Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

       Nine

      Once Kevin was gone, Jack gave in to the tension screaming inside him. Stalking across the room, he made for the terrace, pushing open the French doors and stepping into the icy blast of wind that rushed at him. He turned his face into that wind and wished to hell it could blow all of his churning thoughts right out of his head.

      “Jack?”

      Teeth gritted, he kept his gaze on the expanse of the ocean streaked with the brilliant colors of sunset rather than turn to face the woman who’d become too important to him. Until Kevin had come by tonight, Jack hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to depend on Rita’s presence in his life. He was already in too deep, he knew that because of just how much he’d needed her by his side when Kevin was in the house. Needed her to anchor him.

      And that bothered Jack plenty.

      “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, husky, filled with concern that scraped at him. He didn’t want her worried about him, caring about him, God help him, loving him.

      He’d once vowed that he would never put anyone in the position of having to mourn him. And the more she cared, the more pain she risked. How was he supposed to stand by and let her get deeper into feelings that would only carry the promise of future pain?

      Damn it, this marriage was supposed to be temporary. Supposed to be emotion-free. A bargain. Yet somehow, in spite of his best efforts it had turned into more. The question now was, what was he prepared to do about it?

      “Jack?” she asked again. “Are you okay?”

      “Fine.” He bit the word off, hoping she’d take the damn hint for once and leave him alone. Give him enough space to get himself together again. To find the center that had slipped out of his grasp the minute he saw Kevin in that chair.

      “You don’t sound fine,” she said and came up beside him. She shivered in the cold wind and rubbed her hands up and down her arms for warmth. She was only wearing white capris and a short-sleeved pink T-shirt. Her bare feet had to be freezing on the concrete floor. But she wasn’t leaving. He knew her well enough now to expect that.

      When he didn’t speak, she tried another tack. “Kevin seems nice.”

      Nice. Yeah, he was. He was also smart. Funny. And in a damn chair for the rest of his life. Jack closed his eyes briefly. “You don’t have to do this.”

      “What am I doing?”

      “Helping.” He glanced at her. “I don’t need your help. And I don’t need to be soothed.”

      “That’s what you think?” she asked, leaning against the railing to look up at him. “Everybody needs help sometimes, Jack. You’re not a superhero.”

      Silently, he laughed at the idea. He was as far from a superhero as anyone could get.

      “Didn’t say I was and if I want help,” he added, shooting her a dark look that should have sent her skittering for cover, “I’ll ask for it.”

      Naturally, he told himself, Rita paid no attention to his warning look. Instead, she laughed and the raw, sexy sound awakened every cell in his body.

      “Sure, you’ll ask for help. Jack,” she said with a smile. “You wouldn’t ask for water if you were on fire.”

      The fact that she was right only irritated him further. How much more was he expected to take tonight? Facing down a friend whose life was forever changed wasn’t enough? God, he needed time alone. He needed to think.

      “You’re staring out at that ocean like you expect to find answers there.”

      “I don’t need answers, either,” he ground out. “I just need some space. Time. Some damn solitude. God, I can’t even remember what it’s like to be completely alone anymore.”

      That insult sailed right over her head. She just didn’t listen to what she didn’t want to hear. In a way, he admired that about her. Even when it worked against him.

      “If you think you can insult me into walking away, you’re wrong.”

      Exasperated, he blew out a breath. “Then what will it take?”

      “There’s nothing you can do that will make me leave you alone right now,” Rita said. “You’ve had enough solitude, Jack. Maybe too much.”

      “Fine. You won’t leave, I will.” He turned, but stopped when she laid one hand on his arm.

      “I’ve got some of those answers you don’t need.” She paused and he knew she was waiting for him to look at her. Finally, he did.

      “What are you talking about now?”

      Shrugging, she said, “You said you didn’t need answers, but you do. And here’s one for you. You’ve been torturing yourself for months over Kevin, Jack. But there was no need. You saw him. He’s happy.”

      He scraped one hand across his face. “He’s in a chair.”

      “That’s not your fault.”

      “Yeah, well, saying it doesn’t make that true.” He shifted his gaze back out to the water and watched that darkening surface churn with the wind. Looking out at the sky and sea was so much easier than looking into whiskey-colored eyes that saw too much. “You weren’t there. I was.”

      “So was Kevin,” she pointed out, refusing to let it go. “And he doesn’t blame you.”

      “He should.” His gaze narrowed on that wide, roiling water and he felt it replicated in his own soul. “Damn it, if I had made a different call, it wouldn’t have happened.”

      “My God, you’re stubborn,” she said, sliding over to stand between him and the railing, so that he was forced to look at her. “Yes, you were in charge and you made the decisions, but making different ones might not have kept everyone safe. Maybe a different call would have killed Kevin. Or you. Or someone else. There’s just no way to know and no point in continuing to drag yourself over the coals like this.”

      He shook his head. He couldn’t speak. What was there to say, anyway? She couldn’t get it and he didn’t blame her. No one who wasn’t there could ever understand what it was to hold men’s lives in your hands. One wrong call and people died. Or lost their legs.

      “Are you really so determined to carry the weight of the world?”

      She made it sound as though he were being self-indulgent. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He had a right to feel like a damn bastard for what had happened to Kevin. To the new guy in their squad, DeSantos, who had died in that skirmish. Was he supposed to just close it off, pretend it hadn’t happened? He couldn’t do that. “Leave it alone, Rita.”

      “He thanked you for saving him, Jack.”

      “I was there,” he pointed out, barely sparing her a glance. She didn’t get it. Didn’t know what it had been like to see his best friend lying wounded in front of him and not being able to do a damn thing about it. Didn’t understand the guilt of coming home with both arms, both legs. Didn’t know what it was to keep all of that locked inside you until you felt like you were going to explode.

      This was why he’d never talked to his family. He couldn’t share with them what they couldn’t understand. Oh, they would try, but their pity for him would get tangled up in the facts and they’d only end up more worried about him than they already were.

      She laid both hands on his chest and the heat of her slid inside him like a welcome balm, easing the harsh waves of regret and anger and frustration still roiling within. As much as he loved her touch, he almost resented it because it was temporary. She wouldn’t be here for much longer and when she was gone it would be so much harder to be without her.

      “Jack.