Chapter Twenty-Nine

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

O f all the things he’d thought he’d hear Jazz say, her telling him that Franco Bass’s assassin was her brother had not been on his radar.

Examining her face, he saw resolve, fear, and a whole lot of guilt. What he didn’t see was doubt.

“Sit down and tell me.”

Still gripping the laptop, Jazz perched on the edge of the chair across from him. “I know it’s him… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before… I just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Slow down and start from the beginning.”

As if a dam had burst, she explained how she’d followed the shooter out the door of the restaurant and what she’d seen. She described the features that had given her the notion that the shooter was her brother. She explained how and why she’d chosen to conduct her own investigation. Her abduction in the middle of that investigation had, of course, halted everything.

He now knew why she’d taken off on her own. Why she’d removed the tracker. And why she’d been investigating the case by herself. Before he could get his head wrapped around the possibility that Brody McAlister really was the assassin who’d taken out one of the Wren Project’s major players, he had to know one thing.

“Why the hell would you not tell us, Jazz? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

If guilt had had a face, it was Jazz’s. “I panicked. I thought if I could find him first, I could convince him to come in on his own and work with us.”

“Do you think your abduction had anything to do with him?”

“What?” Horror replaced the guilt. “Of course not. Brody would never have anything to do with me being hurt.”

“If the assassin truly is your brother, do you really know him anymore? Would you ever have considered that he would become a paid assassin?”

All the air left her body as she slumped down into her chair. Maybe she hadn’t considered that, and he didn’t want to hurt her any more, but it was something they needed to pursue. If—and it was a big if—the shooter actually was Brody.

“Okay, let’s go over it again. Tell me specifically why you think he’s your brother. Leave nothing out.”

With meticulous detail, which was one of her greatest gifts, Jazz described every aspect of the event, from the time the bullet had left the chamber of the gun that had killed Bass. He’d been there for the first part of it, but still he listened carefully, knowing that she often saw things he didn’t.

When she finished, he said carefully, not wanting her to shut down, “Jazz, do you not trust me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

He hated seeing the pain in her face. She had been getting her color back and light back into her eyes. Now she looked defeated and so incredibly sad.

“I’m sorry. I just…” She closed her eyes and blew out a long sigh. “I kept envisioning scenarios where the team and Brody, or you and Brody, got into a confrontation. No matter what happened in it, someone I loved got hurt. I thought if I could take care of the matter myself, I could protect everybody.”

Holding out his hand, he said, “Come here, baby.”

She took his hand, and he pulled her gently to him and then into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he said gruffly, “You’re not only important to me, you’re important to the entire team. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know I should have trusted you. But we’d just had that argument about Brody, and I—” She shrugged and added, “I just didn’t know how you’d handle it.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and just held her close while a multitude of emotions battled within him. Yeah, he was hurt that she hadn’t trusted him, but in a way, he could see her point. He hadn’t exactly been quiet about his opinion of her brother. And now it looked like he had one more reason to not like the guy.

“So what happens now?” Jazz asked.

“You know the answer to that. You have to tell Ash.”

“I know,” she said softly. “You think he’ll fire me?”

He jerked at the thought. “Hell no. We’ve all screwed up, even Ash.”

“But I held back intel on an ongoing op.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t going to be pissed, but he’ll get past it. Promise me something.”

“What?”

Shifting her so he could see her face, he let the anger show. “Don’t ever keep anything from me again. We’re partners. We trust each other and tell each other the truth, even when it hurts.”

“I promise.”

Even though he knew they needed to make the call to Ash, Xavier couldn’t resist the luxury of just holding her in his arms for a little longer. When Jazz was healthy and on her game, she could sometimes be as prickly as a cactus. And while he’d never want to see her hurt or weak again, he couldn’t help but enjoy this needy, vulnerable Jazz.

So he held her, relishing that she was in his arms, that she had finally told him the truth, and that things between them, while not perfect, were finally headed in the right direction.

Jazz opened her eyes and looked around, vaguely surprised that she was in her bedroom at the cabin. Her body felt relaxed and worry-free, and for the first time since she’d been abducted, she felt no pain anywhere.

As events from earlier came back to her, she tensed. She had finally told Xavier the truth. It hadn’t been fun. Though there had been hurt and anger, she’d also seen understanding and forgiveness. Other than a few initial questions, he hadn’t even really questioned the validity of her belief that the shooter was Brody. That was trust and true partnership. He had given that to her, and from now on, no matter what, she would do the same.

After that, she’d been exhausted. She vaguely remembered him carrying her to bed, and the instant her head hit the pillow, she’d been out like a light. She also remembered getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and brush her teeth. When she’d come back to bed, she had been surprised because she hadn’t noticed that the place beside her on the bed had been occupied. Xavier had lain down beside her when he’d brought her in and never left.

He’d been sitting on the bed, apparently ready to leave her alone when she had returned from the bathroom. She had whispered, “Stay,” and he’d given her a smile she’d felt all the way to her soul.

“Let me lock up, and I’ll be back.”

True to his word, he’d returned ten minutes later and pulled her into his arms. They had slept like that all night.

Suddenly, achingly aware of the big body lying beside her, Jazz rolled over and let her eager gaze roam over him. When he was awake, Xavier had the alert awareness of a jungle cat. Asleep, his appearance was no less dangerous, but at least with his eyes closed, he didn’t look as though he could see her every thought.

She had never told him that the first time she’d seen him, he had terrified her with that searing look. When she’d gotten to know him, the terror had shifted. Wary respect had moved to admiration and then to genuine affection. Those feelings morphed over time, and then one day, without even realizing when it had happened, she knew she loved him. Not just love in a friendship way, but love in the deepest sense of wanting to spend every moment of every day with him for the rest of her life.

Fantasizing about kissing him, making love with him, had taken up more time than even she would admit. Then there were the days that she had dreamed he felt the same way, too. She had never considered herself a romantic. She’d fought too hard most of her life to not see things in a rational and logical manner, but the emotions Xavier invoked in her made her feel both vulnerable and ultrafeminine.

“Good morning,” Xavier said in a sleep-husky voice.

Startled, she looked at his face, feeling a blush start from the tips of her toes and travel rapidly throughout her body. She couldn’t hide the fact that she had been ogling him like some kind of salivating idiot.

“Morning,” she said softly. “Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time.”

Unable to lie beside him and not touch, Jazz raised a tentative hand and lightly traced the curve of his mouth as it tilted up in a smile. She had dreamed of kissing those lips so often that she had thought she would know their taste, their texture. But when he’d kissed her the first time, it had been better than she could have ever believed possible. She wanted to taste them again.

“What do you want, Jazz?”

“You, Xavier,” she whispered. “Just you.”

In a swift, graceful move, Xavier rose up and hovered over her. Straddling her hips, he braced himself with his hands on either side of her shoulders. Eyes glittering with need, sensual mouth still turned up, he looked like a beautiful pirate assessing his bounty. From the gleam in his eyes, he liked what he saw.

Apparently seeing the acceptance in her expression, he sat up slightly and tugged his T-shirt over his head. Jazz’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen him shirtless numerous times, but she’d never had the opportunity to reach out and touch the granite-hard muscles. His skin was naturally bronze from his mother’s side of the family, and the instant she touched him, her stomach did a double dip. He was like warm, hard silk that her fingers longed to explore. Before she got farther than the eight-pack abs, Xavier took her hands, kissed each one, and then raised them over her head. Then he pulled her T-shirt over her head.

Jazz wasn’t ashamed of her body. She was naturally small and not especially curvaceous, but with her weight loss, she wasn’t particularly fond of how she looked right now. The expression on Xavier’s face told her he didn’t agree. Along with a ravenous need that made her feel gloriously feminine and desirable, his heated gaze filled with awe and wonder as it roamed over her body.

“You’re beautiful, Jazz.” The husky gravel in his voice sent fire throughout her bloodstream.

Before she could consider a response, Xavier bent down and proceeded to show her exactly how much he wanted her. With his mouth, his hands, his words, every caress, every kiss, and every growling word, he created a maelstrom of desire she’d never experienced. Need grew and expanded until she was solely a sentient being, glorying and reveling in everything he gave her.

By the time he slid into her, Jazz was not much more than a whirlpool of heated desire, wanting only to reach that exquisite peak, but almost afraid to arrive because she never wanted the pleasure to stop. With every ebb and flow of Xavier’s body into hers, she gained a new understanding of giving and receiving physical gratification. She felt treasured, desired, and, most of all, adored.

Almost at the pinnacle, nanoseconds away from the ultimate ecstasy, Xavier growled into her ear, “Come with me, baby.”

Jazz wrapped her arms around Xavier’s shoulders, her legs around his waist, and welcomed the pleasure she’d only ever experienced in this man’s arms.