In the Line of Fire Read online

  On the way here, he’d scanned her social media accounts and Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter all assured him, and the world, that she was on a three-month business trip to Spain, looking for new and exciting artists to exhibit in her brother’s gallery. Jett knew how easily those posts could be faked but the lack of incense, and the lack of her spicy perfume, both of which she was addicted to, confirmed she hadn’t set foot in the apartment for a few weeks.

  Neither had she, thank God, changed the access code to the system Jett installed for her back when they were engaged, back when he thought he had a chance at the family he so wanted. He’d made some plans—they’d move to a bigger, more secure apartment in time but this system would keep her safe when he wasn’t around.

  His not being around led to him not being around permanently.

  Then Samantha Stone walked into his life...

  Jett maneuvered Sam into the sitting room and turned away from her to switch on a side lamp. As light flooded the room, and for the first time since leaving the cocktail party, he took more than ten seconds to look at her. Her face was devoid of color and her eyes, scared and exhausted, dominated her face. She had marks on her lips from the imprint of her top teeth and the fingers gripping her biceps trembled.

  Sam was about to, mentally and physically, fall over.

  “Does the owner of this apartment know that we are here?” Sam asked, her voice trembling.

  Well, no. What was the point of telling Gemma? They’d only be here for a day or two before he moved them on and he’d sanitize the place before they left. She’d never know that her space had been invaded and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  Sam would be safe here for a day or two and that was all that mattered.

  But he wouldn’t lie to Sam so he didn’t answer her question. “Why don’t you take a shower and then climb into bed?”

  Sam gestured to her limp gown. “I don’t have any clothes. You hustled me out of my house at speed.”

  There was that. Oh, well, Gem would be lending Sam some clothes as well as her apartment. “I’ll find you something to wear. Go jump into the shower, Sam.”

  Sam just stared at him, seemingly unable to get her legs to function. Jett sighed. He’d seen this before; sometimes the events people experienced were just too much and the only way to deal with them was to shut down and clock out.

  He’d been trained to work through the horror, to push through the adrenalin highs and lows, to compartmentalize and rationalize. While Sam wasn’t a novice at crime scenes, she’d never had her life threatened and she was rattled.

  Jett stepped up to Sam and pushed her coat off her shoulders, allowing the fabric to drop to the floor. Ignoring the plunging neckline and her bare shoulders, he held her hand and looked down at her feet. “Step out of your shoes, honey.”

  Sam kicked off one silver heel, then the other and she dropped two inches in height. Taking her hand, Jett led her down the hallway to the end room, pushing open the door to Gemma’s bedroom. He hesitated, he’d made love to Gemma in this room, in that bed. He quickly pushed those thoughts away. He’d proposed to her one morning while they were drinking coffee, the summer sun streaming in through those big windows. He hadn’t loved her, Jett admitted as he pulled Sam past the big bed covered in cushions—he did not miss having to remove a dozen cushions before he could climb into bed—but he’d loved the thought of her, the thought of returning from a mission and having a woman waiting for him, happy to see him.

  “I’m so cold, Jett,” Sam murmured.

  “I know, honey.” Jett placed his hand on the bathroom door and pushed Sam into the small space. Reaching into the shower stall, he flipped on the hot tap and turned back to Sam, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

  “Take a shower, you’ll feel better.”

  Sam looked up at him, her eyes big and haunted. She lifted her hand and her fingers skimmed over the stitches on the side of his head. “Your poor head, Jett.”

  “It’s just a scratch, Red,” Jett replied. Steam filled the bathroom and Jett finally, for the first time in hours, started to relax. “I’m good, we’re all safe. Stone will arrange for someone to patch up your house.”

  Sam’s hand smacked his chest. “I don’t care about my house! You could’ve been killed, Jett!”

  Was she worried about him? Jett looked down at her and saw the terror in her eyes. For the first time, he realized her fear wasn’t for herself or her house but for him. It shouldn’t make him feel warm and fuzzy but it did. God, help him, it really did.

  “But I wasn’t, Red. I’m fine,” Jett said, his voice husky.

  Sam gripped the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and twisted the fabric in her fists. “It was so damn close.”

  He’d had closer shaves but, since Sam was resting her forehead on her fists and was shaking, he didn’t think it was the right time to be blasé about dying.

  Jett gently opened her fists and held her hands in his. “Sam, I’m fine. You’re fine. Jump into the shower and I’ll find you something to wear.”

  Seriously, do it, because if you keep looking at me with those big eyes, we’re both going to get naked and I’ll burn those memories from your brain with another type of heat.

  “Are you going to leave? Please don’t leave me.”

  Jett cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to her forehead. He was so damn tempted to pull her to him, to strip her naked, and push away her fears with his touch. But if he did that, he’d be taking advantage of her and while he could be hard-ass and stubborn, he hoped he wasn’t a complete bastard. “I’ll be outside. I’m not going anywhere.”

  For a minute, he wanted to believe that statement, to sink into the knowledge that they’d always be together, that she would always be at his side.

  But that was stupid thinking. He was super reluctant to risk losing someone again. Besides, Sam didn’t date men like him.

  Devil, meet deep blue sea.

  “Take a shower, Sam,” Jett said and stepped away from her, his feet feeling like leaden weights. Physically, he wouldn’t leave her but he’d better, for both their sakes, put some emotional distance between them.

  Sam walked into the fuchsia colored kitchen and blinked at the aqua cupboards and the bright yellow appliances. Thank God she didn’t have a hangover or else she’d be whimpering like a beaten dog.

  “Is the owner of this place on crack?” Sam asked, placing her hand over her eyes as she pulled out a stool from the kitchen counter.

  On the other side of the island, Jett, wearing a gray sweatshirt with his tuxedo pants, scowled at an ancient coffee maker.

  A slight smile touched his face. “Gem likes color. She also has a fondness for this stupid ass coffee machine. It led to some of our biggest fights.”

  He spoke of this unknown “Gem” with a touch of wistfulness and definite fondness.

  “Girlfriend?” Sam asked, ignoring the burning sensation under her rib cage.

  “Ex-fiancée,” Jett replied, his tone even.

  “Oh.”

  Oh... Shit. He’d been engaged? Well, hell. She didn’t think men like Jett, hard-assed, super competent, super skilled men—the top of their field—got engaged. They weren’t the stay at home types.

  “You look surprised,” Jett said, his forearms on the counter and his hands linked.

  “I guess I am,” Sam admitted. “I didn’t take you for the settling down type.”

  “I thought, briefly and mistakenly, that I could be both a soldier and a husband but Gemma wanted more than a part-time partner, someone who dropped in and out of her life.”

  Sam heard the note of hurt in Jett’s prosaic statement and sympathized. “You loved her.”

  Jett stood up and pushed his hand through his wet from his shower hair. He waved his hand from side to side. “I loved the idea of being married, of belonging to someone. I was more gutted about losing the dream than the woman.”

  “And that’s not something you’re dreaming abo
ut anymore?” Because if you say no—and I need you to—you’ll squash the occasional, and annoying, thoughts I’m having about you and me and a future.

  Jett shrugged. “I’d need to reconcile myself to having a desk job, to sitting still and to staying in one place for more than a nanosecond. I don’t see myself doing that anytime soon.”

  “But your assignments with Pytheon are a lot shorter. They don’t, generally, last for more than a couple of weeks.”

  Jett sent her a cocky smile. “Are you trying to convince me to try a relationship again? With you?”

  Sam sent him a “get real” look. “Not me. I don’t date men who have dangerous jobs, remember?”

  And last night’s events had driven that point home. Jett’s instinct had been to chase down the bad guy, to hurtle into a dangerous situation and it was only by chance that he’d been held back. If he followed his initial instinct, he’d be in a million pieces all over her street right now. Accountants and lawyers might not be half as exciting but she didn’t have to worry about crying at their funeral.

  Jett stood up, gave her a small smile and turned back to the coffee pot. He poured and pushed the mug toward Sam. “No milk, I’m afraid. There’s sugar if you want it.”

  Sam shook her head, needing the jolt of caffeine without any enhancements. Sam took a sip, shuddered, and wrapped her hands around the mug.

  She looked around and sighed. “I should be in my own bed, drinking my own coffee.” She looked down at her mug and wrinkled her nose. “And there would be milk.”

  Sam pushed her hand into her hair, her fingers snagging on the curls. “I keep thinking of him watching us walk to the door; I still feel his eyes on us. We could be dead, Jett.”

  Jett nodded, looking infuriating calm. “Yep. But I think you nailed it last night when you said that he likes to play games. That’s exactly what he was doing or was ordered to do.”

  “You don’t think it was The Recruiter himself?”

  “He doesn’t do his own dirty work,” Jett said, thoughtful. “If he can get someone else to take the risk and commit the crime, and thereby distancing himself, that’s what he’s going to do.”

  “But he nearly killed you! That’s not a game.”

  Jett placed his coffee cup on the counter and drummed his fingertips on the granite surface. “But you were safe, the entire time. Look at the situation from his point of view; if I was taken out, or injured, he’d assume that he’d have a better chance of getting to you. If I’m killed, arrested, incapacitated, the assumption is that my guys would be distracted, that they would spend their energy worrying about me and there might be a chance that they’d slip up and you, Seth, or Stone would be vulnerable.”

  “And would that happen?”

  It was a fair question but Jett still scowled at her. “I’d kick their asses if it did. We’re better trained than that. They’d complete the mission first and worry about me, or mourn me, later.”

  Sam’s heart curled up and it whimpered. “I hate the way you talk about your death as it being so inevitable.”

  “Death is inevitable,” Jett calmly pointed out.

  “When you’re old, sure,” Sam responded.

  Jett rubbed the back of his neck. “Sam, we were kids when it happened but everyone was touched by the 9/11 tragedy. As a result of that day, and because of the hundreds of terrorist attacks around the world since, we know that there are no guarantees and bad shit happens.”

  Sam nodded reluctantly. “I know that, logically and intellectually, but I still don’t like your cavalier approach to death. I’m not half as comfortable with the concept of loss of life as you seem to be.”

  “Accepting not comfortable,” Jett corrected her. “What’s stopping you from accepting that truth on an emotional level? Is it because both your parents have passed away?”

  Sam scratched the top of her head, her eyes closed. She could agree, it would be a rational explanation, one that Jett would buy. But she didn’t want to share half-truths with Jett. He was an all or nothing type of guy and he deserved—especially after nearly getting his head blown off—the truth. “Losing my mom when I was young and my dad before I was twenty-five, I do feel cheated. There’s so much they’ve missed out on, so much time I’ve lost with them. It also didn’t help that I lost my first boyfriend as well.”

  Jett winced. “Shit, I’m sorry, Sam.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Jett asked a couple of beats later.

  Maybe she should, maybe if she did he would understand why she could never date him, date anyone who did what he did. “My dad set up Pytheon ten or so years ago, I was nineteen. He had a couple of operatives and Pete was one of them. I didn’t know much about what Pytheon did—I still don’t—but I met Pete at a function my dad hosted. I thought he was who he said he was, a guy with a degree in journalism who was trying to sell his travel program idea to a network.”

  “Good cover,” Jett commented.

  “Yeah, it was. Seth’s best friend, Jed, also used it when he went to work for Pytheon. They both got into many places they shouldn’t have with their cameras. And charm.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was in Thailand. A bomb went off and, instead of running away, he ran to help the injured. Ten minutes later another bomb detonated in the same place, killing the survivors of the first bomb and numerous first responders.” Sam stared at Jett’s hand, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. “He ran into the mayhem instead of running from it and, while I get that he’s a hero, he’s also dead and I lost the first man I loved and who loved me.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Jett murmured, moving his hand so it just touched hers. Jett’s finger linked with her baby finger and that small touch offered an immense amount of comfort.

  “Like you, like most of the Pytheon operators, he ran into trouble, placed himself in situations that were dangerous. He paid the price.” Sam made herself meet his eyes. “That’s why I get a little tense when you are so blasé about death.”

  Jett lifted his hand to run his knuckle down her cheekbone. “Would it help to tell you that, while it seems like I don’t, I calculate my odds every single time before I run into a hot situation?” Jett looked wry. “We all do. It happens fast but we do calculate the odds and if they are bad, and depending on what’s at stake, we either run in or find another way to achieve our objective.”

  “Pete didn’t.”

  “Sometimes bad things happen to good people and he did what he thought was right. I promise you, Red, he’s not sitting on the other side whining, saying things like ‘fuck, I really regret saving those people, getting them to safety because I want to be on earth paying bills and taxes.’”

  Sam smiled at that image. And reluctantly admitted Jett was right. Pete had saved lives and he’d never regret that. She didn’t regret it either; she just wished he’d managed to save his own as well.

  But what was done was done and she couldn’t wish him back. She had to deal with the here and now and what she could control and that was protecting herself from Jett and allowing him to protect her from The Recruiter. That was what they had to focus on.

  “If someone from Pytheon is feeding The Recruiter information, we’re sitting ducks, aren’t we?”

  Jett shook his head. “I took the batteries and sim cards out of our phones and we’re safe enough, for now. Nobody will connect me to Gemma and this apartment; I was still active when we were together and she understood that talking about me, on social media or anywhere else, would compromise my safety so she didn’t. Her friends knew she was engaged but never met me and I never met her family.”

  “Interesting relationship,” Sam said, her tone dry.

  “Which is why it didn’t work,” Jett agreed. He took their empty coffee cups and glanced at his watch. “I’m going to run some errands, buy some supplies, some clothes.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Sam said, not wanting to be left alone.

  Jett looked at her hair a
nd shook his head. “It would be better if you stayed here. That pretty face is well known in the city and your hair grabs attention.”

  “I can put it under a cap,” Sam quickly responded. She really didn’t want to be left alone.

  “I can move much faster on my own, Sam. Stay here, please?”

  Sam stared down at her bare toes and rocked on her heels. She wouldn’t admit she was scared to stay by herself, that she felt better and stronger with him at her side. She wouldn’t put that much pressure on him. He was dealing with enough problems without her acting like a whiny, clingy brat.

  “Hurry, okay?”

  Jett walked around the counter and hooked his arm around her neck and placed his mouth against her temple. “Promise.”

  Sam wound her arms around his waist and leaned into his warm, muscled bulk. “And find us another place to stay, okay? We can’t stay here.”

  “It’s empty and it’s safe,” Jett countered as she knew he would.

  Sam wondered if she should verbalize the words on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to feel alive, to celebrate life, to touch and be touched. She wanted to taste and tease and hold and be held. She wanted to soar, move, feel life...

  She could do all that, and more, in Jett’s arms. She wanted him and she didn’t want to wait. Life had become infinitely more precious and she wanted to seize the day.

  Tomorrow was not guaranteed.

  Sam opened her mouth to explain but, at the last minute, she pulled back the emotion. She might be feeling all mushy and thankful and shaky but Jett was cool and collected, as she expected a Special Ops guy to be. Her emotion was hers to deal with.

  So Sam smiled and cracked a joke. “This room is so bright I fear we might go blind from color poisoning,” Sam said, feeling Jett’s mouth curve against her skin. “But that’s not the main reason why I want to move on.”

  Oh, man, what if he said no? Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with her... Then Sam felt his hard cock against her hip and she relaxed a fraction.