Still Mine (22 page)

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Authors: Mary Wine

BOOK: Still Mine
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It was mindless enough to let her brain drive her crazy.

She caught Paul staring at her from his office. She itched to stand and confront him, but remained in her seat when she considered just where that might lead. Last night burned a path through her memory as she contemplated the choice in front of her. The night she’d come face-to-face with her living, breathing husband, she had been certain of what she wanted.

Now, the path wasn’t so clear. It was shrouded with the passion they drew from each other. Her thinking was clouded by the fact that she’d been so damn lonely since they’d parted. No one had it all in life, and she wasn’t the first person to have to choose between career and love.

Making it her choice deflated her anger, leaving her facing the love she’d never gotten past. The future stretched out in front of her, cold and lonely without Paul.

Choice…it was a double-edged sword. She suddenly understood how he’d allowed her to be told he was dead. He’d shouldered the burden completely.

A soft step stopped near her desk.

“Deputy Ross Locke is everything his service record said, including the part about rattling the chain of authority just shy of actually crossing over into insubordination.” Paul sounded impressed. Jo considered the compliment he was handing her, in a backwards sort of way. Serving on Locke’s team meant she had performed to his standards.

“That’s Locke for you. He runs one fine warrant squad.”

Paul studied her for a moment. “Do you enjoy your work?”

“It was a goal.” Staring at him, she pegged him with a steady look. “I didn’t like the picture I saw in the mirror, so I set out to change it. The enjoyment came with achievement.”

Paul nodded with approval. “Not too bad, baby. There’s not many women that can boast a position on that squad.”

She smiled, the corners of her mouth rising without any thought. He was proud of her. Paul watched the joy race through her. There was a pull, drawing her towards him, but she hesitated as she considered Nolan’s men who were still clinging to her heels. Both soldiers wore ear radios that had slim microphones extending down along their jawlines towards their mouths.

Paul grunted softly as he cut a quick glance at their audience.

“I think Nolan’s a little pissed at you.”

She shrugged, unrepentant.

A sparkle of admiration glittered in his eyes. “Are you wearing that gun?”

“Yes.”

A chill crossed his face, surprising her. “Do you trust every man with your boss?”

Standing, she lowered her voice so that it wouldn’t go bouncing down the length of the metal hangar. “I trust Locke.”

Paul offered her a raised eyebrow. “Funny thing is, your boss’s boss appears to be running the show. So I’m asking you, since it’s your blood that keeps getting splattered.” He turned and leaned closer to her. “Knowing them doesn’t mean you trust any of them.”

Her gut twisted as she felt the chill she’d witnessed in her husband’s eyes. She understood it now. The stakes had risen beyond the point where there would be any room for error. “Only two of them are my team members. Locke and Tait. I trust them at my back.”

Paul drew a slow breath as he considered her words. “That’s a mighty big problem.” Indecision flickered in his gaze. “Locke is waiting for you at the firing range. Since you don’t have faith in the man running this little rescue mission, I wouldn’t advise you getting into one of those birds with him.”

It was a test. She locked gazes with her husband. Reaching out, he grasped one of her hands, transferring something from his grip into her palm.

“But it’s your choice. That’s one lesson I’ve learned.” He pressed a slim plastic item tightly against her hand as his fingers gently rubbed the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “I know which one I’m hoping you make, baby.”

Releasing her, he backed up. Jo glanced down to investigate what he’d given her. Even without its box, she recognized what he’d handed her. Still sealed in plastic, the pregnancy test made her shudder. A tiny moan escaped her lips as she curled her fingers around it.

“You’re right, marriage is a partnership.” He leaned closer, next to her ear once again. “So meet me in the middle, Jo. Between what I need and what you want.”

Her eyes burned as tears tried to turn her vision glassy. Leaving was hard, so much more difficult than she’d imagined. The pain flooding her sobered her as she tasted what it must have been like for him to let her go. They were joined together. Some force bound them, refusing to allow either of them to forget the other.

Hesitating, she turned and looked at Paul. “I’ll be back.”

She headed into the sinking sun. Holding her chin level, she went to face the only other man she’d struggled to please. She was torn between them, but at the same time, she recognized she owed Locke for helping her become the woman who just might have everything her husband had considered she lacked. Pushing the pregnancy test into her pocket, a smile of satisfaction lifted her lips as she moved towards the firing range.

She would be back. Her husband had better count on that.

Paul stiffened, trying to control the urge to snarl. The impulse to charge after Jo was strong, only overpowered by the desire to see her walking towards him of her own free will. It was a mental puzzle that completely baffled him.

The setting sun turned Ruby into the embodiment of her name, but for the first time, the aircraft didn’t fill him with a warm glow. It was a machine. A creation worthy of notice but it could never love him back. Jo’s taste lingered on his lips from last night, her soft breathing still echoing through his head. Casting a look at his team, he shrugged out of his work jacket.

“I’m calling it a day.”

More than one jaw dropped in response. Paul enjoyed the surprise as he stopped by one of the computers on the hangar main floor. Typing in his name and security code, he logged himself out, securing the system. Looking up at his team, he shoved the swivel chair under the desk.

“It’s a plane, gentlemen, let’s stop letting it be a lifestyle.”

Chase McCann let out a low whistle. Jung Lee smirked with a knowing gleam in his eyes. The Asian man folded his arms over his chest and watched his superior stride across the tarmac.

“Pretty Lady is a gift.”

Chase glared at him. “Yeah, the kind you should return for a refund. Fast.”

Jung turned and his face was serious. “Your life has been kind. Some are not so lucky.”

Chase cleared his throat nervously. Jung was quiet but sharp as a whip. He didn’t talk about his past. In fact, the guy had very little to say at all.

“Where are you from anyway, Jung?”

Jung’s face clouded with pain. “A place that is dead now.” He took a deep breath and looked at Ruby. “Just as this project is not life. It is merely a safe harbor to hide in.”

Chase stood with a report in his hand as Jung left as well. The Asian’s feet didn’t make a sound as he tapped his own code into the system and vanished.

“Yeah, well great.” Staring at the empty hangar, Chase shifted as he considered the night stretching out in front of him. Paul’s obsession with his wife suddenly didn’t seem so revolting anymore. Envy filled him as he walked out of the hangar at a slow pace, because he didn’t have anywhere to be and no one was looking forward to his company.

Life hadn’t been that nice to him.

 

Ross Locke pulled the trigger and hit the target in the bull’s eye. He raised his head slightly to admire his work before adjusting his gaze on the sights of the handgun. At the far end of the range, his target was peppered with neat tears, all of them in the center ring. The rest of the paper was smooth. He sent another bullet down the range before turning to look at her. Pulling his ear protection off, he moved from the front line to join her.

“Nice range. I miss being on post. I get tired of people with gun phobia.”

Jo followed him around to the cleaning table. Gunfire drifted in from the range as the sun turned everything crimson. Her boss dismantled his sidearm with quick motions.

“Interesting turn of events in your life.” He cut her a quick glance from his weathered face before looking back at his gun. With a practiced hand, he slid the firing pin home.

“Thanks for answering my letter.”

Locke clicked the housing of his pistol back into place and pegged her with a glare. “Now there’s another very perplexing bit of information, Benate. In fact, it’s sort of a relief to discover just why you’re such a hot commodity.”

“Perplexing how?” Her boss was back to his brassy humor but she knew the tone. Ross Locke was suspicious and she trusted that gut instinct of his.

“I didn’t get that letter. Rutten did.”

Tension pulled her insides taut. Jo cast a quick glance around them before looking into the hard stare of her boss. He was dead serious. “Of course, that might just have been a secretary panic attack. You know, one of the girls so worried about you she walked it up to Rutten’s hands.”

Jo didn’t believe it and neither did Locke. She saw that in his eyes. His tone dropped to barely a whisper.

“Keep your guard up, Benate.”

He jerked his head to get her to leave, and she looked around to see a troop of deputies heading their way. The little monitor around her ankle suddenly made her feel secure, as did the gun clipped into her waistband.

“Thanks, boss.”

Moving away from Locke, Jo battled with the urge to seek out Nolan. She didn’t have any real evidence, just her boss’s gut feeling. That was something she set a great store by, but that wouldn’t sound very good to an officer.

That left her looking over her shoulder and regretting that letter for the first time.

But Paul was talking to her now. She suddenly wanted to find him, needed to find the man who was willing to work with her, who respected her opinion. Doubling her stride, she headed to their quarters.

Chapter Eleven

Her quarters were quiet. The kind of silence you noticed because it was a stark contrast to what you craved. Glancing at the wall, she almost saw the bed she’d slept in last night, so close but with a huge barrier in the way.

It wasn’t immovable if she was willing to toss her pride aside.

Chewing on her lip, she flipped the light on and shut the door. A small end table was placed in the middle of the walkway that led to the bedroom. Blinking her eyes, she stared at it. Moving closer, she noticed the envelope lying on top of it. There was nothing fancy about it, simple office fare. Her name was handwritten on it.

Reaching for it sent a chill up her arm. The tail was tucked into it and she pulled the sheet of folded paper out with only a whisper of sound. Opening it up, she trembled as she read the brief message twice.

Your husband requests the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening. Dress is informal with a dash of romance anticipated.

Goose bumps rose along her arm as sensation traveled through every inch of her. Romance? Well, there was a word that she’d never really associated with Paul. He’d always been overwhelming, passionate and sinfully intoxicating. Looking over the handwritten note again, she smiled, her lips rising into a sunny expression that lit up the entire room. She was suddenly grumpy that she didn’t have a dress to wear, or even a feminine top. Hell, some lacy underwear would be divine, but all she had was cotton shorts that her grandmother would have approved of.

Stepping around the table, she entered her tiny bathroom and found her duffle bag. Rummaging around in it, she came up with only the bare essentials of makeup. Staring at them, she felt her stomach tighten as tears stung her eyes. It was such a complex mixture of emotions—joy at being asked and apprehension over knowing that she didn’t have the willpower to return to her own bed.

But the possibility that Paul might actually seduce her was too much to ignore. Romance was the one thing he’d never done in large amounts. Passionate flare-ups were more his style. Dropping the makeup onto the countertop, she pulled the pins out of her hair. Well, she was going to find out what it felt like once more to be the sole object of her husband’s attention. Everything could just wait because she had a date with her husband.

 

A half hour later, butterflies accompanied her out the door. Freshly showered, she’d carefully added a few touches to her complexion from her limited cosmetics. Her wardrobe lacked anything feminine and she frowned as she considered the few lacy articles of lingerie she did own going to waste back in her condo. Leaving her hair down had been her only option to shake up her military wardrobe.

But she laughed softly as she remembered that Richard Tait had been the one to pack her duffle bag before she was handed over to Kent and his protection team. Considering that fact, she decided it was best the man hadn’t investigated her top drawers. As perfect as he was, there was no spark. The tension in her belly was solid proof of that.

Paul made her sweat.

He made her cuss and scream too, but there was no escaping the heat he sent flooding through her just by being near.

Or by inviting her to dinner.

She stopped short as she stared into the eyes of one of her escorts. The soldier was watching her front door and he’d perked up when she opened it. Having a witness didn’t bother her. It was frankly amazing how much she didn’t care about the pair of men knowing where she went.

The door to Paul’s unit was standing open. Casting her gaze about, she found him waiting, leaning against the doorjamb, creases on his forehead. He shook his head as he moved towards her.

“That was the longest damn shower in history.”

“Oh yeah?”

He narrowed his eyes, before slipping an arm around her waist and pushing her towards his open door. He snorted at her response, making her laugh at his grouchy mood.

“Just think, I could have needed to dress too. You might not have survived.”

“I like you nude. And I have a key.” He shoved the door shut and captured her hips in both hands. “Buck naked would be perfect.”

She rolled her eyes. “Arriving in my birthday suit would have been interesting with the Boy Scouts outside.”

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