He kept torturing him self over and over with the images her words evoked even now. He knew with certainty that Maddox had made love to her in this room. With her on top…with him behind her. His hands on her breasts.
Every breath he drew into his lungs carried the scent of her. Her room, her whole house, smelled of her. Nothing but her. She was a doctor. She was never home long enough to cook. Only to soak in a tub of fragrant water. To shower with her favorite soap and shampoo.
She didn’t wear perfume. Only the soap or maybe the subtle essence of the lotion sitting on her bed side table. He hadn’t needed to turn on a light since arriving to see any of this. He’d been here with the techs when they’d gone through her things. He’d touched the undergarments she wore next to her skin. Had inhaled the scent of her shampoo.
And then he’d watched her. Twenty-four/seven for weeks. Until he’d thought of nothing but her.
“He used me, didn’t he?”
The fragile sound of her voice carried more impact than if she’d screamed at him from the top of her lungs.
“Yes, we believe so.”
Silence.
“For how long?”
“That we don’t know.”
“That’s why you said you wouldn’t lie—” she swallowed “—like he did.”
“Yes.”
“So…” She sucked in a ragged breath, tearing the oxygen out of his with the vulnerable noise. “Maybe it was real in the beginning?”
“Maybe.”
More silence.
“I loved him, you know.”
He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears he heard in her voice. “I know.”
“Do you know how he died?”
That information was off-limits to her…but how could he let her wonder. “He died in the line of duty. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Will you take me back now?”
“Yes.”
Joe stood. He reached for her hand and led her from her room, along the short hall and down the narrow staircase. He’d been in her home enough times to know the layout probably as well as she did.
He locked the door for her when they’d exited the rear of the house. Then they walked quietly through the moonlight until they reached his sedan.
Nothing else was said as they made the trip back to the safe house.
Joe took several zigzagging routes to ensure they weren’t followed.
Daylight wasn’t far off when they finally parked in the garage.
She got out and went in side. He didn’t follow immediately.
He needed to walk off some of the tension shaking his in sides. He’d alternated between wanting to yell at her and wanting to kiss her. Managing to get by with out doing either was a credit to his sheer will power.
He’d wanted to make her for get that bastard Maddox, but he’d resisted.
She didn’t need him taking advantage of her vulnerability.
He might be a lot of things, but that kind of jerk he wasn’t.
In side the house he trudged up the stairs. He dreaded lying down again knowing sleep would not come. Their earlier candid discussion had kept him awake the greater portion of the night as it was.
He’d known when she left the house.
He’d followed but hadn’t interfered at first, only when she’d stayed too long he’d had no choice.
The time he’d given her had been enough. She’d come to her own conclusions in her own time which was best. Any thing he’d said or asserted would only have been taken with a grain of salt, would have put her on the defensive.
He didn’t bother with the light in his room. Just kicked off his shoes and peeled off his shirt, in haling one last time the smell of her where her arm had brushed against him as they’d sat on the bench in her room.
He stripped off his jeans and climbed into the bed. He was tired. Maybe he’d catch a few winks after all.
The instant his eyes closed her voice whispered through his head. Every intimate detail she’d relayed today echoed through his weary mind. He fisted his fingers in the sheet, tried his best not to think about how her nipples would feel against the palms of his hands. He licked his lips and yearned for her taste.
He could have gotten up and taken a cold shower. Probably should have. Instead he lay there and allowed the sensuous torture to engulf him. Didn’t resist.
He was too far gone for that.
Elizabeth lay in her bed, her knees curled up to her chest. Director Calder had known the truth. Hennessey had known. Maybe even Dawson.
She was the only one who hadn’t had any idea that David was using her.
How could she have been so blind?
She clenched her jaw to hold back the fury. How could he do that to her? He’d professed his love for her and all along he’d been using her.
How long had he planned his little coup?
At least one thing was for sure, he hadn’t gotten to enjoy the fruits of his evil deeds.
A part of her felt guilty for thinking about his death that way, but the more logical part of her reveled in it. He might have used her, but he’d paid the ultimate price in the end. Along with three of the agents she’d given new faces.
Her stomach roiled with dread.
Who else would die before Hennessey could stop this?
Was there nothing she could do?
Give them new faces?
But if it were that easy the CIA would have suggested it.