Woman Of Innocence. Lindsay McKenna
a million years would Jenny have thought Matt Davis, military hero, would have such a tender side to him. She felt like a wilted flower thriving beneath the sunlight of his care and concern. Her heart flooded with such joy that it took her breath away. Trying to sit passive beneath his scrutiny, she waited for him to speak.
“You know what? I like you just the way you are. It makes me respect you a lot more knowing what you’ve gone through.” He tapped the papers in his hand. “These questions are excellent. They cut to the heart of the matter, reach the core of the interviewee. You couldn’t create insightful questions like this if you didn’t have intelligence and a very good grasp of the human condition. As a merc, I strive to maintain similar qualities because it keeps us alive out in the field. You’ve got the right stuff, Jenny. It shows here.” He tapped the papers again. “You’re very good at what you do. Even if you have to hang off chandeliers and do it upside down, what does that matter? What counts is the product. And it doesn’t bother me that you’re restless or that you talk fast. I like to hear your thoughts, what’s in that big heart of yours, and how you see the world.”
Matt saw her eyes widening at every statement he made about her. Then her face went rose-red as she blushed to the roots of her blond hair. “And as for being a ’fraidy cat, well, let me share this with you. I’m afraid all the time. The only thing that might be different between us is that I don’t overreact in the moment. I try to handle my fear and keep thinking clearly through it.” He managed a slight smile. “Where we’re going, there’s going to be a lot of bugs and spiders because it’s jungle. But my bet is that you can use this situation to work through your fear and try to keep thinking, despite how you feel. I have faith in you, Jenny. And you know what else? I think Morgan picked the perfect person to head up this mission. I wouldn’t have been able to create the questions you have. I don’t have the training. I’m not a psychologist. You obviously know people, know how to touch them on a very deep, core level.”
Choking back a lump that was forming quickly in her throat, Jenny stared at him. She was in shock. Finally, she whispered, “I—I’ve never had anyone give me so many compliments all at once. Are you sure you mean them? You aren’t just saying that because you feel sorry for me?”
To hell with it. Matt reached out and grazed her flaming red cheek with his thumb. Again her eyes went a soft, velvet blue, and he knew his touch had a positive and magical affect on her. It was impossible not to touch Jenny. And it had been a helluva long time since he’d wanted to touch a woman like he was touching her. Maybe it was her vulnerability that brought out his own vulnerable side, which he’d carefully hidden from the world.
“As you get to know me better, Jenny, you’ll know I’m not the most diplomatic person around. I am honest, though. To a fault. And sometimes—” Matt grimaced “—sometimes my shoot-from-the-hip honesty hurts the other person unintentionally.”
“Honesty is good. Truth never goes out of style.” She nodded and looked away. “You really think I’m cut out for this mission? I’ve had such angst about it. I worry you won’t think I can carry my end of things. I worry that you’ll think I’m nothing. Worthless. And I worry that you think you have to baby-sit me because Morgan twisted your arm.”
Breaking out into quiet laughter, Matt raised his eyes upward. “You are a worrywart, Jenny. No doubt about it.” When he saw her wince, he added gently, “I can handle your worry. What you have to do is put to rest all those other items. None of them are true. I’m glad I’m on this mission. And yes, Morgan did twist my arm—a little. And no, I didn’t think you had what it took until I saw your questions and got more info on you as a person. Adding it all up now, I’m very confident about the mission, and you. Morgan was right—you need to be in charge. I’ll be here to support you when you ask for my help. Frankly speaking, I think you’re going to do a helluva good job. I think you’ll be able to pick the right three volunteers for those missions.”
Jenny sat there, astonishment flowing through her. The sincerity in Matt’s voice and that incredible warmth in his slate-colored eyes filled her with a happiness she’d never, ever experienced before. He believed in her. And in her heart she knew he wasn’t lying. Her self-esteem got a big boost. Because of his belief in her, she felt the first trickle of actual confidence in herself and the mission.
Impulsively, she reached out and slid her hand against his sandpapery cheek. Though he’d shaved early this morning, that five o’clock shadow was there, making him look even more dangerously handsome. She saw his eyes narrow instantly as she briefly caressed him. Her heart pounded when she recognized the look in his eyes: the look of a hunter stalking his prey—her. Jenny didn’t know what to think or say. She’d never seen a man look at her like Matt Davis was right now—with desire. Blatant, raw desire.
A warmth stirred deep within her, and that took her off guard, as well. Now her whole body was responding to his smoldering, dark look. Egads, what was going on? She felt unsure of herself in so many ways.
Jerking her hand away from his cheek, she quickly tucked it back in her lap and looked away.” “I never expected this…. You’re so kind and caring….”
It took everything Matt had not to sweep Jenny into his arms and hold her. Simply hold her. That’s what she needed. She needed someone to praise her. To tell her that she was a good person, capable of intelligent work. Stiffening his arms at his sides to make sure he didn’t do anything he might regret, he rumbled, “You bring all this out in me. It’s you.”
Chapter Four
Jenny tried to swallow her surprise as they stood in the office of Gringo Bill’s Hostel with the owner, Margerite Kaiser.
“You’re in room 35, Senor Williams. You and your wife will be on the top floor, with a complete view of the plaza, not to mention beautiful Machu Picchu.”
A short woman with a cloud of curly black hair, Margerite smiled as she lifted a key from the box on the wall, her brown eyes sparkling.
Jenny gulped. Wife? Was that what the woman had called her? Frantically, she searched her sleep-deprived brain for this detail of their mission, but came up empty. They had landed at Lima at 4:30 a.m. and caught the first flight out to Cuzco, at 5:20. From there they’d taken the Inca train down to Agua Caliente. Now, as she watched Matt lean over the desk and sign a fictitious name, she tried to recall if he or Morgan had mentioned they would be traveling as man and wife. All undercover agents went by fictitious names, but posing as Matt’s wife? And then Jenny remembered reading somewhere in the back of the report that Matt and she would pose as a couple, tourists from North America—Matt and Jenny Williams. She was no longer Jenny Wright, single woman from Montana.
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