Jeff left his office with the Kirkman file under his arm. He knew he could have asked Brenda to do the research on the small town just neighboring the Mediterranean estate, but he needed something with which to distract himself. Something that would take his mind off Ashley.
They hadn't spoken that morning. Maggie provided a perfect buffer and he hadn't seen the point of trying to get Ashley alone for a few minutes of conversation. It was ironic. He who had faced numerous terrorists, enemy soldiers and certain-death assignments without flinching was nervous about talking with a woman. He grimaced. Nervous didn't begin to describe how he felt. He was flat-out terrified.
He didn't know why she'd agreed to make love with him last night. He'd told her about the dream; he'd bared something close to the truth about who and what he was. And yet she hadn't run away. Maybe she hadn't figured out what it all meant. Maybe that would come later.
He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to see her features tighten in disgust or fear. He didn't want her backing away from him when he entered a room.
And yet, despite all that could still go wrong, he wasn't sorry. How could he be? Last night had been perfect.
He stepped into the research room and settled at one of the specially programmed computers. Even as he typed on the keyboard, he thought about what it had been like to be with her. How she'd looked and felt and tasted. How she'd sounded. The way that she'd clung to him, losing herself in the moment.
No, he couldn't be sorry about that. Even if it meant that he could never sleep again.
He frowned slightly. The dreams lurked in the back of his mind, an ever-present enemy. He knew that they would extract their revenge for his temporary assumption that he could be like everyone else.
"Where's Brenda?"
The question came from behind him. Jeff turned and saw his partner lounging in the doorway to the research room. Zane raised a questioning eyebrow and continued, "Did she call in sick?"
"No. She's around."
Zane sauntered over to the chair next to Jeff's and took a seat. "So why are you in here?"
Jeff shrugged. "I had the time."
Zane didn't look convinced. "Are you all right? You haven't been yourself for the past few days and today it's worse."
"What are you talking about? What's worse?"
"I'm not sure." Zane studied him. "It's the woman, isn't it? The one staying at your house."
Jeff didn't think he'd been acting any differently, but obviously he'd been wrong. Zane was observant and he didn't make mistakes.
"Nothing's changed," he bluffed, knowing it was a lie. Having Ashley and Maggie come live with him was just the first of many changes.
"Don't get me wrong," Zane told him. "I think you having a woman around is a good thing. I'm all in favor of that. You need some normalcy."
Jeff didn't agree, but he wasn't about to argue. Ashley was dangerous to him because she distracted him. In his line of work, a distraction could cause a mistake. Just one misstep, one unnoticed detail, would mean the difference between living and dying.
Zane jerked his head toward the open door. "You ready for the meeting?"
Jeff glanced at his watch, then nodded. They had four new recruits going through orientation. A quiet, competent woman in her early thirties, and three ex-military men.
"What do you think?" he asked his partner as he closed his folder and followed Zane out of the research office.
"They're all right. The youngest of the three, Sanders, is a little gung ho for my liking. He still thinks the protection business is glamorous."
Jeff grimaced. "Just what we need. Someone stupid. How'd he get this far?"
"Great credentials and impeccable recommendations. They're genuine," Zane continued as he paused just outside the conference room. "I checked them myself."
Then they hadn't been faked, Jeff thought. Zane didn't make those kind of mistakes, either.
Jeff stepped into the conference room with Zane on his heels. Jack Delaney, former Secret Service agent and arms expert, nodded as his bosses walked to the front of the room. The four recruits sat at a conference table facing the podium. Jeff looked them over, noticing the even gazes that met his own. The woman sat a little apart from the rest. She had long red hair and a body that would make traffic stand still. He briefly wondered what had brought someone that good-looking to this line of work, then dismissed the question. Her appearance didn't matter if she was the best.
He glanced at the three men. The youngest was easy to pick out. He wore a grin the size of Texas.
"These are the men who sign your paychecks," Jack said easily. "Jeff Ritter and Zane Rankin." He nodded and stepped away from the podium.
Jeff took his place. He looked at each of the recruits, trying to size them up. Only two people would be hired and that decision wouldn't be made for at least a month. He and Zane were particular about whom they worked with. After all, the team members risked their lives together. To trust that much, everyone had to depend on each other.
"There is no room for mistakes," he said by way of introduction. "Nor do we bring our egos, our tempers or our prejudices to any assignment. Every job puts it all on the line. Before we invite you to join our company, we will attempt to find out your weaknesses, your faults and what makes your skin crawl. Because the kind of clients who employ us expect the best."
He paused to make sure he had their attention. "A British banker had handled some delicate foreign transactions a couple of years back. He noticed that there were some irregularities and traced them to the source. Along the way, he discovered his bank was being used to launder billions in drug money. The men responsible for the deposits were not pleased to be exposed. In an effort to keep the man quiet, they kidnapped his only child. The man's wife had died in childbirth. He had no other relatives."
Jeff leaned forward, resting his elbows on the podium. "A half-dozen kidnappers holding one small boy. There was no margin for error. As it turns out, we got lucky. A clean shot from a hundred yards. How many of you would be comfortable in those circumstances? No second chance, no room for errors."
He didn't wait for anyone to answer. "In case you're wondering why you didn't read about this in the paper, it's because that's how we prefer to work. While there is occasional press coverage, it's the exception rather than the rule. If you're in this for glamour, fame or a chance to get laid, tell me now."
This time he did pause.
The woman grinned. "Gee, boss, and I was so in it for the sex."
Her comment made everyone chuckle, easing the tension in the room.
"Kidding aside," Jeff said when the room was quiet again. "Each of you has to question if you have what it takes. The best operatives are loners. No connections, no ties. It's harder to be afraid when you have nothing to lose. Good luck."
With that he turned and walked out of the room. Zane would speak next, but Jeff had heard the speech a couple dozen times. Besides, he was too distracted by his own thoughts to pay attention.
He'd told the recruits the truth. It took having nothing to lose to stop being afraid. He'd lived by that code for years; it gave him his edge. But what if that had all changed? He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Ashley. She haunted him like a sensual ghost determined to win his soul. He couldn't afford the distraction. He couldn't afford to get involved.
If he felt pleasure, what would be next? Weakness? Hesitation? Would he worry about her to the point where he would hesitate a split second?
That wasn't an option. There was only one solution to the problem. He could never be intimate with her again.
Ashley knew she was grinning like a sheep but she couldn't help herself. There was something wonderful about the way her thighs hurt from what she'd been doing the previous night. Okay, yes, she knew that she and Jeff could never have a normal relationship. And yes, having an affair with one's boss, however brief, was never clever. But there was something to be said for a romantic, and slightly sexual, glow.
She felt as if she wasn't actually touching the ground when she walked. Everything seemed more brightly colored and nothing could upset her good mood. The downside was she'd had a darned difficult time concentrating in class. She'd found herself doodling Jeff's name instead of paying attention to the lecture.
She had it bad.
Ashley walked to the refrigerator to pull out the chicken she wanted to roast for dinner. As much as she wanted to be with Jeff again, she knew that it could never work between them. There was no future here. She wanted to make a safe haven for herself and her daughter. She had no clue as to what Jeff wanted, but she suspected it was something very different. He wasn't the kind of man who would love her more than anything. He would never promise to love her unconditionally, the way she would want to love him.
She froze in the act of removing the chicken from the shelf. Not that she was saying she loved Jeff. She didn't. She liked him a lot and she thought he was hot, which was very different from love. Jeff was not the man for her-he had a past that was too different from her own. They obviously couldn't make love again, even if he wanted to. She would have to tell him as soon as he got home.
Jeff couldn't remember another more cowardly act in his life. However potentially difficult or painful, he'd never taken the easy way out until tonight. Instead of coming home at his usual time and facing Ashley, he'd had Brenda phone to say he had to work late.
It was after eleven when he pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. The situation had been worse than he'd realized. Not only didn't he want to face her, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her while he'd been at the office. Despite his long hours, he hadn't gotten anything accomplished.
He climbed out of the car and headed for the house. As he'd driven up, he'd noticed faint light from behind the drapes, so he wasn't surprised to see that Ashley had left on a few lamps. As he crossed toward the kitchen, he tried to remember if he'd ever not come home in the dark.
He found a piece of paper waiting for him on the kitchen table. "Uncle Jeff" spelled out in very uneven, very large block crayon letters was followed by an arrow pointing to a plate with a slice of chocolate cake. The dessert looked too tidy to have been made by Maggie, but the welcoming note was pure little girl.
His chest tightened. He couldn't recall anyone ever doing something like this for him. Maggie had actually thought about him while he'd been gone. Had Ashley, as well?
His house was no longer empty and impersonal. He told himself it didn't matter, but it did. He told himself he shouldn't like it-but he did.
Swearing under his breath, he ignored the dessert and headed for the stairs. He had to get himself under control. Distractions weren't allowed. He promised himself the situation would get better with time. It had to.
She was waiting in his bed. Jeff stepped into the room and flipped the switch. Ashley lay curled up on top of the covers, one arm bent and supporting her head. She wore a lace nightgown that covered everything and concealed nothing. He forgot to breathe.
"Hi," she said, slowly pushing herself into a sitting position. "I wasn't sure what time you'd be home and I didn't want to miss you."
He couldn't speak. He could barely set down his briefcase. His throat was tight, his groin was on fire. He didn't care. He wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her slender curves and remembering what it had been like to make love with her.
"It's about Easter," she said. She sounded calm. She looked calm.
He blinked. He couldn't have heard her correctly. "Easter?"
"You know, that holiday we have in the spring? Maggie's been talking about it, as you may remember. The thing is, I always hide Easter eggs for her. I would like to know if it's all right for me to do that in your yard this year." She wrinkled her nose. "Unless it rains. That would be a drag."
He couldn't understand what she was saying. Didn't she know she was practically naked and making him crazy, lying there on his mattress? Yet she acted as if everything were perfectly fine.
"Use the yard," he managed to say. "For the eggs."
"Good. Also, when I talked to Brenda today, she invited us to brunch at her house. I hope you don't mind that I said yes. So I figured we'd do the Easter egg hunt, then go to church, then over to Brenda's. Of course if you object to church, you could meet us there."
He was losing his mind. "Brenda invited the three of us?"
Some of her calmness faded. He sensed her tension. Suddenly Ashley wouldn't look at him. "Yes, well, I thought that was odd. Then I figured she'd run it past you and you'd agreed."
Brenda hadn't said a word.
Ashley slid to the edge of the bed, then stood. She was barefoot and nearly naked.
"The thing is, I'd told myself I was going to be practical," she said, moving closer to him. Her hazel eyes glinted with humor. "Having an affair with my boss is not only crazy, it's potentially dangerous. I have goals, you have goals and they're not the same, right?"
He suddenly wanted to hear all about her goals. Instead he nodded.
"So it would be dumb to get involved."
As she spoke, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed off his jacket. The thick fabric slid down his arms and slipped to the ground.
She pressed her fingers against his chest. "But you're so darned cute when you're all stoic and soldierlike. I'm not sure I can resist that. There's also the way you're patient with Maggie and incredible in bed. All that attention focused on what I want. Call me spineless. One minute I was getting ready to crawl between my own sheets and the next I was here. Want me to go away?"
Instead of answering with words, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded the instant his mouth brushed hers, leaning into him and groaning softly. Desire filled him, making his blood heat and his arousal flex against her belly. He wanted her. He'd been fooling himself by thinking he could share the same house and ignore her.
He swept his tongue against her lower lip. She parted for him, but he waited before entering, brushing back and forth until she trembled. Only then did he slip inside and taste her sweetness.
She clung to him. Bodies pressed, heat flared, need grew. He felt the rapid pounding of her heartbeat and knew that his own beat just as fast. Desperate for more, he broke the kiss so he could nibble his way along her jaw and down her throat. She groaned and arched her head back.
"Jeff," she gasped. "You don't have to do the Easter thing if you don't want to. I mean I won't change my mind about wanting to make love with you."
He couldn't help chuckling as he tugged on her lace nightgown. "I'll do the Easter thing," he said softly, pulling down her short sleeves and baring her to the waist. "Right now I'll promise to do anything you want."