Susan Andersen - Coming Undone

A condition that promptly imploded when Jared's irate voice growled, "Security walk-through, my ass! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"HEY, UNCLEJARED!" Esme rushed over, her face alight with her habitual enthusiasm.

"Hey, pipsqueak." He leaned down to give her a fleeting peck on the lips, but barely broke stride in his unwavering advance on P.J.

He stopped in front of her, his hands firmly in his pockets to keep from doing her bodily injury. When he'd realized she was no longer in her dressing room-that she hadn'tbeen in the room the entire time he'd been sitting guard outside of it-his gut had turned into a mass of screaming nerve endings. She'd willfully put herself in danger on his watch.

That he wasn't happy about it was an understatement. "Say goodbye, P.J."

She looked up from her conversation with Mac, meeting his gaze dismissively. "When I'm ready."

He knew that stubborn look, but he was royally pissed and that trumped mulishness hands down. He wasn't about to take no for an answer. "Say. Goodbye," he commanded through gritted teeth, hauling her to her feet.

"Jared," Esme said uncertainly and Mac's eyes narrowed. But his willingness to carry little Miss Escape Artist out the front door-thrown over his shoulder like a sack of spuds if necessary-must have shown. P.J. turned to Mac.

"Thank you for treating me to the most fun I've had all week," she said warmly, rising onto her toes to plant a kiss on the older woman's cheek. "You come see me tonight after the show." She turned to his niece. "You, too, Esme. It was so good to see you again. Tell your mama I'm looking forward to seeing her tonight, as well." Projecting her voice to reach down the hallway, she said, "You can come, too, Rocket. If you absolutely must."

John's laughter floated out of his office.

Jared said his own goodbyes, then marched P.J. out the agency door, across the porch and down the steps to the Jeep he'd retrieved on his only detour between the amphitheater and here.

Tense silence filled the Jeep as he drove them out of the parking lot. The more he thought about the worry she'd caused him, the more his neck muscles tightened. If he hadn't finally called John to admit he'd lost her, he'd probably still be tearing the venue apart looking for her.

To his surprise, P.J. broke the silence between them. He'd have sworn she'd rather choke than cave first. "Take me to the Teatro."

Okay, so it was a command rather than an attempt to escape his displeasure. Clenching his teeth against the urge to snarl, he said in a neutral tone, "You're going back to the amphitheater with me."

"No, Jared, I'm not. I'm already checked into the hotel. Take me there."

"You are not staying at a goddamn hotel," he barked. "I won't have it." Hearing himself, everything inside him stilled.

Then the nerve endings that had begun to settle down recommenced their hot, mortified dance of agitation. Jesus. He sounded exactly like his father at his autocratic worst. He might have been channeling the old man from the grave, so closely had his tone come to the one that had hounded his adolescence.

Sucking up all his ire, he stuffed it away. Then he took a deep breath and blew it out. But it didn't matter what he did, because he recognized this for what it was: one wrong comment, one sideways glance away from blowing sky high. He drew more air into his lungs.I am a glacier peak, impregnable and remote.

"We've been through this before," P.J. snapped. "Same song, same dance. Read my lips, Hamilton. You don't get to dictate where I can or cannot stay. I need a break from living with a busload of people and I'm taking one. Drive me to the Teatro. For the next few days you can consider it my home base."

What he considered was just flat out disregarding her wishes. But maybe she could read his mind, because she said flatly, "I'm tired and cranky and you do not want to blow me off. Because I'm warning you, J, I'll pick up the phone and call Wild Wind so fast it'll make your head swirl. And who do you think they'll choose if I demand that either you go or I will?"

He drove her to the Teatro.

He was so angry, though, he could barely see straight. Unleashed emotion was unlike him, and he drew in several deep, silent breaths, trying to get a handle on it. Refusing to let his temper show, he turned his car over to a valet and walked P.J. to the hotel entrance, his clasp on her elbow courteously loose.

"This really isn't necessary, you know," she said, extricating her arm as they entered the lobby. "You can leave me here."

"I need to know where your room is so I can see about getting one nearby. You may have forgotten the threatening note you received last week, but I haven't."

"Of course I haven't forgotten it. But neither have I heard another word from the whack job who sent it."

"And let's hope that continues. But we don't bet your safety on the assumption. You don't have to spend time with me while you're here." He gave her his best ask-me-if-I-give-a-damn look, the one he'd perfected on his father. Then he let his eyes go hard. "But I will do my job."

When she argued no further he accompanied her to the elevator, then down the hallway of her floor. He stood back while she slid the key card into the door slot of her room. But when he followed her inside, she sighed.

Not just your average everyday sigh, either. Awoman sigh. One of those long-suffering exhalations that only females of the species were truly good at. It was wordless, just a breath of air, really.

Yet it still managed to say,What have I ever done to deserve being saddled with this horse's ass?

Temper ratcheting another degree higher, he eyed her butt, noting how firm and round it was, how satisfying it would be to apply the flat of his palm to it. Forcefully.

Jesus, Ace.Shoving his hands deep in his pockets for the second time that day, he followed her into the suite's sumptuous sitting room without noticing the first thing about the decor. What was he thinking? Losing control wasnot in his makeup. And he sure as hell didn't manhandle women!I am a glacier peak.

Impregnable.

Remote.

"No, you know what?" he said aloud. "To hell with that."

P.J. swung around to stare at him. "What are you babbling about?"

"I don't babble. And you owe me an apology. I searched every fucking inch of that amphitheater looking for you." He crossed the room to tower over her. "And, baby, you at least told John one truth. The place is immense." He'd never felt such immediate fear as he had upon discovering she was missing. Furious to know he'd suffered that hot gut and cold sweat over what had basically been P.J. messing with his head, he crowded her against the wall. If she had a working brain cell in her head she'd be afraid.

She'd be very afraid.

"Well, boo hoo." Leading with her chin, she scowled up at him. "For the past five days you haven't had two lousy minutes to spare me-so ask me if I give a rip that you had a few bad moments trying to track me down. I've had a lousyweek and I'll be damned if I'll let you make me feel guilty about my visit with Gert. It's the first decent time I've had since-" Cutting herself off, she slapped hands to his chest and shoved. "Get out of my way. In fact, get out of my room."

He didn't budge. But neither did he put his hands on her. He wanted to, though. Man, did he want to! He'd spent way too much time the past several days reliving their time in that Los Angeles dressing room.

He wasn't stupid; he knew he never should have touched her. Getting her naked, gettinginside her, had been unethical squared.

But, damn. Merely thinking about it almost blew the top of his head off. Which just went to show that it didn't pay to jump the gun patting yourself on the back. He'd been so cocksure he could hold her at arm's length after holding her skin-to-skin close as she'd gone up in flames. And he'd done it, too, by God. Except:

All he had wanted to do, itched to do, was dying to do, beneath all that self-congratulatory restraint, was take her back to bed.

Glacier, Hamilton. Remember the fucking glacier.

But that was hard to do when the thing was evaporating like mist in the jungle, turning his brain into one big steam bath. His anger was gone, his cool shot to hell. All he had left was a raging red-hot case of lust. "Is that what you really want?" he asked her hoarsely. "You want me to leave?"

She obviously read his mood, for her eyes changed, went dark and aware. But she angled her chin up at him. "Yes, I-"

"Because I want what we had in that room in L.A." Only he'd have more control this time. He'd make her come again and again and again while staying a little bit removed. While staying in command.

"Oh,now you're interested in having sex again?" Her eyes narrowed. "What, you suddenly decide I wasn't so lousy at it after all?"

"What?"He stared down at her in shock. "Who the hell said anything about you being lousy at it?"

"You've been avoiding me ever since we did the deed, haven't you?"

"Because I'm supposed to be keeping you safe, not fucking you!"

"Which-let me guess-became a consideration only after you discovered how lousy I was in the sack."

"No, which became a consideration when I quit thinking with my little head long enough to realize how unprofessional I'd been. But you:Damn, Peej, where do you get these ideas? You are so far from lousy I can't believe the thought even crossed your mind."