“He doesn’t like being helped out,” he said knowingly. “I ought to know. He threw a punch at me one time when I spotted a guy with a grenade and got to him first. He doesn’t like making mistakes. He’ll get over what happened out there.”
“Will he?” she asked, her eyes wide and sad. “He won’t even talk to me.”
“Reaction. You have to remember, Gabby, he’s been out of action for a while. This sort of thing—” he waved his hand “—you don’t forget, but sometimes it brings back bad memories. He got shot up pretty bad once.”
“He told me,” she said absently.
His eyes narrowed. “Now, that’s interesting.”
“Just to satisfy my curiosity,” she added.
“I used to wonder if he was ever going to settle down,” he said enigmatically. “But there was never a special woman.”
“I suppose he liked leaving his doors open,” she murmured, “in case he couldn’t adjust to a desk job.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” First Shirt said. His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “None of us have ties. They’re too much of a luxury in this kind of work.” He searched her wide eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed. Take care of Archer. He’s gone too far to come back to us, but maybe he doesn’t realize it yet.”
“I wish you were right, First Shirt,” she said with a sad smile.
“My name—my given name—is Matthew.”
She smiled. “Matthew.”
“Keep in touch once in a while, will you?” he asked as he turned. “Archer’s a damned bad correspondent.”
“I’ll do that,” she promised, flattered.
Her eyes followed his lean figure down the hall. She was already thinking about Christmas. Socks, she decided. Lots of socks and gloves. She started back toward the bedroom.
It was deathly quiet after Martina and Roberto left, and one by one the men seemed to vanish. Later she learned that everybody except First Shirt had already left the country for other places, just as secretively as they’d come. She’d grown attached to them in that short space of time. Of course, the circumstances were unusual, to say the least.
Laremos was his charming self at the evening meal, but J.D. was still brooding and he wouldn’t look at Gabby.
“When are we going back?” she asked J.D. finally, in desperation.
“Tonight.” He bit the words off.
“I’ll double-check to make sure I’ve packed everything.” She stood up. “Señor Laremos, thank you for your hospitality. Under different circumstances, it would have been lovely. I’m sorry we didn’t get to see the Mayan ruins.”
“So am I, Gabby,” he said sincerely. “Perhaps you may return someday, and it will be my pleasure to show them to you.” He made her a handsome bow and she smiled at him as she left the room.
Minutes later, J.D. joined her, presumably to get his own things packed. He had slept downstairs with the men the night before, but his case was still in the bedroom. Gabby had considered packing for him, but she was nervous about antagonizing him any more.
She looked up from her suitcase when he closed the door. His face was still hard as granite, and his eyes glanced off hers coldly. He didn’t say a word as he began to fill the small bag on the chair across from the bed.
“Are you all right?’ she asked finally, when the silence became uncomfortable.
“Yes, I’m all right,” he said gruffly. “Are you?”
She shrugged and smiled wanly. “It was the experience of a lifetime.”
“Wasn’t it, though?” he asked curtly. His eyes blazed as he studied her flushed face.
“Why are you so angry?” she asked.
He dropped his eyes to the bag and shoved his combat fatigues into it. “What makes you think I am?”
“You’ve barely spoken to me since we came back.” She moved around the bed to stand beside him, her emotions in turmoil, her mind confused. She looked at his big body and remembered with staggering clarity how it looked without clothing, how it felt to be held by those hard arms and kissed by that mouth.
“Jacob, what have I done?” she asked softly, and touched his arm.
His hard muscles tensed beneath her touch, and when he looked down at her she had to fight the urge to back away.
“What the hell did you think you were playing at out there?” he asked coldly. “Didn’t you realize that the bullets weren’t blanks, that we weren’t acting out some scenario from a television show? You’re a dull little secretary, not a professional soldier, and if the force of the recoil hadn’t knocked you down, you’d have been killed, you stupid child!”
So that was it. Shirt had been right, his pride was hurt because Gabby had seen a threat and he hadn’t. “J.D., if I hadn’t shot him, he’d have killed you,” she said, trying to reason with him.
He slammed the bag back down. “Am I supposed to thank you?”
Her temper was blazing now, too. “Don’t strain yourself,” she told him icily. “And I am not a dull little secretary!”
“Don’t kid yourself,” he said, staring at her. “You aren’t Calamity Jane and you’re never likely to be. You’ll get married to some desk jockey and have a dozen kids.”
Her face paled and his eyes narrowed when he saw it. “What’s wrong, honey?” he taunted. “Were you expecting a proposal from me?”
She turned away. “I expect nothing from you.”
“Liar.” He caught her arm and swung her around. Seconds later, she was flat on her back on the bed and he was looming over her, holding her down.
“Let me up, Jacob!” she burst out, struggling.
He threw a long, powerful leg across hers and pinned her, his hands on her wrists. “Now fight,” he said coldly, “and see how far you get.”
She gave up finally and lay breathing heavily, glaring up at him. “What’s this supposed to prove, that you’re stronger than I am? Okay, I’m not arguing.”
His dark eyes wandered slowly over her body, lingering on the curves outlined by her tight jeans and the expanse of bare skin where her shirt had ridden up during the struggle. Her breath caught, because she wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hem of the garment was just below the curve of her breasts.
“I wanted you yesterday morning,” he said bluntly. “And if you hadn’t been a virgin, I’d have taken you. But you were just a body to me, so if you’ve been weaving me into your future, forget it.”
Her heart leaped in her chest. It was true, she had, but she couldn’t let him see just how involved she was emotionally. Very obviously, that wasn’t what he wanted from her.
“I haven’t asked you for any promises, have I?” she asked quietly, searching his dark eyes. “You’re safe, Jacob. I’m not trying to tie you down.”
His fingers contracted. “For your sake I hope that’s true,” he said in a menacing tone. “Make damned sure that you don’t ever try.”
Her lips parted to ask a question, but he moved suddenly. One hand imprisoned both of hers above her head. The other pulled up the shirt, baring her taut breasts to his eyes.
“Now, Gabby, let me show you how a real mercenary treats women.”
She lay still, feeling half-afraid of him as he covered her with his own taut body. His hands touched and gripped and his body moved suggestively, making