Still Mine (9 page)

Just perfect. Not only was she who-the-hell-knew-where, her list of injuries was increasing, which meant going back to work wasn’t getting any closer. She needed her job. It was sad just how much she’d give to be able to go in to the office today. Sure, it wouldn’t solve her problems, but it would let her soak up enough strength to recharge her self-confidence. Her job was something she’d earned and knew damned well she was good enough for. No one could take that from her.

Sitting on this post dumped her into contact with a man who didn’t think she was strong enough to handle life beside him.

But she loved him…

Rolling out of her bed, she gave in to the urge to cuss. Casting her gaze around, Jo considered the rather Spartan room she’d been too tired to investigate last night. Being knocked flat by pain medication was getting old too. Letting her guard down wasn’t even close to something she wanted to do, given the current situation. Whatever Paul wanted from her, she needed to look out for her own interests. It was a harsh idea and she flinched as she considered how little she trusted him. But the plain room was a blunt reminder of where he’d placed her.

The double bed dominated the room. Two doors were in view—one probably led to a bathroom while the other would be her exit. A small desk was against one wall with a chair neatly tucked under it, and there was a closet. The single window the room sported had its blinds tightly closed. The wooden barrier was little match for the sunlight lighting up the room, telling her that it faced east.

Pushing the bedcover back into order, she tested out her body with the chore of making the bed. Other than a few aches, her body responded normally enough. She unwrapped her right hand to look at her wound. These were deep burns and should be hurting like hell. Guess she had discovered just why her brain seemed to be in such a fog. Pain medication still lingered in her bloodstream. Whatever they’d given her was topnotch and with her recent run of luck, addictive.

Randomly selecting one of the two doors, she was rewarded with the bathroom. Her movements were quick and efficient. No point in relaxing under the hot water, she wasn’t going to discover the answers to her questions here.

No, she would have to find Paul for that. The significance of that idea stopped her efforts. Jo stared at her reflection, simply trying to grasp the reality that her husband was very much alive. Having clung to his memory for so long, finding him alive left her falling with nothing to hold on to as her heart shredded.

The emotions twisted and turned so quickly it was impossible to understand them. Jolene found herself just attempting to remain standing as they slammed into her with brutal intensity.

One thing was painfully clear. The hint of intensity in the youth she’d married had completely matured. A shiver shook her frame as her lips chose that moment to tingle with memory. How was it possible to react so strongly to a man? Was that love? Maybe, but even embracing the idea of still being in love with Paul didn’t make her feel any more secure. In fact, it doubled her anxiety.

Being lied to and discarded should have driven a wedge between them, at least enough to still the sexual hunger that had haunted her for the last six years. Instead it had risen up the instant she laid eyes on him.

Hell, Tait should have looked as good as ice cream now. Instead her nipples tingled over Paul. She shied away from the word “husband” because it was too damn early in the morning to contemplate how easily she might have committed adultery. Just because she’d been uninterested in other men didn’t change the fact that Paul was an asshole. Majorly. Hard nipples only meant that Mother Nature was in the doghouse along with her spouse.

She wasn’t a staunch Catholic. Her foster parents had insisted on her attendance in their congregation. Asking for a wedding in front of a priest had been her way of honoring them. Six years later, she recognized it had been an emotional need to link her sudden attraction to Paul with her deceased parents’ approval. But she was a Christian, maybe not a staunch Catholic, but the idea of “cheating” on her husband still ranked as wrong in her book.

If they weren’t living as man and wife, they needed a divorce. Honesty was important to her. There was nothing worse than a lying spouse playing the cheating game. That was her feeling on the matter. If you were cheating, it was a sure bet that sex was going to be the long and short of the relationship. There was no love involved and she needed that emotional attachment. Longed for it actually. Why else would she still be alone when she thought Paul was dead?

Showering took more time than she anticipated. Her hand complained bitterly. Tears sprang to her eyes more than once, and Jo angrily brushed them aside.

Back in her room once again, she slid the closet door open, hoping to find her duffle bag. Instead she encountered a neat stack of army fatigues. It beat staying inside or walking around naked, so she reached for the pants. She rewrapped her hand injury and tried to deal with her shoulder.

The pain medication was wearing off rapidly and she dismissed her bandages with a snort of displeasure. She was collecting injuries far too quickly. Maybe it was time she found Paul and put a few questions to the man. If nothing else, she needed a divorce before she threw herself at Tait.

She scoffed at her own lame humor because it beat self-pity. Besides, she figured Tait would enjoy the attention.

Jo pulled the outer door open very slowly. Major Durant’s warning about getting shot repeated itself in the back of her brain. She leaned her head out. No sentry in sight. Stepping forward, she walked a few paces from her room, closing the door behind her. No alarm sounded. It looked like she was free to leave her quarters. Her lips twisted into a grim line. She could more than likely thank that electric fence for her partial freedom. Her hand closed in a defensive motion and a little shiver raced down her spine. Challenging that fence again wasn’t on her list of things to try. But it gave her the freedom to move about without Durant or one of his lackeys. That was a step up from dealing with Deputy Kent and his protection team.

But a cage was still a cage. Even if a larger one. The silver lining was this base wasn’t designed to keep her contained. Prison cells were crafted to keep a convict inside and under complete control. This post was built for another reason and Paul trusted that dumping her on it would be enough to contain her.

She intended to prove him wrong.

She’d never discovered his deception when they were married because she’d had no reason to go looking for evidence. Today she was going to search high and low until she found a means of contacting Locke.

Locke had taught her one very important thing—some of the best information was the sort you gained by simply observing. People told you what they wanted you to know, but their actions were always purely honest.

Setting herself at a steady pace, she took in her surroundings with a practiced eye for detail. No one seemed to be paying her any attention. With her new fatigue wardrobe on, she looked just like any of the other personnel she passed. The only thing that might draw attention to her would be her hair. Even clipped up to contain it, the length gave her gender away. As far as Jo could see, there were either very few or no other women on this base. All of the men had their hair cut close to their heads. That made her abundance of hair a target for recognition. Any surveillance cameras would be able to pick her out of a crowd.

Jo didn’t stop moving but her brain worked at finding a solution. A good number of the personnel were wearing hats. Just the type her father had always worn while fishing. Simple, but with the desert heat baking her uncovered head, very necessary. If she could find one, it would serve her needs perfectly.

Another thing Locke had taught her. Always try to observe your adversary without their knowledge. The things you could learn about their true character were limitless. Blending in with the base personnel was critical because it placed a small measure of control back into her hands. At the moment, she was desperate for a taste of self-confidence. Even one as small as going unnoticed.

A pay phone would be a gift from God.

The base seemed to be centered around the aircraft that sat on the large tarmac. There were numerous hangars that bordered the landing pad, and as the heat climbed, some of their bay doors opened to vent them. The view they revealed was amazing.

The aircraft sitting on the tarmac were common enough, but what was stored in those hangars was neither common nor expected. Jolene wondered just what was hidden behind some of the hangar doors that were kept sealed. She could hear the rattle of the huge fans set in the roofs of those hangars as they tried to keep the temperature from skyrocketing.

One of the open doors yielded a neat row of hooks that cold-weather jackets hung from. The shelf directly beneath held a neat stack of hats. Jo lifted one of the hats and firmly tugged the cloth down over her head.

Now, she just needed to figure out what base this was and what state she was in. Not sure what Paul had planned for her, she held to her course of inspecting her surroundings.

One thing he’d taught her well—fend for yourself. His sudden appearance in her life only reinforced that lesson. Whoever was behind her recent run of bad luck was looking for him. One thing she’d learn since earning her badge, there was no such thing as coincidence in crime. If the people Paul worked with carried guns, he had something worth protecting and stealing. Casting a look around the unfamiliar aircraft, she moved along, shaking her head.

Chasing criminals had never sounded so tame. Just the regular kind of scum, thank you. She’d pass on the top-secret, classified group her husband was running with. A flash of hurt shot through her as she contemplated the fact that she’d be leaving alone.

Well, she’d take that consequence of loneliness. She was used to it.

“I find the challenge very stimulating.”

“Make certain you obtain the target.”

“She will be in our hands within forty-five hours.” The director turned and left on silent feet. Such meetings always caused a slight acceleration of his heart. It wasn’t due to fear, rather a response to the challenge his superior always gave him. Few people held true appreciation for his talents.

Andraluph did.

His superior always reserved the most complicated assignments for him. In his gratitude, he had never failed. Securing control of Doctor Paul Benate had been far more stimulating then he had first anticipated.

Even the bait was beginning to amuse him. It would be intriguing to see just how much pressure she could take. Once Jolene Benate had been utilized to draw her husband out, she would be at the director’s disposal until he tired of her responses. He did enjoy testing a subject.

Reaching under his jacket, one hand felt for the steady increase in pulmonary function. Yes, the assignment was very satisfactory.

Paul stood on the asphalt, watching Ruby touch down. The morning test flight was a moment he’d spent years waiting to see. The engines geared down as the plane rolled close to the hangar before stopping completely. The canopy lifted, allowing the pilot to talk to him.

“She’s a sweet bitch! Handles like a dream.”

The test pilot’s praise wasn’t lost on Paul, but he was a bit more interested in the readings the on-board computer had recorded. Leaning into the cockpit of the test craft, he deftly punched in his clearance code required to obtain access to the mainframe. He plugged in his handheld terminal and watched the data download.

It was finally time to see if his golden girl performed to his expectations. She had already impressed the armed forces; however, it would take hard data to win him over.

But Ruby was his baby. Conceived, birthed and reared by him alone. The plane had only been under construction and testing for the last five years, but she had existed in his mind for more than ten. The skeptics had predicted that she would never fly. His baby didn’t fly. She danced. Twisting and arcing through the air with the maneuverability that would keep her from the most advanced targeting systems.

But there was a hell of a lot more to the aircraft. Running his fingers over the exterior, he inspected the spider webbing of fibers he’d designed personally. Expensive and almost in defiance of every accepted manufacturing technique, his design was almost invisible to radar. The fuselage blurred light through a complex combination of plastics and fiberglass. Ruby would dominate the air because you just couldn’t target her. It had taken absolute devotion to get her built.

“Clear, sir?”

Descending from the aircraft, Paul gave Ruby over to the ground crews. He knew they called her the ugly duckling, but she had been built by science. In nature, beauty had only one purpose—to attract the attention of a mate.

Ruby had been built to remain untouched by the other predators of the skies.

Four other projects required his attention but nothing was going to stand between him and his Ruby. He wanted to see the proof of her ability. Lengthening his stride, Paul ducked into his office.

It took just minutes for the computer to confirm what he had known for ten years. Leaning back in his chair, Paul let a smile of satisfaction slide over his face.

“That good?”

Paul controlled the impulse to jump. Nolan Durant had an amazing ability to approach without the slightest sound. No small feat when the man was a giant. At six foot four, Paul came up short next to men like Nolan.

“Exactly as I predicted.”

From most people that kind of a statement would have been more boast than fact. Paul enjoyed the burn of his own pride as he reread some of the data, confirming that he wasn’t talking smack. The proof was in front of him now.

“Your wife is a bit of a surprise.”

The reference to Jolene caused the smile to fade. Nolan was just about the only man on post with the gall to bring his wife up. Everyone else was avoiding the appearance of his spouse, neatly skirting the issue. No one had breathed a single syllable in his presence, in spite of the fact that he knew the intel had flown to the far corners of the post before sunrise. Having his wife on post was like importing an elephant and housing it on the open tarmac.