Sweet Revenge (32 page)

twenty-nine

West Virginia mountains

As Dylan steered his truck up the long drive, he fruitlessly fought the memories bombarding him. He remembered sitting on the front porch waiting for Jamie to arrive, dreading the job he’d agreed to do, even while the thought of seeing her again had his heart thudding with anticipation.

Even though he’d already acknowledged that he had feelings for her, he had never foreseen how deep they would go. Jamie had surprised, enchanted, and enthralled him just by being exactly who she was.

What he’d told McCall was true. Jamie was too good for him. The garbage that had sired Dylan was in his blood. Adages like “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” and “Blood will out” hadn’t been created or repeated through the centuries without good reason.

He’d spent his life regretting not saving his mother. Then, when Sheila had come to him for help, his anger and pride had kept him from believing that she was in danger. If he had believed her, he could have saved her.

And Jamie meant everything to him. Would there come a day when the blood running through his veins overruled his love for her? He couldn’t take the chance.

McKenna had said that Jamie had decided to teach again and was back in the States. He hadn’t asked what state. Knowing would have been too much of a temptation. As Jamie had once told him, the U.S. has fifty states, and that’s a damn big territory.

As he pulled to the top of the drive, he noticed that lights were on inside the cabin. Apparently, Bliss had already arrived. He’d been wondering about the name—was that her real one or a name LCR had provided? Many operatives, especially those who wanted to escape a dark past, changed their names. Dylan hadn’t seen the need. His last name seemed damn appropriate.

He opened the car door and stretched, glad that the trip was over. Hopefully, Bliss wouldn’t mind if he didn’t stay up and talk. They could get to know each other at breakfast, when his mind was clearer and images of Jamie weren’t clouding his every thought.

With his duffel bag in one hand, Dylan turned the doorknob and the door swung open. The cozy scene that greeted him slammed at him hard. A fire blazed in the fireplace, the fragrance of something delicious wafted from the kitchen, and soft music came from the built-in speakers. It took everything he had not to turn around and leave. Maybe the memories were going to be too much after all.

A small gasp came from the kitchen door. Dylan swung his head around; both the bag in his hand and his heart raced to the floor with a thud. A beautiful, golden-haired temptress stood in the doorway, looking as startled as he felt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dylan snarled.

A slight flinch and then the inevitable chin lift. “That was going to be my question.”

“I came to train an LCR operative.” Panic rushed through his veins. “Shit, did McCall take you on as an operative?”

“He offered me the job. I said no.”

The relief that she wouldn’t be making a career of putting her life on the line was almost enough to overcome the shock of seeing her again. “Then why are you here?”

White teeth chewed on her lower lips. Ah hell, did she realize what that did to him?

“I just needed some thinking time. Noah said the cabin was free.”

McCall
. Dammit, his boss’s interference was not appreciated. What did the man think Dylan was going to do—forget who he was and what he’d come from?

“I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Her words made him realize he’d been standing at the door, most likely glaring at her.

“No, don’t leave. I came here to do a job, and since the job doesn’t exist, I’ll leave.” He blew out a sigh and added, “Tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

Her mouth trembled as if she wanted to say something else, but instead she just nodded her head and turned back to the kitchen.

Dylan blew out a ragged sigh.
Hell
.

Jamie went back to the vegetables she’d been chopping for her vegetable soup. After all her aching and pining for Dylan over the past few weeks, his less than enthusiastic reaction to seeing her again was like a punch into a gaping wound.

She hadn’t known he was coming. Noah was trying to play matchmaker. While she appreciated his efforts on their behalf, Dylan’s response had shown her there was no hope.

The vegetables blurred in front of her. Knowing she was going to lose it very soon, she made do with what she’d already cut, dropped them into the boiling broth, reduced the heat, and closed the lid. She had to get someplace by herself before she fell apart and Dylan realized the truth.

“Something smells good.”

Damn. Damn. Damn
. With her head turned away from him, she said, “Vegetable beef soup and homemade bread. Should be ready in a half hour or so.” Skirting past him, she kept her back to him as she put the cutting board and knife in the sink. “I’m going to take a bath. Be back in a few minutes.”

“Jamie.”

Shivers of arousal struck her unexpectedly. The growling, husky tone in his voice reminded her of when they were making love. Late at night, when she couldn’t sleep, she imagined hearing that voice, whispering in her ear, as he moved inside her.

But that was in the past, and she couldn’t let him see what he was doing to her. The last thing she wanted was his pity. Still avoiding looking at him, she headed toward the door.

“Jamie, wait.”

She jerked to a stop. Now there was regret and sadness in his voice.
Oh God, he knows
. Her fingers gripped the door frame tightly. “Let it go, Dylan. Please.”

“I wish I could be what you need.”

Unable to let this incredibly odd statement go without addressing it, she whirled around. “What exactly do you think I need?”

For the first time ever, Dylan looked at a loss for words. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, as if he were searching for the right thing to say. He also looked wonderfully dear and almost vulnerable. Jamie’s hands clenched at her sides to keep from reaching out and touching him.

“I think you need someone as good as you are.”

Now she was the one at a loss for words. She shook her head slowly, confused and almost insulted. “Are you insinuating that I’m too good for you?”

“You are.”

Of all the reasons she could think of why Dylan didn’t love her or want to be with her, this was the last one she would have come up with. “What exactly makes me better than you?”

He shook his head and gave an exasperated grunt. “You know about me. I thought by telling you about my past, you’d understand.”

“Understand what? That you had a shitty childhood?”

“I had alcoholic parents and a father who had nothing but evil inside of him.”

“And you think you’re evil, too?”

“No, but I …”

Temper flared, hot and bright—a welcome relief from her earlier, churning emotions. “Give me another reason, Dylan.” She stalked toward him, stopping with her face inches from his. “Tell me you don’t love me. That I’m not your type. Hell, tell me I’m not pretty enough for you. But don’t you dare tell me you’re not good enough for me. That’s pure bullshit. If you’re too afraid to take a chance with me, then at least have the guts to admit it instead of using lame-assed excuses.”

“Jamie … I—”

“You told me once that we make our own way in life … that our past doesn’t define us. So, either you were lying then or you’re lying now. Which one is it?”

A war raged in his eyes. Jamie stared into them, willing him to change his mind, praying that he would fight for them. She could see the struggle—what he wanted versus what he feared. Seconds passed, the only sounds in the room the clock over the mantel and Dylan’s slightly elevated breathing. Jamie held her breath, waiting for a miracle.

The miracle didn’t happen. He turned away and headed out of the room. “I’m not hungry after all. See you in the morning.”

Seconds later, his bedroom door clicked shut and any hope that he would change his mind was demolished.

Jamie rolled over in bed. The sun streaming through the window blinds told her it was late morning. Her mind felt foggy and dull … sadness pervaded her entire being. How could he be so damn stubborn? Did he really think that what his father had done meant he would do the same thing?

She had seen deep inside Dylan … she knew what he was made of. Was he perfect? Absolutely not. He was stubborn, growly, and grumpy, and had a tendency to think his way was the only way to do something. He was also the bravest, strongest, and most gentle man she’d ever known. So no, he wasn’t perfect. But he was perfect for her.

She had hoped that after a good night’s sleep, he would be willing to talk about it. But that wasn’t going to happen. Just after dawn, she’d heard him leave. Just like that. Without so much as a “Goodbye” or “Have a nice life,” he’d walked out the door.

Jamie had cried herself back to sleep. Now, hours later, with her determination back in full force, she needed a massive amount of coffee so she could figure out how she was going to get Dylan to come to his senses. She refused to give up on them.

Pulling herself out of bed, she dressed and brushed her teeth and hair, all with the intent of making herself feel better. Next came coffee, and then she would plan her attack.

She headed to the kitchen, studiously avoiding looking at Dylan’s closed bedroom door. He wasn’t in there, and she refused to do the pitiful thing and enter the bedroom just so she could feel close to him. That screamed of desperation, and she would not accept defeat.

She was sitting in the living room, sipping her second cup of coffee, when she heard a vehicle drive up outside. Wondering if perhaps the operative Dylan had thought he was supposed to train really did exist, Jamie stood. When she heard the slam of the car door, she started toward the front door. She was in the middle of the room when Dylan entered.

Almost dizzy with shock and hope, she said, “What are you doing back? Did you forget something?”

“Yeah … kind of.”

“What?”

He came toward her and held out his hand. Her hopes soared, but, too afraid to believe that what she saw in his hand was real, she whispered, “What is it?”

Dylan was terrified; there was no other way to describe the feeling. He, who had faced some of the meanest and most vicious people in the world, was now trembling in fear. This beautiful, gutsy woman held his entire life in the palm of her hand.

After a sleepless night, his thoughts roiling like the ocean during a hurricane, he’d thrown every argument he could think of into his path, only to come to one final, inevitable conclusion: he couldn’t live without her.

McCall had said that Samara’s love made him a better man. Dylan didn’t know if that was possible for him. He only knew that Jamie made him want to be the kind of man who deserved her love. She had accused him of being afraid to take a chance on them, and she had nailed it. But fear or no fear … he couldn’t live without her. And if she said yes, he was going to make sure she never regretted her decision.

Wincing at the way his hands trembled, he opened the tiny box. “I wanted to surprise you in bed with it, but it took me a long time to pick it out.”

“Dylan?” she breathed softly, her voice full of surprised wonder.

The diamond solitaire engagement ring sparkled like sunshine—much like Jamie’s smile. “If you don’t like it, we can exchange it for—”

With a sob, she threw herself into his arms. As relief and a thousand other emotions almost swamped him, Dylan closed his arms around her and held her tight against his chest.

Raising her head to look up at him, she cupped his face in her hands. “I love you.”

He swallowed around the giant lump in his throat, took a shaky breath, and, for the first time ever, said the words “I love you.” Then, burying his face in her hair, he whispered, “God, how I love you.”

Hours later, snuggled in front of the fire, her head on Dylan’s chest, Jamie sighed with pure contentment. Never had she imagined she could be so happy. They hadn’t talked about the future or the past; they’d just existed in a state of euphoric bliss.

Dylan’s voice rumbled beneath her ear. “I need to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“Lance Reddington won’t be hurting any more women … ever.”

She lifted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I had a short but very frank talk with him. He’s going to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.”

Dylan had known how much she wanted Lance to pay for what he’d done. That hadn’t been possible, so instead, he had done the next best thing: he had made sure that Lance would never do to anyone else what he had done to her.

“Thank you.” She kissed his lips softly and put her head back on his chest.

His arms tight around her again, he said gruffly, “I wish I could have done more.”

“Knowing he’s not going to do it again or be able to carry on his father’s business is more than enough.”

“I have a question to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Swear that you’ll be completely honest?”

Jamie lifted her head again. “The deceit between us is in the past. From now on, full disclosure … for both of us.”

Pulling her close, he whispered, “Full disclosure,” and covered her mouth for a long and tender kiss. Minutes later, when their lips finally parted, Jamie groaned at the hot, slumberous look in his eyes. Even though she knew he wanted to talk, it was all she could do not to jump his bones then and there.

As if he could tell exactly what she was thinking, a small knowing smile played around his lips. To have Dylan smile like that, to see him so relaxed and content, did something to her already full heart. She could barely believe that they were sitting here together, contemplating their future, and that she had the most beautiful engagement ring ever created on her finger.

“You keep looking at me like that and we’ll have to put this discussion off for another hour or two.”

Yes, she wanted to make love to him again, but having Dylan wanting to talk and share confidences with her was too exciting not to pursue. “Want me to move away so I won’t be such a temptation?”