Dawn Endeavor 3: Julian's Jeopardy (10 page)

“Come in, please.”

She stepped back, and he followed her inside.

“Close the door.”

He gritted his teeth but closed the door behind him. He turned and walked into Mrs. Sharpe's fastidious study. Everything had its place. A computer, fax, printer, and copier rested against the back wall in a floor-to-ceiling wooden hutch.

File cabinets and a matching desk, which sat opposite the hutch, had been crafted of rich mahogany. He could see his reflection in the wood, polished to a fine sheen. The ornate pair of chairs that faced her desk had a floral, feminine design with enough strength to accommodate his frame. New chairs to replace the ones Fallon and Tersch had broken in their last big battle. When they'd fought over who would rescue him.

As much of a pain in the ass as that fight must have been, he wished he'd been here to see it.

Against another wall sat a couch facing two chairs and a coffee table. A comfortable place for lectures and meetings with the esteemed Mrs. S. Or as Ava laughingly called her, a “pain in my S.”

He held back a smile at the thought, irritated when Mrs. Sharpe quirked her lips, as if reading his damned mind. He reinforced the shields around his thoughts, fairly sure the autocratic woman could read him if she wanted. Though she'd never admitted to psychic abilities one way or the other, she'd helped the others expand theirs.

Fallon and Olivia were much stronger at broadcasting thoughts and handling emotions, respectively. Hayashi could control some of his visions now, focusing his talent where he needed it. Before working with Mrs. Sharpe, he never would have been able to pinpoint where to find Jules in South America.

Jules knew the woman had power. Hell, he could feel the vibrations anytime he came in contact with her. But that didn't mean he trusted her. She held back from them, and he knew it, even if the others didn't really care. Fallon and Hayashi both credited her with finding them their mates. Though Jules thought the same, he knew the woman had a reason for doing so. His inner beast retreated when in her presence, trying to hide deep inside him. That fact alone made him wary.

She tucked a strand of frosted dark hair behind her ear and motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs across from her desk. Instead of sitting next to him, though, as she often did, she sat behind her desk, an adversarial tactic he could appreciate. Not next to him, like a friend or teammate, but across from him, emphasizing her place as his boss and his as her subordinate.

When she continued to sit and stare at him over steepled fingers, he forced himself to sit where she'd pointed and contained the growl threatening to break free. “Yes?” Hell, he'd rather deal with Morgan's smart mouth or Ava's complaints than undergo the third degree from Mrs. Sharpe.

“I've been searching for the right person for months. I think Geoffrey has found us a keeper. She's not a doctor, but she's practiced in the arts of alternative medicine. I think she's the person we need. But she'll need to live on-site.” She'd cut right to the chase, a pleasant surprise.

“No.”

“I don't think you understand, Jules. The team has been in need of a medical specialist for some time. With Doc unable to leave his own Circs up North—and for good reason, considering one of the females is pregnant again—we can't afford
not
to have our own specialist here to help us. The missions are growing more dangerous. I know you can all heal yourselves, but we need a better medical presence here. Remember when Kisho returned to us so broken, so beaten? And you can't deny it would have been nice to have someone on hand when we first found you.”

He shrugged.

She frowned. “An understanding of Circ physiology is a necessity in whoever agrees to help us.”

“I don't disagree. But with an unknown unfriendly in high places keeping tabs on us, I don't think it's wise to bring in anyone new right now.”

“Jules, it's not an issue. Olivia will verify that this particular woman is telling the truth when she says she means us no harm.” Olivia could feel a lie, a handy trait unless the person lying was a psychopath who didn't feel as if they were telling an untruth. Mrs. Sharpe narrowed her gaze. “And I don't need your permission to do my job.”

“Then why do you keep asking me for my opinion? You're the boss. Do what you need to do.”

“We both know the team takes its direction from you. While I may administratively command this unit, you're the heart and soul of Dawn Endeavor.

Jules, why do you think we had so many issues when you were gone? Though you all should function without one another, the team knows who's alpha. That's you.”

It made him feel good to hear her acknowledge that. Then he wondered why she bothered. “Go ahead. Drop the other shoe. I know you're up to something.” She sighed and fingered one of her earrings. “Jules, we've been butting heads for close to ten months now. At first I thought it was because you didn't like ceding command to a woman.”

He snorted.

“I know. You couldn't care less about gender. Then I thought perhaps you were angry the admiral no longer took as keen an interest in the Circs. But you know this isn't true. Though he's very much involved with his psychics, he's kept a watchful eye on Dawn Endeavor.” When he didn't respond, she continued. “So I can only conclude that your issues have to do with me, personally.” He leaned forward in his chair. “You act like we're all one big happy family.

You pull and push us to do your bidding, but I know you've not telling us everything. I can sense the untruths, the hidden motivation. You smell powerful, strong, but there's subterfuge there,
Alicia
. And don't think I don't know it.” He unconsciously flexed his muscles, not intending to demonstrate his physical superiority, but the beast raised his head. “I won't tolerate anyone hurting this team. I don't care how strong you are or how many connections you have. These Circs are
mine
.” He ended in a growl.

Instead of displaying fear, the woman nodded. “It's taken you long enough to call me on it. I'm impressed, Julian. That's a lot of patience for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” His beast sized her up. Small, slender, physically underwhelming to the animal that lived under Jules's skin. But her golden aura showed the deception. So much power existed in the older woman. He knew better than to think he could take her out easily. If at all.

Mrs. Sharpe smiled. “You're a natural leader. Someone who takes care of those under him, a man with a full sense of his responsibilities. For months now, you've let me play at being in charge, but we all know it's a front. Even Geoffrey never acknowledged his own authority over your group, despite his rank. He simply maintained a presence in the Dawn Endeavor command structure to facilitate your needs with other agencies.”

Jules cocked his head, trying to get a read on her. “What's your point?”

“My point is that I
do
have an agenda, as you so aptly discerned. But my reasons for being here happen to coincide with doing what's right for Admiral London's projects and for this country. I'm not out to hurt any of your team. Far from it.”

He sat up straight. “You know things you shouldn't know. So what do you know now,
Mrs. Sharpe
? And why the hard-on for this doctor who isn't a doctor?” She frowned. “Jules, really. The language?”

He flushed. “Sorry.” For some reason, the woman could make him feel all of fourteen when she chastised. “My point is, you're not playing straight with me, and I don't like it.”

“Fine. You tell me what's been bothering you, and I'll lay it on the line. Give me that ring on your finger, and I'll tell you exactly who I am and why I'm here.” He blinked and instinctively covered the ring on his finger with his other hand.

“The ring? Why?”

“Tit for tat, Jules.”

“I—No.” He couldn't say why, but taking the ring off was wrong. It belonged to him.
She
belonged to him.
Mine
. His beast snarled at Mrs. Sharpe, and just as quickly Jules tucked the animal back where it belonged. What the hell was that about?

Mrs. Sharpe smiled, and to his shock a flare of red appeared in her pupils. It was gone so quickly, he wondered if he'd imagined it.

“Where did you get that ring?”

“I…” He shook his head, suddenly very confused. “Wait a minute. You've admitted you're here for another reason. You owe it to us to tell us why you're here.”

“Do I?”

The sudden image of a curvy redhead touching him, of her hand healing the wounds on his chest, her big blue eyes round with wonder, struck him.

“You see, Jules,
that’s
why I'm here. I'm just the help, dear.” He shook his head, bemused by the odd flashes he kept having of Sheridan.

“What?”

“It'll make more sense once I'm through with Gunnar.”

“Tersch? What are you talking about?”

She smiled at him. “Why don't you get the door?” He gave her a perplexed look. “I don't understand.” Just then, the doorbell rang.

* * *

Sheridan Keyes stared at the door in front of her. She nervously ran a hand through her hair again, wondering if she would have looked better, more professional, by pulling it back. But Jules had seen it in a ponytail when she'd worn it before. Did it really matter how she looked? Odds were the drugs Julian Hawkins had been pumped full of would have negated him remembering anything about her, let alone his time with Ricardo. She'd come for one reason and one reason only: to get her grandfather's ring.

Sure, keep telling yourself that. As if you don’t care about seeing Jules again.

She licked her lips, feeling underdressed and overwhelmed. From the jungles of Brazil to the urban sprawl of Washington DC to a hidden mansion in the Croatan National Forest in North Carolina? Well, it was a whirlwind way of going from point A to point B. That was for sure.

Finding her way out of the Amazon had been easier than expected, with two larger-than-life Circs helping her. Making the right contacts in DC had been harder, but digging deep to find the courage to face the man—the Circ—she now knew to have a mercenary and murderous past had been hardest of all.

Why didn’t I sense his wrongness when I put that ring on his finger? The
sapphire had never graced an unworthy hand before, and there I go, putting it on a
man who is more than suspect. Dammit. Were the drugs in his system the reason he
seemed so in need of healing? Or had he been tricking me all along, as Raul said
?

Could the man Sheridan had taken deep inside her body, and her heart, really have killed so many for no better reason than to outdo his rival, Ricardo? Had she escaped from one murderer only to be tricked by an even bigger liar?

The thought of her grandfather's ring on the hand of such an undeserving man was unfathomable. But that Sheridan had been so wrong about Julian…that bothered her more than anything.

Perhaps Raul was wrong. Grayson had encouraged her to find out the truth for herself, and she liked and trusted the large Circ much more than Raul. With Grayson's help, she'd landed this job. It would serve, at the very least, as a temporary means of employment until she figured out what to do with her life. And in the process, she'd hopefully find a way to reconcile the Jules she thought she knew with the man he really was.

Yep. I’m going to deal with Jules and focus on work. Work is safe; work is good.

Even if Jules isn’t as horrible as Raul made him out to be, would Jules really want
me anyway? I’m a freak. And a man as handsome as Julian Hawkins would never
lower himself to be with someone like me if he didn’t have another choice
. Right then, the door opened, and her good intentions to treat Jules as no more than a mystery to be solved went right out the window.

Julian Hawkins looked even better now than he did in her dreams. All six feet four inches of prime male stared down at her in shock, which soon turned to suspicion. Did he remember her after all?

“Alicia!” he yelled over his shoulder, then put a hand on her arm and yanked her into the mansion.

His palm completely closed over her thin bicep, and she reminded herself to start lifting weights as soon as she got the hell out of there.

If only she could forget the memories of his touch. The familiar scent of vanilla and grass wafted over her, and she couldn't stifle a soft moan. The minute she did so, his hand loosened.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly but continued to pull her with him through the grand foyer into the house.

Marble under her feet, ornate wooden frames over cream-colored walls, and rich wooden paneling under the chair rail detailed a place reeking of money. The chandelier overhead had to cost a freaking fortune. Sheridan glanced from Jules to the house again, never having anticipated that a man who could change into a beast, who'd actually fit in to the jungle as if a native, would live in such opulence.

But it certainly gave credence to Raul's theory that Jules was a successful crook.

He continued to tug her into the house until he came to a large room where several others stood to greet them.

Three other men and one woman stared at her with curiosity.

“Hello there,” one of the men drawled. Tall with dark brown hair and green eyes, he stood next to a slightly smaller man with a mixture of Asian and Anglican features. Both of them had the same rugged good looks and raw wildness she associated with Jules, and they both towered over her. Beyond them, a large, dark-haired man held hands with a beautiful woman—the kind Sheridan envied.

The woman was tall and slender with curves in all the right places, so pretty and sexy, she made Sheridan fade into the woodwork.
Which is what I want. I’m
nothing but furniture. Don’t see me, don’t know me
. But a part of Sheridan wanted Jules to know her. To never forget the magic they'd shared, even if it had been no more than a passing dream of what could never be.

The woman frowned as she stared at Sheridan, and Sheridan had a bad feeling. She couldn't say why she did, but she raised her awareness and tried to block out any incoming psychic attacks. Growing up as a healer and with parents who could commune with plants, Sheridan believed wholeheartedly in extrasensory perception and the paranormal.