"But what about the camels that lost their humps?" Maggie asked that night, her eyes wide. "Aren't they sad?"
"Some camels only have one hump. They haven't lost anything. They're just different."
Ashley bit back a smile. After ten minutes of grilling by her daughter, Jeff was still the picture of patience. He put down his fork and leaned toward her daughter.
"Remember the elephants you liked so much? There are two kinds of those, African and Asian elephants. It's the same with camels. Some have one hump and some have two."
They were sitting around the kitchen table at dinner. Ashley tried to ignore how good Jeff looked and the way the meal made her able to think of them as a family. They weren't a family. They barely knew each other. The fact that Jeff had insisted they all eat together was just him being nice.
She frowned. "Nice" didn't exactly describe his actions. Now that she thought about it, why did he want to eat with them? Not that she was complaining. Mealtimes were always interesting when he was around.
"Why are camels different?" her daughter asked.
Jeff hesitated, as if forming an answer. Ashley decided he might need a little help. Four-year-olds were nothing if not persistent.
"It's like dogs," she told Maggie. "There are many different kinds of dogs. Some are big, some are small. But they're all still dogs. There are two different kinds of camels."
"Do the camels with one hump feel sad because they're different?"
Jeff leaned toward her. "Maybe the two-humped camels are the different ones."
Maggie's eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. "I don't want the camels to be sad."
Ashley hadn't seen that one coming. But before she could reach for her daughter and offer comfort, Jeff shocked her down to her toes by gently pulling the little girl onto his lap. He held her securely, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.
"Are you sad because you have brown hair?"
Maggie tilted her head so she could stare into his face. "No," she said slowly. "Mommy says I have pretty hair."
"Mommy's right. So you're not sad about how you look because you look perfect for you. Camels are the same. They know they're exactly what they should be."
The tears disappeared as quickly as they'd arrived. "So camels are happy?"
"Nearly all the time."
Maggie beamed, then scrambled back to her seat where she picked up her spoon and went to work on her carrots. But Jeff didn't resume his own meal. Instead he continued to stare at the little girl.
"Maggie, you must promise me something. You must promise me to always be special and never change."
Maggie paused, her spoon half raised to her mouth. She grinned. "I'm gonna be a big girl soon."
"I know."
Something tightened in Ashley's chest. For the first time since she'd met Jeff Ritter, she knew what he was thinking. He was staring in wonder at her child and wishing life could always be exceptional for her. He wanted to protect her from all the bruises and scrapes she would encounter, both physical and emotional. Somehow little Maggie had found her way past Jeff's protective wall.
How was she supposed to resist a man who adored her daughter? To use her daughter's language, she would be very sad to leave this man. He'd only been a part of their lives for a short time, but he'd made an impact. When she returned to her already-in-progress life, nothing was going to be the same.
"What are you thinking?" Jeff asked, switching his attention to her.
"That Brenda was right. You're an honorable man."
He stiffened. "I'm no one's idea of a hero. Don't make me one."
She knew that there were ghosts in his past, but they didn't matter to her. He was honorable in the ways that counted. He would never leave a woman or a child in a bind. He was dependable. He wouldn't run off with the rent money, or borrow from a loan shark and disappear, leaving his wife to face the consequences. He was nothing like Damian.
Before she could explain what she meant, Jeff rose from the table. She glanced at his still half-full plate. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked. "It's been a long time since lunch."
"I have work."
He left the kitchen without saying anything else. Maggie stared after him.
"Is Uncle Jeff mad?"
"No, honey, he's just busy."
And conflicted. Ashley sensed the battle within him. She knew that they were the reason, but she didn't know why. Part of her wanted to go after him and talk, but a part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction. Jeff might be logistically dependable, but he was still risky in other ways. She was determined to only get involved with a man who could love her unconditionally. Jeff wasn't in a place to love anyone. Not until he'd dealt with his past. Attraction was acceptable-which was good because she couldn't control hers. But anything else was foolhardy. And she'd already been a fool for a man more than once in her life. She wasn't about to do it again.
"Kirkman is worried about a kidnapping attempt," Zane said the following week when he and Jeff met to discuss their upcoming job in the Mediterranean.
Jeff studied the diagrams spread out on the large conference table. "Kidnapping's the least of it," he replied. "At least then there's the chance he'll be held for ransom. They'd want to keep him alive. If I were him, I'd be more concerned about an outright hit."
Zane grinned. "You want to tell him that?"
"Not especially." Jeff leaned back in his chair and glanced at his partner. "But I will when I meet with him next week."
"Rather you than me. I suspect he's something of a screamer."
"Screamer" was the indelicate term used to identify clients who couldn't handle the reality of their situation. They didn't want to hear about the actual or potential danger, and they frequently resisted making changes in their lifestyle to keep themselves and their family safe. Yet they were the first to start screaming the second something went wrong, most often when it was their own fault.
"I don't doubt it." But screamer or not, Kirkman had to be dealt with.
Zane tossed his pen onto the table and looked at his partner. "So, tell me about the woman in your life."
"There is no woman."
"That's not what the rumors say. And I happen to know that you have a female living in your house with you."
"She works for me. She's my new housekeeper."
Zane raised his dark eyebrows. "And?"
"And nothing. Her name is Ashley. She used to work here in the office and now she works at my house. It's a business arrangement, nothing more." Even if he wanted it to be more, he wasn't going to act on the wanting. Because it would be dangerous for them both. He couldn't be what Ashley needed him to be, while she…
He returned his attention to the diagrams in front of him, even though he wasn't seeing anything remotely resembling the floor plan of the main villa. Instead he saw hazel eyes bright with laughter and inhaled a sweet scent he would remember for the rest of his life.
Ashley could be very important to him, he acknowledged. But he wasn't going to let that happen.
"What about her daughter?" Zane asked. "Kids can be tough to ignore."
Jeff smiled. "What would you know about children?"
"I know enough to avoid them," his partner joked. "And so have you, until recently. So what's going on, Jeff? If you keep this up, people are going to start thinking you're actually human."
It was an old joke-one that Jeff didn't find especially humorous. He also wasn't willing to answer any questions about Maggie. Not when the little girl was rapidly becoming important to him. Something had happened during the field trip to the zoo. Being with the children, taking care of Tommy when he'd skinned his hand, had cracked some part of his protection. Now Maggie slipped inside until he found himself thinking about her throughout the day, worrying about her. Would the teachers at the preschool remember to make sure she wore her jacket outside when she played? Did she finish her lunch? Had anyone treated her unfairly?
He still remembered when he'd actually taken her onto his lap to comfort her. His reaction had been pure instinct-and filled with more feelings than he cared to admit.
Both the Churchill females were making a mess of his life.
He pointed to the papers on the table. "We need the security plans finalized by the end of the week."
"No problem."
Zane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Like Jeff, he wore a suit and tie to the office. Unlike Jeff, he tended to relax during the day, rolling up his sleeves and loosening his collar. He tapped the pages in front of them.
"I can do this myself," his partner said quietly. "It's time to let me take charge. You know, leave it to the younger guys."
"Why?" Jeff knew he wasn't getting old or soft. What was Zane's point?
"I can do this," Zane insisted.
"That was never a question."
"Wasn't it? Then why do you take all the dangerous assignments for yourself? You leave me babysitting the wives, while you stake out the trouble spots."
Jeff studied his partner. The man was only three or four years younger, but sometimes the age difference felt like decades. Zane had a lot of the same experiences, but he was a sharpshooter and a tactician. He'd spent most of his military years planning the operations or taking out the enemy from a distant location.
Zane had had his share of kills, but less experience with the horror.
"I don't have family," Jeff said. "The guy who has nothing to lose volunteers for the most dangerous job. It's an old habit. One I've had trouble breaking."
Zane's dark eyes never wavered. "Like I have a family to go home to?"
Jeff shrugged. Zane didn't have anyone in the world, either. "So we're even."
Zane frowned. "I thought-" He hesitated. "Hasn't that changed? I mean with the woman and the kid."
"Nothing's different."
Jeff's voice and words were firm. It was true, he told himself. Absolutely true. Having Ashley and Maggie in his life didn't change anything. He ignored the whispering voice deep inside that reminded him he was lying. Nothing had changed, he insisted to himself. He couldn't afford to let circumstances be different. He had to remember what had happened with Nicole-and the dream. Always the dream.
"I'd like the chance," Zane told him. "You owe me that."
Jeff looked at him. "Free license to kill yourself?"
"Isn't that what this job is about? Putting it all on the line for the client?"
Jeff knew that was true, but what he couldn't explain was why it made sense for him to do it over and over again, but when Zane wanted the same, Jeff couldn't help thinking it was a waste.
"I was at the bookstore at lunch," Jeff said, standing in the entrance of the kitchen and shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Ashley stopped stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce. Her boss actually looked nervous. He wouldn't meet her gaze and there was a distinct hint of color tingeing his cheeks. The mighty hunter embarrassed about something? She moved toward him, both intrigued and charmed.
"I had long suspected you could read," she told him. "But thanks for the confirmation."
His mouth twisted. "That's not the point. I have a trip coming up in a few weeks. I wanted a book for the flight home."
She started to ask about the flight there, then realized he would probably spend that preparing for whatever assignment he might be involved with.
"Okay," she said. "Well, I hope you enjoy your book and thanks for sharing the information with me."
"You're mocking me."
She couldn't help smiling. "Maybe just a little. Why are you telling me this?"
"Because there was a display of kids' books and I bought one for Maggie."
He moved his left arm. As he did so she realized that he'd had his left hand tucked behind his back. He held up a pink-and-white gift bag overflowing with glittering pink-gold tissue paper. Obviously he'd not only bought the book, but he'd had it wrapped, as well.
"Is it okay?" he asked.
She knew he wasn't asking about the presentation, but instead about the gift itself. Which left her with her own questions. Did he want to know if it was okay to give Maggie a book, or okay for him to give her daughter a present at all? Maybe he didn't know which he was asking, either.
Her chest tightened slightly as she remembered what had happened the previous week when Maggie had been upset about camels and Jeff had comforted her. He'd reacted impulsively. She'd seen the shock in his expression when he'd realized what he'd done, but by then it was too late to stop. Maggie was settled on his lap, leaning against him. Trusting and small, she was impossible to resist. Ashley knew-she'd been unable to keep from loving her from the moment she'd first held her.
But she was supposed to love her child. She'd wanted to have a baby and had been excited when her daughter had been born. But what about Jeff? Did he want children? He'd told her he couldn't have them. He'd also said that Maggie wasn't a substitute for his own child, but she was growing less confident of that. Did the little girl fill a hole in his heart Jeff didn't even know was there?
Ashley wasn't sure how she felt about her boss connecting with her child. She liked knowing he had a soft spot, but was she creating a problem for all of them?
He stepped forward and set the book on the table. "You could tell her it was from you if that makes you more comfortable," he offered.
She shook her head. "You give it to her," she said, even as she wondered why Maggie's father couldn't have been half as open to her presence in his life.
Damian had never had any interest in his child. He'd seen her as one more drain on his resources.
Jeff picked up the bag and headed for the family room. Faint sounds of an afternoon cartoon drifted through the house. Ashley followed him, wanting to see what happened yet knowing she was putting herself in danger by doing so.
"Uncle Jeff!" Maggie bounced to her feet when she saw him enter the room. She pushed the mute button on the television and grinned. "Whatcha got?"
"A present."
Big blue eyes widened. "For me?"
"Maybe."
Maggie grinned. "It's for me. What is it?"
"Why don't you find out for yourself?"
He held out the gift bag. The little girl practically vibrated with excitement. She took the offering and reverently placed it on the coffee table. Carefully she pulled out the tissue paper, then reached inside for the book.
Only, it wasn't just a book. An oddly shaped box held a storybook and a stuffed pink kitten. Maggie's mouth worked, but she couldn't make any sound. Obviously Jeff had figured out that anything feline was her favorite.
"Please read to me," she said, thrusting the box at him.
He freed both the book and the cat, handing the latter to her, then settled on the sofa. Maggie plopped down next to him, her body leaning against his, her expression joyful and trusting. She cradled her new stuffed cat in her arms.
Jeff opened the book. "Once there was a pink kitten named Pooky Girl, which was a rather silly name."
Maggie tugged on his suit sleeve. "This is the bestest present ever," she said.
"I'm glad you like it."
Ashley turned away. It wasn't that she didn't want to hear about the adventures of Pooky Girl, it was that she didn't want either Jeff or Maggie to notice the tears in her eyes.
Why did he have to be so darn nice? He was making her like him more than she should. He was making her think of him as warm and caring. That, combined with how hot he looked in jeans or in a suit, not to mention the tango her hormones performed every time he was within spitting distance, was enough to make her crazy. And dangerously vulnerable.
Jeff couldn't be a part of her life. He was too different. He was scary, although even as she said the words, she didn't believe them. Not anymore. But while she might have changed her opinion about him, one thing had stayed exactly the same. He was dangerous to her plans for the future. She wanted love and she had a bad feeling that Jeff's heart had died a long time ago.
It was well after midnight when Ashley awakened. She couldn't say what had startled her from sleep. The house was silent, and when she got up to check on her daughter, Maggie was sleeping peacefully in her bed and holding her new stuffed cat in her arms. Ashley told herself it had been nothing and that she should just go back to bed, but something compelled her to pick up her robe and head for the stairs.
"Oh, right. Like I'm going to check all the windows and doors," she muttered softly to herself as she walked onto the main floor.
Jeff's house was a fortress. She didn't understand his complex security system, and she knew that everything was safe. Even so she had to see for herself.
She checked the kitchen and Jeff's study, then headed to the front of the house. As she crossed by the living room, she saw a shadow by the window. Her mind froze, but her heart recognized. The nanosecond of fear faded.
Jeff.
He was looking out into the darkness, studying the night, or perhaps staring into a past that she couldn't begin to imagine.
He wore jeans and nothing else. His back was broad, his skin smooth. Muscles rippled and bunched as he shifted slightly. She felt her mouth water, something that had never occurred while she'd been looking at a man. Chocolate, sure. There was nothing like the smell of the confection to get her salivary glands all excited, but she hadn't noticed the same man-generated effect until this moment.
She had the strongest impulse to cross the room and touch him. To stroke his bare skin, to press her mouth to his shoulder and taste him. A shiver rippled through her. It was just hormones, she told herself. She was in the middle of her cycle, so biologically she was predisposed to want sex. Mother Nature at work. But her desire didn't mean anything-not in the real sense of the word. It was interesting information she wasn't about to act on.
"I'm sorry I woke you."
Jeff's voice cut through the night, startling her. She hadn't realized he knew she was there. "No. You didn't. I just…" She couldn't explain how she'd come to be awake. "Sometimes I'm compelled to cruise through the house, making sure things are the way they should be. What's your excuse for being awake at this indecent hour?"
She'd made the comment lightly, but when he didn't instantly answer, she realized she might have crossed over some invisible line in their relationship.
"Sorry," she said quickly. "I was making conversation, not prying. You don't have to answer that."
"I don't mind." His voice was low and hoarse-as if speaking were difficult for him. "I have a recurring dream. It wakes me up and it's a while before I can get back to sleep."
She suspected his dreams weren't anything like hers in which she found out she had a final exam in a class she'd never attended or was supposed to pick up her daughter but suddenly couldn't remember the address of the preschool.
"Want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps." She made the offer without thinking, then thought about retracting it. After all, did she really want to know the deep dark secrets trapped in Jeff's subconscious?
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He still stood with his back to her. "I-" He cleared his throat. "There's a village. It's on fire. As I walk through it, I realize the people there are more frightened of me than of the destruction of the flames."
Ashley listened to the stark words as he told her what happened. She took a step toward him, visualizing the running children, hearing their cries of pain and fear. Her breath caught when he told her what he saw in the reflection of the shallow pool.
Not human? Is that what he really thought?
"No, Jeff," she said, moving closer still. "I'll admit that you're a little intimidating, and until I got to know you I thought you were a little scary, but I never saw you as other than a man. And Maggie's adored you from the beginning."
"She's very special."
"So are you," she told him. "You're not the easiest guy to get to know, but you have many wonderful qualities."
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "My ex-wife, Nicole, wouldn't agree."
"Then she's wrong."
He still faced the window. The room was too dark for her to see his reflection clearly, but she could see the shadow. He shook his head.
"Nicole saw the truth," he said slowly. "She knew what I was. She said she was glad we never had children together. She told me that the reason I couldn't have a baby wasn't because of my low sperm count but because I wasn't human anymore. I'd become a soldier and in the process, I'd forgotten how to be just a man."
"No," Ashley breathed, as she instinctively reached out and rested her fingers on his bare shoulder. "No, that's not true at all. You're just as human as the rest of us. Just as-"
Without warning, he spun to face her and grabbed her hand. His touch was strong and firm, but not bruising.
"Don't touch me," he growled. "Don't start something you can't finish."
For a second she thought she'd violated some fighter code. That touching him made him think he was being threatened and put her in danger. But then she noticed that he hadn't released her fingers and was instead rubbing them with his own. There was something sensual about the caress. Something that made her bones start to melt.
"Jeff?"
He stared at her and she wondered how she could have ever thought of his eyes as cold. They weren't cold at all. Instead fire raged in them. Fire and need and a hunger that made her lick her lips in anticipation.
She might not have a whole lot of experience with men, but she recognized the powerful desire ripping through him. He was a barely controlled, sexually ready male.
She should have turned and run for the hills. Or at the very least, her own bedroom. Wasn't there a lock on the door? Wouldn't she be safe there?
Except she found she didn't want to be safe. Not when the alternative was being held in Jeff's arms. She felt her own body flaring to life. Needs long denied awoke and stretched, making her ache.
Slowly, very slowly so he could know what she was about to do, she reached toward him with her free hand and placed her fingers on his chest. She felt warm skin, cool, crinkly hair and a faint tremor.
He swore and clutched her shoulders. "Ashley." The way he said her name made her want to purr. There was desperation in his voice, and a hunger that cried out from the soul. She raised herself on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
"I have every intention of finishing this," she murmured against his mouth. "So what are you waiting for?"