The Prime Objective. Ginna Gray
but his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth hurt.
He had intended to play his cards close and not tip his hand, but the thought of Kate making a life with someone else, loving another man, having children that weren’t his, was so unbearable he blurted out, “I want you back, Mick. I’m willing to accept a transfer. I can place a call right now and make it happen. My decision. Not yours. We’ll go through another wedding ceremony and start over.”
“Oh, please. Who’re you trying to kid, Jack? You nearly choked just getting that out. Had it been any more difficult you would have had to ram your hand down your throat and pull the words out. So don’t tell me it’s your decision. We both know that you would never have made that offer if it weren’t for me.”
“I still mean it.”
“Maybe right now you do. But I know you, Jack. You’ll grit your teeth and dutifully put on a suit and tie every day and go in to the office. But within six months you’ll either go stark, staring mad or come up with an excuse to return to undercover work. You’re addicted to the danger and the intrigue. And the agency will back you up. You’re a valuable asset to them in the field.”
Kate stopped pacing, and the vice around Jack’s heart tightened as he watched her anger fade into sadness. She held his gaze and shook her head slowly. “It took me years to gather the strength to end our marriage. I won’t be drawn back into that unhappiness again.”
Turning away, she walked to the room’s only window and looked out, her arms folded over her middle.
He stared at her back, her unyielding posture, struggling to breathe. “So that’s it? We’re through?”
“Jack, we’ve been through for over a year. Ever since the divorce,” she said so gently that he could have shaken her.
He had an almost irresistible urge to rant and rave and declare that this whole thing was crazy, that when two people loved each other the way they did there had to be a way to work things out. But even stronger was the worry that if he pushed her she might give voice to his worst fear—that she no longer loved him.
Taking risks, international cat-and-mouse games, even life-and-death situations—he could handle all those. But hearing Kate utter those words was something he didn’t think he could take.
“I see. Well then, I guess our conversation is over,” he managed with what he thought was admirable aplomb. He stood up. “I guess we’d better get our things together and head for Houston.”
“Jack.” Turning back from the window, Kate gazed at him with a mixture of regret and sadness. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Hey. Don’t worry about it. You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a wan smile. “Yes, I did.”
She paused, and seemed to be waiting for him to say something more. Keeping his head down, he continued to stuff his dirty clothes into an outside pocket on his hangup bag, and after a moment she added, “For what it’s worth…I’m glad we had this talk.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“It not only cleared the air between us, it made me realize how unfair I’m being to you. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I’m sorry. I was in a panic and not thinking clearly when I sent you that message. My safety and well-being are no longer your responsibility. I can’t ask you to risk your life to protect me, Jack. So…if you’ll just…well…maybe give me a few pointers on how I can go about finding Colleen you can go back to your assignment and—”
“Forget it, Kate,” he snapped, his nonchalant mask crumbling. “Hell, you won’t last another twenty-four hours on your own. And if I went back now I’d be useless. No, strike that. I’d be worse than useless. I’d be a liability to the other agents on the project. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the mission for imagining you zipped up in a body bag.
“So do me a favor and shut up about handling this situation on your own. Just save your breath and pack your things and let’s get on with it.”
Five
Kate flipped her cell phone closed. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she turned her gaze out the passenger window. Absently she noticed that they’d reached the northern edge of Houston.
Dammit, she felt so…so frustrated. So helpless. Since leaving Palestine almost two and a half hours ago she’d called her sister eight times. Eight! All with the same result. Nothing. She wanted to scream.
Dammit, Colleen. Where are you? And what have you gotten us into? And why the devil won’t you turn on your phone?
Jack wasn’t helping matters. Beyond an abrupt yes or no or an occasional grunt in response to her attempts at conversation, he had barely spoken to her the entire trip.
Not that she blamed him. He had a right to be angry. It had been unfair of her to end their marriage as she had. And now she’d dragged him halfway around the world, away from his job, and embroiled him in a deadly game of who-knew-what. She had taken shameless advantage of his feelings for her when she had absolutely no right to do so.
But no matter how much guilt she heaped upon herself, she could not see how she could have done anything different. Except to die—a long, lonely death in the case of her marriage, or a quick, violent one at the hands of those men.
Kate sneaked a peek at Jack out of the corner of her eye. As usual, his expression was unreadable. He needed a haircut, she noticed. His normally short hair curled over his collar and the tops of his ears and an errant lock flopped onto his forehead no matter how many times he raked it back with his fingers.
Her gaze ran over his angular face and traced his strong profile. At once she experienced a familiar shiver of pleasure. A lot had changed between them, she thought, but not that. Though she didn’t love him anymore, Jackson Prime was still the most deliciously virile man she had ever met.
Unable to help herself, Kate continued her inspection, her gaze traveling downward over that hard body that she knew so well, skimming over narrow hips and long legs, then making the return trip, eventually settling on his hands, gripping the steering wheel.
She had always been fascinated by Jack’s hands. They were long fingered and wide palmed, large and competent and graceful, in a thoroughly masculine way. Like the rest of him, the skin on his hands was bronze, the backs sprinkled with short, black hairs. Hands capable of great strength and stunning gentleness.
Another shiver rippled through Kate at the memory of how those hands had touched her in the past.
She forced herself to look away and focused again on the gas stations, strip malls and fast food joints zipping by. Her mouth twisted. No, the chemistry between them hadn’t changed. Jack was the only man in the world who could light her fire without so much as a touch.
And whenever he put his mind to seducing her she didn’t stand a chance. She’d always been a sucker for his roguish charm.
Which was the main reason she’d gone about ending their marriage as she had, and why she’d insisted that Jack not contact her after signing the divorce papers. Getting over him had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done. She’d known that she couldn’t risk falling in love with him all over again.
Kate sighed. This powerful attraction had been there from the beginning—from the moment their eyes first met—and time had done nothing to diminish the heat.
But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
“Still the same, huh?”
Kate jumped, her gaze shooting to Jack. Dear, Lord! Had she spoken her thoughts aloud? To her chagrin she felt her cheeks burn.
“Wh-what?”
He nodded toward the cell phone in her hand. “No answer.”
“Oh. Um…no.” She felt like a fool and at the same time