Fatal Pursuit (The Aegis Series) (19 page)

Jake’s heart shot into his throat when he looked through the glass. Reaching quickly for the car’s door handle, he jerked the door open. “Marley? Holy hell. What are you doing?”

“I . . .” Marley pressed a hand to her head and hissed in a breath. “Ouch.”

Blood trickled down her temple from beneath her fingers, making his heart race even faster. Leaning inside the vehicle, he quickly reached for her seatbelt only to realize she wasn’t strapped in. “God Almighty, woman.”

She slid one leg out of the car, but he captured her before she could stand and swept her up into his arms. “Don’t move.”

She scrunched up her face and pushed her other hand against his shoulder as he kicked the door closed and carried her away from the car. “I’m fine, Jake.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. You’re bleeding. And why weren’t you wearing your seatbelt? Seatbelts save lives, you know. And heads.”

“Lapse in judgment, I guess.”

“You seem to be having a lot of those lately.”

“Is that a crack about my driving or my life?”

“On this one I’m keeping my mouth closed.” He caught the doorknob with his hand, turned and pushed it open with his hip, then carried her into the entry and closed the door with his boot. Moving down the two steps into his sunken living room, he headed for the leather couch near the fireplace, then set her down. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t worry.” With her hand still pressed against the cut on her forehead, she winced. “I won’t.”

Jake’s pulse thumped as he rummaged around in the medicine cabinet of his bathroom. What the heck was she doing here late on a Sunday night? She’d never just dropped by before. And holy shit, what was she thinking driving around in the dark when it was icy?

He found bandages, antiseptic, and acetaminophen. Carrying it all back into the living room, he couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. Had something happened with McKnight? Had the prick tried or done something to hurt her? He’d like nothing more than to drive out to her father’s house and pound his fist into the guy’s face just for the fun of it.

His feet stilled as he stepped out of the hall and caught sight of Marley on his couch. She’d taken off her jacket and the loose blue blouse beneath and tossed them both over the arm of the sofa. Wearing nothing but a fitted white tank that accentuated her breasts and made her skin look darker, slim jeans that molded to her hips and legs, and tiny black flats she never should be walking on snow with, she pulled her hand away from the cut on her forehead, grimaced at the sight, then reapplied pressure to the wound.

She shouldn’t look sexy sitting there, but she did. Warmth gathered in his belly, slinked into his groin. Clearing his throat, he pushed his feet forward and moved down the steps toward her. Told himself she wasn’t sexy, she was hurt. Then mentally ticked off all the reasons he needed to stop looking at her like a woman and go back to seeing her as just his assistant.

“Here.” He sat next to her on the couch. “Turn toward me.”

She shifted one leg underneath her and twisted to face him, then pulled her hand away from her forehead. “How bad is it?”

He focused on her forehead, not the cleavage staring him in the face. Carefully, he swiped at the blood with gauze. A nice-size lump had already formed and had to hurt like a bitch. “I don’t think it needs stitches, but you’re gonna have a nasty bruise.”

She winced when he gently applied antiseptic and then blew over the wound to ease the sting. “Serves me right.”

He set the antiseptic on the coffee table, then reached for a bandage. After pulling the tape off, he gently placed it over her wound. “How is it you can tromp through the jungle where ten thousand dangerous things are trying to kill you and not get a scratch, then get hurt doing something as simple as driving a car?”

“I don’t know. I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“You’re something, that’s for sure.” He set the plastic tabs from the bandage on the coffee table, then turned to face her. “Just look at me.”

“Um.” She stilled and blinked several times. “Why?”

He captured her face in his hands and tipped her eyes up to his. “Because I’m checking to see if you have a concussion.”

“I’m fine, Jake.”

“Says the girl who just plowed her car into a light pole. And don’t roll your eyes at me, either.”

She sighed but held his gaze. And though he was supposed to be checking her pupil size, he couldn’t keep from noticing the ring of navy around her sky-blue irises. Why hadn’t he ever noticed that before? And why hadn’t he ever noticed the different shades of blue in her eyes? They weren’t one continuous color; they were a kaleidoscope of different hues.

“Well?” she asked, breaking the spell he seemed to be falling under. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet.” He pulled one hand away. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.”

“Now?”

“Four. Three.” She narrowed her eyes when he pulled another finger down so only two remained. “Okay, stop changing the damn number. I feel like an idiot enough as it is.”

She didn’t look like an idiot. She looked beautiful.

He quickly released her and moved several inches away. Dammit, that was the kind of thinking that was going to get him into trouble. He cleared his throat again. “Headache, nausea, dizziness?”

“Only briefly when you were whipping your fingers around.” When he glanced at her, she frowned. “No, no, and no.” She reached for her sweater and coat. “I’m fine. And I need to be going.”

A whisper of panic raced down his spine. He captured her arm so she couldn’t stand, then reached around her and took her coat and sweater. “You’re not going anywhere. You might not have a concussion, but you’re obviously rattled. Besides which.” He pushed to his feet, tossed her coat and sweater on a chair out of her reach, and rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. “You’re not going anywhere in that car until a mechanic looks at it.”

“It’s barely dented.” She twisted to look out the front window across the dark cul-de-sac. “Isn’t it?”

“Barely or not, it’s getting checked out.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”

She sighed and leaned back into the couch.

Since he’d seen her drink tea at work in the afternoons, he fixed her a cup of English Breakfast and grabbed the bottle of acetaminophen. Before he could head back into the living room, his cell on the counter buzzed.

He thought about ignoring it, but flipped it over. Then wished he hadn’t.

After typing a quick response, he tucked the phone into his back pocket and headed into the living room. Marley was hunched over her cell tapping on the screen when he entered.

“Here.” He handed her the cup. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better. And give me that.” As soon as she took the mug, he plucked the phone out of her free hand.

“Hey. I need that to call a cab.”

“Not right now you don’t.” He dropped her phone on the coffee table and eased back into the opposite corner of the couch.

She frowned and lifted the mug to her lips. “You’re awfully aggravating when you’re bossy.”

“I know. Deal with it. After three years you should know how.”

She rolled her eyes, took a sniff of the hot brew, then sipped. “Mm. I thought you were only a coffee drinker.”

“Contrary to what you might believe, I’m a man of many varied tastes.” Not that he wanted to get into those tastes with her right now. Especially when his favorite taste at the moment was her.

Shit. Don’t go there.

The cell in his pocket buzzed again. Relieved by the distraction, he pulled it out, read the response, then frowned and typed a quick note.

“Problem?” Marley asked, sipping her tea.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He set his phone next to hers on the table.

Her eyes narrowed. “I know that look, Jake. What’s going on?”

He debated whether he should tell her, especially with everything she was already dealing with, then figured the easiest way to get their relationship back on solid ground was to go back to what they did best. Which was dealing with crises.

“That was Miller. Someone’s looking into my properties.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, crossed his arms over his chest. “Could be nothing.”

“Or it could be something. Which ones?”

“Here. Italy. The Caribbean.”

Her face paled, and she lowered her mug. “Do you think it’s the Red Brotherhood trying to figure out where you are?”

“No.” He knew it was possible the terrorist organization that had targeted Landon and Olivia six months ago could be gunning for him, but his gut said this was something else. Something he probably shouldn’t mention to Marley, all things considered. “And even if it were, they’d go after Miller, not me.”

“You helped bring down the head of their organization. I’d say that gives them every reason to go after you.”

Possibly. But he didn’t want her stressing about this now. “Don’t worry about it.”

She huffed and lifted her mug again. “I do. The same way you worry about me getting a bump on the head.”

Something in his chest turned over as he watched her sip her tea. Something he hadn’t felt before. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“That’s what worries me.”

His brain flipped back to the plane, and how angry she’d been that he’d taken that risk and almost gotten killed trying to save them from the Black Eagles. Then fast-forwarded to the way she’d kissed him crazy in the galley until he could think of nothing but her.

Those tingles intensified until it felt like his entire body was vibrating.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked quietly.

The Red Brotherhood. Not their kiss. God, he needed to get his brain back online. “Nothing.”

But the bigger question was, what was he going to do about her?

His heart raced, and he knew he needed to change the subject before he did or said something that would make things worse. Perching one bare foot on the edge of the coffee table, he said, “So. Wanna tell me why you’re plowing your car into a light pole on my street at nine p.m. on a Sunday night?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and she lowered her mug to her lap. “I, um, was on my way home when I remembered those papers I need you to sign.”

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “What papers?”

She frowned like he was a complete idiot, and the expression was so cute, he had to physically restrain himself from leaning over to kiss the scowl off her face. “The papers we’ve talked about several times. For the properties you asked me to list because you have no intention of using them.”

“Oh.” A familiar bitterness rolled through his stomach when he remembered the handful of houses he’d asked Marley to sell. One that dampened his awareness of her in a good way. “Those properties. Right.”

All were homes he’d inherited from his father when the old man had passed. All had meant something special to his dear old dad. And all were nothing more than ugly reminders of a father who cared so little for his kids, he’d preferred spending time gallivanting around the globe with strangers rather than being present in their lives.

“I have the realtors’ contracts. I just need you to sign off on each one.”

“Yeah. Fine. I’ll do it.”

She leaned forward to set her mug on the coffee table, and knowing she was about to get up and go out into the snow to get the papers in her tiny, slippery shoes, he laid a hand on her thigh to keep her from standing. “Later. Finish your tea.”

She shot him a look, but he just gave it right back to her. If there was one thing he knew about Marley Addison, it was that pushy was the only real action she responded to. And right now he’d be as pushy as he needed to be because she wasn’t leaving this house until he knew for sure that she didn’t have a concussion and wasn’t in danger of doing some kind of other bodily harm to herself.

Their eyes held, and electricity sparked between them. A familiar electricity charged with conflict and exasperation. But tonight there was a whole lot more. A heat that was simmering beneath the surface. The same heat they’d both felt in the jungle. On that plane. A heat he knew from the color in her cheeks she felt as strongly as he did.

She sighed, eased back into the cushions with her mug once more, and took another sip. Silence slid over them, the only sound the flicker of the flames popping in the fireplace. But that heat was still there. Bubbling and rolling with energy, kicking up his pulse and making him twitch. And even from his end of the couch, he could smell her delicious scent rolling over him like a warm, luxurious wave, drawing him in, making him forget all those reasons her being here late on a Sunday night was a bad idea.

She lowered her mug and looked up at the far wall. “I like your house. It’s not at all what I expected. You live in the suburbs.”

Chitchat. He could do chitchat. It, at least, would keep his mind off the way her breasts pushed against her tank and the long, shapely line of her thigh. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. A fancy downtown penthouse with a doorman and security up the wazoo.”

“I’ve got security up the wazoo. You just can’t see it.” He glanced at her. “But a stuffy penthouse? Seriously?”

She shrugged. “You have the money for it. And you do dress all Mr.
GQ
.” Her gaze dropped to his favorite faded jeans and the ratty Notre Dame sweatshirt he’d pulled on earlier. “Well, usually.”

“Don’t let the image fool you. Underneath I’m just an ordinary nobody.” Leaning back farther into the cushions, he laced his fingers behind his head. “A giant disappointment, as my father always liked to point out.”

“I hardly think you’re a disappointment. You graduated top of your class at Notre Dame. You were a Navy SEAL. You run an incredibly successful security business. If your father was disappointed, then I’d say his standards were more than a little skewed.”

Jake stared at the blank TV screen on the wall across the room. The one he’d flipped off when he’d heard Marley’s car slam into that light pole. “He died before I started Aegis. But I doubt he’d be proud, especially with the way the guys run roughshod across his pristine properties.”