Susan Mallery - Surrender in Silk

She turned her head away, and he saw the movement of her hair. She wore it loose tonight. Moonlight caught the waves left after the braid had been loosened. He wanted to touch her hair. What would it feel like against his skin? All those years ago, he’d hated making her cut it, but he hadn’t had a choice. His job had been to teach her all she needed to know in order to stay alive. Thank God it had been enough.

“How long since you’ve been able to sleep through the night?” he asked.

She laughed. The sound, so light and pleasing in the still-ness, cut through him like a knife. It caught the edges of old soul wounds and ripped them open, leaving him to gasp at the pain. This ache couldn’t be helped by his pills or even by liquor. God knew, he’d tried the latter enough.

For that moment, before she answered the question, he longed to tell her the truth. That he’d never meant for it to end the way it had. That he’d never meant to hurt her. Their week together had been a miracle for him, something he’d never thought he would experience. But he couldn’t promise anything else. He didn’t know how and even if he did, he didn’t have the right. So he’d stolen that week, thinking she wouldn’t really miss it. Surely he could be forgiven that one selfish act? But he hadn’t been. Because he’d hurt her badly, then he’d had to let her go.

“I slept at night for the first year,” she said. “Then I’d get some time off and I couldn’t sleep much past one or two. I’d be up until dawn. I thought there was something wrong with me, until I asked around and found out everyone had the same problem. Winston told me it would get better. Eventually I’ll learn to rest like normal people. Eventually I’ll recover.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’d like to learn how to forget.”

“Good luck.” He’d never been able to forget any of it.

“Other people forget.”

“Not agents.”

“Are you telling me you don’t know one operative who left the agency and made a normal life for him or herself?”

Zach shrugged. “A few have, but not if they’ve been in it for a while.”

“Define a while.”

“Five or ten years.”

“Gee, that’s comforting,” she said sarcastically. “Thanks.”

“I’m just telling you what I’ve seen.”

“Or what you’ve wanted to see. I believe there’s a difference.”

She’d always been quick. “Maybe,” he conceded.

He leaned back in the wooden chair. The blankets had kept him warm for a while, but now the cold seeped through. He could feel his muscles start to contract, then the shaking began.

He hated weakness. He wanted to get back to work. Being here only gave him too much time to think. That was dangerous. If he thought too much, he might start to feel. Then where would he be?

“It’s a beautiful night,” Jamie said, staring up at the stars.

His irritation at his vulnerability turned to anger, and he lashed out at the only person available.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “I want the truth, not some do-gooder bull neither of us believes.”

“The truth? Are you sure?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “All right. I’m here because seven years ago you told me I had to choose between a normal life and my job. I chose my job. I don’t regret those years. I’m proud of what I’ve done. I’m also ready to make a change. I want to be normal. I want to find my way back.”

Anger bubbled to the surface. “There isn’t a way back,” he said. “There never has been and there never will be. You can’t escape. The job is as much a part of you as your scars and your inability to sleep at night. I warned you, but you didn’t want to listen. You had to have it your way and now you’re paying the price. Don’t come crying to me expecting comfort or solutions. I don’t have either to give.”

Jamie had straightened in her seat and stared at him. He didn’t need a light to know that she was startled by his outburst. He told himself to stop, but he couldn’t. He had to say it all. He had to hurt her because if he didn’t, she might learn the truth.

“If you came back here looking to relive our time together, forget it. I’m not interested in giving any more lessons to rookies.”

She didn’t move. His words lingered in the silence. God, he wanted to call them back, but he didn’t.

Finally she stood up and headed for the front door. “I’m not fooled. You’ve got to be wounded pretty badly to be lashing out at me like that. My question must have hit pretty close to home.” She fumbled with the door. “How long have you wanted out, Zach?”

Zach didn’t speak to her for three days. He and Jamie moved through the house like sharks, circling around each other, silently staking out territory. Neither dominated. It was an uneasy truce at best.

“Not very mature,” she muttered to herself on the morning of the fourth day as she filled the sink with soapy water so she could wash the breakfast dishes. But she wasn’t sure if she was talking about herself or Zach.

She wondered how long they could coexist without having a conversation, then decided she didn’t care how long it went on. Her head told her Zach had been caught off guard by her questions. The way he’d lashed out had proved that. Her heart didn’t care. No words were preferable to the ones he’d thrown in her face three nights ago.

I’m not interested in giving any more lessons to rookies. The sentence still had the power to hurt her. Just thinking about it made her shudder and want to fold her arms protectively across her chest.

Is that all it had been to him? Love lessons? Not even that, she reminded herself. More like sex lessons. Detailed instructions on the pleasures available to the human female-a hands-on workshop given by a master at the art of seduction.

She shook her head. That wasn’t fair. Zach had never tried to seduce her. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to treat her like one of the guys. Not by a single breath had he given away the fact that he’d been interested in her. If he had been interested. Maybe he’d kept her around for that week because it was convenient. He could have a lover without having to work to get one.

“Stop it,” she told herself aloud. She would make herself crazy if she kept this up. She didn’t know all the facts. As she had no plans to ask Zach to explain his motivation and feelings seven years ago, she wasn’t likely to ever really know what he’d been thinking. Maybe he had just been using her.

But even as the thought formed, she pushed it away. That wasn’t the Zach she knew. And if the rumors at the agency were to be believed, he rarely got involved with women and never made it personal. She knew she was the only one he’d brought up to the cabin. Her presence that week hadn’t been about convenience. It couldn’t be. Convenient was an anonymous hotel in a big city, not a private cabin used as a retreat from the world.

He’d tried to hurt her because she’d hurt him. She’d probed a raw wound.

She picked up the bowls and plates and plunged them into the hot, soapy water. As she did, Zach’s bedroom door opened, and he limped out.

He’d given up his cane the second day. She didn’t turn around to look at him, but she could hear his unsteady steps. He might not be speaking to her, but he was eating everything she put in front of him. Usually he washed up the dishes while she went outside after they ate. While he wasn’t sleeping much at night, he more than made up for it during the day, so he was going to regain his strength fairly quickly. That was probably his plan.

It would be easier to strangle her with his bare hands if he was physically fit.

Her mouth pulled up in a smile that quickly faded when she heard the jingle of keys. She glanced up and saw Zach heading to the back door with the Bronco keys in his hand.

He wasn’t going anywhere. She knew that. Yet the fact that he wanted to try to leave cut her to her heart. She sucked in a deep breath and felt the pain clear down to her gut. Damn him for being so difficult, and damn herself for caring about him.

She looked out the window. Zach was still too thin. His jeans hung loose around his narrow hips. He walked slowly, but more confidently than he had the day before. His broad shoulders still stretched out the flannel shirt he wore. She’d always thought he was a beautiful man, if men could be called that. His darkness, the way he held himself aloof from the rest of the world, only added to his charm as far as she was concerned.

He slid onto the driver’s seat. After a few moments of silence, he popped the hood, then limped to the front of the vehicle. She knew the exact second he saw the battery was missing. He turned toward the house and glared at her through the window. She met his gaze without flinching.

“Did you hide the battery?” he asked when he entered the kitchen and slammed the keys down on the counter.

“Yes. The first day.”

“Where is it?”

Dark brown eyes deepened with anger. It was like teasing a tiger. Her momentary feeling of self-satisfaction could easily be followed by a quick slash of killer claws.

She grabbed the pot she’d used to cook oatmeal and dropped it into the sink. For a full minute, the only sound was the slosh of water as she scrubbed the pot clean.

“What do you want from me?” he asked at last.

“Surprisingly, nothing,” she said, staring at the bubbles and avoiding his gaze. After all, she lied. There were so many things she wanted from him, she couldn’t begin to list them all. But this wasn’t the time to discuss them. Neither of them was prepared to be honest.

“I take that back,” she continued. “I do want one thing. I want you to get well and I’m going to stay here and make sure that happens.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Call it something to fill my time until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”