and veiling the hurt of his rejection, Jamie turned to go out the door. She’d just see about that.

  She stopped in the middle of the living room, startled to find a cozy fire blazing in the fireplace, a bottle of Shiraz and two wineg
lasses placed on the coffee table, along with a tray of cheese, crackers, and black olives.

  “Since we don’t have a lot of fresh food, putting together appetizers was a little difficult.”

  Dylan leaned against the doorjamb at the entrance to the kitchen. He had apparently been very busy. Not only had he showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a charcoal-gray shirt; the fragrances emanating from the kitchen told her he had a delicious dinner well under way.

  She gestured at the wine and the cheese tray. “This looks wonderful.”

  He came toward her and then stopped to pick up the wine bottle. He poured two glasses and handed her one. Taking the other glass, he clinked it against hers and then took a long swallow.

  Eyeing him from beneath her lashes, Jamie sipped the wine, savoring the variety of flavors on her tongue. She had set out to seduce Dylan, and he’d turned the tables on her.

  “Why the change of heart?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  She gestured at the cozy scene. “You’re obviously expecting more tonight than just a discussion of successful martial arts moves or how to spot a predator.”

  He took another swallow of wine and set his glass down. “Just tired of the tension between us. This is my less than subtle way of hoping we can put an end to it.”

  “And that’s it?”

  He moved close, within inches of her, and said softly, “Do you want something more?”

  Jamie almost groaned; the heat in his eyes was melting her insides. Before she could answer, Dylan covered her mouth with his, swallowing the “yes” she was about to give.

  The mouth she’d dreamed of nightly covered hers in a hot, devouring kiss that poured heat throughout her body. With a groan of surrender, she raised up on her toes and sank deeper into him.

  Releasing her, Dylan took the glass she still held and set it down. Then, with a deliberateness that stole her breath, he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor. Jamie reached out a hand and pressed her fingers to his chest, the heat of his body almost singeing her skin. When she would have moved in to taste him, he put his hands on her shoulders to stop her. “What?”