And even if he was wrong, even if she was the home-and-hearth type, and the illusion could be maintained there was always the risk that his enemies, those made before his time in the Elite Ops, would find him. And when they found him, they would find his weakness.
Tehya.
She was the weakness. She was the one woman capable of breaking his control.
“Nothing to say?” she whispered from where she lay against him, obviously awake. It was too much to pray she had gone to sleep.
When he said nothing, she moved. Jordan had to force himself to let her go, to refrain from pulling her back to his chest. Where she belonged.
Rolling from his side she rose from the bed, and slowly, wearily, she collected her gown from the floor and pulled it over her head. She looked defeated. That realization tore at his concience, leaving him steeped in regret and guilt.
Wiping his hand over his face, Jordan rose as well, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched her broodingly. Son of a bitch, this was one of the reasons he hadn’t taken her to his bed. Tehya wasn’t a one-night stand, and he had known it. Fuck, hurting her was killing him.
Hurting Tehya was something he had tried desperately not to do over the years. In all his life there had never been anyone he wanted to protect more than he wanted to protect Tehya. There had never been a woman so hard to let go.
Something he had known from the beginning that he had no choice about.
* * *
Tehya promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She fought back the tears but she couldn’t fight back the pain clenching her chest and throbbing through her heart.
She had always assumed a broken heart was more figurative than literal, but she could feel it ripping in half inside her chest. Even her bones ached, her ribs felt too tight, under pressure, as though the emotions tearing at her heart were going to burst from her skin, as well.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Those eyes. That brilliant, almost neon blue stared back at her somberly.
Irish Eyes, her friend Jordan’s sister-in-law, Sabella Blake, had told her once. Jordan had Irish Eyes; any woman lucky enough to steal his love would have a true window into his soul. Sabella had told her how she had once “seen” the horror of her husband’s torture when he was kidnapped by a drug cartel owner. That she had felt his pain, dreamed of his screams.
Tehya had always wondered what such love would feel like. She had fantasized about possessing this man’s love in such a way. A fantasy. That was all it was. A fantasy she had to let go of now.
“I have to finish packing.” She heard the hoarseness of her voice and knew she wasn’t hiding her emotions as well as she had hoped. She didn’t want him to feel responsible, or guilty that he couldn’t love her. Hell, her own father hadn’t loved her, why would any other man?
“Tehya, I don’t want to lose your friendship, either, not because of this,” he said as he pushed his legs into his jeans then rose and pulled them over his muscled legs, his gaze somber as he watched her closely.
“Are we friends, Jordan? Were we ever?” She had never felt friendship with him. Friends was the last thing they would ever be. She felt too much for him, hungered too deeply for his touch.
She couldn’t define exactly what she had felt from him over the years. She knew her own emotions had been in conflict more than once, but friendship had never been the definition she would used to describe their relationship.
“I hoped we were.” That edge of regret in his voice tore at her.
She could almost feel the pity coming, and she really didn’t want to have to shoot him. If he dared to feel sorry for her, then that would be the least of the problems he would have.
Giving her head a quick shake, she turned and walked from the bedroom. She couldn’t handle this tonight. She couldn’t stand here and discuss friendship, see the pity on his face, or confront the fact that the years of dreams had been wasted effort.
God, it had been so long. Ever since that night in Aruba when she had come to Ian Richards to help him capture Sorrel. It had been too damned long. Suddenly, she felt far older than she actually was, and far too tired to fight with herself or with Jordan any longer.
“Tehya?” Jordan followed, standing in the bedroom doorway as she moved to the pile of empty boxes and protective paper stacked next to the shelves she hadn’t yet begun to pack. Because packing meant leaving, and leaving was killing her.
Each of the trinkets had been collected over the years. There were pocket dragons, fairies, expensive little keepsake boxes. And there were pictures. Pictures of the team she had worked with, their wives, and a few included the children of those men. In some, there was an unsmiling Jordan. In one, he stood next to Tehya, an arm around her shoulders, as they stared back at the camera.
These were the past six years of her life.
She picked up the picture of her and Jordan first, wrapped it, packed it.
“Why do you think I hadn’t taken you to my bed before now?” he asked from the bedroom doorway.
She had always known why. Because once he did, she would have no choice but to leave.
“Why don’t you leave, Jordan?” She didn’t look at him, she couldn’t.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, and she wasn’t about to do it while he was standing there watching her as though waiting for her to break apart.
Before she knew it, he was next to her, his hands gripping her upper arms as he jerked her around.
She saw the anger then. His eyes were bright with it, the blue snapping down at her, his expression tight with regret.
“I didn’t want to hurt you!”
“And you haven’t.” She wasn’t backing down from him but she was damned if she would cry for him. She wouldn’t do that to either of them.
He hadn’t done this to her, he hadn’t asked her what she felt. And how many times had he pushed her away, done everything but told her that it couldn’t happen? She had been the one that pushed for it, that dared him. She had broken her own heart.
It had been her own stubbornness, her own stupidity, that had led her here. She had known better. At least she should have known better.
Sex wasn’t love, and she could see now what he had tried to save her from. Sex couldn’t change him and sex wasn’t going to make him suddenly realize he couldn’t live without her.
Yet the anger was there inside her, as well. A feminine fury she couldn’t escape.
“Tehya, we’re friends,” he ground out furiously. “If you ever need me…”
“I didn’t need you before I came here, and I won’t need you after I leave.” Jerking away from him, she stalked to the far side of the room and faced him where the sheer power of his presence would hopefully be diluted. “It’s been fun Jordan, thanks for the memories and the sex, but you can leave now.”
“God, Tehya!” He raked his fingers through his hair, the long, silken strands falling around his face with such male, sensual disarray that she had to clench her fingers at the overwhelming need to run them through it again.
“Don’t do this, Jordan.” She had to get away from him, she had to hold back the tears. “Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. For both of us. Just leave.”
Over the years, that was all she had done, held back her emotions, held back her dreams, hell, she had held back her life in the hope, the dream, that something more than blood could fill her future.
She had obviously been so wrong. Her time here was over. The Elite Ops was shutting down and the new team coming in didn’t need her. They had their own people, their own specialties. No one needed the daughter of a white slaver. A woman who had no true specialty, no family, and no longer a reason for being there.
She had no special training. She had no true education. She was an outcast, plain and simple. Unlike the other members of the team, she didn’t have a happily-ever-after waiting for her when she walked out the doors of the base.
There would be no family waiting for h
er. There were no friends she could look up. She had a new identity, but she had no idea what the hell to do with it or where to go with it.
She watched as he shrugged his shirt on and buttoned it with quick, angry movements. She couldn’t miss the anger, it glowed in his eyes, tightened his body. There was nothing she could do to alleviate it either.
“I don’t want to lose contact with you.” He seemed to be forcing the words out.
He was placating her and she hated that. The last thing he would want would be to stay in contact with a woman he pitied.
She nodded slowly. “I’m sure we won’t. We have friends in common. Hell, you can always call, right?”
She doubted he would, despite the fact that he had given approval for the team members to keep the satellite phones they had been assigned, as well as the numbers.
As she stared back at him, the only other dream she had left rose in her mind. A life that she could build with the new identity she had been given, and maybe, just maybe, there was one other person in the world that she could connect with. The cousin who didn’t know her, who wouldn’t recognize her. But a cousin she might be able to build a friendship with.
She still had that fragment of a dream. The Elite Ops had at least given her the ability to walk away safe.
“Tehya.” The sound of his voice, the regret returning, was tearing her apart.
She didn’t want this. She should have never pushed him, she should have walked out of here and kept the dreams rather than the reality.
Touching him, being touched by him, feeling the first orgasm of her life that she hadn’t given herself, would destroy her now. Because she knew what it could be. She knew what she was losing, and it would haunt her every day of her life.
“I need some time.” She swallowed tightly realizing his sense of responsibility wouldn’t allow him to leave her alone otherwise.
“I can give you time.” He nodded slowly. “But not indefinitely, Tehya. The day will come soon when we’ll talk about this.”
No, it wouldn’t. When the transportation team arrived to haul away her belongings, she would already be gone. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t bear to see him, even another moment. If she didn’t leave before morning came, then she would beg. And God knew, she didn’t want to beg for a love he couldn’t give her.
“Of course we will.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and turned away from him as she moved to the open kitchen. “We’ll talk.”
They wouldn’t talk, because there was nothing for them to talk about.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he stated.
And Tehya nodded. It was another lie. They wouldn’t talk in the morning, he wouldn’t see her in the morning, because she wouldn’t be here.
She didn’t hear him move, she felt him move. She felt him coming closer to her and tensed, knowing that the connection to him would be severed forever once she walked out of the base.
It was just over. There were no more chances to capture his heart.
She had failed. The most important dream she had ever had, and she had failed.
His hands settled on her shoulders, his hold implacable as he turned her until he could pull her against his chest.
“I should have never touched you, Tey,” he whispered as his lips brushed against her hair. “You’re too important to me to lose you this way.”
Her teeth clenched. She was going to lose it. Tears thickened her throat, pooled in her eyes. The agony racing through her was tearing her apart second by second until her heart felt like a ragged wound in her chest. She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg, and she thanked God her pride held her back.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” she informed him, amazed that she could speak, that she could breathe through the pain. “Just go away, Jordan. I’ll have it all together in the morning and we’ll forget it ever happened.”
She would never forget it. She had thought that if she could force him to admit he wanted her, she would have a chance at his heart. She had never imagined it would become one night only. What a childishly romantic thought. She of all people should know better than to believe in fairy tales.
“Tehya.” The grimace that tightened his face broke her heart.
That expression said it all. The tightening of his lips, the chill in his eyes. Dealing with her emotions, dealing with the fact that she had expected more, was a duty he’d rather be well rid of, no matter what he said.
She should have been thankful he had allowed her on the team. She, the daughter of the enemy who had murdered his friend, who had been instrumental in nearly destroying his nephew. She might have killed Sorrel, but she still had his blood. She was still his daughter. And she should have known Jordan would have never been able to love someone so closely related to such an enemy.
“We’ll talk in the morning.” Her voice was thicker. She was so close to crying it was humiliating. In that moment she hated the emotions that raged through her. She wished she could be hard, cold, that she could feel only that twinge of regret that she didn’t have the emotional capacity to care for anyone outside friendship as he did.
She watched as his head turned, his jaw tightened. Then he gave a brief, hard nod before striding to the door.
“We will discuss this in the morning,” he informed her, then opened the door and left the suite.
And then the tears fell.
The sob that tore from her shocked her. She’d been certain she could hold it in. Her knees weakened to the point that she nearly fell to the floor as her hands pressed tight and hard into the clenching muscles of her stomach.
The emotional pain hurt worse than a bullet.
She could feel the ragged, gaping hole in her chest where her heart had once been, and the agony of it was a horrible realization. She felt as though she were dying inside. As though a part of her soul were being ripped away from her.
She hadn’t thought it would hurt this bad.
She hadn’t imagined it would be this hard to face.
Returning to the bedroom, she quickly dressed in jeans, T-shirt, boots. A leather jacket was thrown over the duffel bag she had packed in the closet. A smaller backpack sat next to it.
The moving team had the address and instructions for handling her belongings. They would be stored for the time being, because she had no place to go.
All she knew was that there was no way she could face Jordan when morning came. That the ragged pain in her chest would only turn to anger, and she didn’t want the love to turn to hatred.
There was nothing left to do but to leave before she was forced to face him again. Before she could push him again, before she could plead with him to love her, beg him to tell her why he didn’t.
Before she broke down completely and a lifetime of pain and grief overwhelmed her.
How silly of her to believe he could love her when no one else ever had.
* * *
Jordan knew Tehya was gone the second he entered her suite. There was such a sense of emptiness, of abandonment, that it was unmistakable. The effect it had on him was undeniable.
She was gone.
His chest tightened with a ragged pain that had his teeth clenching, his fingers fisting. The need to hit something tore through him, nearly overwhelming his self-control.
A violent, bitter curse escaped his lips before he could cut off the sound.
Breathing out a weary sigh, he shoved his hands in his pockets and moved through the large set of rooms anyway. Just to be certain.
If she had taken anything with her, it wasn’t much. Perhaps a few changes of clothes, he thought as he checked the closet, only to see stacked boxes within them marked “Clothes.” He found the same thing throughout the rest of the suite. Boxes neatly packed, closed and taped. Tehya’s life reduced to less than a quarter of the capacity of the moving van arriving to relocate her.
He found himself swallowing tightly, his throat oddly blocked at the realization of how little Tehya had amassed over the years
. Unlike the other agents, she had no secondary home, no family to go back to, no other house in which to store her belongings. She’d had nothing but the Elite Ops.
And now, she had no one.
A hard grimace contorted his face before he could control it, a result of the hard ache that clenched his chest. Fuck, he missed her already. Her laughter, her shy smiles, her almost innocent sensuality and affection for him.
He should have never taken her. Or perhaps, after taking her he should have taken her again, and again. until she was too tired to run
Turning, he strode from the suite and headed for the garage area, wondering which vehicle she had taken.
Standing in front of the empty slot where his favorite had sat, he almost grinned. She had chosen the black Viper over the many more expensive performance vehicles available. His favorite. The one he had driven more often and had claimed over the years.
Had she taken the Viper because it was the only part of him she could leave with?
She had taken much more with her than she guessed. Already he could feel the empty ache, the dark, brutal core of unrequited need throbbing in his soul.
But she was alive, he told himself as that ache threatened to roll over to grief. She wasn’t in his life, but she had a chance to have a life now. A chance to live rather than hide from the past that had haunted her.
That didn’t stop that ragged hole in his heart from bleeding, though, and damn if he had expected that. He’d expected regret, hell, he’d known he would miss her. But the ache radiating in his chest wasn’t just regret. He didn’t just miss her.
His nostrils flared as he breathed in hard and turned sharply from the parking area to stride back to his own suite.
He had let her go; holding on to her wasn’t an option. Whatever he was feeling would eventually go away, he assured himself. She had been a part of his life for too long, tempting him, trying to draw closer to him, wiggling her way inside him despite his defenses.
And it fucking hurt to lose her.
But he had lost before. Friends, lovers, coworkers. The violence that permeated the life he lived had taken them from him.