Blind Fury Read online

  His easy attitude toward killing others—even if they were the enemy—bothered her, but she supposed it was hard to stay objective when your life was in danger day in and day out. And then the tough guy had surprised her with his sensitive side, asking about her own upbringing in northern Virginia.

  And speaking of sensitive, he must have noticed her goosebumps, because his hands slid along her arms as he tugged her back against his chest, instantly chasing away the chill. Her belly did a slow flip while her heart danced to a nervous beat. She hardly knew him, but the attraction was almost animal.

  In an attempt to distract herself, she looked back at the memorial and said, “I think this is my favorite too. I’ve been down here dozens of times, but never at night. It’s surprisingly beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping his warm arms around her.

  A shiver chased across her skin. He was so big and strong and hard, and she thought briefly about Mick’s concerns. But she’d seen nothing tonight to make her worry. Maybe she should be scared, but instead, she wanted to peel away his layers and learn more. Did he like dogs or cats? What kind of music did he listen to? What turned him on?

  Well, actually, based on the evidence pressed tight to her lower back, she was pretty sure she did. It was either her or the ghost soldiers.

  She rotated in his arms and ran her palms along the brick wall of his chest, feeling every ridge and ripple as she worked her way down his ribs. His hold tightened around her waist and he cradled her head in his giant hand. She had only a second to register the desire in his dark eyes before he captured her mouth.

  His lips were soft but insistent, his tongue molten as he licked and teased his way inside. Her body buzzed with energy and heat pooled between her thighs as she and Colin waged intimate battle.

  He won.

  She wanted to climb him like a tree, wrap herself around him, and feel him deep inside. She was wanton and mad. God, what the hell was wrong with her?

  He cupped her ass, and she forgot to care.

  He broke the kiss with a low groan, his breath coming fast and heavy. “Stay with me tonight.”

  “It’s nine a.m., Jay.”

  Jenna’s eyes popped open to see Mick’s face just inches away from hers. Close enough to kiss. And, oh God, how she wanted to know what he tasted like. Last night, she’d been too tired and numb to want anything but comfort, and he’d surprised her by sensing that. Now, though, wide awake in the light of day with his warm breath on her neck, something coiled in her belly at the sight of him.

  He watched her, his pupils dilating until only a small ring of bright blue remained. “Breakfast is ready,” he said.

  And then, just like that, he stood, breaking the spell he’d cast. Why did he always have this effect on her? He was like fire. He mesmerized and danced and teased, but if she ever gave in and grabbed hold, she was sure she’d get burned.

  Despite the goodness she could see in him, she knew deep in her soul that he’d break her heart if she let him. But the more time she spent with him, the less she cared. Which was stupid. She gave herself a mental shake. Lust was a fool’s game, and she was better than that. When she finally gave her heart to a man, it would be for keeps, and he wouldn’t be an unpredictable adrenaline junky like Mick.

  Besides, she had more important things to think about, like who was gunning for her. The only important thing was to get her life back. She shot to her feet and grabbed her clothes from the coffee table where Mick had left them folded after they came out of the dryer.

  Somehow it seemed fitting that all she had left in the world was wash-and-wear funeral clothes.

  More aware of her surroundings this morning, she took in the decor of his home as she crossed the small living room. The condo had crown moldings, neutral colors, and plush beige carpeting, but that’s where the designer touches ended. The only furnishings were the green futon she’d slept on, a scarred coffee table, two stools at the breakfast bar, and the huge flat-screen TV on the wall. No pictures, knickknacks, or plants. The word sterile popped to mind.

  As she headed to the master bath through the bedroom, it became instantly clear that this was the only room where Mick worried about making an impression. A cherry sleigh bed took center stage, flanked by matching nightstands and neatly covered with a dark maroon bedspread. This room had probably welcomed more women than a gynecologist’s office.

  Pushing away the unwelcome thought, she ducked into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

  Five minutes later, she sat at the granite breakfast bar, fork in hand. She had to admit that Mick made a mean omelet. Who knew he could cook? Somehow she’d slept through all of his banging around in the kitchen.

  “That was delicious,” she said. “Thanks.”

  He grinned and she ignored the extra thump of her heart. If only she could ignore him. That would have made life a lot easier. And she could use some easy for a change.

  Her chest still hurt at the thought of everything she’d lost, so she decided not to think about it, to focus on making lists instead. A master list of everything she needed got her started, followed by smaller sublists for things like potential apartment complexes, clothing basics to replace, and personal essentials she needed to pick up.

  The only short list would be the one with ideas for who was after her and Mick.

  She scooted back from the bar and cleared her dishes. “Do you have anything on your schedule for today?” Probably a hot date with some on-again off-again local girl, in which case, she didn’t want to know. “I need to do some shopping, but I could rent a car. Now that my house is toast—” She stilled. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I said that.”

  Hysteria forced up little bubbles of laughter and she swiveled away from him, stricken that she could laugh about it. She didn’t feel like laughing. What the hell was wrong with her? She covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hold back the unwanted sounds.

  “It’s okay, Jay. Happens all the time when our brain can’t process something.” He rested a warm hand on her shoulder. “When I was seventeen, my mom and I got rear-ended at a stoplight. I laughed until the paramedics came. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t stop. She was pissed as hell, and I’m not sure she ever forgave me for it, even though the medic said it was pretty common.”

  She closed her eyes and focused on his smooth voice and reassuring touch. “Thank you,” she said, dropping her hands as the manic giggles finally subsided.

  “No worries. And my calendar is clear for the foreseeable future, so I’m all yours.”

  Until he left again. And he’d never be all hers. “When are you going back?” she asked.

  “Eager to be rid of me already, huh?” When she didn’t return his smile, he cleared his throat. “I promised Rob I wouldn’t go back, but I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do next.” Pain crossed his face for a fraction of a second, but he quickly masked it with a smug grin. “I’m sure I’ll find something that’s in my wheelhouse. Apparently, Dan knows a guy who’s a flight medic. Or I might look into firefighter jobs.”

  Of course. He didn’t talk much about his childhood, but she knew it had been rough. Was that why he always pushed his limits? Was he trying to prove something, or just running away? She held in a sigh. “Well, I should be able to find a furnished apartment in the next few days, and then I can get out of your hair,” she said. Rebuilding her life would be a lot easier without him around as a distraction.

  “Skip the apartment search for now. I want you here until we get this figured out. This place is already set up with security. Plus, I know the emergency exits, where my weapons are, and how someone would approach.” The warrior came out as his spine stiffened and his jaw hardened. “I can protect you here.”

  He’d already lined up his strongest arguments without waiting for her to protest. Helplessness crept over her, heavy and thick as a wool blanket, her sense of control slipping out of her grasp. “And how long do I have to sleep on yo
ur lumpy futon before you declare that I’m safe to reenter the world?”

  His gaze flicked to hers and he hesitated. Was he remembering how entangled they’d been earlier that morning? She couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes just inches from hers, his mouth so close…

  “We don’t have to hole up in here, we just need to be careful. I can’t be sure your home was the only target. I don’t want to scare you, but please do this for me. I promised—”

  She waved him off. “Yeah, I know. You promised Rob. You were busy making promises, weren’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “But Rob never asked for my permission. Maybe I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. I told you I’m not going to hold you to it. You’re free to move on to your next death-defying job, and I can try to get my life back in order.”

  He shook his head. “You’re stuck with me until I think you’re safe. If you leave, I’ll just follow you.”

  She huffed, not sure of what to say. The playboy had become a rock. For years, he had let her and everyone else underestimate him, never appearing to take anything too seriously. He was always the life of any party, telling dirty jokes and funny stories about his friends, making sure everyone in the room got his attention at some point during the night. Even Rob’s shy, nerdy little sister.

  But now she was seeing a new side of him. She’d seen evidence of his integrity before, but she’d never experienced its full effect. Maybe she finally understood why Rob had trusted Mick with his life. And hers.

  Because he was there when it mattered.

  “Is the futon really that bad?” Mick asked.

  How could he not have noticed? She nodded.

  “Then you take the bed tonight.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  He flashed his familiar playboy smile at her and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?” She must have looked mortified because he laughed. “Kidding.” He thumped the back of the makeshift bed. “Trust me. I’ve slept on worse.”

  After clearing her breakfast dishes and cleaning up Mick’s kitchen, Jenna called Tara to fill her in on the latest disaster. She almost didn’t leave a message, but she didn’t want Tara to worry if she heard about the explosion on the news.

  With that out of the way, she and Mick braved the mall. After working her way through four clothing shops, lunch, and the computer store, she was ready to quit. “I hate shopping.”

  Mick raised an eyebrow as he held up two large bags. “I thought women loved to shop.”

  “I lost my girl card ages ago. I think Tara took it by force and ripped it to shreds.” She just couldn’t muster enough interest in clothes or shoes to spend hours searching for the perfect item. Not that she didn’t want to look good, but it took way too much time and money to get the flawless fashionista look Tara had perfected. More than she was willing to spend. “I’m more of a homebody than a homecoming queen.”

  “Quiet girls have their own appeal.”

  “Maybe.” That wasn’t her experience though. When she and Tara went out, Tara was the draw for the men who came to their table. Jenna was the consolation prize. And it went beyond looks. She didn’t know how to flirt without feeling ridiculous.

  She preferred to go slowly, getting to know a man as a friend first so she wouldn’t be all hormonal and idiotic around him, trying too hard to impress. She wanted to be liked for the real her. Uptight, cautious, and bookish. Yeah, she was a hell of a catch.

  “Is there anything else you need right now?” Mick asked.

  “You mean besides a house, a car, and a life?” She hefted the bags weighing her down. “No. This will have to do.”

  Mick’s mouth tightened into a grim line and he nodded. “All right. Home then.” He slid his car keys from his front pocket and steered them toward the exit.

  His eyes were alert, cataloging everyone who passed. No one paying any attention could mistake him for a casual shopper. In spite of the bags he carried, she had the sense that he was ready for anything, hyper-vigilant and prepared to spring into action if needed.

  Even though it chafed to let someone else take charge, which was the very reason she dreamed of working for herself someday, she couldn’t help but appreciate the sense of security that Mick’s presence provided.

  “Can we stop and get my mail on the way back?” she asked.

  They reached his car and he popped the trunk before looking at her. “Are you sure you’re ready to see the place in daylight?”

  “No.” But the mail was a small connection to her old world. The one where everything was still normal. “I’ll get a P.O. box later to make it easier, but I still want to pick up my mail today.”

  She spent the rest of the short drive watching the forest speed by. White dogwood flowers lit up the near-leafless stands of trees, seeming to float among the bare branches as if by magic. She had always loved the promise of spring. She could really use some of that promise right about now.

  When they reached her building, she gaped for a minute at the burned-out shell where she used to live. She and Mick could have so easily been inside when it blew up. Too easily…

  “Hey.” Mick covered her hands, which she hadn’t realized were shaking. “You’re okay.”

  With a nod, she hopped out of the car, determined not to dwell on what could have happened. Like he said, she was okay. Still, she didn’t look at the soot-blackened space again. She just blindly grabbed the thick stack of mail in her box, shoved it into her tote bag, then slid into the car and let Mick drive away.

  They finished their errands—including a side trip to a jewelry store to pick up Mick’s recently repaired watch—grabbed takeout, and made it back to the condo without any obvious tails. His building was in a great location within walking distance of shopping and restaurants. Perfect for a bachelor on the go. When he was in town.

  The scent of ginger filled the small space as she opened the bag from the Chinese restaurant they’d hit on the way back. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation while she pushed aside her lists to make room at the breakfast bar, setting out place mats, bowls, and utensils before prying open her little white boxes.

  She scooped rice into her bowl and dumped half of her cashew chicken on top. “Do you think they’re done following us?” she asked before taking a bite.

  Mick joined her at the counter, topping his rice with beef and broccoli. “Hard to say. They could’ve just been watching us to make sure they weren’t interrupted at the house. But that doesn’t explain the explosion. I don’t know if it was triggered by the door and set on a delay, or if it was supposed to happen before we arrived. We can’t assume you’re safe.”

  “Could it be an accident? A gas leak or something?” She didn’t really think so, but she clung to a sliver of hope.

  A scowl marred his handsome face. “Could be, but it’s too much of a coincidence for something like that to happen after the place was ransacked.”

  She nodded. “They had to be after something, don’t you think?”

  “Sure seems like it. But what?”

  What indeed? “I didn’t see anything strange in Rob’s bag, but there was that missing memory card. I wish I knew what was on it.”

  Lost in vague thoughts about the culprits, she chowed down, scraping the sides of the paper box to get every last bit of chicken into her bowl. It was like she had a hole in her stomach. Or maybe she was trying to fill the void in her heart with food.

  What she really didn’t understand was why someone would target her. The idea should have seemed preposterous, but it was hard to argue with an explosion…or the searches and the tails. And—

  Nope. She wasn’t going there. There was nothing she could do right now, and it would be better for her not to think about it. Especially with Mick around.

  Being with him kept her off balance, and as if to demonstrate his skill in disconcerting her, when she was cleaning up after dinner he said, “Don’t be mad, but I lied to you.”

  She frowned. How many lies were the
re?

  He reached across the counter for the box the man at the jewelry shop had given him and handed it to her, his hands shaking. Shaking. Jenna’s stomach took a dive, even as she chastised herself for being stupid.

  “When we stopped at the jewelry store on the way home, it wasn’t to pick up my watch. I actually ordered something for you a couple days ago.”

  Now she was the one who trembled as she pried open the box and lifted out a flat silver bracelet. Tears burned at the back of her eyes as she ran her fingers over the words engraved in the shiny surface. IN MEMORY…ROBERT RYAN.

  “I thought you’d appreciate a memento of Rob, especially since you lost everything in the fire. But if you don’t like it, I can exchange it for another style,” Mick said, his words coming out in a rush.

  “No, it’s perfect.” She looked up at him, her mind whirling. Had she ever really known the real Mick Fury? “Thank you.” The urge to launch herself into his arms nearly overwhelmed her, but before she embarrassed herself, he cleared his throat and broke eye contact.

  Standing, he shoved one hand into his front pocket and gestured to her bag with the other. “So did you get anything good in the mail?”

  His sudden change of topic pulled Jenna back to reality. She was still reeling from the planning and thoughtfulness that had gone into his gift, but when he mentioned the mail, she remembered an oversized envelope, and her curiosity trumped the mystery that was Mick. For the moment. She took the bundle of mail from her bag and spread the envelopes out on the counter, enjoying the new sensation of the cool metal of the bracelet on her wrist. Instantly the return address on the heavy-duty Tyvek envelope caught her eye, and she could have kicked herself for not checking sooner.

  “There’s something from Rob,” she said, her voice oddly hushed. She was both eager and reluctant to see what was inside. Mick showed incredible restraint by moving into the living room to give her privacy.