Still Mine (2 page)

One year later he was dead, and she’d simply been left with nothing and no idea as to where to turn her life. The world was a mighty big place when you were twenty years old and widowed.

Without Paul, life became the coldest hell she’d ever known. Love had now become her greatest enemy because she yearned for a man who was dead. He still invaded her dreams, her body recalling his touch like he’d been there in the darkest hours of the night beside her. Waking up was a torment that still stung her eyes with tears sometimes. It was illogical but that didn’t drive the ache out of her heart.

Six years was a pathetic amount of time to carry a flame for a man she’d only known a year. There were questions milling around in her head about her late husband that she wasn’t going to know the answer to. Dark spots in his life that he’d failed to share any information on. Contacting his family was impossible because he’d never introduced her to even a distant cousin. He hadn’t told her about his third-grade teacher or mentioned a sports team he’d played on or what his favorite sport was. Sometimes, it felt like she’d slipped into a dream for that year and woken back up to reality after his funeral, rubbing her eyes and trying to decide if it really had happened. The only tangible evidence of their time together, a life insurance policy that granted her the ability to dream of training to become something more than just another junior-college graduate.

But that was another reason she’d let him clasp her hand and have an early evening wedding with only two nuns as witnesses. Paul had been alone and so had she. Her parents’ deaths the year before had dumped her into a foster care system that turned her out on her own on her eighteenth birthday. She’d been scraping by when she ran into the most alluring man to ever stare back at her. Her lips twitched up into a grin as she considered the way she had loved to look at him. She could still see the midnight black hair with matching eyebrows. His dark eyes, so full of fire—she’d been mesmerized. She could still see him, standing on the seashore, his boots neatly sitting beside him as he curled his toes in the sand. His face had been alight with enjoyment so brilliant it had stopped her in her tracks.

One awkward comment had somehow lengthened into a conversation that lasted past midnight as the tide came in. Somehow, they’d connected in a manner that she’d never experienced before or since. Like he’d needed her, just as she needed him. It had felt so perfect that every man who asked her out now paled in comparison. She often wondered if that was one of the reasons the priest had agreed to marry them. Some attempt to keep her and Paul from going down a road paved with immorality and sin. The priest tried to tell her to attend marriage classes, at first refusing to offer them the sacrament of marriage without a six-month waiting period.

But maybe he’d seen the fire in both their eyes. Even with her youth and inexperience, there was no way she’d have remained a virgin for half a year. She was too drawn to Paul and he’d been far too adept in the art of seduction to be ignored for very long. She had been drowning in the sensory overload, her body craving his even if she wasn’t exactly sure what that final surrender would feel like. It had been hot, pulsing need and written all over her face as she’d managed to force herself to demand a wedding blessing. One last effort to string up a safety net beneath herself before she gave in to her lust.

Besides, Paul hadn’t much cared about the details. He wanted her and wasn’t going to be denied. He’d been humoring her for the two weeks of their courtship, taking her closer to the edge of reason every time he touched her.

Like Tait seemed intent on doing.

The deputy radiated confidence. He was the embodiment of warrant-squad deputies. Capable and without a hint of weakness. It really was too bad that she didn’t feel the heat.

She should spend her energy feeling grateful. Paul had provided for her and that money enabled her to become the woman she was today. She’d worked hard for it but she never would have been able to attend the special training program for women interested in law enforcement if she hadn’t had the money his life insurance had given her. It was such an imperfect world, where a woman found herself being grateful for the money gained from the death of her husband. She lingered in the pain of that loss as she struggled to fend off guilt and enjoy the life she’d built. In moments like this, she wasn’t sure if she would ever win that battle.

People often asked her why she had chosen law enforcement. She gave them the expected answers about service and wanting to help people, but the truth was she never wanted to be that helpless again.

She’d been packed out of her base housing with barely suppressed impatience, the morning after her husband was laid to rest. She hadn’t wanted to linger anyway. Without Paul, the tiny apartment was nothing but a pain-filled hell. The only thing worse had been the pity she’d watched being aimed at her from every person she passed on her way out into the civilian world.

Catching a slight reflection of her face in a mirror across the bar, Jo felt a measure of satisfaction sweep her. She was nothing like that girl had been! Her feet were firmly planted beneath her now. Paul had loved a sweet, innocent girl. That girl had loved him back and centered her world around him. The memories were treasured but Jolene often wondered just when she would be able to completely bury her husband. She’d managed to grow up, so it was well past time to get on with living.

That needed to include a lover at some point. Someone who might grow into a husband and family. Being alone sucked. Sleeping with the memory of her dead husband wasn’t going to get any better.

Maybe she should reconsider Tait’s offer. The deputy was hard bodied and dedicated to his badge. But her smile twisted on her face as she tried to imagine kissing the man. She just couldn’t do it.

Well, she should. Jo grabbed her glass and finished it. She was an absolute moron! Being faithful to a memory was medieval. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d drink until Tait turned her on and then take the man home for a night of wild irresponsibility. Remaining celibate for six years was another bad habit she really needed to lose. She dreamed of a man who was dead. You’d think her heart would get the message when she woke up to stare at the neatly folded American flag sitting on her dresser. Paul was gone and she was stuck in the world of the living. Tait moved his gaze around to look at her and her skin tightened. But the word “no” shot through her brain. Jo hissed through her teeth as frustration became her closest friend.

Idiot was the right word tonight all right. She was a blooming poster child for it.

***

“We have the target in sight, sir.” The words were spoken with calm knowledge.

“Proceed.”

Efficient fingers typed competently away at a laptop computer. A quick tap on the entry command key and the operator simply sat still, waiting for further instructions.

Their target had walked another thirty feet along the sidewalk and was inserting a key into the door lock of a parked vehicle. Dispassionate eyes watched as the door was opened and their target slid behind the wheel. Jolene Benate was falling neatly into their trap. It was boring actually, because she was predictable. Two weeks of surveillance had documented her routine well. The only changing factor was the one they were about to introduce.

A hint of a mocking smile turned his lips up. Civilian law enforcement was really just another word for “mildly amusing target”. Maybe they knew a little more than the average citizen but it still wasn’t anything impressive.

She was as good as theirs already. The only thing setting her apart from the average female was the slight possibility that she’d put up enough resistance to entertain the surveillance team for a few moments, before she was contained and neatly shipped off until they were ready to use her.

Slowly adjusting the radio, Jo searched for something soothing. Her mind was too full and she needed a little tranquility for the remainder of the evening. Her gaze caught the dashboard clock and she corrected herself—it was officially morning.

One a.m. or not, Jo had every intention of driving home and sleeping until something other than her job woke her up. As she turned the corner, Jo automatically hit the lock button in the car. All four doors secured their locks. Red Wade’s wasn’t in the friendliest area of town, and she sure didn’t want to waste the early hours of the morning filling out a report on why she’d shot any would-be purse snatcher. Her purse was tucked safely under her seat to keep it out of sight as well. Tossing a handbag onto the passenger’s seat was like laying out fresh bait. One solid strike to the window with any sharp tool closed in a fist while you were stopped at a red light, and your purse was gone in a shower of glass.

“Jesus!” The car’s brakes locked up and the tires slid as Jo tried in vain to keep from hitting the truck that had pulled out in front of her. The crunch of glass mixed with the groan of metal colliding with metal. Whatever sort of vehicle she’d hit, it was solid steel. Her car crumpled like tinfoil under the impact. Her clear observation of the collision abruptly ended as the airbag deployed. Her vision went dark as the cushion of air slammed her back against her seat. The interior of the car turned into a sauna as the hot gas used to inflate the air bag surrounded her.

Cool air rushed in when the door was yanked open. Rough hands pulled her from the wreck without any regard to possible injury. Her brain was fuzzy, but she tried to form some word of protest past her lips while she was dragged from the wreck of her car. She firmly pushed one of her rescuers away from her body, digging her heels in to stop. Her resistance was dealt with harshly. Her groggy mind snapped to attention as she was roughly jerked about, the hands on her arms tightening to a painful level. They dragged her forward to the open back door of a van. It was like a dark cavern in the night. A hand wrapped around her neck as she was pushed towards the open doors.

Planting her foot firmly on the bumper of the van, Jo used the solid leverage to jam her body backwards. The surprise of her action broke the firm hold her captors had on her. She dropped to the asphalt and wobbled as her senses still refused to work completely. Letting gravity take her all the way to the ground, she rolled under the van and the limited protection it offered her.

Continuing her motion, Jolene pushed herself to her feet on the opposite side of the van. Harsh cussing hit the night as did a snap and pop that her brain instantly recognized. She kept moving, struggling to get her feet under her as a bullet shattered the side window of her car.

She silently thanked God she had served that warrant today. While she didn’t have her main sidearm any longer, she still had her back-up weapon secured to her ankle. She removed the small-caliber pistol with a swift movement.

Her would-be captors came into view. The moonlight danced off the barrel of a pistol as it erupted with a tiny flame. Her shoulder stung as she brought her own weapon level with her oncoming threat. They surged forward with arms outstretched. Jolene had nothing more than a split second in which to decide a course of action. Her fuzzy brain chose survival and she pulled the trigger. At their close range, the bullet went through the first man and lodged in the second. Enough to drop the first man, but the second was simply wounded and he made a grab for her weapon.

Jolene pulled the trigger a second time and her assailant dropped to the ground. Both men lay on the pavement. The streetlights cast an unnatural glow to the scene and Jo felt herself losing her grip on reality again. Her shirt turned hot as it became soaked with blood. She looked at the spreading stain with mild interest while the streetlamps turned into stars of light. She slowly slid the safety on her weapon before dropping to the pavement to join her victims.

Chapter Two

“You make me believe in love.”

His kiss was strong and deep. Jo lifted her hands to the shoulders of her husband. Her fingertips eagerly tracing the solid muscle, delighting in each second their skin was touching. Her body twisted into a flame as heat moved like a wave through her. His hands cupping her breasts, making her moan through their kiss. Her nipples tightened, while she arched towards her husband, trying to press the sensitive tips against his chest.

Hunger clawed at her passage. Moisture gathered on the top of her thighs. She craved his touch and pressed her body towards his, searching for the hard thrust of his cock. Needing that last shred of separation to be removed between them. Her hips lifting upwards, offering herself to him.

“Jonnie? I have to go now…”

She reached for her dream, her fingers straining towards Paul, but it dissipated as she jerked awake. Her lips moved but she held her whimper inside her throat. Her body actually pulsed and throbbed for satisfaction as her husband’s image faded into her lost slumber.

Pain surfaced as her dream dissipated. Her body was almost too heavy to move and she struggled against the bedding. The sheet felt like ropes binding her legs to the mattress. The stark white cotton confused her because her bedroom was decorated in soft shades of purple and green.

“Welcome back, Jo.” The deep male voice startled her further as she jerked her head around to stare at Tait. A moment of panic gripped her.

“You’re in the hospital.” And he was fully clothed, sitting in a chair next to her bed and also keeping the door in clear sight. It was a textbook-perfect position for suspects under protection.