Nauti Intentions (3 page)

“I’m sorry, Janey,†he said softly. “It won’t happen again.â€

“Of course it wil .†Janey smiled stiffly. “It happens several times a night, Alex. But I’m sure I can fil the table.†She nodded to Catherine.

“Have a good night.â€

She turned away from them, marked their name from the list, and kept her head down as Alex pul ed Catherine toward the door.

She did lift her lashes just enough to sneak a peak at that gorgeous male ass, though. She was al for being cool, composed, and al the good stuff that

kept the restaurant running, but some sights a woman didn’t miss out on. No matter how uncomfortable she felt at the sight of this man with another

woman.

Wel , perhaps more than uncomfortable. She was damned mad and she didn’t have a right to be. She was hurt, and again, she didn’t have a

right to be.

It was one kiss, because she had begged. Because he felt sorry for her. And the last thing she wanted was Alex Jansen’s pity.

“Ms. Mackay, there’s a couple waiting in the reception area that was requesting a table a few moments ago.†Her manager, Hoyt Napier,

stepped from the register.

Hoyt was just a few inches tal er than Janey in her heels. At five-eleven, he was slender, dark-haired. Twenty-four years old and sometimes, she swore,

her lifesaver, despite his sometimes melancholic intensity. Deep brown eyes were surrounded with thick brown lashes, and tobacco brown hair was

brushed neatly back from his broad forehead. Between him and her brother’s adopted son, Faisal, she managed to keep her sanity.

Everything about Hoyt was neat. His hair, his clothes, the way he helped her run the restaurant, and how he often tried to shield her from the snide

comments directed at her. Even Hoyt’s mother, Augusta, it seemed, wasn’t pleased that Janey had come home.

“Let them know we have a table ready, then.†Janey nodded, turning back to the reservation book and staring at Alex’s crossed-out name

pensively.

There was no time to dwel on the event, or the woman Alex had with him. But that didn’t keep her from doing it. From imagining him with the curvy

blonde. Janey knew he was angry, but Catherine would purr her way out of trouble. Janey was certain.

So why did that thought hurt so damned bad that it made the rest of the night more difficult to endure than normal? As she had told Alex, that wasn’t

the first snipe of the night that she had heard, and it wouldn’t be the last. Being the daughter of a traitor, a man who had fooled almost everyone he

knew into believing he was patriotic, kind, and to be respected, wasn’t going to be easy.

The fact that she had taken over his thriving business, and the sensationalism of the arrests and events that had occurred six months before, grated on

people’s pride. It was a damned wonder someone hadn’t kil ed her.

Sometimes she thought the only reason they hadn’t tried was because of her brother, Natches, and their cousins, Rowdy and Dawg. And Uncle

Ray. Who had stayed at her side in the hospital for more than a week. His wife, Maria, had babied her as though she had raised her. And Natches’s

twenty-one-year-old adopted son—and that one stil amazed the hel out of her—was normal y at her back like a guard dog. Thankful y, her chef had

taken him into the kitchen this week. Faisal took his duties seriously while he was at the restaurant, and he considered her family. Evidently, he saw the

family the same way Natches did. Worth kil ing for. It was scary how much alike her brother and his adopted son were.

Too bad Faisal hadn’t been around the night Dayle Mackay had literal y kidnapped her.

She barely remembered her uncle Ray shedding tears three days after she was admitted into the hospital. Where the doctors had confirmed that the

rape kit had shown none of the signs of rape that were consistent with the bite marks on her breasts.

No, she hadn’t been raped, but what Nadine had done to her had scarred her in other ways.

She didn’t sleep wel . Not that she ever had, but the insomnia was sometimes worse now. The nightmares could be brutal.

Natches knew. When she looked in his eyes at that hospital, she’d seen the grief there, the fury. He knew, and there had been no one left to strike

out at.

She’d had the restaurant for three months now, ever since the Department of Homeland Security turned it over to her and her brother, and it was

thriving. Because she let the customers snipe. Because she played the perfect little robot. Just as she had before her father’s death.

“Another ful night,†Hoyt murmured as they cashed the last customer out at nearly midnight and locked the doors behind them. “The kitchen

staff is nearly ready to leave unless you require anything.â€

Janey shook her head as she rubbed her lower back and turned to stare at the huge dining room. There were several private screened areas that could

be enlarged or made smal er. There was a banquet room that was normal y closed except to large parties and would have to be reserved wel in advance.

“I don’t require anything, Hoyt.†She final y shook her head. “You can go ahead and leave. Has Faisal left yet?â€

Hoyt nodded. “Your cousin picked him up a few minutes ago.†He paused. “I heard what some of the customers said tonight.†He frowned

lightly. “You act like it doesn’t bother you.â€

It tore a strip from her every time it happened.

“What can I do?†She sighed. “Dayle was what he was. Nothing is going to change that.â€

“Does that mean you’re to blame?†Hoyt asked her heatedly. “You didn’t do it.â€

“But I’m here to blame.†Janey shrugged. “Grab something from the kitchen to take home to your mother. There’s plenty in there.

I’l see you tomorrow evening.â€

He shook his head and moved to the kitchen. When he left by way of the back doors, Janey locked up behind him, then checked the front doors again

as wel .

Augusta Hoyt had been il lately; Janey hoped some of the food that the chef put back in the refrigerator for their lunches the next day would cheer her

up. She never came to the restaurant, refused to associate with “the traitor’s daughter.†Janey was damned lucky everyone else was too nosy

and gossipy to feel that way.

But that was a smal town for you. Somerset was a tight-knit community. Most everyone knew everyone else, and the controversy only made them more

curious. They loved their hometown heroes, and her brother was one of those heroes. As were her cousins. That meant she was “almost†part of the

community, therefore not “completely†to blame. She was the one they could snipe at, because Dayle Mackay was no longer there to punish and

Natches had captured him, seen him arrested, imprisoned. He was their hero. Janey was their scapegoat.

Smal towns were amazingly supportive in some ways. Amazingly cruel in others. And it was home. A home she loved, one she had missed in the years

she had been forced to live away from it.

Sighing at the thought, she moved through the dining room and headed to her office.

The restaurant was eerie, too silent. She turned in the middle of the dimly lit room and stared around her. It had not been as busy as it was ever since

she had taken over, but she expected the rush to slacken once the sensationalism wore off. Once the newspapers stopped reporting and the tabloids

stopped gossiping. Or would that never happen?

She moved to the hal on the far side of the room and then into her office. Janey closed the door behind her. Pul ing the hem of her shirt from the narrow

skirt she wore, she kicked off her heels and moved to the smal refrigerator that sat in the back corner.

She poured a glass of wine and sat down in the heavy leather chair behind the old scarred desk she had moved into the room.

She pul ed out the bottom drawer, slapped a pil ow on top of it, and propped up her feet before closing her eyes and sinking into the chair.

She meant to relax; she didn’t mean to feel the ghostly touch of male lips against hers. A dazed memory of a kiss, butterfly soft, probably so he

wouldn’t have to touch her too much.

“No.†She shook her head, lifting herself, her feet thumping to the floor as she rested her elbows on her knees and pushed her fingers through her

hair.

She couldn’t let herself think that. It was the only memory she had that wasn’t tainted and somehow dirty. The touch of his lips, warm, gentle.

That was what they had been, she told herself. Just gentle. So he wouldn’t hurt her.

And he had held her tight. Prayed, maybe. She could have sworn she had heard a prayer. Or maybe it was a curse.

She sat back in the chair and lifted the wineglass, tipping it to her lips and swal owing a healthy sip. Wel , probably more like a drink, she thought as she

rubbed at the back of her neck. If she didn’t manage to relax, she would never get to sleep tonight.

She was taking another sip—drink—when a heavy knock landed on the outside door.

Natches. Or one of her cousins. They checked up on her often.

She finished the wine quickly, wiping her lips as she moved around the desk.

“Just because the lights are on doesn’t mean someone’s home.†She pasted on a fake smile.

It froze on her lips. Because it wasn’t Natches or one of her cousins. It wasn’t even her uncle Ray or the overprotective Faisal.

It was Alex.

He stared down at her, his expression as stoic as always, his brows heavy over his thunderous gray eyes, his brown and dark blond hair a little longer

than it had been six months before.

He moved into the office, the slightest limp betraying the wound he had come home with.

“Restaurant’s closed,†she told him, turning to face him, stil holding the door open. “Or did you somehow miss the sign in front?†She

widened her eyes innocently. “I forgot to put one on the back door, huh? Geez, who knew customers could get turned around that easy.â€

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Janey.†He sighed, running his hand over his short hair. It wasn’t quite a buzz cut anymore, but it was close.

And he was too damned sexy for words. Dark flesh that always looked tanned. Those dark, stormy gray eyes and lashes thick enough to make a

woman want to kil for them.

She closed the door. Slowly. Quietly. She wasn’t going to give in to the need to slam it. Robots didn’t slam doors, did they?

“Fine. So tel me what kind of problem you had with locked doors and closed signs.†She moved around him back to the desk, poured another

half glass of wine, and faced him.

She had a feeling a bottle of whiskey wouldn’t be enough to numb her against Alex.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, his lips quirking with a smal grimace as he looked around the office, before his gaze moved

back to hers.

“I’m sorry about Catherine,†he final y said.

Janey rol ed her eyes. “You going to apologize for the rest of the night, too?†She shook her head and sighed wearily. “Hel , Alex, she

wasn’t the first. She won’t be the last.â€

He was silent, staring back at her, his expression heavy.

“Why are you here?†She waved the wineglass toward the room. “It’s after midnight. Didn’t Catherine want to put out after you made

her leave?â€

His frown deepened. “Maybe I was the one that didn’t want to put out.â€

“Oh. I’m sure.†She sat on the corner of the desk, pushing back until her feet dangled off the cold floor as she sipped at her wine. “Stil

hurting from that leg wound?â€

She nodded to the hard thigh muscle—hel , she shouldn’t have looked there—where he had taken a bul et to his leg in Iraq. Alex was always

getting shot, knifed, or almost blown up. He’d come home for a while, heal, and be back at it.

“The leg doesn’t stop me from putting out, Janey,†he drawled, that quirk of his lips turning into a half smile. “And I don’t need

excuses not to spend a night with a woman. Catherine was being a bitch and she knew it.â€

She widened her eyes mockingly. “You said the B word, Alex. Bad boy. You should never cal a woman a bitch.â€

He grunted at that.

“You’ve been in the military too long,†she told him.

“Probably.†He looked around the office again. “Do you live here, Janey? Shouldn’t you be upstairs relaxing instead of hanging around

the office?â€

“Shouldn’t you tel me why you care?†She arched her brow. “Real y, Alex, your girlfriend didn’t hurt my feelings. You can go give her a

little nasty with a clear conscience now.â€

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be fucking her if that was what I wanted to do?†he growled.

Janey widened her eyes again, pretending to be scandalized. “Your language, Alex.â€

Actual y, she might be having fun.

“I don’t beat around the bush, Janey.†He pul ed his hands from his pants pockets and folded them across that mile-wide chest of his.

“You want to talk sex, I’m al for it. But don’t expect me to get flowery over it. And don’t think I forgot about the question I asked you.â€

Why the hel was he here? Janey stared back at him, trying to make sense of his presence. Six months since he had pul ed her out of Nadine’s

house, a month since he’d come home, and she hadn’t seen him. Why now? Why like this?

“I just closed up.†She lifted the wine and sipped at it. “I was relaxing a few moments before I had to haul my tired butt up those stairs.â€

“Lock up. I’l carry you up.â€

He was serious. Janey blinked up at him, then forced herself to finish the wine before sliding off the edge of the desk. She could feel the tension now. It