Blind Fury (18 page)

Jesus, he wanted her again. Couldn’t imagine ever
not
wanting her.

But how could he expect more if he was still holding back? She didn’t need to know everything, just the key parts. As he warmed to the idea, his shoulders relaxed, the tension he’d been carrying around for days slowly draining away.

There was risk in telling her. Risk that she would hate him for what he had to say. Risk that she would pull away. But he lived for risk, didn’t he? Thrived on it.

He was starting to think that she would be in danger whether she knew the truth or not. Someone had decided she and Mick were a problem. Jenna ought to know why. Or at least the important elements of it. Then they could figure out how to move forward together.

In the early morning glow she looked like an angel, her pale hair spread over his arm, those alluring freckles contrasting against her nose and cheeks like a negative of stars in the night sky. His chest squeezed in fear as he felt the perfect moment slipping from his grasp.
 

Afraid to break the spell, he held her until she awoke an hour later. When she finally opened her eyes, he kissed her neck and smoothed his palm along her arm. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Mm hmm.” She turned to face him, tucking her arms against her chest and pulling the sheet up to her neck.

He kissed her softly. She returned the kiss, but pulled away quickly and stared at his chest. What was that all about?

“Mick.”

Was there a note of regret in her voice?
Please, no
. Before he could lose his nerve, he took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He ached to smooth her hair away from her face, tilt up her chin, and lose himself in her soft lips, but he needed to get this over with. Keeping his hand firmly planted on her hip so he wouldn’t scare her off, he waited until she looked at him. “I think you’re right. You deserve to know what happened to Rob.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and something he didn’t understand flashed across her face. If he didn’t know better he would have called it guilt. Maybe she felt bad about badgering him for so long. Maybe it was unease or fear of the unknown. Maybe after all of their fighting, she was actually afraid of what he had to say.

“Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, clutching the sheet tighter to her body.

He didn’t want to break contact with her, but he couldn’t talk about something this serious while lying down. He rolled onto his back and sat up, covering his lap with the sheet and resting his forearms on his bent knees. She followed suit, wrapping the comforter over her shoulders.

“I still can’t give you details about the firefight, okay? That part isn’t relevant to what’s going on anyway.” He glanced at her to catch her nod of understanding before continuing. She’d probably agree to anything to keep him talking. “There was a point when we needed everyone to stop shooting.

“Rob and I were going up and down the line shouting at them to stop. I had to jump up on Colin’s truck to get his attention. Rob did the same thing with Smitty.” Adrenaline made him jittery, as if he were back in that hellhole, the deafening sound of gunfire exploding around him.

Understanding began to dawn on Jenna’s face even before he finished his story, but he pushed forward, his throat tight. “Smitty turned his fifty-cal and shot Rob in the chest.” He held her shocked gaze, helpless to stop the tears that trailed down her cheeks.

“I couldn’t save him. I tried, but…” He couldn’t finish that thought. She didn’t need to know how bad it had been. “I swear to God it never occurred to me that it might be anything but an accident until this whole smuggling thing came to light.”

“Now I understand why you were so mad at Smitty last night,” she whispered. “I almost wish I hadn’t tried to stop you from hurting him.”

She covered her mouth then, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Cursing himself for bringing her more pain—even though she’d asked for it—he pulled her back against his chest, wrapping the bedspread around her so she wouldn’t feel like he was taking advantage of her nakedness. She burrowed into his arms.

He held her tightly and buried his face in her hair, pretending he wasn’t taking as much comfort as he was giving. “I’m so sorry, honey. I would have given anything to bring him back to you.” He would have given up this time with her, even his own sorry life.

She hugged him close while she cried, but then tugged out of his arms. “Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Are you going to be all right?” Stupid question, but he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want her to leave the bed. He wanted to rock her beneath him until they both forgot—even if only briefly—about murder and death and the threats that lurked beyond these walls.

Instead, she nodded and scrambled from the bed without making eye contact. “I need a shower.”

 
He considered following her, but when the door locked with a loud
click
, he rolled back onto his pillow. How could he blame her? She’d just discovered that her brother had been shot by one of his own teammates, possibly intentionally murdered, and Mick still had sex on the brain.

Twenty minutes later, Jenna came out in jeans and a crew-neck shirt, all covered up. Her damp hair curled around her scrubbed face, giving her a young, innocent look. “Your turn,” she said, heading for the door to the living room without looking at him.

“Hey.” He leaped from the bed, not even bothering to throw on his boxers, and snagged her hand. “Are we okay?”
 

She met his gaze briefly before looking away, a slight frown drawing her lips down.

“Are you having second thoughts?”
No, no, no, no
. He’d denied himself for too damn long to give her up after one night. “If this is about Rob—“

“It’s not.”

If not Rob, then what? Did she think he was using her for sex? “Baby, you’re beautiful and sexy, and last night was amazing. You’re not a one-night stand to me, Jenna. You have to know that.” He leaned in to kiss her, to reassure both of them, but she stepped back.

Oh, shit.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up?” she said. “I’ll make breakfast.”

He watched in shock as she shut the door behind her. What the hell was going on?

He took the fastest shower on record and dressed with Superman speed, the smell of something frying drawing a rumble from his stomach.

Jenna was laying out ham and egg sandwiches when he walked out of the bedroom. “Do you want coffee?” she asked.

“Not until we talk,” he said, blocking her way out of the horseshoe-shaped kitchen.

She tried to squeeze past him, but he caught her waist in his hands. She instantly went limp, eyes down, hands at her sides. Not quite the response he’d expected from the wild woman who’d shared his bed last night.

“Jenna, you’re scaring me here. I just had one of the best nights of my life and I could have sworn you enjoyed yourself too.” At least his words got a blush out of her. That was a good start. “Why are you running away now?”

“I’m sorry.” She stared at her feet. “I…I enjoyed last night too. I don’t regret it, but I think we should sleep in separate beds again.”

Her words hit him like a shot to the chest. Was this how it felt to be used? “Can you at least tell me why you’re having this sudden change of heart?”

Hugging her arms around herself, she chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds and then looked up him. “If we hadn’t slept together, would you have still told me about Smitty?”

He jerked back, mind reeling. Would he have? “I don’t know. Last night changed things.” He met her gaze. “At least for me.”

“Is that what you were holding out for? I’ve been hounding you for days, and all it took was a roll in the sack?” She gave a derisive snort. “If I’d known it was going to be that easy, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

“It wasn’t like that.” His heart skipped painfully. How could he make her see? “I wasn’t planning on telling you, but when we…took things to the next level, holding back didn’t feel right.” He shifted toward her, tantalized by her familiar scent, aching to touch her.

“But you’re still not telling me everything. There has to be more to the story or you wouldn’t have felt so strongly about keeping it from me.”

Good God, seriously? He stifled a sigh. “For your safety and mine, there will always be things I can’t tell you. I can’t talk about some of the places Rob and I went as PJs, and I can’t give you more details than I already have about the day he died. That’s just the way it is.”

She cast her eyes down. “I’m not sure I can live with that.”

Adrenaline rushed through him. He wanted to shake her. Why the hell had she jumped into bed with him then?
Before
he’d told her about Smitty? If he didn’t know her better he would have thought she’d set the whole thing up to get the truth out of him.

He stilled as he processed that thought. Could it be? What had she said?
If I’d known it was going to be that easy, I wouldn’t have waited so long.
Had she played him?

But, no, this was Jenna. She might have grown tired enough of her straight-arrow reputation to seduce him, but she’d never be so underhanded. More likely she’d just realized what he’d known all along: He wasn’t good enough for her. He could never be the sane, stable kind of man she deserved.

And so he’d never again watch her come apart in his arms while he filled her to the hilt. He’d finally had a taste of the one woman who could convince him to stick around, and she didn’t want him.

Karma really was a bitch.

Pressing back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, Jenna watched Mick stalk into his room. Her plan had worked too well—particularly since she’d decided she couldn’t go through with it. Their lovemaking had been too special to tarnish like that.

Too bad she was lying to
him
now. About her feelings, her motives for sleeping with him, and her reasons for not sleeping with him again. What she hadn’t planned on was how hurt he’d be. If she didn’t know better, she might believe that he actually wanted more than sex from her.

More likely he was just hoping for a few more days of it. Mick was nothing if not a smooth talker.

He cared. She knew that. And he’d been such a generous lover. Even more so than she’d expected. But she would never be dumb enough to get her hopes up for more than that, and she couldn’t fall into bed with him again. Not after she’d taken advantage of him.

Her fists clenched as she replayed the confrontation in the bar. If she’d known last night that Smitty was responsible for Rob’s death, she might have attacked him herself. How had Mick managed to hold himself back?

Was Smitty involved in the smuggling ring, or had it been nothing more than an accident, what they called
friendly fire
? The words ricocheted through her brain like bullets. Friendly. Fire. Her breath stalled, and her heart squeezed. Could there be a dumber name for it? As if shots from your own side were something you’d welcome. Like a hug.

A few rounds to the chest were the least friendly thing she could imagine.

If Smitty had killed Rob on purpose, how would they ever prove it? Mick hadn’t told her everything about that day; he’d admitted that much. He’d also said that the rest of the story wasn’t relevant, but how could she be sure?

If only she knew what he was so worried about.

Argh
. This whole ordeal was driving her mad. She dialed Tara at work to see if she could meet for lunch. Talking things out with her friend always made her feel better. Mick would just have to get over tracking her everywhere she went. He could wait in the car or something.

“Tara Fujimoto’s desk,” an unfamiliar woman’s voice answered.

“Uh, I’m calling for Tara. Is she there?”

“No, this is Wanda. Tara called in sick today.”

Ah, Wicked Wanda of the West. “Oh. It must be serious,” Jenna said. It wasn’t like Tara to ditch work, and she almost never took sick days, even when she was really ill.

“Undoubtedly,” the woman said with obvious scorn. “If you want to leave a message, I’ll take it, otherwise I have work to do.”

“Uh, no thanks.”

Jenna ended the call with a sense of unease. Tara was the most dependable person she knew when it came to work. She may have fallen head over heels for Colin, but Jenna still couldn’t imagine her friend missing work for anything but an emergency. And if it
was
an emergency, it was surprising that she hadn’t called. She tried Tara’s home and cell phones, but both went to voicemail. Had she passed out, was she too weak to get to the phone? If she had a stomach bug, it could quickly turn dangerous if she became dehydrated.

Mick’s concern over Colin’s character came back to her and her gut clenched. What if Tara wasn’t sick at all?
 

“Call me back as soon as you can,” Jenna told the machine. “I’m worried about you.”

She knocked on Mick’s bedroom door. She was wary about facing him, but what choice did she have?

“What?” came the muffled response.

“Mick, I think something’s wrong. I…” She took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

He opened the door and her belly did a little flip.

“What is it?”

After last night, just looking at him had the power to take her breath away. He was sexy as sin in a black Dos Equis T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet. God, why did life have to be so complicated? She wanted to go back to bed with him, where she’d felt safe, desirable, and cherished.

She was shocked to notice that his eyes were red, as if he’d been rubbing them. Could he really be that upset? Maybe he was thinking about Rob and feeling guilty for sleeping with her. That was much easier to believe than that
she
might be the cause for his distress.

“Do you have a way to reach Colin?”

His head jerked back. “Di Ferio?”

She nodded. “Tara called in sick today, but I can’t reach her by phone. It’s not like her to skip work, even when she’s feeling awful.” She held his gaze, silently pleading with him to take her seriously. “So, either she’s gravely ill or something else is going on. Either way, I need to make sure she’s okay.”