“You should read over the file on Claire Davenport,” he called over his shoulder, breaking into her thoughts. “Get a sense of this woman before we pay her a visit at her apartment this evening.”
She watched him go, then as soon as she heard the suite door close, sank down onto the edge of the bed, her head spinning.
What the hell just happened?
If Jack had meant his kiss to put their past behind them and allow them to move on, he’d miscalculated big-time. If anything, it was a reminder of how much she loved the taste of him, how just the sweep of his mouth over hers was enough to make her want to pull him down onto the bed and lose herself in the desire that had always simmered between them . . .
Maddie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm her pulse. Oh, yeah, totally not behind her. She needed a distraction hella fast.
Taking Jack’s advice, she snatched up the manila folder she’d tossed aside in her furious dismantling of her suitcase and opened it up to see the photo of a very pretty woman with honey-blond hair.
“Well, hello, Claire . . .”
* * *
Jack didn’t realize he was scowling until he passed by the mirror in his adjoining suite and caught a glimpse of himself. Ah, the Brooding Brit was making an appearance.
That’s how Will had referred to him in a rare show of humor in front of his men when Jack had first joined the Chicago team, trying to put Jack at ease and make him part of his new family in spite of the dire circumstance that had brought him there.
Aside from Will, none of the others knew that Jack had been on the run from men who’d put a price on his head. And none of them had learned of it since. They knew he had enemies—hell, which of them didn’t?—but had they known who it was that wanted retribution for the blood Jack had shed, and why, they might not have been so welcoming.
Fortunately, his entire life had been allocated to the dark files—buried in the Alliance’s archives behind layers of security to which only a very privileged few had access. Now that he was “Jack Grayson,” all anyone knew was that he was from an old Order family whose commander in the UK had sent him to the States for reasons no one bothered to ask about or explain. That’s just the way it was done.
When they’d experienced a security breach almost a year ago, Jack had been concerned that his past might come tumbling out of the abyss, laid bare for all to see. But it seemed all was still secure. And if Finn had stumbled onto anything when he was digging around to find information on the assassin sent after Luke and Sarah, he wasn’t saying anything.
But sometimes he thought it might’ve been a relief if the truthhadcome out. Keeping it buried for so long, with only Will knowing, was an ever-present weight on his conscience. He and his friend had spoken of things only once or twice before—and after a lot of scotch had been consumed. So that old nagging guilt, that heaviness in the center of Jack’s gut, still weighed on him when he thought about the truth he was keeping from those he cared about.
Especially Maddie.
He knew that was really why he’d walked away before. He loved the way she looked at him, wanted to be the person she believed him to be. And having to reveal the man he truly was and see the disappointment in her eyes was a pain he didn’t ever want to experience.
He raked his hands through his hair, pulling the wavy locks tight against his head for a moment before releasing them on a frustrated sigh.
Speaking of pain . . .
What the hell had he been thinking by kissing her? He’d said they just needed to get it out of the way and had even believed that—until he’d tasted her lips again. They were as soft and delectable as he’d remembered. He’d kissed other women since her, of course. He’d hardly been living like the Templars of old. But no one else had been able to supplant the memories of every touch, every kiss he’d shared with Maddie.
Even now the memory of the first time he kissed her tortured him. She’d come to him to talk, as she often did, unsure whether she was making the right decisions about her career path, certain her father wouldn’t approve and unsure how to tell him she was entering law enforcement—and not politics, as he’d hoped.
Jack had suggested just getting away for a while and clearing her head. He drove her out to the secluded beach that bordered her father’s estate and they’d strolled along in silence under the moonlight as ocean waves crashed upon the shore, each lost in thought. At some point, Maddie had slipped her hand into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And when he’d pulled her into his embrace to hold her close against him, and her arms circled his waist, it was as if he’d always held her that way.
And when she eventually turned her face up to his, her beautiful face so young and hopeful as her gaze searched his, he’d brushed a kiss over her lips before he’d even realized what he was doing. But, to his amazement, she’d returned his kiss with her own, unhurried and tender, curious even. And he knew he was lost.
His love affair with Maddie had been precious and sweet—two words that had never entered his vocabulary before then. He thought perhaps the allure had been because she was younger than he by six years, but he’d soon realized that their time together had left such an indelible impression upon his heart because he loved her. Loved her with an unguarded abandon that he’d never thought possible.
But he’d been fooling himself. Relationships were always difficult for members of the Alliance. He was happy for Luke and Maddie’s sister, Sarah, for the life that they were beginning together without Luke’s having to walk away from the Alliance as he’d intended. But their relationship worked because Luke and Sarah were able to maintain some semblance of normalcy separate from the Alliance, from the missions that would call any of them away at a moment’s notice.
But there was no “normal” for Jack. There couldn’t be. Not when he would forever be looking over his shoulder. Jack had allowed himself to form friendships among his brothers, sure. Buttheyall knew the score. After all, none of them really expected to retire to a quiet life in the country. But when it came to romantic relationships, he’d kept his distance from everyone since Maddie, knowing that one day his enemies would find him and that anyone he was close to would pay the price.
And now here they were, thrown together by circumstances. A volatile situation that had all the earmarks of a giant clusterfuck. That had become damned clear when he’d kissed Maddie and felt desire slam into him. He wanted her with just as much intensity and urgency as ever. And that need was intensified by the fact that he knew he couldn’t have her.
He’d meant the kiss to be a reminder of that fact, a taste of what he’d once enjoyed, to satiate his appetite for her and allow them both to move on with the business at hand. But that taste had only served to increase his hunger.
A gentle rapping on the door to his suite snapped Jack out of his tortured thoughts. He drew his gun and strode toward the entrance, taking a moment to peer through the peephole before disengaging the lock. A woman in a hotel staff uniform with elegantly arranged pale blond hair and wide blue eyes offered him a friendly smile. Behind her was a bored-looking bellhop carrying several shopping bags.
“Hello, Mr. Smith,” she greeted, her tone refreshingly cheerful. “I’m Meghan from the front desk. We have a delivery for you.” When his brows came together slightly in a frown, she held up both arms, drawing his attention to the hangers draped in black suit bags. “From a Mr.”—she paused, her eyes lifting toward the ceiling in thought for a moment—“Chumbawamba. He said you’d be expecting us.”
Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Finn was the only Templar he knew who took such delight in coming up with completely absurd cover names. “Yes, thank you. I’ll take those.”
