It's Always Been You (8 page)

“You’re jet-lagged,” Travis stated in resignation.

Caitlin tried to hide a smile but failed. What was he expecting? Take her on a tour? All she wanted was to sleep for days.

“Food and sleep are all I need right now.”

Something must have clicked in Travis’s brain for his expression turned grim. “Is that a side effect of—?”

“Yes,” Caitlin cut in.

“For how long?”

Caitlin didn’t answer because Emily turned curious eyes on her. Thankfully, she was saved from responding when the doorbell buzzed.

“That’s Beatrice,” Emily announced as she made her way to the door.

“Fuck,” Travis cursed.

Who is Beatrice?

Beatrice turned out to be a statuesque redhead who towered over Emily. She was probably five-ten in heels. The new arrival walked confidently into the house, comfortable with the place like she lived here. Caitlin felt a twinge of irritation that quickly morphed into outrage at Beatrice’s words.

“Do you need me to take out the trash for you?” Beatrice eyes bore into Caitlin before slicing over to Travis. Her meaning was not lost on Caitlin.

There was a gasp from Emily and what sounded like a growl from Travis.

Travis’s expression darkened to a scary degree as he stepped in front of Beatrice causing the redhead to appear to reconsider her words.

“You will apologize to Caitlin, right fucking now,” his voice vibrated with controlled rage. “Or in five seconds, you’ll find your ass parked outside.”

A hint of color crept up Beatrice’s face and her whole demeanor changed as she looked at Travis and said, “Um, I guess you don’t need my help?”

“No.” He turned to Caitlin. “Caitlin, this is Beatrice Porter.”

“Porter?”

“She’s Benjamin Porter’s daughter and a close friend of mine.” Travis narrowed his eyes at Beatrice. “Although I’m reconsidering.”

“Sorry. Travis always uses me to shield him against the attentions of women throwing themselves at him,” Beatrice explained her earlier actions. “I’m his fake girlfriend.”

“Bee—”

“I should have known Travis wouldn’t bring a one-night stand to his house—”
 

“Bee, this is my wife, Caitlin Kincaid,” Travis cut in.

Beatrice face registered mostly shock, some indignation, and part hurt.
 

“Tell me you’re kidding me.” Beatrice took a deep breath. She wasn’t looking at anyone, but she had an arm cocked at the elbow, index finger pointing up in a
wait a second
gesture. “You disappear for a few days, abandoning one of the most lucrative security contracts I’ve negotiated for you, and get MARRIED?” She looked at Caitlin apologetically before glaring at Travis. “I’m your best friend, Travis. I didn’t know you were even dating.” To Emily she said, “You’ve got some explaining to do, sister.” Whipping her attention back to Travis. “Was Nate at the wedding?”

Caitlin was feeling the onset of a migraine. At least she thought it was a migraine. What a mess. Did Travis really think it would be easy to insert her back into his life? Was she even his wife anymore?
Sarah Blake is dead.
 

“There was no wedding—”

“What? You eloped? That’s not—”

“Damn it, Beatrice. Shut up for one second and let me speak,” Travis snapped.

The redhead bit down on her lip, visibly struggling to follow Travis’s order.

“Caitlin is Sarah. My wife. Sarah’s not dead.”

Beatrice’s mouth hung open, and she was about to say something when Travis glared at her.

“Caitlin has amnesia and couldn’t remember the events that took her from me. The DNA and autopsy reports were obviously fabricated, which tells me the whole thing was a cover-up. I’d rather not get you involved, Beatrice. Your father is aware of the situation, and if he has not shared or mentioned anything to you about it, he has his reasons.”

“The reasons being it’s dangerous.” Beatrice turned her curious eyes on Caitlin. “Who exactly are you, Caitlin Kincaid?”

“I wish I knew.”

“That was rhetorical—”

Caitlin smiled. She liked Beatrice’s snarkiness, but wasn’t too keen on her closeness to her husband.

Shit
.

Husband. When did she get comfortable with that word in reference to this annoyingly handsome man before her? It would have been easier to keep a logical perspective if Travis didn’t send her female hormones into a tailspin by merely standing beside her.

Beatrice’s gaze turned critical. Caitlin tensed.

“Are you sure she has amnesia?”

“And you’re done,” Travis said, firmly clasping Beatrice’s upper arm and escorting her—not quite gently—to the door.

“Wait a minute,” Beatrice snapped. “Don’t for a minute think you’ve sidetracked me from my purpose here.”

“You sidetracked yourself.”

“Well, yeah,” Beatrice said sheepishly. Then her face turned serious. “The Kennedy contract is due for presentation tomorrow. We’re two people short, and Emily tells me you’re handing the reins to Shephard. I put my ass on the line for this gig, Travis. All eyes are on the Kennedy delegation to Ukraine. I have every faith in Shephard, but your disappearance over the past few days threw me for a loop and made me nervous.” She looked at Caitlin before fixing her gaze on Travis. “Now I understand why. I’ve known you for over two years, and you’ve lived for your job. That’s why you’re at the top of the game now. Is this about to change?”

The two friends eyed each other challengingly.

“I won’t have you questioning how I run my company, Beatrice,” Travis said after a tense beat. “Your job is to find me clients—”

“Exactly,” Beatrice fired back. “I’m putting my reputation as a security consultant at stake here.”

“Your concern is legitimate. So, in answer to your question, are things going to change? Fuck, yes. BSI is important to me, and I’m not about to let it implode. I’ve got capable people working for me. I’m just too bullheaded to delegate. But not anymore. Make no mistake, Bee. The Kennedys will get what they’ve paid for, but it’s only fair to let you know, Caitlin comes first.” Travis speared Caitlin with an intense stare. “My marriage is my priority.”

Emily was grinning from ear to ear, and if Caitlin was speechless before, she could pass for a mute right now. Her whole body tingled with warmth. Travis didn’t mince words when it came to his commitment to her. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.

 
Beatrice’s face was expressionless as she considered Travis’s words. And then suddenly, it cracked with a tender look as she whispered, “So happy for you, Trav.”

“Shit. You’re not going to cry, are you?” Travis asked warily.

Caitlin snickered inwardly.
Men.

“
No, you jerk.” Beatrice punched Travis on the arm fondly. “I’ll leave you guys to discuss business. Nice to meet you, Caitlin. I see Emily has everything under control. I’ll see you both at the meeting tomorrow.” She glanced back at Travis. “You better be there, Blake.”

“I will.”

Travis shook his head and closed the door as the redhead sashayed out.

“She’s an interesting character,” Caitlin said slowly. “Fake girlfriend?”

Travis winced. “Ahhh . . . we attend functions together, but really, we’re just friends. The media puts a different spin on it, and we just let it play out. Bee’s not interested in a relationship. That’s according to her.”

“She’s gorgeous. I can’t believe she’s not taken.”

“She’s a handful,” Travis muttered.

“Actually, she had quite an intense fling with Travis’s SEAL buddy, Gabe,” Emily piped in.

“Emily.” Travis’s tone held censure.

“We can gossip later,” Emily told Caitlin, sotto-voce.

Travis scowled.

“Oh, give it a rest, boss. I’m not raking you over the coals.”

“Aren’t we supposed to go through these files?” Travis demanded sorely.

“I’ll leave you two to it. I’m feeling a nap coming on,” Caitlin announced.

“How long have you been awake?” Travis asked.

“Three hours.” Travis looked disappointed. Caitlin didn’t understand why because he had to work anyway. “Eat. Sleep. Remember?”

“Leave your door unlocked.”

“What? Why?”
 

“So I can check on you later.”
 

“Travis, I’m just taking a nap.”

“Please, sunshine.” He walked to her, looming tall. Caitlin failed to avoid his lips when they touched hers so briefly. “I just need this.”

“Okay,” she whispered back. She walked unsteadily to the stairs, trying to convince herself that her balance was impaired from her need for sleep. If she was honest with herself, it had everything to do with the merest brush of those damned sexy lips.

*****

Your wife is dead, Blake. You failed to protect her.

Travis jerked awake. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face, and his body protested the awkward angle; he had fallen asleep sitting on his chair. That was a fucking nightmare.
Porter was standing over the body of Caitlin looking at him accusingly.

Fuck
.
 

It had been a long-ass day. The interviews were conducted from three to nine p.m. All the applicants had already gone through tactical evaluation, and this was just the situational interview, the test of their mental ability. Whoever wore the BSI badge needed to be quick in body and mind. Shephard was excellent in this—what he called his hell-of-a-mind-fuck test. They hired three guys instead of the planned two. The more experienced, older ones were going on the Kennedy detail to Ukraine. One was a former army ranger; the other had previously worked in a private security firm. Travis pulled out the file of the third man. Twenty-five-year old Sam Harper, a mixed-martial-arts fighter, had several stints as a bouncer in the trendiest clubs in DC. He needed work with firearms handling, but Travis had read his tactical evaluations. The young man had potential. Travis also needed a bodyguard for Caitlin.
 

Caitlin poked her head in the study after waking from a four-hour nap, asking him if he wanted a sandwich. Travis wasn’t hungry, but he nodded because this was what Sarah used to do for him—prepare his lunch or dinner while he was fixing stuff around the house. Now he was this sappy fool who craved any semblance of the life they had. He ignored the scowl Ed Shephard shot him when he told the guys to take five when Caitlin came back with his sandwich.

His wife apologized for interrupting, but Travis waved that off, stood up, and gave her a hug. She was stiff in his arms, but he refused to let her go until she relaxed. And she did. “I missed you today,” he whispered in her ear.

She chuckled in that familiar husky sound. “You just saw me not four hours ago.”

“I don’t care.” He planted a kiss on the side of her head. “I. Missed. You.” Those last three words had an altogether different meaning. They stood quietly together for a few more minutes, before Travis reluctantly pulled away. “I need to get these interviews done.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about me,” Caitlin replied. “I just checked out the TV room. You have a gazillion channels. I’m going to be well entertained.”

And that was how Travis found her. Asleep on the couch, with the SyFy channel on with some cheesy B-movie that crossed a shark with an octopus.
 
A pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey sat completely consumed on the coffee table. Grinning and shaking his head, Travis crouched down in front of Caitlin and took the opportunity to trace the outline of her face.
God
. He loved her so fucking much. Those feelings had not dimmed in the past three years and only flared into a conflagration waiting to explode in his chest.
 

He stood and bent over her, slipping his arms under her back and behind her knees to lift her. She mumbled incoherently in protest.

“Shh . . . shh . . . sunshine, let’s get you more comfortable,” Travis whispered. She weighed nothing, and he made a mental note to fatten her up. She was thinner than she used to be, but was more toned. When they reached her room, he shifted her slightly to open the door, careful not to let it bang against the wall. He lowered her on the bed, which was still unmade from her previous nap. Her scent was already on the sheets, a heady mixture of citrus and her own musk. He reluctantly pulled the blanket over her, preparing to leave, but her hand shot out and grabbed him.

“Where are you going, Ace?”

Travis froze. “Sarah?” Only Sarah called him that.
Holy fuck
.

“It’s late, Travis, come to bed.”

“Sarah?” he repeated hoarsely.
 

She let go of his hand, turned, and burrowed deeper into the pillows.

He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting to make sense of this curve ball thrown his way. He backed away slowly. The Sarah he knew was gone. He needed to get that through his damned head before it drove him insane.

CHAPTER FIVE

Caitlin opened the door to a smiling Sam Harper. The blond man was a new recruit of BSI and had been her constant shadow for the past two weeks whenever Travis was not around to keep an eye on her.

“Ready, Ms. Kincaid?” Sam smiled congenially. Though barely out of his mid-twenties, he had a mature and calm carriage. He couldn’t exactly be described as an attractive man. His nose was crooked and wide at the base. His skin had a few pockmarks; his eyes were beady. He wasn’t a tall man either, but his fit physique screamed of power behind every step.

“I told you to call me Caitlin.” She smiled at him.

Her sleep and eat cycle lasted for two days; after which, Travis quickly whisked her to his personal physician for a full-medical checkup. Afterward, he took her straight to the CIA psychological rehabilitation facility called the NEST (Neurological & Empathetic Stimulation & Testing).
 

Sam loaded her up in the Audi sedan, and soon, they were on their way to her appointment. It had become her routine—sessions from ten a.m. to three p.m. at the NEST. Her shrink, Dr. Monica Lester, arranged a battery of tests on her first day. A fifty-page questionnaire, ink blots, some abstract evaluations, and of course, a general one-on-one verbal assessment. Travis accompanied her on her first three visits, and worked in the building’s cafeteria as he waited for her. But BSI had consumed his time in the past week and he had depended on Sam to take her to her appointments. Travis was anxious to get her well and was annoyed that he wasn’t allowed to share in her sessions with Dr. Lester yet.