Wild Rain (13 page)

At least, it always had in the past.

“Reese—”

He looked at her, steeling himself against the possibility that he might see an apology in her expression, or worse yet, pity. No way could he handle that from her. Keeping his expression intentionally shuttered, he was only partially relieved to see that she was doing the same. Or at least trying to. She was just too damn easy to read.

He wondered how many times that had gotten her into trouble. How many times she’d been used, hurt because her emotions and thoughts were on
display for anyone with a little calculation and fewer morals to pick up on and use against her.

And how in the bloody hell had she managed to survive it all and still not have learned to shield herself?

“Can you pass me some of the water?” He lifted the medicine bottle to indicate what he wanted it for.

His hard look had prevented her from finishing whatever she’d been about to say. She silently turned to the water jug closest to her, uncapped it, then slid it across the floor toward him.

“Here. You might not want to drink too much—”

“I know we need to conserve water.”

“I wasn’t thinking of that so much as …” Her voice trailed off, and the most becoming pink color bloomed on cheeks that had gone pale the moment he’d made his proposition.

“Nature’s call,” he finished. “Good point.” He tossed the pills down without benefit of water. He hadn’t needed any in the first place, had asked only because it had been the most efficient way to shut her up. “Here.” He slid the bottle back to her. “Better recap it.”

She did and carefully positioned it where it had been, as if the entire structure of the room hinged on her getting it in exactly the right spot.

“Jillian.”

She stilled, but didn’t turn toward him.

Damn. Why were things so difficult with her?
“Maybe we should talk about what we might be facing in the next few hours. Come up with some plans in case …” She turned to face him. “You know, in case things don’t go smoothly.”

“You mean in case one of us gets hurt? Or dies?” She crossed her legs and shifted to fully face him. “Just because I’m not comfortable with intimacy doesn’t mean I can’t handle reality. Don’t tiptoe around me.”

“Strange, that.”

“What do you mean?”

“That life and death issues are easier to handle than personal ones.”

“You say that as if you’re not just talking about me.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Maybe. A little.”

“What, I look like a man who wears his emotions on his sleeve?”

She snorted. It wasn’t a ladylike sound. It made him want to laugh. It also made him more determined than ever to taste her again. Taste her smiles, her laughter. Her—

“It’s just that you seem very comfortable with your body. You’re in tune with its needs and demands.”

That got his full attention. He didn’t dare react. Did she have any idea she was handling explosives here?

“Knowing how to satisfy my sexual needs and
being intimate are two different things.” He could hardly believe he’d said that. Admitted that.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said thoughtfully.

“What, you don’t know?” He leaned in her direction. “Have you never just satisfied your body and not your mind?” He did it all the time. Every time, if the truth be told.

He noticed the stiffness creep into her spine and shoulders, the way her hands clutched at each other as she tucked her knees under her chin in the ultimate defensive posture. But her gaze remained hard on his, her expression making it clear she’d taken his question like a challenge. One she apparently intended to meet. But with obvious cost.

“I think I’ve always been so concerned with fulfilling the sexual needs of … of my … partner that, well, I’ve never really thought about mine.”

Oh, mite, he thought, what a waste. He started to speak but she went on, apparently needing to get it all out.

“As for intimacy, yes, I think I’ve had that.”

She thought?
Well hell, he wasn’t exactly an expert on the subject himself. Except to know when there wasn’t any.

“At least, I’ve wanted it. I mean, I’ve never had casual sex. Just for the …”

“Release? Orgasm?”

She looked taken aback by his harsh intrusion.

“No tiptoeing, remember?”

Her eyes narrowed.
Yeah
, he thought,
there’s my battler.

“Yes. And the answer is no. I’ve never had sex just for the orgasm.”

Her color heightened. In another woman, Reese would have read it as anger or defiance. And those emotions were present. But so was fear. Fear of discovery.

She’d never had an orgasm. He’d bet every one he’d ever had—every one he’d ever given—on it.

He thought back over his life and all the times he’d been with a woman. Take away the physical climax and what did he have left? Not much. Maybe nothing. Jillian had said she’d wanted intimacy in her relationships, but Reese doubted she’d found even that. So what had she gotten?

Less than nothing.

The realization hit him like a hard punch to the gut. Air suddenly became a precious commodity. His need for her had just gone from necessary to imperative. Not because he wanted to play macho stud and teach the little sexual ingenue about peaking in all its wonderful variations—though he wouldn’t deny the idea of awakening her turned him on in ways he’d never dreamed. No, he wanted her because the very idea of Jillian looking into the eyes of another man the first time she hit that crest was simply untenable.

And yet he wouldn’t be the one. Couldn’t be.

The revelation itself had been too powerful. Too stunning. Too potent. And he had a very disturbing notion that the price for being the one would be intimacy.

Even if he wanted to—and he didn’t want to contemplate that he might—it was a price he couldn’t pay.

Worse, it was a price he wasn’t certain he was capable of paying. His childhood had seen to that. And the years spent cleaning up the back streets of Miami certainly hadn’t changed it any.

And Jillian, with all her ghosts, and her battles so hard won and so painfully lost, deserved nothing less.

“Good on you, then,” he said at last. “You’re the lucky one.” He shifted slightly, hoping to ease the persistent ache between his legs, and forced his thoughts back to their more immediate problems.

He never had the chance.

A tremendous boom rocked the house, followed by horrific tearing sounds, as if the house was being rent in two like a piece of fabric. The noise became so loud, it hurt his ears. “Get near the middle stack of boxes!” Reese yelled as loud as he could. He reached for the edges of the mattress and yanked until one whole side caved in, then scooted around to the next side. Jillian saw what he was up to and moved to the edge nearest her and began to tug.

Reese’s first instinct was to order her back to the relative safety of the center of the room, but there was no time for arguing.

In minutes that seemed like years, they had pulled down all four sides of the heavy mattress to blanket them, with only a small stack in the center to lift the mattress and provide breathing space.

Reese reached out and pulled Jillian back against him. “Stay down, close to the boxes.”

He’d intended for her to curl up close to the center stack so he could curve his body around her, shielding her the best he could. Instead she turned to face him.

The screeching wail and moan of the wind made it difficult for him to hear what she was saying.

“What happened? Is the house collapsing on us?”

He pulled her against his chest and pushed her face into the crook of his neck, turning his head so his mouth was level with her ear. “Part of it’s gone. That’s why the sound is so much louder.”

She leaned up, her lips grazing his earlobe. Despite the adrenaline pounding throughout his system—or maybe because of it—his body leapt in response. Damn, she was so soft and sweet. And strong. And tough.

“What do you think our chances are, Reese?”

He pulled his head back, trying to look into her eyes. It was too dark. Any other woman would be falling apart, screaming, going starkers on him. Not Jillian.

She held him tightly, her body trembled, but her question demanded an honest answer. He gave her one.

“Not the best.”

He felt her still for a second, then let her head
rest once again beside his neck. The action was simple, and yet so very complex. She trusted him.

And he’d never in his life wanted to be worthy of a person’s trust like he did right then.

He let his hands drift up and down her back, tucked her legs in closer to his, the wound on his thigh the least of his concerns at this point.

“Reese?”

He bent his head closer to her lips. “Mmmmm?”

“Thank you.”

He pulled his head away in a sharp movement, looking down at her. “What in the hell for?”

She must have heard him, because she tugged him closer and spoke into his ear. “I know you were just doing your job, but I’m glad I’m not going through this alone. I’m sorry you’re here because of me.”

An ache formed in the center of his chest. Damn, here they were about to get done in by Ivan, and
she
was reassuring
him
. Apologizing.

“If I’d done my job, neither of us would be here. Don’t apologize,” he said gruffly. He wondered if he should tell her who had actually sent him here. If they weren’t going to make it, maybe it would bring her some peace to know that her mother cared enough about her to try and protect her.

He wished now he knew more of the history between them. He thought again of the photo
tucked inside the trash bag, stashed somewhere in the small room where they were huddled.

“Talk to me, Jillian. Take our minds off the storm.” He pulled her closer to him. She moved willingly and he discovered that it bothered him a great deal not to know whether she’d have done the same without the dire threat of the storm hanging over their heads.

Had another man been hired in his place, would she be in his arms right now?

He was the one going crazy now. And yet he couldn’t ignore the fierce gladness he felt that it was him, not any other man.

“I’m worried about Cleo,” she said, breaking into his erratic thoughts.

“Alligators survive hurricanes. She could be all right.”

“She’ll lose her nestlings.”

He let his hand drift into her hair, running his fingers through the short length over and over. “She can have more, can’t she?”

“Hard to say. She gets around okay with three legs. But I can’t know for certain she will mate again.”

He felt her sigh against him.

“Was there something special about these particular eggs, Jillian?” He wasn’t sure why he’d asked, just an instinct.

“Not really. At least, not to anyone else.” A light shudder passed through her slender body.
“Oh, Reese,” she sighed, the words coming out all wobbly.

She was going to cry now? After all that had happened and she was going to cry over some silly eggs? But they weren’t silly to her.

“Why are they special to you?” he asked gently.

“She struggled so hard to survive. I really thought I wasn’t going to be able to save her. And then I found out she was pregnant and …”

“What?”

“I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d pushed so hard so she could lay her eggs.”

“That’s not all that unnatural, is it? I mean, most animals’ driving force is to reproduce, right?”

There was a long pause. “Yes, it is.” Her voice had dropped a level or two. It pulled at Reese, making him want to ask her crazy things. Like if she’d ever wanted children. She’d make a great mom, he thought. Better than her own, probably. Certainly better than his. He’d never even let himself think about having a family. His own had been a nightmare of neglect while he watched his parents’ dreams slowly corrode away. A family of his own was a dream he’d never be able to do justice to, so there was no use torturing himself over it.

“I helped her lay the eggs,” Jillian said at length.

“You what?” he demanded. “Was she sedated or something?” So help him, if she said no—

“No, she—”

He gripped her shoulders. “What in the hell
were you doing? You’d be nothing more than a snack to her. And don’t give me any crap about you taming her. You told me you were planning on releasing her and you’d never do that if she’d been anything less than the predator she was born to be.”

Jillian had stiffened in his arms. He wondered for a half second if she would pull away. He didn’t even think about what his automatic response may have revealed about the way he felt about her.

Whoa. How did he feel about her?

His grip tightened. He wasn’t sure. But he did know that for the duration of the storm she wasn’t going to put so much as an inch between them. For now, that would be enough. He’d examine the rest later. If there was a later.

“When alligators lay their eggs, they are completely focused on it. No outside intrusion breaks in. Normally, I wouldn’t have interfered, but she was having trouble balancing and I was afraid she’d squash the eggs as they came out. So I helped prop her up so they would drop into the nest.”

Reese let out a deep breath. “Lady, you’re crazy.” He squeezed her in a short, tight hug. “But the animals are sure as hell lucky to have you on their side.”

“So you understand why I had to stay?”

There was such hope in her voice, he hated to deflate it. “Not really, Jillian. I know why she’s special to you, but—”

“I’d made a commitment to her, Reese. More of
one than I’ve made in a long, long time. I couldn’t move her. And I couldn’t leave her.”

Reese lifted her chin, staring down at her in the dark. “Your life is worth so much. Why risk it for one animal?”

“The same reason you’re here. It’s my job.”

It was a hell of a lot more than that, he knew. But he also heard the defensiveness in her voice, the dismissal. Whatever reason she’d had for confiding in him had disappeared. But she made no move to leave the shelter of his arms, and he forced himself to be content with that.

For several long minutes they remained silent, the ominous sounds of the storm raged around them. Reese tried to blank his mind and focus on anything other than the woman in his arms and all the conflicting emotions she’d dredged up in him.