U.S. Male (16 page)

“And now you’re trying Europe again. Isn’t that why you took this job, to get back to Europe?”

“Partly.”

“What was the other part?”

“I couldn’t resist you.”

This time, he kissed her hard and desire flared again. Roughly, he pulled her down to the deck of the boat. He wanted her underneath him, slick and strong, lean and taut.

Foreplay was irrelevant. The arousal of each fed off the other, their bodies straining together, the taste, the touch blending until the feel of her slickness against his fingers aroused him as much as the stroke of her palm against his hard cock. When she moaned, he felt the shudder of pleasure. When she quaked, it made him groan.

Then he rolled on top of her, lying between her legs, feeling them wrap around him like silken bonds. He slid his cock into her swiftly and they cried out together. He was into her up to the root, a part of her, connected as though they were one. And with every stroke, as he drove himself into her, he felt completed.

Part of a oneness he couldn’t name.

He could say he was a loner, at this moment they were bonded in ways that went beyond physical. This time when he was inside her and they were moving together, pulling each other along toward climax, he didn’t close his eyes and concentrate on his own pleasure. He cupped her head with his hands and stared into her eyes, watching her lips part as she gasped, watching her face come alive as he moved in her.

And as he saw her reach orgasm and begin to quake under him the crystal clear realization broke through him.

He was a man who’d lived through life-threatening situations. He was currently in a dangerous situation facing a dangerous man, without a clear idea how to make it work.

But he’d just realized the most dangerous thing of all.

He was in love with her.

J
OSS RUBBED LOTION
into her hands and listened to the sound of the television coming from the other room where Bax sat on the bed. He’d tuned in to a soccer game. Or football, she corrected herself. After all, she was in Europe.

“I hadn’t realized you were a sports fan,” she commented idly, leaning her head out of the bathroom.

“I’m not.”

She watched him a moment. It was the first night since they’d been in Stockholm that they hadn’t either been working or completely wrapped up in each other. Granted, they’d made an afternoon of it, but he’d definitely been acting a little strange since they’d been back. It made her edgy and unsettled, even more than her own feelings did.

She didn’t want to be unsettled. She’d been unsettled for the past seven years. Enough, already. It was time for all of it to stop. It was time to build a life, a home, a career.

And she very much wanted Bax to be a part of it.

Nerves skittered in her belly. She’d never been vulnerable in a relationship before. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but you couldn’t fake feelings. She wasn’t faking the feelings now. If things ended, she would be the one getting hurt.

It gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She had a choice, of course, you always had a choice. Do nothing, let him go, perhaps, and in time—maybe an aeon or two—the feelings would die away. Or maybe Bax would come to her and she wouldn’t even have to say anything.

But doing nothing and waiting for things to happen was the coward’s way. It had never been hers. She had to say something, pure and simple. She had to take her chance. And if she pancaked, at least she’d know she’d tried.

Joss stared at herself in the mirror. It would be okay, she told herself silently, remembering the way it had felt out on the archipelago, remembering the way it had felt in Amsterdam, where he’d come for her. It wasn’t just her imagination. It was real. He cared for her, she knew he did.

She just needed to tell him how she felt.

Swallowing, she shook her hair back and walked out of the bathroom to sit on the bed in her silky robe. Unconsciously, she twisted her fingers together. “We had a good day today.”

“I guess.”

She cursed herself for making small talk instead of telling him what was on her mind. “We’ve been working pretty well together, haven’t we?”

“Block the freaking ball,” Bax barked at the goalie on television.

Joss stared at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure, fine,” he said shortly, staring at the screen.

She nibbled on the inside of her lip and took a breath. “You know, I was thinking. This detecting stuff is kind of fun. I could get used to this.”

“Oh, come on,” he said disgustedly in response to a play, and then flicked a glance at her. “Don’t get too excited. This isn’t a real case. We’re not investigating anything, we’re just trying to figure out how to swindle Silverhielm out of something that’s not his.”

“Sure.” She nodded. “Real investigating must keep you busy.”

Bax just watched the soccer game tensely.

“Have you ever thought about getting someone to help you?” Her voice was elaborately casual. “You know, someone who could do the office stuff and maybe help you with some of the leg work? Someone you could train?”

Bax picked up the remote and punched at the button to mute the sound. “Joss, what’s this all about?” he asked abruptly.

She blinked. “Well…”

“You’ve obviously got something to say. Say it.”

Nervous, they were both nervous over tomorrow. This had to be said, though. She couldn’t wait.

Now’s your chance, she told herself silently. Do it. “I want to learn to become an investigator,” she blurted. “I could work for you, doing whatever you needed me to. Maybe just secretarial stuff, or phone calls, street canvassing when you need to talk with a lot of sources. Whatever you want.” With every word, she talked faster. “You know, learn how the business works from the ground up. Take away the dull stuff so you’ll be more efficient.”

For a long moment, he just watched her, some light of bewildered longing in his eyes. Everything would be okay, she wanted to tell him. She loved him. They could make it work. She moistened her lips and opened her mouth. “I—”

As though to ward off her words, he shook his head. “It’s a nice offer, Joss, but no. Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” she began.

“I’ve told you before, I work alone.”

“You’re not on the case alone now, though,” she reminded him. “We’ve worked together just fine.”

“Have we? We were on a stakeout today and I spent half
the afternoon focused on you instead of watching the island. That’s not what I call working.”

She stared at her hands and nodded her head as though to the beat of music only she could hear. Then she turned to him. “Okay, what’s going on, Bax?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on?”

“You’ve been acting strange ever since we got back. What got you so ticked off? So we fooled around on the job? Well, you were there, too,” she reminded him, an edge to her voice. “And you didn’t seem all that worried about it at the time. If you’re going to get ticked, get ticked at yourself as well as me.”

“It doesn’t work. Having you around is screwing things up.” He punched at the remote and turned the sound back up.

“So what was all that the other night about what a good job I was doing and how important I was? Or was that just a load of crap?”

His eyes skated off to the side. “Joss, you’re the client. Of course I’m going to tell you you’re doing a good job.” A muscle at the side of his jaw worked. “Reality is, if I were working alone, I’d probably have the stamp back by now.”

“Give me a break, Bax.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s taken two of us to pull this off, working together. Together, remember that? And it’s been good, like it was this afternoon, until you got ticked off. Like it was in Amsterdam, and you came over there voluntarily, remember? That wasn’t about work, it was about us.”

“Amsterdam? Amsterdam was about taking care of you.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice wavered.

“I wasn’t going to leave you over there on your own. I came over to make sure you didn’t get in trouble.”

It sliced into her, wicked and unforgivable. “No. You came for me. You told me you did.”

“You thought what you wanted to think.”

“This isn’t really about me coming to work for you, is it?” she asked, her voice a little wobbly. “This is about us, period.”

“What ‘us’? There is no us. That was a game we were playing, remember? A role to fool Silverhielm? It was never supposed to fool us, too. We’re on the job and when it’s done, we’re done.”

It was a cold, hard verbal slap and it silenced her momentarily. She’d always been the one who ended relationships, she’d always been the one who walked away without being hurt. Now, she was the one sitting here with her heart sliced open and he was just staring at the television.

At first it was just pain, harsh and undiluted.

And then the pain flamed back into anger. “There is no us? You are so full of it, Bax. Who do you think you’re kidding with this, huh? You don’t want anything going forward? You don’t want us to see each other once this is over, fine, but don’t sit there and try to pretend that nothing’s happened here.” Her voice rose in fury. “Even if you can’t be honest with me, be honest with yourself.”

“I am being honest.”

“Oh yeah? What about this afternoon?” she demanded. “Not the sex, the other part. The part where we talked. The part where you told me things.”

Now he did turn and look at her. “That was a mistake,” he said bleakly. “I had no business telling you that stuff. I had no business spending the afternoon making love to you instead of paying attention to the case.”

And because he had, he was trying to get as far from her as possible. It frustrated her, infuriated her and it hurt. Oh, it hurt. “What are you afraid of, getting close? You
think because your father could never connect with you and your mom that you’re hardwired to be that way, too? You think that because you grew up a loner that that’s what you have to be your whole life?”

“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” he said angrily. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you love get hurt over and over again because they can’t stop needing someone. My mom spent her whole life trying to open up to him and getting shut down every time. I saw what needing him did to her. I watched what it did to me.”

“But that’s them, that’s not us. Let it go,” Joss pleaded, reaching a hand to his face. “I care about you. I want to build something with you.”

Bax jerked away and rose. “Sure. I’ve fallen for that one before, too. Her name was Stephanie.” The first woman he’d ever loved, the first woman who’d ever loved him back. But time had told the lie of that. “She wanted to be there for me, too.” He remembered staring into her beautiful face as she begged him to let her in. He’d done it, in incredulous wonder that everything could come together so easily, be the way it was supposed to be.

And he’d been so wrong.

Bax shook his head. “She wanted me to open up. And like a stupid schmuck, I did. And you know what? Surprise, suddenly I wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. I wasn’t the bulletproof tough guy. I was just a guy.”

“You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met.”

He smiled humorlessly. “Not to her, not after that. She didn’t really want to know me. No one ever really wants to know anybody. We’re all happier with our fantasies.”

“Bax,” Joss whispered. “What did she do to you?”

“Oh, dropped that little bombshell before she walked off with a guy she met in a bar one night when we were out for a drink. A couple of weeks after I’d asked her to
move in with me. Doesn’t exactly make you want to get involved,” he said, tossing the words at her shocked face.

She struggled to take it all in. “She was a witch. It wasn’t about you, it was about her.”

“It doesn’t matter. Actually, she did me a favor. She taught me the most important lesson I ever learned—you can’t depend on anyone but yourself.”

“Just because one woman was an idiot doesn’t mean every woman is.” Impotent anger filled her words. “It doesn’t mean that I am.”

“And you telling me the same things she did doesn’t mean that you aren’t.”

“Can’t you trust me? Can’t you try?”

He wanted to, part of him suddenly wanted to very badly. But he couldn’t get there. It had been too hard, too long. “I believe you think you feel something for me, Joss, but it’s not love. It’s sex, it’s excitement, it’s danger. You want an answer to your life and you think I’m it.”

“That’s not true,” she shook her head blindly. “I care for you Bax. I love you.”

“You just think you do. You’re not in love with me, you’re in love with salvation.”

“I don’t need you to save me,” she flared. “I just need you to be with me.”

He hesitated. “Look, Joss, I can’t be your fantasy man and I can’t be your answer. We came into this knowing the score. Let’s keep it that way.”

“I’m not sixteen, Bax. I know what I feel.”

“And I know what I know. It’s over, Joss. We get the stamps back tomorrow and then we say goodbye.”

“We won’t have to,” she spoke, almost inaudibly. “You’ve already said the only goodbye that matters.”

T
HE DAY DAWNED
gorgeous and clear with an exquisite sunrise over the water by the Royal Viking. Joss stood at the window and looked out toward Karl XII’s
torg.
She had no frame of reference for the misery she felt. She had never experienced it before. She’d had breakups born of anger and frustration, breakups fueled by incompatibility, breakups driven by lack of desire. Always, though, she’d felt a sense of relief after, a lightness at the idea of being on her own again.

Now, all she felt was despair.

Bax had become a necessary part of her world. Only two weeks had gone by since they’d first met and yet she felt that he’d always been there, that his presence made her days and nights complete in a way she hadn’t realized she’d needed.

And she had no idea what to do next.

They’d spent the night lying in the same bed. They might have been inches apart, but the reality was millions of times that distance. Eventually, Joss had dozed off into dreams in which everything was right again. She’d woken to find herself wrapped in Bax’s arms, and for a moment in the warmth and sleepy comfort, she’d forgotten that everything wasn’t all right, that everything was as wrong as it could be.

Her jolt into full wakefulness had woken Bax as well.
With the light of dawn just beginning to slip through the windows, he’d risen to pull on his running clothes and leave, without a word. Without a backward glance.

And in the empty room, she’d risen to stand by the window and watch him run away from the hotel, as he was running away from her.

B
AX LISTENED TO
the thud of his feet and waited for the run to do its work. In the aftermath of his breakup with Stephanie, he’d logged enough miles that he’d run the D.C. marathon and finished in the top one hundred. Whenever his thoughts would start chasing themselves in circles, he’d lace on his shoes and hit the streets or the trails, driving himself relentlessly. Running was Bax’s escape, and that day should have been no different.

Except it was.

He turned the corner by the Opera House and found himself on Fredsgatan, just down from Fredsgatan 12. And suddenly he was hit by memories of walking there with Joss in the gathering evening, her fingers tangled with his.

Bax shook his head and sped up.
Block it out, block it out.
He didn’t want to feel what he felt for Joss. There was no place in his life for letting another person in, for letting another person into his heart. For needing.

He knew what happened when you did that. He knew the danger.

His life was fine just as it was. So maybe it wasn’t filled with people, but he knew what he could depend on. He knew who he could depend on—himself. When you started depending on other people, you put yourself at risk. Some people liked that. For his part, he could skip it.

He sped up, feeling the good burn in his quads and calves. Concentrate on the body, concentrate on the pain there.
Focus, focus, got to focus.

Because if he stopped concentrating on physical pain he’d have to start registering the way it had felt to see the mute anguish on Joss’s face the night before and that morning. And he’d have to start thinking about the loss he was going to feel when she was gone.

A
SHOWER
, clothes, coffee. The basics of life, the routine. If she clung to those, she’d get through this. She was strong enough, she knew it. She was tough enough.

And at the moment, there wasn’t anything else to do but keep on, so Joss sat in the café at Karl XII’s
torg
and held her coffee cup. She felt grainy and slow and out of sync with herself. More than ever before in her life she wanted to leave a place behind, but it simply wasn’t possible just then. Not when the meeting with Silverhielm loomed. Once it was over, she could run to ground and lick her wounds, but for now, she had to stay with Bax to maintain their cover. No matter how excruciating it was.

“Hey.”

She turned to see him behind her. He’d clearly just finished his run. His shirt was patchy with sweat, his unshaven chin, dark. He’d never looked better to her. But he wasn’t hers, not anymore.

Bax set down his coffee and sat at the little table. He looked at Joss, but his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. It made him look even more remote and impassive than ever. “How are you?”

“Fabulous. I can’t think when I’ve been better,” Joss said, her voice brittle and hard. “Gee, this is fun. We ought to do this more often.”

His jaw tightened briefly. “All right, dumb question. I’ll just get right to it.”

“Please do.”

“We need to talk about what happens tonight.”

“We finish the job. Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for?” Finish it and separate. So easy to say.

So difficult to do.

“Look, you’ve been waiting for this to be over, too. You can get back the one-penny Mauritius, close on what we came here to accomplish.”

“Sure. So we’ve talked about the plan. What’s your concern?” she asked, working to keep her voice as emotionless as his.

“You and me.”

For an instant, hope bloomed. “Go on.”

“Look, things are different now between us. You know it and I know it.”

“And what do you want to do about that?” What had he come to talk with her about? What did he want from her, for them?

“Nothing,” Bax said aloud. “It is what it is, but we can’t go to Silverhielm’s and let that show.”

“Oh,” Joss said tonelessly. He was talking about work. Of course. Foolish of her to expect anything else. “What do you want from me?”

“I want your assurance that when we go there tonight, we’ll act like everything is normal, everything is like it was.”

“Even though it’s not.” She searched his face for signs of regret, but his expression was so controlled she couldn’t see anything at all.

“Exactly.”

“So, why the big show? All couples have fights and break up. Why pretend?”

“Because tonight of all nights, we don’t want them wondering about anything. Everything needs to go smoothly. I just wanted to be sure that you can carry it off.”

It was like he was trying to pull a response from her,
trying to get her to plead with him one more time. “What, are you afraid I’m going to wail and weep and gnash my teeth?” Joss snapped, undone. “I can blow it off just as easily as you can, Bax. You’re not as unforgettable as you think you are.”

He stared at her for a moment and his mouth tightened. “I never thought I was,” he said softly.

T
HE SINGLE
red light flashed on the end of Silverholmen dock in the gathering dusk. Oskar slowed the little cruiser to a crawl and began to thread his way in through the breakwaters. He glanced at Bax.

“Just about there,” he said.

Bax nodded. “You remember the drill.”

“Yep,” Oskar said cheerfully. “Stay alert and out of sight.”

“The guards may come to talk with you.”

“And I will tell them that you insist I stay with the boat.”

“No matter what. Even if they tell you that I’ve sent word for you to come in. If anything changes, I’ll come tell you personally. Otherwise, stay here. We may need to leave in a hurry.”

“I have no desire to spend any more time with Silverhielm’s men than I have to.”

“Do you think they’ll recognize you?”

Oskar shrugged. “It is possible, although almost a year has passed. Anyway, they have no reason to care if I am here. I did not leave under suspicious terms.”

The long, wooden finger of the dock projected out from the steep gray rocks of the island. At the landward end, a short path made a sharp turn to the stairs that threaded up the side of the ten-foot bluff to reach the level of the back lawn and the house beyond. From where they sat on the boat, only the upper part of the house was visible.

Oskar piloted the boat up to the dock, stopping as close to the end as he could. On the other side bobbed Silverhielm’s cigarette boat. And at the end of the dock, waiting for them in a charcoal shirt, jacket and trousers, was Markus.

“You made it, I see,” he said.

Bax jumped to the dock to dog the bow line around a cleat, then moved to do the same with the stern line. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He brushed his hands off briefly and shook with Markus.

Meanwhile, Oskar shut down the engine and positioned a couple of fenders to protect the boat from contact with the dock.

Joss stepped up onto the side rail of the boat and reached out for Bax’s hand. In deference to the occasion, she’d worn a little black silk jersey dress with a plunging neckline and long sleeves that ended in belled cuffs. The hem hit her at midthigh. Heels and dark hose added the finishing touches. It wasn’t, perhaps, the best costume for walking down a dock at dusk, but it might distract Silverhielm at a crucial moment. Every bit of carelessness they could achieve was a benefit.

“Your pilot is welcome to come up to the house and stay with our men,” Markus said, talking to Bax but looking at the boat. “Oskar, wasn’t it?”

Oskar tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You have a good memory.”

“So I do. How very clever of you, Johan, to find the one person in Stockholm who knows the route to Silverholmen well.”

“I suspect there are others,” Bax observed. “A man like Silverhielm is very popular.”

“But private. It is not everyone who is invited to visit his home.”

“Then we should consider it an honor.”

“Indeed. Shall we all go up to the house?”

Bax glanced at Markus. “Oskar will stay here with the boat, thanks.”

“That would not be Mr. Silverhielm’s choice.”

“I don’t see why not. Oskar has delivered goods to Silverholmen in the past. He is trustworthy.”

Markus considered and finally nodded. “You are right, of course. So, we will leave young Oskar here and hurry up to the house. Mr. Silverhielm has something very special planned.”

F
ACETED CRYSTAL
sparkled in the flickering light of dozens of candles. Decanters of doubtlessly expensive wine sat on an antique sideboard. The thick napkin on Joss’s lap was of creamy white linen, as was the snowy tablecloth. The fork and knife she held had the heft of solid silver.

Stylishly ornate, the dining room suited the exterior of the house. Formal baroque carvings surrounded the high ceiling with its painting of Norse gods reclining on clouds. An elaborate chandelier formed of hundreds of crystal drops shimmered overhead. Paintings of hunting scenes adorned the wood-paneled walls. In one, a tusked boar bled, torn at by a pack of dogs.

It made Joss feel faintly sick.

“A toast.” Silverhielm held up his glass. “To accomplishing long-held goals.”

“To long-held goals,” they echoed and crystal rang.

“The world is fraught with disappointment,” he remarked, sitting. “What a happy occurrence, then, for a situation to occur in which everyone is satisfied.”

“It’s just a matter of having a common goal,” Joss told him.

His eyes held some private amusement. “And so we do.”

The butler began serving the dinner in silent ceremony. Course followed course, with wines to match the herring appetizer, the crab bisque, the stuffed lobster and the venison in port wine sauce.

It was surreal, Joss thought, watching Silverhielm slice off a piece of meat so rare that blood oozed out onto the white plate. How could he play the expansive host, catering to the comfort of his guests, when she knew the kind of acts he was capable of? What would he say if he knew why they were really there, she wondered, watching him chew the meat.

And what would he do?

“S
O BUSINESS
does not have to be all labor,” Silverhielm remarked, taking a drink of his port. “There is always time for pleasure.”

Dinner had given way to dessert, which had given way to brandy and cognac in the opulent living room with its deep, soft couches. A wall of French doors overlooked the water as the last rays of the setting sun gave way to the full moon. Markus sat in a chair against the wall, observing everything, saying nothing.

“Your house is exquisite,” Joss told Silverhielm, doing her best to sound sincere. “As is your chef.”

“He is very talented,” Silverhielm acknowledged. “He is not my first chef, of course. The first chef, I found, used the kitchen budget to attempt to cheat me. I took it poorly, as you might imagine.”

Joss swallowed. “Where is he now?”

“It is of no concern.” Silverhielm swirled his brandy. “Will you have some more brandy?” he asked Joss.

“No thank you. I had too much at dinner. I’m wearing high heels. If I don’t watch it, I won’t be able to walk,” she joked.

“Then slide them off. Come now, it is my house. I demand that you be comfortable.” He stepped over and lifted one of her feet by the ankle, slipping her shoe off. “And the other?”

“I can get it,” Joss said hastily, trying not to shudder at his touch.

“Now, some brandy for you.” He picked up a snifter from the tray the butler had left and brought it over to her.

Joss took the balloon glass, cupping her hands around it. Without shoes, she felt a bit naked.

“And now,” Silverhielm rose, “it is time to get to our private business, Ms. Astin.”

“Josie,” she corrected.

“Of course. So, if you will join me, Josie?” He put out his arm in a courtly fashion.

Bax stood as well. Silverhielm eyed him.

“Oh, I do not think that is necessary. This is a friendly meeting. Markus can keep you company here.”

Bax looked at Joss. “All right with you?”

“We’ll be fine,” she told him. “Won’t we, Karl?”

He led her into the hallway outside of the living room. “But of course.”

M
ARKUS ROSE
from his chair. “Come.” He walked to the open door to one side of the room. “We can play billiards while we wait.”

“Sure.” Bax followed him into the dark green room with its carved mahogany table.

“Did you consider Mr. Silverhielm’s offer any further?” Markus asked as he picked up a cue. “I think you will find his terms very generous. He rewards loyalty.”

Bax began pulling balls from the leather net pockets of the table and setting them in the wooden triangle of the rack. “I have a job to finish here. When would Silverhielm want me to come on board?”