Silent Warrior: A Loveswept Classic Romance (21 page)

This time he felt as if he’d been handed the proverbial second chance—at his whole life. And he had no idea what to do to make sure he didn’t blow it. Again.

“I take it you’re part of the new Dozen?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

She nodded. “And don’t worry, despite what Scottie hinted at, I wasn’t brought in as bait to get you back. I made sure of that myself. I wouldn’t have wanted her to waste her time.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’d resort to whatever methods were at her disposal to get what she wanted.”

“Why haven’t you taken the job? I would have thought this would have been the perfect solution.”

It should have been. He certainly didn’t have other offers pouring in. But he couldn’t commit to it. For the past several months he’d felt … empty. In fact, he could pinpoint the exact moment when the feeling had begun—the second the door to the small charter plane had closed, the final barrier between him and Cali.

“Is that why you took the job?”

She lifted an eyebrow but merely smiled as she crossed her arms. “I see your super-secret-spy ego is still intact. And for the record, I don’t think my job
rides on my ability to reel you in. I hold my own here.”

“What is your position with the team?”

Her smile held steady. “Sorry, McShane, but that’s classified information, known only to other team members.”

He hadn’t expected this to be easy. Frustrated but determined not to let it get the best of him, he crossed to the window, turning his attention to the magnificent skyline. “Well then, I guess you’d better go. Looks like you have some heavy reading to do.”

“No answer, then?”

“I don’t know what I want to do, Cali. At the risk of showing that ego you spoke of, I imagine if I want to work with the team at some point in the future, Scottie will find a place for me.”

“And in the meantime?”

He had no answer. She had been his meantime. She’d occupied most of his waking thoughts and all of his sleeping ones. And now there she was, several feet away from him. There to touch, caress, stroke. A couple of steps away from holding, tasting, needing. In all the time they’d been apart he’d never figured out what he’d say to her if he saw her again. Divine inspiration wasn’t coming to his assistance now either. He’d told her he loved her. She’d thrown it back in his face. He’d told her he had no plans for his future. Not a good selling point.

So what in the hell could he say to make her understand he wanted her?

Maybe it didn’t matter how difficult she made it
for him. Maybe there were no second chances. Maybe he didn’t deserve one.

“I’m glad you found something that could make you happy, Cali.”

There was a long silence. He tried to see her reflection in the glass, but the angle of the setting sun was wrong. He wanted to turn, but didn’t trust himself to move one inch for fear he’d cross the room and take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

“I’m looking forward to the challenge,” she said after a long pause. There was no smug amusement in her voice now. “But I don’t know about happy.”

He did turn. “What’s to be unhappy about? You don’t like Denver?”

She shook her head. “Denver is okay. I’m surprised, but I like all this snow. Guess I’ve been in California long enough.”

“Your father still giving you trouble?”

She sighed softly but shook her head again. “Some of the decisions I made during our time together seemed to have stuck. I handled my father better than I thought I could.” A hint of the smile returned. “Better than he thought too.”

He was certain he was opening himself up to pain, but what the hell did he have to lose? “Well then, what is it?” He allowed himself a small step toward her.

To his relief, she stood her ground.

“What else do you want, Cali?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I’m getting it now.”

“Meaning?”

“I thought I’d be okay if I could see you one more time, talk to you. I thought that would somehow make it easier. I’m not sure I was right.”

The bare hint of hurt in her voice had him taking another step, curling his fingers into his palms to keep from reaching for her. “Right about what? Make what easier?”

She didn’t answer. After a long moment she looked away, lacing her fingers. It was the first less-than-certain reaction he’d seen in her.

“In case you were wondering, I’m not pregnant.”

He’d thought about that. He’d hoped like hell she’d have contacted him if she was. Still, hearing it from her shook him. He wasn’t sure what to do with the overwhelming sensation of disappointment that flooded through him.

She looked up before he had a chance to mask his expression.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly. “I worried about you.”

“Yeah, all those cards and phone calls were a real nuisance.”

Her sharp tone caught him by surprise. He answered without taking time to think it through. “Scottie said you’d already been debriefed by the time I came in. After that I didn’t hear from you either. What the hell was I supposed to do, Cali? Call up and say, ‘Hi, how was the Middle East? Oh, by the way, you’re not knocked up, are you?’ They don’t make greeting cards for that occasion.” He blew out a breath and raked his hand through his hair. “It
doesn’t mean I didn’t worry about you, think about you. I did.”
Endlessly
. “I still do.”

“Well, now you can rest easy.”

She hadn’t a clue. He reined in the frustration. The fear was tougher. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive watching her walk away from him again. “I’m glad you told me,” he repeated.

She looked down. “I’m not.” Her voice was a bare whisper.

He stepped closer, no longer caring about the risks. He couldn’t hurt any worse. “You’re not glad I know you’re not pregnant?”

She looked up at him. Her eyes were glassy. She took a visible breath. “I’m not glad I’m not pregnant.”

He felt as if she’d punched him in the heart. He fumbled, not wanting to say the wrong thing, scared to death to say he felt the same way. “After what happened last time—”

She shook her head. “It’s not about the baby I lost. Miscarriages, as tragic and painful as the timing of mine was, aren’t uncommon. My doctor told me it didn’t decrease my chances of having another baby.”

“Then what—”

She shut him up with a short shake of her head. She blew out a breath on a long sigh, then closed the distance between them. She took his hand. She was a toucher. That hadn’t changed. Peace settled over him like a comforting blanket.

“I should have done that first.”

She looked from their joined hands to his face. “Done what?”

“Touched you.” He lifted a hand to her face. His fingers trembled as he stroked her soft skin. “Everything seems to make sense when I’m touching you.”

“Then why did you stop?”

He didn’t answer right away.

She finally closed her other hand over his and stopped him. “Why, John?”

“Maybe because I wasn’t sure my touch would be enough. That
I
would be enough.” His fingers lifted to weave through hers. He tightened them, still cupping her cheek. “I thought it would be easier not to try at all. To let you find what made you happy.”

“And was it? Easier?”

“Not even close.”

“Well, I tried to find happiness. I have a new job and a new condo and a new outlook on life.”

“New outlook?”

“The one I decided on the day we made love. Remember what you said on Martinique, about risk? You said that what you get back in personal growth from standing up to what you fear most is at the very least equal to the risk you take. Well, that’s my new motto. To make my own happiness. To risk everything and anything to get it, never to let myself stop believing it was worth it.

“But I knew my happiness wouldn’t be complete until I saw you again. Except I was afraid to take that risk.”

“What are you risking by seeing me?”

She shifted his hand to her chest. “My heart. It’s been yours since some point on Martinique.”

Stunned, he said nothing.

“I thought I could work it out on my own,” she said. “You obviously had made your decision. But when I found out I wasn’t pregnant, it hurt. A lot. And I knew I was crawling back into my safe hole again.” She held his gaze. “Maybe Scottie understood that. Whatever the circumstances, here we are.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever respected anyone as much as I do you, Cali Ellis. Certainly not myself.” This time he shook his head when she would have spoken. On a raw, choked whisper, he said, “It hurt me too.”

She gasped softly, her hand clutched his. “What did?”

“That you weren’t pregnant.”

“Oh, John.”

He wasn’t sure who tugged whom, but they were both wrapped in each other’s arms an instant later. His mouth found hers, and she opened for him willingly. He took all she was giving him, reveling in the discovery of what he’d been missing all along. “That magic circle, Cali. That’s what I want. I want to make one.” He lifted his head. “With you.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her surprised, parted lips. “I have no idea how to do it. It scares me to death.”

“You know what?” she whispered. “I want that too. With you.” She kissed him, gently at first, but it quickly escalated until they were both grasping each other’s arms just to stay upright.

John broke away first, pulling in a deep breath, “I love you, Cali Stanfield Ellis.”

Eyes shining, she kissed him. “I love you, John McShane.”

Heart pounding, but only with joy, he said, “How do you feel about adding another name to that list?”

“Cali Stanfield Ellis McShane?” She grinned. “Has sort of a magical ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he said roughly, catching her hard against him. “Yeah, it does.”

She moved her head a fraction, making him pause a heartbeat away from her mouth. “What?”

“I’m adding a name to mine. Are you going to add a new job title to yours?”

“They want me as strategy coordinator, in-house.”

She smiled. “Well, as the new resident code buster, that means we would probably have to work”—she snuggled more tightly against him—“very closely with each other.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” She laughed, and his heart melted. He joined her, reeling from the power of the joy that flooded through him. He took her face inhis hands. “Welcome to our magic circle,” he whispered against her lips.

When he finally released her mouth long minutes later, she looked into his eyes and said, “Welcome home, John McShane.”

Welcome to Loveswept!

Summer’s over and the days are starting to get shorter and cooler. If you’re missing summer’s warmth, turn up the heat with our new Loveswept releases.

Coming out next month: Linda Cajio’s super-sexy
NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
, Karen Leabo’s moving and tender
LANA’S LAWMAN
, and three more fantastic books from Donna Kauffman:
MIDNIGHT HEAT, BORN TO BE WILD
and
SURRENDER THE DARK
.

If you love romance … then you’re ready to be
Loveswept
!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: In November, we have six more exhilarating reads for you: Adrienne Staff’s irresistible
PARADISE CAFÉ
, Linda Cajio’s playful and sexy
THE PERFECT CATCH
, Debra Dixon’s sensual
DOC HOLIDAY
, Samantha Kane’s brilliant
THE DEVIL’S THIEF
, and two more enthralling titles from Donna Kauffman:
TEASE ME
, and
BAYOU HEAT
. And December brings these fantastic releases: Juliet Rosetti’s charming
ESCAPE DIARIES
, Juliana Garnett’s enchanting medieval
THE MAGIC
, and four more breathtaking stories from Donna Kauffman’s:
BOUNTY HUNTER
,
TANGO IN PRADISE
,
ILLEGAL MOTION
and
BLACK SATIN
. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come.…

“Any local worth his salt knows what time the fishing starts in Star Harbor,” a large, handsome, dangerous-looking man with raven-black hair intoned in a deadpan. “And it ain’t eight-thirty.”

After listening to this blatant insult, Sebastian Grayson, world traveler and master chef, fought the urge to throttle the man who was now reeling in his line. Throttle him, or toss his own tackle box off Mutterman’s Pier and crawl back into his tiny berth on Val’s boat. Of course, both would require energy, so he let exhaustion win out. Pulling his leather jacket more tightly around his tired, aching body, Seb leaned back on a pylon and closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar tang of salt water and wet wood. The cold, foggy air rushing into his lungs was helping to wake him up some, but he’d still kill for a latte.