Out of Character (16 page)

She still hated him.

* * * *

Paul leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out in front of him, finally letting himself relax.

Billy walked out of the cockpit. “Is Jillian asleep?” He sat across from Paul and opened a bottle of mineral water.

“I gave her something. She can use the sleep, but after everything that’s happened, she’ll never calm down enough on her own. And the less she knows, the better.”

Billy took a long drink of water. “Any idea how they found you?”

“Last night? They’re still checking into it.”

Billy took another drink then rested the bottle on his thigh. “I was thinking more about Keystone. Jack would never have agreed to let you go if he thought they’d ever trace you there.”

“Probably the same way they found me in D.C.” Paul rolled his shoulders, trying to expel some of the day’s tension. “Don’t tell Jack, but to be honest, I was hoping they’d show. I wanted to finish off the bastard who sentenced me to solitary confinement.” He shook his head. “I sure as hell never expected anyone to shoot at me on a chairlift, though.”

“They must be more than desperate to risk that.” Billy’s brow furrowed. “I can’t understand how anyone tracked you without you knowing it. That sixth sense of yours is usually infallible.”

“I must have gotten out of practice the last six months.” Paul wasn’t about to admit the more likely explanation, that he’d been distracted by Jillian.

“It was functioning again last night.”

“Thank God. I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“I’ll bet,” Billy said. “Spending six months isolated in the Canadian wilderness is my idea of hell.”

“One of the worst assignments I’ve ever had.”

“No matter how tense this job gets, it’s the thought of retiring and flying for some corporation that gives me ulcers. I’ll be doing this until they haul me home in a body bag. I couldn’t live without the excitement.”

“I know what you mean.” Paul laced his fingers together and stretched his arms out in front of him. “Nothing like risking death to make you appreciate life.”

Billy grinned. “And it makes sex fucking unbelievable. Although I assume you didn’t get to enjoy that after nearly getting offed in D.C.”

“Nope, they immediately shipped me away with two guards. Both male.”

“They more than made up for it this time, though.”

“What do you mean?” Paul released his stretch and lowered his arms.

“I mean Dr. Rodgers is one attractive woman. Alone with her…” Billy raised a suggestive eyebrow.

“Besides the guards, you mean? She’s simply an assignment, someone I’m responsible for protecting. She could be eighty years old, and I’d think of her the same way.” Which was how he should be thinking.

From Billy’s snort, he clearly wasn’t buying it, so Paul shifted to a safer topic. “You’ll never guess who I saw the other day. Alex Trent.”

“Jesus.” Billy drummed the fingers of his free hand on the armrest. “I keep expecting to hear he’s cashed it in, but he keeps defying the odds. The man’s a maniac.”

“He’s also totally trustworthy and happened to be available, so Jack used him and a couple other guys to bring Jillian to the house,” Paul said. “Unfortunately, no one bothered to tell her they were with the government, just hauled her in. She didn’t go willingly. She pissed Alex off so much he tied her up, drugged her, even held a gun on her for a while.”

Billy’s rhythm accelerated. “She must have been scared to death.”

“Only until I told her why she’d been picked up. Then she was furious.”

“Because they’d scared her like that?”

“Mostly because she was brought in at all.”

Billy’s fingers stilled. “It’s the only way to guarantee her safety.”

Paul shrugged. “Having your life disrupted out of the blue is rough. Especially for someone like Jillian who’s used to being in control of things.”

Billy’s fingers resumed their cadence. “She seems to be doing okay, if the way she handled getting on the plane is any indication. Lots of women would have had hysterics.”

“Lots of men, too. You should have seen her running through the woods after the place blew up. She does what she needs to. She was raised by a single mom in a lousy part of Chicago and still made it through Harvard Medical School, which says a hell of a lot about her.” Paul covered a yawn.

Billy got to his feet. “I’ll let you get some sleep. I assume you need it after last night.”

Paul nodded. He’d stayed awake in the SUV on the off chance someone might find them. “Wake me fifteen minutes before we refuel so I can give Jillian another shot.”

“Travis or I can do it if you’re asleep. We’ve both had medical training.”

“She’s my responsibility,” Paul said firmly. “Wake me.”

“Will do.” Billy touched his finger to his forehead in a mock salute, and then strode to the cockpit.

Paul got to his feet and headed back to check on Jillian before he slept. She was his responsibility, at his insistence and over Jack Parker’s vehement objections.

That was because Jack was responsible for his safety, also at Paul’s insistence. He and Jack had spent a lot of time dredging out foreign cesspools and saving each other’s asses and other body parts back before Jack had fallen in love with Molly and moved to the more civilized FBI. Paul considered him a good friend and respected his abilities. More important, he trusted Jack implicitly, a rarity in a business like his that attracted people of questionable moral caliber and thrust them into compromising situations. He was damn lucky someone like Jack had his back.

Paul checked Jillian’s pulse, spread a blanket over her, and then returned to his seat. Jack had a point—for Paul to put himself on the line to protect Jillian seemed counterproductive when the primary purpose of this operation was to keep him safe. Of course, Jack didn’t understand why he felt so damn guilty about having involved her, but that’s because he’d never mentioned his gut feeling there would be another leak and his assassin from D.C. would show in Keystone. He’d also never told Jack he’d done more than ski with Jillian, that he’d risked an innocent woman’s safety for sex.

Paul gripped the armrests, bracing himself against the pain he knew was coming. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d been so sure he hadn’t been followed to the slopes that night, but he obviously had been. He’d only insisted on a guard for Jillian because he felt so guilty about her being shot, not because he’d honestly thought she was in danger. Wrong again.

Guilt sliced his gut like a surgeon’s scalpel. No matter what doubts the government had, he knew damn well she’d been targeted because of him. Even if his enemies didn’t know about his first night with her, they’d seen enough on the slopes the second night to know she wasn’t a casual skiing buddy. He’d kissed her, for God’s sake. She’d been targeted either out of concern he’d mentioned something damning to her, to smoke him out, or maybe to punish him. He’d screwed up just like he had with Helene, and this time two innocent women had paid for it.

Paul released the seat as far back as it would recline and closed his eyes. He’d temporarily forgotten that letting a woman affect his emotions and interfere with his judgment inevitably led to disaster, but he had it down now. All Jillian could be was an assignment.

That was proving way easier said than done, since everything she did reminded him of that night with her. She licked her lips, and all he could think about was how they tasted or when he’d woken from a half-sleep to feel them sliding down his torso. She leaned back, and he hardly kept from staring at her breasts, remembering how sensitive they were, how the lightest flick of his tongue made her nipples pearl, how she moaned when he sucked on them. She clenched her fists, even picked up a water bottle, and he remembered how it felt to have her hand close around him, to stroke him. When he’d kissed her at the house in the Rockies, he’d needed all his willpower not to throw her onto the bed and make love to her hard and fast until they were both screaming. Hell, just thinking about her now had him rock hard.

That’s why he was determined to make Jillian dislike him so much she wouldn’t let him near her. Because if she encouraged him at all, he was afraid he’d give into his craving for her. And she’d end up as dead as his wife.

* * * *

“Fifteen minutes until we land,” Billy said.

Paul flipped his chair back upright. “Any problems?”

“Nope. You want to get off when we refuel?”

“Yeah.” Paul got to his feet. “I’ll see to Jillian. I don’t want her waking up yet.”

Billy nodded and returned to the cockpit.

Paul rested his fingers on Jillian’s neck. Her pulse was strong and only a little slow, just like when he’d checked it before. Good.

He caressed her neck and cheek. God, she was beautiful. And tough. She’d shown an amazing amount of guts since she’d been dragged from Denver, especially last night.

He knelt beside her and stroked her cheek a few more times. She shifted, smiling in her sleep. He trailed his fingers across her skin to her hair. She had the silkiest hair. He brushed it with his lips and breathed in her scent, the cherry and almond that had engulfed him in the back seat last night.

“I’m sorry about how I’ve been treating you, but there’s no other way,” he whispered, his mouth at her ear. “You’re too damn distracting.”

He filled the syringe, readied her arm, and inserted the needle.

She groaned.

“I keep on hurting you, don’t I?” He pulled her sleeve back down then smoothed her hair until she seemed peaceful again.

After making sure Billy hadn’t come out of the cockpit, Paul leaned down and kissed Jillian. Her lips were soft and warm, tantalizing even in sleep. “If I remember right, you’re supposed to wake the princess with a kiss, not put her to sleep. But then I’m not much of a prince.”

Paul gave her a last quick kiss. Then he stood and returned to his seat.

“If you don’t wake up soon, you’re going to miss a beautiful landing.”

Jillian opened her eyes then blinked a couple times at the bright sunlight streaming through the plane’s window. Billy stood beside her with a steaming cup of coffee.

“How long have I been sleeping?” She sat up, pushing off the blanket that covered her. She accepted the cup and took a grateful sip.

“Long enough that you might have trouble nodding off tonight,” Billy said. “How do you feel?”

She took a couple more sips before answering. “Okay.” She felt surprisingly well. Much as she’d hated it, the shot had helped her sleep.

Or had there been two shots? She vaguely remembered a second one, but maybe she’d dreamed it since she also remembered the man who gave it to her stroking her hair and face, murmuring to her, even kissing her. God knows that part had been a dream.

She sipped her coffee as she looked out the window at the postcard-perfect vista below. The ocean was JELL-O smooth, but variegated with hues ranging from sapphire to jade to emerald and dotted with dozens of dark green velvet islands. “We’re over the Pacific?” she guessed.

“We’re over the Pacific.” Paul was standing beside Billy now, looking well rested. He was also freshly shaved, so the length of his stubble didn’t give her a clue how long they’d been flying. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone drugged me.” She’d never forgive him for that shot, even if she had benefited from it.

“Drink your coffee.” Paul turned to Billy. “You sticking around?”

Billy shook his head. “They promised Travis and me a few days off. I think we’ll head someplace equally warm, but with a few more amenities.” He inclined his head toward the seats near the front of the plane. “Get belted in. We’re about to land.”

Jillian returned to the seat she’d occupied before Paul had banished her to the back, then resumed watching the overwhelming beauty outside the window. They were approaching one of the larger islands, a kidney-shaped mass of dark green with ivory edging. In less than a minute, they were skimming treetops then a small clearing appeared. The plane barely thudded as its wheels touched down on the short grass just beyond the trees.

“Perfect,” Billy said.

“That’s no easy airstrip,” Paul said. “You guys are the best.”

“Can’t argue with you there. Travis and I switch off as pilot and co-pilot, Jillian.” Billy cocked an eyebrow. “I can’t have you thinking all I am is a glorified flight attendant. Not with the things I’ve been through.” He unhooked his seatbelt and got to his feet.

“Sorry, but we don’t have time to hear about your dangerous exploits,” Paul said dryly. “Which seem to multiply whenever women are around.”

“I’d love to hear about them sometime.” Jillian smiled at Billy. “Although I can’t imagine you have any trouble attracting women even without the stories.”

Billy leaned down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You sure she has to stay here, Paul? I’d take real good care of her, I promise.”

“She has to stay here.” Paul stood. “I think we’ve stopped.”

“You’re right.” Billy hurried toward the door.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me where we are,” Jillian said.

“All you need to know is you’re getting a warm weather vacation, courtesy of the United States government. Let’s go.”

When they reached the exit, Billy had the stairs in place. He’d removed his sweater and was wearing only a tight gray T-shirt. “Sorry we couldn’t use the steps when you boarded, but at least we’ll see you off properly.”

Jillian squeezed his muscular upper arm. “I was right about those biceps. Very impressive.”

Billy grinned then looked pointedly at the ski jacket she had draped over one arm. “You’re not going to need that here.”

She stepped out of the plane into slightly humid heat. “I think my sweater’s a bit much, too.”

“I’ve arranged for more appropriate clothes, although they won’t arrive for a day or so,” Paul said.

“They’ll also include the basics, sunglasses, shampoo, makeup, that kind of stuff. Do you need anything special?” Billy held a pen over a notepad.

“More birth control pills,” Paul said.

Jillian stared at him, speechless.

“Don’t your hormones get messed up if you run out? We don’t want that.”