Out of Character (19 page)

The right thing. He sat on the bed, staring at the door she’d slammed on her way out. He still felt like a heel, a bastard, an ass, every derogatory word in the book. Not to mention frustrated as hell.

He lay down, adjusted the pillow under his head, and pulled up the sheet.

It was going to be one long night.

Paul sipped his fifth cup of coffee of the morning then set the cup on a Carrera marble coaster on the antique Spanish coffee table and massaged his temples. When he’d woken up this morning he’d felt even shittier than he had last night about how he’d treated Jillian. Especially after she’d helped him through that nightmare.

For her safety, he couldn’t let himself get near her. But he’d long-jumped way over the line. He needed to take full responsibility for their encounter and apologize for brutally rejecting her, blame it on disorientation or a flashback or something. He might want her to dislike him, but he didn’t want her thinking he didn’t respect her.

“Is Jillian still asleep?” Tony strode across the cream and gold Persian carpet then sat on one of the low Spanish brown leather stools beside the coffee table.

“She’s been moving around her room for the past hour. Would you ask her to come here?” The sooner Paul got his apology over with, the better. “I’d do it, but I think she’s mad at me.”

“Considering the way she ran from your room last night, I think you are probably right.”

Paul fingers tightened around the porcelain cup handle.

“Perhaps you should disable the security camera in the hallway,” Tony continued.

The fragile cup handle snapped. Paul had disabled the cameras in both his and Jillian’s bedrooms, but he’d forgotten about that damn one in the hall. Tony had been watching the monitors when Jillian had run out of Paul’s room—nude—and no doubt assumed the worst.

Paul dropped the handle onto the coffee table. “Jillian and I were involved in Keystone, before the shooting. I didn’t tell the bureau everything because it’s none of their damn business.”

Tony watched Paul with his patented inscrutable expression.

“She came into my room because I had a nightmare, and we got a little carried away. Until I remembered it can’t happen now because I’m protecting her. She misinterpreted my rejection.” Paul forced himself to meet Tony’s intense gaze. “I want to explain and apologize. And to assure her it won’t happen again.”

Tony studied him for a long moment. Paul shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to say more.

Then Tony nodded. “She’s a very nice lady. I’ll get her.”

Paul relaxed against the plush gold sofa. Tony had clearly decided to forgive him, despite the protective instincts Jillian appeared to have raised. Thank God. He wasn’t up to having both Jillian and Tony pissed at him. “She’d probably appreciate a cup of coffee.”

* * * *

Jillian stared at the foggy glass, so lost in the thoughts that had consumed her all night that she scarcely noticed the needles of hot water pummeling her rigid back and shoulders. How could she have acted like that? She’d honestly gone to Paul’s room to comfort him. After he’d kissed her, though, his comfort had been the furthest thing from her mind. Every bit of shameless behavior had been for her own benefit. And her behavior had been shameless. Paul didn’t want her here now and had never wanted her any way but physically, was still mourning his wife, for heaven’s sake. She’d nonetheless let him use her and, God help her, enjoyed every second of it, until his disgust with her had obliterated every smidgen of lust.

How was she going to face him?

Jillian got out of the shower and dried off then put on the underwear she’d washed out last night, followed by her jeans, the Springsteen T-shirt, and her socks and running shoes. She pulled her wet hair into a ponytail, applied the lipstick she’d found in her jacket pocket to both her lips and pale cheeks, and was ready to face the day.

Except she didn’t want to face the day, not when she’d also have to face the humiliation of seeing Paul. She walked over to the window and opened the sapphire silk drapes to a beautiful morning, the bright sunlight streaming through the glass.

Her brain cleared.

What the heck was she doing blaming herself for last night? She’d gone to Paul to help him. She was a doctor, and he’d been in pain. She’d been about to leave when he’d kissed her.

He’d kissed her.

She’d somehow lost sight of that part in her guilt-induced self-recriminations. Paul had initiated that kiss. All she’d done was respond with the same passion he had, until he’d stopped, and it hadn’t been out of disgust.

She plopped down on the bed, her lips compressing into a thin line. Paul had realized he had the perfect opportunity to manipulate her with sex, just like in the Rockies. His current goal was undoubtedly to turn her into such an emotional basket case that she’d obey him unquestioningly. She’d responded according to the government agent handbook.

Well, no more. She’d never been the emotional-basket-case type. She might not be able to control much around here, but she was not turning into a pathetic wimp who’d follow Paul Devlin’s script.

She wasn’t even sympathetic anymore. Paul Devlin was a first-class ass. No matter how she’d complicated his job of protecting her, no matter what had happened to his wife, no matter how messed up his psyche, he shouldn’t have treated her the way he had since she’d been hauled from Denver. She was the one who’d had her life disrupted, her best friend killed, and been nearly killed herself, almost certainly because he’d pursued her in Keystone. Afterwards she hadn’t wanted his protection, but he’d forced it on her. The least he could do was treat her like a decent human being.

Her blood bubbled through her veins like boiling seltzer. Time to set things straight. She marched to the door.

“Jillian? Are you awake?”

Tony’s knock and question came as she was reaching for the handle. She opened the door and he bowed slightly. “I trust you slept well.”

Her dark circles made a polite lie out of the question. “I’m having a few problems with jet lag.”

Tony held out a cup of coffee. “Paul thought you might like this.”

“Thanks.” He undoubtedly had an ulterior motive for sending it.

“He also asked that you come to the living room now.”

The ulterior motive. She’d been on her way, but she’d be damned if she’d come running to his summons. “Tell him I’ll be there when I’m ready.”

Tony’s lips twitched, but he suppressed it so quickly Jillian thought maybe she’d imagined it. He gave her another half bow, then left.

Paul probably expected her to come crawling in, humiliated and ready to do whatever he wanted. She sat down on the bed, sipping her coffee. By the time she was through with him, he’d be the one crawling.

* * * *

Jillian refilled her cup in the kitchen then marched into the living room.

Paul was on the sofa, drinking coffee. He looked up. “I want—”

“Before you begin, I’d like to say something.” Jillian met his eyes. “Last night when I heard you cry out, I went into your room. I stayed to comfort you. Partly because of my ER doctor mentality and partly because you’d helped me after the house exploded.”

“Yes—”

“You took advantage of the situation. I’d like your promise it won’t happen again.”

His jaw dropped. “I didn’t notice you fighting me off.”

She gave him the most incredulous look she could manage. “What did you expect? I’m dependent on you for my survival.”

From the way Paul slammed his cup down on the coffee table, she must have been convincing. “You’re saying you responded the way you did because you were afraid not to?”

“Yes, and I’m saying it had better not happen again.”

He picked up his cup, his features set. “Don’t worry, it won’t. I don’t need intimidation to get women.” He paused with his cup halfway to his lips. “As you proved in the past.”

Jillian sat on a tufted gold chair perpendicular to the sofa. “I agree I was willing in Keystone. But I didn’t really know you then, did I? I only knew Mark Jefferson, who doesn’t even exist.”

“I’m—”

“As you’ve forced me to admit, I hadn’t dated anyone since Andy. Kristen…” Her voice cracked. She took a deep breath, focused. “Kristen knew Andy wanted to get back together with me. We were both concerned if I hadn’t been with a man before I talked to him, I might confuse lust with love and decide to take him back for the wrong reasons.”

“You’re saying you used me?” Paul looked furious, which under the circumstances was ludicrous.

“At least I didn’t have any killers after me.”

“That night didn’t mean a thing to you.”

“The sex was decent, and it helped me think more clearly about Andy.” Jillian shrugged one shoulder. “Other than being angry that you ran out and worried you were married, I didn’t give you another thought until strange things started happening.” She looked pointedly at his fingers, clamped around the handle of his cup. “You’re going to break that off if you aren’t careful.”

Paul set the cup down.

“I certainly have no desire to have sex with you again,” she continued. “But as I said, I’m dependent on you. I’d appreciate your assurance you won’t take advantage of me again.”

Paul rubbed his face. “I don’t believe this.”

“If you won’t give me that assurance, I’ll be forced to contact your superiors.”

“Contact my superiors? You don’t have to worry. I will never—” Paul dropped his hands “—take advantage of you again.”

Without another word, he got to his feet and stormed out of the house.

* * * *

Avoiding Jillian for twenty-four hours hadn’t done much to cool his temper, Paul acknowledged the next morning as he stomped from the office to the house to talk to her. Sure, maybe some part of her acquiescence the night before last had been due to isolation and stress. But how the hell could she have claimed she was afraid not to do what he wanted? She’d responded out of passion, not fear, damn it, and would have happily gone much further than they had if he hadn’t stopped.

The real kicker, though, was her explanation for sleeping with him in Keystone. She had to be lying. She wasn’t the type of woman to use a man like that. Except she wasn’t the type to sleep with a man she’d just met, either. Which meant it might have been the truth.

Right now, he needed to forget all that and calm down. He had bigger concerns.

Tony had disappeared.

According to Mac, who’d arrived along with Sam the previous afternoon and had taken over watching the monitors at six this morning, Tony had left the compound fifteen minutes after finishing his shift. Four hours later, he still hadn’t returned or been spotted on the monitors. As Harry had pointed out, Tony might be somewhere out of camera range. But Paul had started to get a bad feeling about it, his gut telling him something wasn’t right.

That’s why he was on his way to talk to Jillian now, even though he’d rather avoid her until he was positive he had control of his temper. If she raised the force issue this morning, he might explode, and she’d demand to talk to his superior.

Paul’s fists clenched. God, he could imagine a conversation between Jillian and Jack. She’d disclose how Paul had taken advantage of her the other night then launch into a litany of his sins since she’d met him. Jack would feel obligated to move Jillian where someone else would be responsible for her safety. Someone who might be nicer, but lacked his skills and his motivation for making sure she stayed safe. Someone who might let her get killed. That could not happen.

When he talked to her, he needed to keep his cool no matter what she said. Paul forced his fingers to unclench, one at a time, and reached for the kitchen door handle. He took a couple deep breaths, opened the door, and went to the living room.

* * * *

“Have you seen Tony?”

Jillian had been sitting on the sofa enjoying coffee and a CD until she’d recognized Paul’s familiar stride in the kitchen. He marched into the living room, and she gave him a tight smile. “Good morning to you, too. I slept very well, thanks for asking.”

Paul walked over to the stereo system and turned the volume down. “Has Tony been in the house this morning?”

She crossed the room to the stereo. “Why? Do you want to yell at him for not locking up the knives? I noticed they were still on the kitchen counter. God knows what damage I could inflict with those.” She turned the music back up.

Paul turned it down. “Jillian, this is serious. Did Tony mention doing anything today?”

She reached toward the volume knob, but Paul’s menacing look made her return to the sofa instead. “No. Why do you need him?”

“I’m concerned because he left the compound at six when he got off duty, and no one’s seen him since.”

“Maybe he went fishing. Or needed to get away from everyone.” An urge she certainly understood.

Paul held up his hand. “Quiet. I heard someone.”

Jillian hadn’t heard a thing. “You said we have a top-notch security system. We’ve also got three guards. How could—”

Paul grabbed her arms. He hauled her across the living room and shoved her into the utility closet located between the living room and kitchen. “Stay here and be quiet.”

She opened her mouth to protest. Then he pulled out his gun. The warm closet suddenly felt very cold.

* * * *

Paul crouched behind the sofa, his gaze alternating between the arched windows in the living room and the front door. Someone was definitely out there, someone who didn’t move like Tony or anyone else who was supposed to be on the island.

That damned security fence. It had shown a security breach an hour ago, but Mac and Harry had determined no one had gotten in. Paul had shut the fence off so he could figure out what had triggered the false alarm. Then he’d gotten his bad feeling about Tony and rushed to the house to question Jillian without first rearming the fence.

Although what were the odds someone would choose this moment to break into the compound and be able to take out both Harry and Mac? It was broad daylight, for God’s sake.

Unless Mac was dirty.
A chill crept up Paul’s spine. Mac had been thoroughly vetted, but no check was infallible. Mac might have taken Harry out and let the intruder in just now. Or maybe the breach hadn’t been false. Maybe Mac had seen someone come in but been paid to ignore it.