Pandora's Box (9 page)

It was a lie.
 
She could hold her liquor better than most grown men.

“Damn.
 
I’m sorry.”
 
Tyler
gently touched the side of her head, rubbing her scalp through a thin curtain of red hair.
 
The sweet gesture almost made her want to cry.
 
It had been a long time since anyone had shown her tenderness.
 
He added, “I should have thought of that.
 
You could have been killed.”

“I don’t think it was me he was after.”

Tyler
shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.
 
“Are you trying to say he was gunning for me?
 
Just me?”

“The red dot was on your face, not mine.
 
I think he wanted to kill you.”
 
An idea occurred to her.
 
“Wait a minute.
 
You’re the president’s son.
 
Why don’t you have a Secret Service agent following you around, protecting you?”

He blinked at her, speechless for a moment.
 
“Because I don’t want one and I don’t need one.”
 
He shot her a glare.
 
“I’m a trained NAVY Seal.
 
I can—.”

“—take care of yourself.”
 
She rolled her eyes.
 
“I’ve heard that song.
 
Second verse same as the first.”

“Need a lift home?”

At any other time she would have considered the offer.
 
She might have even asked him up for a nightcap.
 
Unfortunately she had a thankless job to do.
 
She had to assure
Tyler
’s safety by taking care of the shooter.
 
“I’ll grab a taxi.
 
Thanks anyway.”

He released her with some obvious reluctance.
 
His eyes followed her until she climbed into a yellow cab and waved goodbye.
 
Inside the dark interior,
Madison
went limp against the back seat.
 
She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept she was never going to see her father again, and now she had a new worry.

When would it stop?

She took the time in the back of the taxi to rest her body and mind for the first time since her father had died.

******

Madison
stepped inside her apartment, dropped her coat and keys on the floor, and kicked the door shut behind her.
 
She scanned her apartment for signs of an intrusion.
 
Nothing seemed to have been moved.
 
Of course her intruder would be far too clever to move something out of its assigned place, especially considering how well he knew her.

“Come out here right now!” she yelled.
 
“I’m not in the mood to play games.”

Brief seconds ticked by before DeMarco entered the living room with a sheepish smile on his face and an open beer in his hand.
 
He collapsed on the sofa.
 
Patting the cushion next to him, he winked at her.
 
“Sit next to me.”

The louse was drunk.

“What the hell did you think you were doing tonight?”
 
Instead of sitting, she paced like a caged animal.
 
“And don’t bother to deny it.
 
I know your eyes.
 
You could have killed somebody.”

“I’m an expert marksman.
 
You weren’t in any danger.”

“It’s not me I was worried about.
 
Why did you try to shoot the president’s son, Marc?”

“I didn’t.
 
I missed on purpose.
 
I just wanted to send a message to the arrogant jerk.”

DeMarco rubbed his temples, obviously in pain.
 
She almost felt bad for him.
 
Almost.
 
But she realized he probably just had a hangover and she reminded herself he could have hurt, even killed someone tonight.

Looking up at her, he made a confession.

“I’ve been tailing you all night because I know how you get.
 
Your father died.
 
I wanted to be there for you, but I knew you’d push me away.
 
You and your damn space!”
 
He paused long enough to rein in his temper.
 
The effort put a strain on him.
 
The lines around his mouth and eyes seemed more prominent tonight.
 
“Anyway, I saw you at the bar with that jerk.
 
He put his hands on you and I lost it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.
 
You and I have been over for two years.
 
I thought you were past this jealousy crap.”
 
She sat next to him and took his beer away.
 
“You have to stop doing this.
 
You beat Chavez up after I had the one-night-stand with him and almost got thrown out of the service.
 
Now you shoot at the president’s son.
 
That’s insane.”

He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
 
A groan rumbled deep in his throat.
 
Madison
’s hand hovered over his back for a moment.
 
She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t want to confuse him with mixed signals.
 

“I’m sorry, Maddie.
 
I swear it won’t happen again.”

“Why did it happen this time?”
 
She simultaneously put emotional and physical distance between them as she crossed the room to stand alone near the far wall.
 
“Do I need to remind you that it was you who broke things off with me?
 
You explained your reasons and I agreed.
 
Our careers come first, and you know I’m a walking disaster when it comes to relationships.
 
I don’t trust anyone.
 
Never will.
 
You couldn’t get far enough, fast enough.
 
Why are you acting this way now?”

“I don’t know.”
 
He exploded off the couch and stalked to the window.
 
“It wasn’t planned or anything.
 
I’ve seen the way you look at the guy.
 
When he touched you, I went ballistic.
 
I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I’d tried.”
 
He turned her way, catching her with those warm brown eyes.
 
“If you want, I’ll report myself.”

“That isn’t what I want.”
 
She joined him at the window, stood beside him without touching, and looked at the top of the
Washington
Monument
in the distance.
 
“I just want you to be okay.”
 
Giving into her emotions, she slid an arm around his waist and tilted her head sideways until it rested against his.
 
“Thank you for defending me earlier.
 
I actually thought those idiots were going to lock me up and toss the key.”

“I wanted to pound some sense into them.
 
I’m sorry you had to go through that and right after your father died too.”
 
He took her hand and squeezed it.
 
They shared a quiet moment.

Then he ruined it.
 

“So what did your father say to you before he died?”

Madison
froze.
 
Her heart stopped cold.
 
Paranoia born of years spent with the CIA and then the Secret Service raised its ugly head.
 
She heard warning bells again.
 
She wondered if DeMarco was asking because he cared about her or if he was working for someone else who wanted the information.
 

She pulled free and walked away.
 
She hated suspecting everyone, hated the life she had to lead thanks to the service.
 
Life with the government had taught her not to take anyone at face value.
 
If you let down your guard, you got hurt.
 
Or worse.
 
Dead.
 
Madison
’s feet took her to the hall closet.
 
She pulled an extra blanket and pillow from the top shelf.

When she returned to the living room, she found DeMarco back on the couch with the beer in his hand. He patted the cushion next to him again.
 
This time she chose to join him.
 
When she sat next to him, he slid closer to her until they were touching from shoulder to thigh.

She said, “My father wanted me to get something out of his safe deposit box at the bank.
 
I’m going first thing in the morning.”

Madison
waited, back stiff, for his response.
 

“Want to watch a movie?” he asked.
 
“We can watch one of those old sad movies you like so much.”

“You mean the ones that make you laugh so hard I can’t hear the dialogue?”

“Give me a break.
 
They’re sappy and ridiculous.
 
No man talks like that.”

“
Casablanca
happens to be a much-loved classic.”

He made a rude noise with his mouth.
 
“Can’t understand why.”

She stood and tossed the blanket into his lap.
 
“Of course you can’t.
 
You think Rocky is a romantic movie.”

“It is.”
 
His laughter slowly died.
 
He gazed up at her, taking her fingers between his.
 
“I really messed up when I let you go.
 
Every time I even think of you with another guy, it rips a hole in my gut.”

Madison
didn’t know what to say to that, so she said goodnight and went straight to bed, her mind reeling.
 
For over a year she had dreamed of a day when DeMarco would tell her he’d made a mistake in leaving her.
 
However, there was a new man on the scene now and as much as she wanted to deny it to the world, Tyler Law affected her as no other man had.
 

Her skin tingled at the mere thought of him.
  

Before she headed for her bedroom, she heard DeMarco on the phone.
 
He talked in hushed tones, obviously not wanting her to hear his conversation because he was selling her out.
 
She took a step in his direction to confront him.

She hesitated.
 
What if she was wrong?
 
She turned around and went to bed.
 
Once there she plotted a way to trap DeMarco—if he had betrayed her.

******

After a long night of bad dreams, seeing her father die repeatedly,
Madison
woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
 
She’d hoped DeMarco would be gone by the time she finished in the shower and got dressed, but he was in her kitchen, making himself at home.
 
He whistled as he flipped a golden pancake into the air and caught it in the frying pan.
 

Show off.

Watching him in her kitchen, his handsome face beaming with pride as he poured more batter into the pan, the years melted away, reminding her of what she’d lost.
 
He looked sexy, rumpled and unshaven in a snug gray T-shirt.
 

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said.

She glared at him.
 
“This is one of the reasons we aren’t together.
 
No one wants to be around a cheerful Gus this early in the morning.”

“I forgot how crabby you can be before breakfast.”
 
He handed her a glass of orange juice.
 
“The food is almost ready.
 
I also forgot how much fun it is to cook for someone.”

Madison
’s breath caught in her throat.
 
She prayed he wouldn’t start talking about reviving their relationship again.
 
She didn’t like being pushed on a good day.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I called the city morgue this morning to make sure they have your father’s body.”
 
DeMarco stopped what he was doing for a moment to look straight at her.
 
“They do.
 
I wasn’t sure where you wanted to have him sent.
 
Which funeral home?
 
Did he ever talk about what he wanted?”

“He has a plot next to my mother.”
 
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
 
The conversation had turned surreal for her.
 
She wasn’t ready to face the fact she wouldn’t see her father again.
 
“I’ll call them later.”
 
She tasted the juice and had to admit it was good.
 
Better than her usual coffee and dry toast on the run.
 
Her head throbbed with a hangover.
 
“Remind me not to drink anything stronger than tea from now on.”