The Choice (14 page)

Who you surround yourself with is a measure of who you are and who you want to be, he’d told J.T.

Who are you, Cullinane?

Jittery, Jillian arose quietly. Padding across the thick charcoal carpet, she scanned the room for her swimsuit but couldn’t see it. She thought he’d stripped it from her somewhere close to the side of the bed where he lay sleeping. She wasn’t remotely ready to talk to him yet, so she left it, instead heading for the landing to recover the robe, chagrined as she remembered the challenge, the glee with which she’d stripped for him. As she bent to grasp the robe, her gaze was caught by an odd glow coming from a room she hadn’t noticed last night.

But then, she’d had eyes for nothing but him last night. Mingled shame and regret battled with memories of stunning glory as she started to don the robe, then suddenly she remembered and looked inside the neckline, fingers trembling.

Queen B.

Oh, God. Jillian shivered, queasy about putting it on, yet eager for the contact, however ephemeral, with her sister. With her duty, her responsibility. The reason she was here.

She fastened the sash, reminded of what she should not have forgotten in the blazing glory of last night.

Belinda. Belinda’s broken mother Loretta. 

Hafner.

Oh, Jesus. She had to get out of this room before he awakened and she was forced to deal with what she’d done. How she’d been rocked to her soul.

Passing the doorway, she took a quick glance in the room—

And froze in her tracks.

A bank of monitors like the security room downstairs, but with one major difference. Except for the one screen trained on the pool, all the screens had something in common.

Pictures of her.

With the halting shuffle of a person in shock, she drew closer. Her in the gym...her in the gazebo...her with Alice’s children...

Her lying in bed.

A multitude of images caught on video, most of the hours of her day, all on hidden cameras, Jillian under surveillance.

She knew the compound was heavily monitored; a brief tour of the security room downstairs had revealed that the system relied upon surveillance inside and out, though not every inch of ground was covered.

But only these rooms and Hafner’s were fully exempt.

She’d expected to be caught on cameras at odd times as she went about her duties, but this was different. This was her bedroom. This was surveillance of
her.
These were not isolated instances, this was Jillian under a microscope.

And this was the man she’d given herself to last night.

She scanned the console, shaking with fury. He had no right...what else had he captured? In the shower? While she was dressing? Her fingers scrambled over the controls, trying to decipher how to delete these recordings, how to find out what else was on them.

And then a chill shot through her whole body.

Who else had watched her? With the crash of a fist, she hammered at switches blindly, fear of what she’d done making her clumsy.

“It’s not what you think,” his voice sounded from the door.

Her head shot up. “No?” She gestured at the bank of screens. “Then just what is this? What else have you watched? Why did you need to strip me last night? You’ve already seen it all!” Temper raged, and she could barely hear his words.

“I never watched you naked. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“Fair? What do you know of fair? Are there cameras in your rooms?” she raged. “I
sleep
naked,” she yelled, pointing at that screen. “You’re lying!”

He shook his head, his expression grim. “I only turned on the one in your room after you were asleep. I never...” He glanced away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You stripped my body naked last night, Cullinane,” she warned, her voice low and angry. “But this—this—” Her hand swept out, helpless, shaking. “This is a rape.”

“Jillian...” He started toward her.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again,” she growled. Stabbing a finger back toward the screens, she kept her voice low and deadly. “Don’t ever look in my bedroom again.” She shoved past him, then turned back. “And if you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

Shaking with anger, she ran from his room.

* * *

Jillian emerged from the shower much later, her skin red from scrubbing, her heart raw and sore. She couldn’t shake the memory of the sorrow on his face, couldn’t make it square with those pictures on the screen.

Couldn’t forget the way he’d taunted, challenged, teased her to heights she’d never dreamed of scaling, shown her glories she’d never imagined.

Held her heart in his hand.

And watched her when she’d thought herself alone. Stolen pieces of her that anyone could see, moments of her life she hadn’t chosen to share. Watched her asleep, vulnerable and naked...and laid her bare for anyone to view, just another cable porn show.

I’ve got to get out of here before there’s nothing left of me. He’s already stolen my privacy, my control...I can’t let him take my vengeance, too.

She had to find Hafner and seduce him, get him away, out from under Cullinane’s nose. She’d gather up what she couldn’t bear to leave behind and take it with her, so that once Hafner was dead, she could disappear.

She’d already lost more than she could afford. Cullinane would have moments of her that she could never retrieve, but he’d have something much more valuable.

He’d have the last shreds of her faith in herself.

She’d come to this place armed with confidence, with cocksure bluster, with a mission to accomplish and the skills to do it. She’d learned hard lessons here, lessons about life throwing you curve balls, about deception and lying silver eyes, about the folly of casting away honor and following your heart.

And now, with faith in herself at its lowest ebb, all she had left was her duty to a dead sister she’d failed to protect.

Somewhere she had to find it within herself to seduce a man she despised, to close off her humanity long enough to snuff out his life with as little concern as he’d shown Belinda.
No one important,
that’s what Hafner had called her.

Well, she’d been important to Loretta and to Jillian herself. It had taken Jillian too long to realize that loving someone meant loving the whole person; her contempt for Belinda’s choices had isolated Belinda with a man with no conscience, a man who’d found her life inconvenient for his continued success.

Jillian had let Belinda down in the most critical hours of her life. She wouldn’t let her down now.

She didn’t know how much Hafner would remember of last night; she prayed he didn’t know she’d been with Cullinane. But no matter what obstacles she had to overcome, it was time to get this over—and get out.

Dressing with care in a skin-tight red spandex mini-dress sure to get Hafner’s attention, long red dangles at her ears, Jillian left her room.

Now she’d be the predator, in search of her prey.

* * *

Cullinane stepped into his shower, sweat-stained and weary after his run. Exercise hadn’t helped, hadn’t exorcised the memory of her haunted face.

Hafner had only made her afraid.

Cullinane had violated her soul.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t explain why he’d kept those videos, why he’d needed to see her, tried to understand her, to unravel the mystery that was robbing him of sleep. He’d never meant to hurt her, had, in fact, had his own sense of honor about what he would and would not watch.

He’d gotten what he wanted, though. The distraction was gone. When he’d watched her in the night, he’d wondered how to achieve the necessary distance to keep from compromising the operation.

He should be happy.

The operation was safe.

But memories of Jillian would torment him forever: eyes dark with longing, gasping in delight. Standing in triumph at the top of the stairs, taunting him with fire in her eyes. Demanding more and crying out when it came.

Coming apart in his arms, flying away with a piece of him in her grip.

He’d never felt complete before, and now he knew how truly alone he was. For brief, shining hours he’d touched something he’d never expected to feel, known the balm of real communion, found a home for his weary heart.

But now it was all ashes, the taste bitter on his tongue, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back.

Because duty called. And he had to answer.

He flipped the shower to cold and hissed at its sting. No point in mooning after what he couldn’t have forever. He’d been a fool to think he could have it at all.

He emerged and dried off roughly, composing his mask once more. He had plenty to accomplish, first on the list finding Hafner. Walking toward the phone, he avoided the room where he could have checked on his question. He couldn’t look at those monitors yet.

“Yes, sir?” Fred answered

“Where’s Hafner now?”

“Getting ready to leave.”

“Where’s he headed?”

“Just out driving, he said.”

“Who’s taking the assignment?”

“Jillian, sir.”

“Alone?” After last night?

“He said one guard was all he needed. Want me to ask again?”

“I’ll take care of it. Who else is available?”

“Tony, sir, but—”

“But what?”

“Jillian said she doesn’t need anyone else. I asked her if she was sure, you know, after last night and all, but she said they’ll do fine. They were laughing about it.”

Laughing about it? He shook his head, confused. 

“Sir? You want me to ask her again?”

“No,” he snapped. He had to think. “No. Let it go.” About to hang up, he jerked the receiver back. “How soon are they leaving?”

“They’re loading up the car now, sir. You need to talk to one of them?”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll be down later.” But it wasn’t all right; something was wrong. Instincts that had kept him alive for years were rustling. What could she be thinking? Why would she be alone with Hafner?

To hurt me? To get me back? Surely, however upset she’d been she’d know there could be nothing worse she could do to him.

But what did he really know about her, about how she thought? Despite the night’s magic, she still had secrets. She lied every time she answered to a name that wasn’t hers. But why would she put herself in close proximity to Hafner when he’d terrified her last night?

It could simply be her need to prove to herself that she wasn’t afraid. Doing so would be just like her. Afraid of fire? Stick your finger in the flames. Afraid of water? Dive in headfirst.

But he couldn’t stand to think of her alone with Hafner, even knowing he had no right to her himself. Dressing quickly, he strode to the monitors, switching to the camera that panned the garage.

Holy shit. What the hell was she doing going with Hafner, dressed like that? Why didn’t she just paste a sign on her chest that said
Take Me?
Maybe that was what she wanted. Maybe he didn’t understand her at all. Maybe moving from his bed to Hafner’s was exactly what she intended.

It was a rich revenge, but it would cost her more.

No, he couldn’t believe it, not of her. She might lie about who she was, but she was no whore. He couldn’t believe the woman who’d yielded to him with such sweetness had it in her to fall into Hafner’s arms.

Something was wrong here; something didn’t make sense.

He strapped on his weapon, grabbed his keys, and raced down the stairs.

* * *

“You want to drive, Klaus, or shall I?” Jillian managed a smile.

He arched one eyebrow. “Think you can make this trip less exciting than the last one?”

“Cullinane won’t be along, so we should be fine.” Even saying his name hurt, but she’d just have to get over it.

“You drive, then.”

She climbed in and started the engine. “Now just where is this fishing camp of yours?”

“Almost to Houma, fifty miles from here.”

“I picture a shack, all but falling down.” Pulling out of the compound gate, she felt at once freer and more vulnerable.
You’ve trained for this, Jillian. Last night was an exception—you’re more than his match. He’s not in shape like Cullinane.

Hafner chuckled. “Many of them are, but I prefer the creature comforts.”

“You wouldn’t prefer to go somewhere in the city to be alone?” Glancing across at him, she held back a shudder at the hunger in his gaze.

“The camp will give us more privacy.”

“But your men know where it is.”

“I didn’t tell them where we’re going.”

Good. It would buy her time to get away after she killed him and set things up to look like an attack. She glanced in the mirror, intent upon making sure they weren’t followed.

“I must say, you look fantastic, Jillian. That dress...”

She smiled with misleading sweetness. “I’m glad you like it.”

They drove along in silence for a few moments while Jillian checked the rearview mirror at intervals. So far, so good.

“About last night...” he began.

How much did he remember? “Yes?”

“I believe I owe you an apology, even though you are gracious enough to laugh it off. I’m afraid I drank a little too much. If I offended you, I’m sorry.”

“No big deal. Drinking can do that.” Though she’d be a long time forgetting the look of madness in his eyes or the callous disregard for her sister.

But soon it would be over, and she’d be gone.

Could she really kill a man in cold blood? Even Hafner?

She had to. It was all she could do for Belinda. No matter how she ached to walk away, to return to some semblance of normal life...she had to get justice for her sister to save Loretta.

Hafner reached in his pocket and drew out that same knife, popping out the blade, wicked and curved and deadly. Whistling under his breath, he used it to clean his nails.

Jillian stared at it out of the corner of her eye, trying to imagine it against Belinda’s tender skin, the contrast obscene, that the connection could affect him so little. Slice a woman, clean your nails—same difference to him.

A horn blared, and she straightened, realizing she’d drifted over the line.