Page 48 of Perfect Vengeance

She thought she’d been freaked out by those snakes, but the furious look on Jack’s face was far more frightening.

“What did you do?” She opened her mouth to explain, but he cut her off. “You couldn’t let it go, could you? Was the money calling your name? Last I checked, cash can’t talk.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she cried. “I didn’t break my word to you, I swear it. I only went back into the kitchen to get my penlight, and I found the cash on the floor. I couldn’t very well open that freezer door again, could I?” Tension from everything that had transpired over the last week slammed into her like a two-ton safe. “Fine. Don’t believe me. Throw me in jail, but keep my friends out of this.”

Leaving him standing in the living room, Gina spun and dashed into the kitchen. She whipped open the pantry doors and grabbed a bar of 80% Brazilian chocolate. She tore off the wrapper and broke off a chunk, about to shove it into her mouth when Jack ripped it from her hand.

“Did you eat any of that stuff yet?” He threw the chocolate bar to the floor. The look on his face was ten shades past furious. It was...dangerous. “Did you?”

“No, not that it’s any of your bus⁠—”

He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. For a microsecond, she resisted, shoving her hands against his iron-hard chest. When she opened her mouth to tell him precisely what she thought of his manhandling her, he took full advantage and slipped his tongue between her lips.

Any resistance on her part died then and there. She melted into his warm body, absorbing his heat, his very breath, as he kissed her deeper. His big hands threaded through her hair, and he groaned into her mouth. The kiss became feral, all-consuming. Her mind went totally blank, but every square inch of her skin shimmered with sparks igniting simultaneously. In one split second, Jack had accomplished what no man ever had.

Gina felt alive in the arms of a man. Really alive.

She slid her hands beneath his sweater, awed by the flex and play of thick muscles beneath her fingertips. Moaning, she dug her nails into his firm flesh, wishing she could get closer, tighter against this man who inflamed her body with desire she’d never experienced.

His hands roved her back, massaging, caressing, burning straight through the fabric of her jacket and catsuit, and all the while his incredibly talented mouth and tongue continued their assault on her mouth.

He cupped her buttocks and hauled her against his arousal. More. She craved more. All she wanted was to wrap her entire body around him.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss and eased away. She nearly cried out from the loss of his body heat, his fiery touch, and the promise of something incredible. Her chest heaved, and she stood there, gasping for air.

He stared at her, his back pressed against the kitchen counter as he sucked in ragged breaths. Even with his eyes hooded as they were, the burning need in those gray depths mirrored her own. They might be standing four feet apart, but she still felt his touch straight to her core.

“That shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was hoarse, and she could have imagined it, but he seemed as confused as she felt right at that moment. That theory went out the window after he cleared his throat. “You’ve fulfilled your part of our bargain. Consider your debt to the FBI and to me paid in full.” The look of regret on his face intensified, and the tone he’d used was about as passionless as a roll of duct tape.

He’d just given her the most incredible, soul-rocking kiss of her life, and just like that it was over, back to business. Guess that’s all she’d ever be to him. Business.

He grabbed the towel hanging on the oven door, then went to her freezer and dispensed ice onto the terrycloth. Wordlessly, he gently pressed the makeshift ice pack to the bump on her head.

“I believe you,” he said, clenching his jaw. “About what happened tonight. You can keep that stack of cash, but remember…no more rips until my investigation is over. After that, what you do is at your own risk.”

Anger, mixed with a healthy dose of rejection, fueled the bite in her next words. “And how will I know when your investigation is complete? Will you send me a memo?”

“You can read about it in the papers. In the meantime, it’s too dangerous for you to continue ripping off mobsters. If you’re smart, you’ll call it quits. For good.”

She took control of the icepack. “What do you care?”

For a moment, he didn’t say a word. “I just do.”

“That’s a laugh. From the look on your face, you’re thrilled to be rid of me.”

He gave her another look, this one different—and one she couldn’t decipher. On anyone else, she might have thought it was…longing.

Then he was gone. A moment later, her front door slammed shut.

Shock hit first, followed by so much numbness she nearly slid to the floor. The sensible thing would be to shrug it off. It was just a kiss, after all, one that clearly meant nothing to Jack. It was merely a sudden urge, an adrenaline rush between two people who were physically attracted to each other.

Her belly quivered. The urge to cry was overwhelming. Rather than give in to tears, she wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the floor. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold tile beneath her. It was from the unforgettable desire Jack’s touch had awakened within her.

Worse, she’d gone and done the stupidest thing possible. She’d actually begun to like the muscle-bound fed. He might be a stern, hard-assed pain in the butt, but she’d glimpsed the other side of his personality, the one buried deep beneath his exterior wall of iron. That man was caring, passionate, and⁠—

Had rejected her. Completely and totally. She was a fool for considering there could be more to that kiss than there so clearly wasn’t. Just as well. Like all the good men in her life—the few that there’d been—he eventually would have done what they all did. Leave. Not that she’d really been thinking about Jack in those terms.

She pressed the ice pack harder against the goose egg and flinched. It was time to face facts. Time to move past this little glitch in her life and focus on what was really important. Helping Marilyn and the other women at the shelter. That was all that really mattered. She could continue getting by in life and being happy just by helping others who couldn’t help themselves. Who needed love, anyway? From what little she’d seen of it, love was not only seriously overrated, but it never lasted.