Sheila's Passion (4 page)

He was beginning to wonder what he had left behind as he chased the adrenaline dream. What had he given up all these years? What had he missed that he couldn’t figure out the feeling Sheila made him feel? And what was he letting slip through his fingers now?

From that first night he and Sheila had come together, he’d felt he had finally found a cure to the restlessness that plagued him. He’d finally felt as though he belonged somewhere. Or to someone.

There was more to her than he’d had a chance to get to know, and more that swirled in that heart of hers than she allowed him to glimpse. Those secrets drew him. They made him hungrier by the day to know her better, to touch her more, to hold her tighter.

And he wanted to see it all.

Shockingly.

Casey had never wanted to delve into a woman’s heart and soul at any other time. Not since the day his fiancée had cleaned out his apartment and his bank account when she’d heard he’d been wounded in action.

She hadn’t stuck around to see how badly he had been hurt or cared if he had needed her. She sure as hell hadn’t cared that he might need his furniture, his cash, hell, his bed, when he returned home.

Nope, she’d just cashed in everything she could and found greener pastures. His best friend’s pasture.

That had been over seven years ago, nearly eight.

Sheila was different, though. From the moment he’d stared into those mysterious violet eyes, he’d known she was more different than any woman he’d ever touched. So unique he was determined to keep her as his own.

There was something about her eyes, something about the need he glimpsed in them whenever she gazed back at him that drew him. There was a warmth, a fire he longed for. All he wanted was to hold Sheila through the night.

Every night.

He rubbed at his jaw, a frown working over his brow again as he wondered what had happened and why she had run on him. But even more, what was that edge of hurt he’d glimpsed in her gaze?

How had he managed to hurt her when all he’d wanted to do was make love to her until they both collapsed?

Until she didn’t have the strength, the will, or the desire to leave his arms again.

THREE

“Sheila, did we get those reports in from team two yet?” Captain Douglas Rutledge stepped from his office, his craggy face creased into a frown as he stared at her with that affronted, irritated look of a man who knows he should have something and knew it wasn’t there.

His hair was mussed, his clothes slept in, and it looked like his socks were mismatched again.

That was her father.

Broody, impatient, and expecting perfection though he knew he wasn’t going to receive it. At least, he said he knew, she thought as she watched him fondly.

“Not yet, Captain,” she assured him using the title as her mother had before her. “I told you I’d let you know the minute they arrive.”

Sheila hadn’t called him Dad since the day her mother told her how he enjoyed the rare times she called him captain instead.

She turned back to the computer and the completion of the final electronic copy from the past week’s reports. He was her parent and she loved him, but he was as demanding as any military man could be.

Besides, things had been slow in the bars and nightclubs where the operatives under her father’s command worked. He wasn’t going to be happy about it either. Captain Rutledge took his job seriously and demanded results.

Reaching up to scratch at his graying head, he glared at her again, drawing her attention.

She glared right back at him. “I can’t snap my fingers and get it, Captain. You’re just going to have to wait for it, no matter how long it takes.”

His brows lifted in surprise as she barely stopped herself from sighing in irritation. Dammit, he knew her too well, and snapping back at him never failed to start an inquisition. And that was something she really didn’t need right now.

He stood staring at her, both hands buried in the pockets of his dark slacks as he continued to regard her silently. Questioningly. And she knew that look. He expected an explanation, now.

Sheila considered simply going back to the reports she was putting together. Sometimes, the best thing to do was to ignore him. She wondered if that would work today as it had in the past.

“Might as well tell me what the problem is,” he grunted. “You’ve been out of sorts for three days and I’m tired of being your little whipping boy.”

Whipping boy? Sometimes her father tended to exaggerate.

“You’re not a whipping boy,” she muttered. “You’re a nosy old man.”

She had been very, very careful not to be out of sorts. She would be damned if she would let Casey hear that she was in any way less than a terrific mood. And her father wasn’t above asking everyone they knew what was wrong with her.

She simply couldn’t afford it.

“Yes you have. I want to know why.” Her father strode across the small office to lean against the side of her desk as he stared down at her inquisitively. He wanted an answer and she knew by the look on his face he was determined to get one.

The glare was gone, and that was an indication that the captain was now her father, and he was concerned. She could deny the captain, but it was harder to deny her father.

Besides, she didn’t want him to be concerned. When he worried, he poked his nose into her life and made her crazy.

“You have reports to go over, Captain,” she reminded him, barely restraining a roll of her eyes. “Not a daughter to raise. You already completed that particular mission admirably.”

“You look just like your mother when you say that.” Nostalgia entered his tone, his expression. “She would try to lie to me just like that too.”

A wealth of love filled his voice as he spoke, as well as that ever present shadow of pain he carried. He had loved her mother, even after her death. So much so that he had never considered remarrying. He didn’t even date.

“Mom never lied to you.” Sheila shook her head, barely restraining her smile. Because he was right. Her mother was very good at evasion, though, not lying. And her father had always known when she was evading.

“There’s no difference between an evasion and a lie,” he warned her as though reading her thoughts. He simply knew her that well.

“Of course there is.” She laughed back at him. “When you don’t want to lie to someone, you evade. It’s perfectly acceptable.” That way they couldn’t get angry or accuse you of deceit.

His brow arched. “So you’re not lying, you’re evading?”

He had no idea.

“You’re funny.” This time, she did roll her eyes. “I’m not evading either,” she promised him. “I’m trying to get this mountain of paperwork finished.”

“No, dear child, you’re flat-out lying.”

And at that point, she had to drop her eyes, because he was right, she was lying through her teeth and she hated it.

“My business,” she told him firmly.

He watched her for long, silent moments.

“Hmm, that means it’s a man,” he guessed.

“It means it’s my business and I prefer not discuss it with you or anyone else, Captain,” she informed him.

Her father could be like a dog with a bone. She never appreciated being the bone. It was highly uncomfortable.

He glared at her again. “Then that means it’s a man I’d know.”

There was the displeasure. How the hell had he known?

Duh! He knew everyone she knew. There was no way to be wrong.

“No, Dad, it means someone you know might know him, and I’d prefer he be unaware of the fact that I’m displeased with him.”

Not exactly a lie, not exactly the truth either.

At that point, he frowned again in confusion. “But dear, how else is your young man supposed to make the situation right and win your heart if he doesn’t know why you’re upset?”

Sheila leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and stared back at him firmly. “Dad, I don’t want him to make anything right and I definitely don’t want anyone else to tell him if he’s done something to upset me. I prefer to take care of these things myself.”

Her father reached up and scratched at his weathered cheek, and Sheila could see that he had no idea what to make of his daughter. He often lamented that she refused to fall in love and marry fast to suit him, because he had always insisted on probing into her dates’ lives.

It wasn’t a refusal to love, she knew how to love, it was simply a refusal to beg or to play the games she watched so many other women play. Those relationships rarely worked, she had found. It had left her friends and acquaintances with broken hearts and disillusioned lives. If a woman had to beg, plead, or hint at a need for commitment from a man, then she didn’t need that man.

She didn’t want that. She wanted to be like her mother. She wanted to marry once and marry a man that she not only loved, but one that loved her just as much. She didn’t want to guilt Casey into loving her. Where would the satisfaction be in that?

Yet Casey had been convinced she was playing games instead.

“So, who is he?” her father asked, his tone indicating a demand for an answer.

Sheila shook her head. “Sorry, Dad, but I don’t need your help in this. I’ll take care of it myself. I’m rather good at that now.”

She had only been young and dumb once.

His frown deepened as concern filled his eyes. “I promise to say nothing to anyone,” he promised her. A huge concession from him.

“Sorry, Dad, it’s not going to happen.” She shook her head slowly as amusement tugged at her lips. “I know better than to tell you. You like trying to fix my life too much. And I don’t need this fixed.” At least, not by her father. There was nothing her father could do anyway, except make the situation worse.

He was a busybody. A loving one. A caring one. He would never do anything to hurt her. But she knew him too well. If he knew who her lover was, he would no doubt make it an order that Casey find a way to fix it.

“So why won’t you let
him
fix it? Tell me that and I’ll let it go,” he said gently. “Otherwise, you know it will drive me crazy.” Because he was her father and he felt it was his place to fix her problems. She believed differently, but she could tell him the least of what he wanted to know.

“Because, if he loved me, then he would love me enough to know what to do, Dad,” she said somberly. “Like you knew with Mom.”

And how many times had her father told her how he’d known the second he met her mother what she would be to him? That he had loved her from the moment he had met her and had been willing to die for her if he could have?

She wanted that kind of love as well.

Her father shook his head sadly. “Sheila, your mother led me on a merry chase. I didn’t say I recognized the emotion in that first moment. It was only later I realized what I was feeling. No man that I know of recognizes love for what it is until his absolutely forced to do so.”

“So will he, if that’s what he feels,” she told him. “Don’t mess with this, Dad.”

She couldn’t handle it. She wouldn’t tolerate it. She wouldn’t be able to bear the thought that her father had somehow “ordered” Casey to love her.

She wouldn’t play games with Casey, and she wasn’t going to allow her father to step in to fix this for her. Only Casey could fix it and she had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen either.

She had always suspected the fact that she was Captain Rutledge’s daughter had kept Casey away from her for years. If her father intervened, no doubt Casey would feel that pressure to make promises he wouldn’t want to make or keep.

God, she wanted him though.

She almost wanted him—no, loved him—enough to risk it. Enough to almost consider it. She was dying for him and it was all her own stubborn fault for wanting more than he had to give.

And in all the months they had been coming together, not once had Casey suggested that there was more between them than the few nights a month they spent in his bed. He hadn’t asked her out, he hadn’t suggested that their relationship could ever develop into anything more serious. Just as he had never indicated to anyone else that they were together in any way.

And that hurt. As though he were ashamed of her, or too frightened of her father to risk him knowing, which she knew wasn’t the case. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to be a couple with her.

She was tired of it. Each time he touched her, she felt as though he had torn another part of her heart from her chest and carried it away with him. She didn’t want to lose more of her heart. She didn’t want to be in this relationship alone.

“You’re frightened,” her father finally said softly, his head tilting to the side as he regarded her with gentle admonishment.

“Frightened of what?” She couldn’t believe he had said anything so ridiculous or with such fatherly chastisement.

“Of being hurt,” he guessed. “You know, Sheila, I haven’t heard even a whiff of a rumor that you were seeing anyone. That you were interested in anyone. You’ve kept him very well hidden and that makes me wonder if the problems are your fault or your unknown lover’s.”

Her lips thinned. “I’m not telling you who it is.”

He shook his head slowly. “My dear, you wouldn’t have had to tell me, if you weren’t frightened of this man breaking your heart. A woman doesn’t hide something so important as the man she’s in love with, unless there’s something holding her back. Or,” his voice lowered further. “Or, she doesn’t love him at all. And if that’s the case, then I don’t want to know who he is.” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “I only want to meet the important ones and this one obviously isn’t important at all.”

At that point, he straightened and moved back to his office without saying anything further, leaving Sheila to stare at his back with narrowed eyes as she wondered at what game he could be playing with her. Her father could be amazingly devious when he wanted information. That was why he made such an efficient commander for the Covert Information Network.

She only wished Casey didn’t matter.

She wished she didn’t miss him with everything inside her; missing him was killing her.