Chances Are(40)

Despite his exhaustion, when he’d heard Cavanaugh’s request, he had been about to offer his help. Even though he wanted to get the confrontation with Angela over as soon as possible, his duty to LCR overrode his personal needs. The instant he’d learned who one of the operatives in danger was, his offer became something else. Nothing could have stopped him from joining the op.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “I don’t think Gardon will be calling on LCR again.”

“So what went down inside?” Angela said.

Thorne, who usually had a semi-pleasant expression on his face, looked pissed as he said, “When we got inside, we were greeted by Rupert’s friends. They were all wearing the same outfit—AK-47s.”

“It’s a wonder they didn’t shoot you as soon as they saw you,” Angela said.

Thorne grinned, his grim expression replaced with his usual humor. “Yeah, well, just cause the idiots had the weapons didn’t mean they knew how to use them. We got two of them disarmed quick.” The grin disappeared as he added. “The other one got off a few rounds before we could neutralize him. That’s when Gardon forced his wife out of the house.”

And Jake would never forget what happened next. Seeing Angela in that kind of danger was the stuff of nightmares. But damn if she hadn’t handled herself like a pro.

He’d had a month to think about what he’d done and now, nothing was going to stop him from saying what he needed to say. Problem was, did she want to hear it? Other than her initial “What are you doing here?” Angela hadn’t spoken to him, had barely even looked at him. Was he too late? Had he f*cked it up so bad, he couldn’t fix it?

No, he refused to believe that. She’d damn well listen to him…she had to.

Cavanaugh took a long swallow from his beer and stood. “I’m headed to my room for some shuteye. The plane leaves at 0700.” He shot a glance at Thorne. “You coming?”

His gaze going from Jake to Angela, he slumped back in his chair with a lazy grin. “Nah. Think I’ll stay a while longer.”

The grin turned to a painful grimace when Cavanaugh’s hand landed hard on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Thorne.”

Jake threw Cavanaugh a grateful smile while Thorne winked at them both and got up. “Come to think of it, I am kind of sleepy.”

The two men disappeared out the door, leaving Jake and Angela alone at last. Unsure how to start, he cleared his throat. He’d never been one for declarations so dammed if he could figure out the exact words he wanted to say, especially about something this important. After having had weeks to think about it, one would think he’d have a whole speech prepared. But instead of spilling his guts, he heard himself say, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Completely fit. I think the scars on my feet will completely fade with time.”

“That’s good.”

Hell, he felt like he had sawdust in his mouth. Swallowing, he was about to say something hopefully meaningful when she gave him unexpected news.

“Delacourte’s dead.”

“What happened?”

“Someone got to him in jail. The theory is that a relative of one of the victims paid to have him killed.”

“The world’s a better place without him.”

“I agree.” She looked down at her hands, a clear indication that she was uncomfortable.

Jake cleared his throat. “Can we go somewhere and talk privately?”

She looked around. “This isn’t private?”

“Not the kind I’m going to need.”

“I see.” She grabbed her purse and slid off her stool. “We can go to my hotel room.”

Angela watched as Jake shoved his chair back and threw money down for their tab. Why was he here? The moment she had seen him, all she could think about was throwing herself into his arms. If Beatrice Gardon hadn’t had dynamite strapped to her body, that’s exactly what she would have done.

Was he going to try to talk her out of being an operative again? She was tired and vulnerable tonight. If he asked, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t at least tell him she would think about it just to have him hold her again. Angela hated that she was so weak but it had always been that way with Jake. She wanted to please him.

They walked the short distance to the hotel in silence. It was past one in the morning and only a few people were around. She breathed in the fragrance of the spring night and tried to pretend, for just a moment, that all was right in her world. That she and Jake had just come off a successful mission and were enjoying some downtime together.

The fantasy lasted until they walked into her room. Then the silence, instead of easy and comfortable, became painful. Angela moved across the room to the window and leaned against it, her arms crossed. As much as she wanted to say things to make it all better, she couldn’t. And if she stayed close to him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist touching him.

Jake sat on the edge of the bed and faced her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things.”

Angela tensed. The expression on his face was impossible to read.

“I came back here to ask you to reconsider being an operative.”

Her heart plunged and despair filled her again. Angela opened her mouth to once again try to convince him to change his mind when he added, “And then when I saw how you handled yourself today, I realized I couldn’t. You were in your element, doing what you’ve always wanted to do and doing a damn good job.” He shook his head. “I should never have asked you to give up your dreams.”

Hope rising, her voice was so thick she hardly recognized it as hers. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that…” He stopped and shoved his fingers through his hair. “I’m saying that whether you’re an LCR operative, a researcher or hell, a stripper, I don’t care.”

She’d gone from hopeless to ecstatic and now she was somewhere in limbo, being tortured by uncertainty. What was he trying to tell her?

“What, Jake?”

A faraway look came over his face. “When Teresa was killed, I spent a lot of time thinking about all the things I didn’t get to say to her, all the things I wished we had done together. All the time we wasted that we didn’t even realize was a waste.”

Still not breathing, Angela waited.

Blue eyes glinting with more emotion than she’d ever seen in them, Jake continued, “Bottom line—I don’t want to live without you. I’ve wasted enough time as it is. So if it’s only a day, a month, or a year that I can be with you, I don’t want to miss another minute of it.”

She held on to the windowsill behind her to keep from running across the room, into his arms. “What happens when I’m on an op? How are you going to handle it?”

“I won’t lie to you…I’ll worry. I hope to be with you on most of them but if I can’t be, I trust you to know how to handle yourself.”

Angela leaped toward him and Jake caught her, swinging her around in his arms. Then setting her feet on the floor, he cupped her face in his hands. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Angela Delvecchio. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She stood on her toes to kiss him and was surprised when he pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

“I have something to show you.” He backed up and unbuttoned his shirt. So mesmerized by the beautiful muscled chest he was revealing, she missed his next words.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s a message for you.” Shrugging his shirt off, he dropped it to the floor and turned his back to her.

Something was written on the back of his neck. She drew closer and her eyes filled with tears. In the exact place where she had her rose tattoo with the word ‘survivor’ in the middle, he’d had tattooed on his neck: I love a survivor.

Swallowing a sob of joy, Angela leaped at him again. He turned at the last second, caught her in his arms and then fell onto the bed with her beside him. Covering her face with kisses, he licked at the salty tears streaming down her face.

“I thought you hated needles,” she said breathlessly.

“I do, but you, Angela Delvecchio, I adore.”

“And I love and adore you, Jake Mallory.”

“Partners at work and at home?”

“Yes, partners,” she whispered.

“Forever?”

Her heart soaring, she spoke against his mouth, “Forever.”





Epilogue

Three Months Later

The McCall’s house

Paris

“You think they’ll be surprised or upset?”

Lifting a strand of Mara’s silky black hair, Noah pushed it aside to reveal a bare, elegant shoulder. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her creamy skin, breathed in her subtle delicate perfume and wished they had time for more. With guests numbering close to a hundred arriving in a matter of minutes, he knew that wasn’t possible.