Dance With Me (12 page)

Paulson’s hands clenched and relaxed by his side. He turned his head but didn’t look over his shoulder or make eye contact. His voice was soft, deadly as he asked, “What option?”

The major shrugged.
What else?
“He can kill her, or I can. His choice. But if she’s guilty, she dies.”

Paulson let out a short, humorless bark of laughter and turned back to face him. “So you’re judge, jury, and executioner, huh? Is that how it is? That’s not even legal.”

The major frowned. That’s how it had always been. Trials were sticky, leaving the possibility open that the wrong verdict would be handed down. Even prisoners in Gitmo could run their organization remotely from the prison if they were smart enough and had the resources on the outside. The only sure way to end the threat was to eliminate it. It wasn’t pretty and the major wasn’t proud of it. But that’s how it was, and there was no need to defend it. “Yeah,” he responded softly. “I am. But only when there’s no question. And you know I operate on a different legal scale than you.”

Paulson looked down at his feet and fisted his hands on his hips. He was struggling with it, the major knew. But Paulson’s conflict with morality and proper procedure couldn’t change what had to happen. “I can’t let you kill her unless you show me irrefutable proof.”

The major nodded. He’d planned to anyway. “Understood.” It’s not like Paulson could exactly stop him.
Government-sanctioned assassin.
The major shoved the words out of his mind brutally. They’d never bothered him before.

With a jerky nod Paulson turned and walked away. The major watched him go silently.
At least he didn’t lose his fucking mind this time.

Chapter 10

Rebecca rolled over in bed and moaned. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her brain was freaking throbbing. She’d drank way too much. After Major left, Chris had walked Rebecca to the door to hail a cab for her. He’d known, just by looking at her, that something had happened. But he’d been kind enough to keep silent. He’d given her a gentle hug, asked if she was all right, and left it at that.

Rebecca’s night hadn’t ended there, though. If it had, she would have woken up before—she checked the clock—two thirty in the afternoon. Instead, she’d come home and cried into her beer. Rum, whatever. She’d cried harder than she had in eight years, letting the sobs consume her until she was wrung dry and drunk off her ass. Then Rebecca had stumbled to bed and passed out.

Her tears weren’t a result of getting it on with Major—first on the dance floor and then in a hidden storage room. No, Rebecca cried for what she couldn’t have. Major had come back again, but just for a moment. There would be no more sensual dances, no more fierce embraces. And worse than that, Rebecca had no possibility of having a baby to remember him by. For a few seconds after he’d left, she’d forgotten and let herself hope for a pregnancy, a small part of him that
could
stay with her forever.

But that had been taken from her so long ago. A cursed pregnancy and a forced miscarriage had caused irreparable damage to her uterus. So the surgeons had removed it and told her that she would never have children. Rebecca hadn’t told anyone. What was the point? There was nothing anyone could do about it; therefore there was no need to mope. Just like there was no need to rehash the things that had led to it. Some bodies were best left buried.

Tears burned her eyes again and Rebecca angrily squeezed them closed. Besides, she reasoned, Major had said he couldn’t get her pregnant anyway. It was a moot point. But for a few moments, there had been enough alcohol and adrenaline in her system that Rebecca had forgotten. And hope, the most dangerous of all emotions, had consumed her.

“I have some ibuprofen and water for you.”

The softly spoken words from the doorway of her bedroom startled a short scream from Rebecca’s throat. When she saw the man standing there, icy glass of water and pills in his hand, she nearly fainted.

“Major?” she whispered, stretching her hand out as though to make certain he was there.

“Yeah,” he responded drily. He moved toward her bed and sat down on the edge. Rebecca took the two pills from him and gratefully washed them down with the water. When she leaned over to put the glass on her nightstand, he stopped her.

“No, you need to drink it all.” Major looked in the direction of the living room. “You had a hell of a binge last night when you got home.”

Rebecca sipped the water and leaned back against her pillows. She picked at the comforter and asked, “Were you here?” Had he watched her fall apart? She didn’t think she’d be able to bear it if he had.

He frowned at her. “No. I came by to see you this morning. I wanted to…” He stood and turned away from her. “Fuck.” Major ran a hand across his bald head and turned back to look at her. “Rebecca, I…”

Rebecca fought the surge of warmth that engulfed her. He was nervous and struggling with what to say again. It was so damn sweet that he’d come to explain, and adorable that he was having trouble with it. Rebecca took a sip of water to hide her smile. She sincerely doubted Major would appreciate being called sweet and adorable.

“I’m sorry. I should have left you alone. I…” He stopped and swallowed, then glanced out the window.

“I didn’t want you to leave me alone.” Rebecca looked up at him, willing him to turn back to her, meet her eyes. She didn’t know what he was feeling unless she could see his eyes. But he continued to silently stare out the window, his face stony. Desperate to reach him somehow, Rebecca whispered, “Tell me your name.” When he stiffened, she whispered, “Please. You don’t have to tell me your last name. Just your first.”

“Major,” he whispered.

Rebecca sighed and shook her head. He still wouldn’t tell her. She cleared her throat to hide the hurt and asked “Is that a title or a nickname or what?”

Major turned back to her then and Rebecca clearly saw the agony in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide. How did no one else see it? “It was my rank. When I was recruited to bl…from the Army I kept my pay grade. I was an O-4. A major. It stuck.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “Your pay grade?” She lifted onto her knees, climbed off the bed and stalked up to him. She pushed
hard
against his shoulder. He didn’t budge and that only served to make her angrier. “I’ve been calling you by your damn
rank
?” Her voice rose until she was practically screeching the last word.

Major just stared at her, a dumbfounded look on his face.

Rebecca pushed him again and resisted the urge to punch him. He’d probably just stop her anyway. “Like one of your little soldiers, I’ve been calling you Major.” The wariness in his eyes faded and was replaced with amusement, though his face didn’t change at all. Rage simmered behind Rebecca’s breastbone. She was insulted, felt demeaned and degraded, and she struggled against the juvenile tantrum fizzing through her limbs. Finally giving in to part of the urge, she placed both hands against his chest and tried to push.

Before she could though, his hands wrapped around her wrists and he pulled both arms behind her back. It was so fast Rebecca didn’t even blink before her body was pressed against his, her breasts flattened against his chest.

“What do they call you when you report? You report to
someone
don’t you?” She spat out, struggling against his hold. He only held her tighter, making her fight even harder.

After a few embarrassing moments of the struggle, Major tossed her to the bed and covered her body with his, lifting her arms above her head and restraining her that way.

“Stop it,” he chastised softly. “You’ll hurt yourself instead of me.” When Rebecca froze beneath him her breasts rose and fell rapidly with exertion. He was a damn tank. “If you want to wail on me, that’s fine. But don’t startle me like that.”

Rebecca stared up at him incredulously. “I can smack you as long as I don’t
startle
you? Seriously? You expect me to warn you before I attack you so you don’t stop me?” She snorted, but it turned into a sob. She bit back the tears. Rebecca had no idea what to do with a man like this. Even the SEALs she’d gotten to know weren’t so…extreme. Major was broken, in a different way than she was, but broken just the same. He was a kindred spirit and he appealed to Rebecca in every way, his dark soul calling to hers. But he was deadlier than any person she’d ever met. And he would leave. Major would always leave and it would eventually break her heart. He was apologizing for not letting her hit him, and it was too much. The previous night, the headache, his presence—all came crashing down on her and Rebecca released another sob before the flood of tears came.

“Please don’t do that.” Major looked stricken and released her hands immediately. He stood and pulled her in front of him until she was standing in the warm circle of his arms. “Go ahead and hit me. I won’t stop you this time. I promise. Come on,” he urged when she just stood there. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Rebecca buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He was torturing her, the way he kept appearing, but it was bittersweet…she didn’t
want
him to stop, but she
needed
him to. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but before she could speak he’d tilted her face up and pressed his lips against hers.

He kissed her gently, stroking his tongue against her lips before dipping inside for a brief taste. Rebecca cried harder.

“God, I’m so sorry.” His voice splintered and Major tugged her harder against him. “Please don’t cry, please don’t. Not for me. I’m not worth it.”

His cheek rested against the top of her head and Rebecca wiped her eyes on his shirt. He
was
worth it, was the only man she’d ever met who was, and that was why Rebecca sobbed in his arms.

Major’s voice was low when he said, “If you stop crying…I’ll tell you my name. The one my mother gave me. My real name. But you can’t use it.”

Rebecca gripped the fabric of his shirt in her hands as she struggled to stop her tears. She wanted that name, dammit. After several minutes her sniffling finally subsided and Major pulled away to look down at her. One corner of his mouth barely lifted and her heart jumped at that tiny smile. She watched him, waiting.

Major sighed and pulled her cheek against his chest again. “I need to sweep your house first.”

Rebecca frowned. Sweep her house? “What do you mean?”

“For bugs.” Major rocked her gently back and forth.

“Bugs?” Rebecca knew what he meant, that the bugs he was talking about weren’t the six-legged kind. But why would he think…Her thoughts trailed off as she realized why. Major trusted no one. Not even her. And to her surprise, Rebecca wasn’t even insulted. She understood. “All right,” she conceded. If he was going to tell her his name, he trusted her more than he’d probably trusted anyone in a long time. So if he wanted to sweep her house for bugs, he was welcome to.

Major pulled away and held her at arm's length, his hands curled around her shoulders. “I need to go get something. It’ll take about thirty minutes. Will you be okay?”

Rebecca nodded and sniffed. “Promise you’ll come back?” When he nodded, his jaw tight, Rebecca clarified, “Today. In thirty minutes. If you don’t…” The words hurt to say, caused a physical pain in her stomach, but Rebecca knew she had to say them. “If you don’t come back today, then don’t come back at all.”

Major nodded and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before turning and walking from the bedroom. “I’ll be back. Today.”

Rebecca watched him go, heard the sound of the lock turning, then the front door closing. She wondered for a moment how he’d gotten in and then rolled her eyes. The man could probably get into Fort Knox if he was so inclined. She drank the rest of the water he’d brought her and turned to take a shower. She had a mess to clean up before he got back.

* * * *

Fuck, fuck, fuck!
The major cursed himself all the way to the motel. He’d promised to tell her his name, thinking he could just give her a fake name. But when she’d looked up at him, her brown eyes soft and red-rimmed, he’d lost his resolve. She was expecting a name and there was only one the major could give her.

He said it aloud, trying it on for size. It felt like an old shoe he’d rediscovered in the back of a closet: comfortable and familiar but odd at the same time. Different. He’d been the major for so long that he didn’t know if he’d even turn his head if someone called his name.

The major opened the rickety desk drawer and removed the RF receiver he’d used to sweep the motel room and immediately turned to leave. He wouldn’t need anything more sensitive than that. The likelihood that Rebecca was bugged was so low as to be ridiculous. But he had to be sure first.

He parked the green sedan he’d bought three blocks from Rebecca’s duplex. He’d ditched the blue one along with Rick Jones. The walk was short, and he checked his watch to make sure he’d made it in time. Twenty-eight minutes. The major considered letting himself inside her house again, but decided to knock instead.

Rebecca opened the door immediately and he scowled at her. “You could at least look out the peephole.” She rolled her eyes at him and the major felt a spurt of irritation. Very few people had the balls to disrespect him once they knew who and what he was. Rebecca didn’t care and God, it was fucking frustrating how much that appealed to him.

The major removed the little black device from the pouch and stepped across the threshold as he flipped it on. He swept each room carefully, noting that she’d cleaned up her kitchen and living room. She’d apparently come home from the club and had a one-woman party but drank enough for three or four. Neat-freak that she was, the mess had probably driven her crazy.

It took less than fifteen minutes to sweep the two-bedroom house and the major put the RF receiver back in the black case slowly. He was dreading this, but he’d decided to tell her…not everything, but a lot. If it got him killed, fine. He was so tired of the subterfuge and death that had taken over his every waking moment. It was exhausting. And if he only got to leave his memory with one person, the major wanted it to be Rebecca.