Elizabeth did the thing with her right arm that she was convinced Joe would never get right. A clever little salute of a wave Maddox had tossed her way every time he saw her. It wasn’t that big a deal. He doubted Maddox waved at his tar gets.
Since she waited, glaring at him, Joe assumed she was ready for him to try again. So he did.
She shook her head. “That’s still not right.” At his annoyed look she threw up her hands. “This is impossible! You’re not going to get it. You’re not him!”
Enough.
Joe got right in her face. She blinked, but to her credit, she didn’t back off.
“You know what, you’re right, I’m not him.” He grappled to regain some kind of hold on his temper. “What I need is for you to teach me what I need to know, not dog out my every attempt.”
She held her ground, her arrogant little chin jutting out even further. “You know what? I think we need a break.”
He straightened, shook his head. “Oh yeah. That’s what we need. We’ve just gotten started and already we need a break. At this rate all those agents will be dead and we won’t even need to go through with this operation any way.”
Her mouth opened and the harsh in take of breath told him he’d hit his mark way before the hurt glimmering in her eyes told the tale. “Someone else is dead?”
Dammit. He hadn’t meant to tell her about that. Calder had instructed him to keep quiet about the latest hit for fear she would be so shaken she wouldn’t be able to continue with their work. Continue, hell, they hadn’t even started. Not really.
He booted her words from the other night out of his head. He couldn’t keep going over that like a repeating blog. She’d admitted, when she thought he was asleep, that he affected her and her words had affected him. Even half-comatose he’d felt a surge of want deep in his gut.
Maybe it was just the fact that he’d despised Maddox that made him want her. Then again, the truth was, he hadn’t known Maddox that well. Maybe he’d despised Maddox because he had the girl Joe wanted.
And he wouldn’t have ever known if it hadn’t been for that one night.
That night had changed everything.
“Answer me, Hennessey,” she demanded. “Who is dead?”
His hope that being on a first-name basis might bring a unity and informality to their work had bombed big time.
“Agent Motley. You may not remember him—”
“I remember him,” she interrupted. “He was the first transformation.”
She looked ready to crumple but some how she didn’t. Instead she looked at him with hellfire in her eyes. “What about his family?”
Joe hated even worse to tell her this part. “His wife was murdered as well. But his daughter was away with friends so she’s okay.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “She isn’t okay, Hennessey. She won’t ever be okay again. Her parents were murdered and she’s alone.”
Neither of them moved for five seconds that turned into ten. He couldn’t help wondering if the person Elizabeth was really talking about was her. She was alone…basically. Her father, retired Colonel Cameron, had died years ago, but her mother was still alive, at least in body. Alzheimer’s had made an invalid of her and she no longer recognized her own daughter. She lived in a home especially for Alzheimer’s patients. Maddox had been Elizabeth’s only viable emotional attachment.
Was that why she had such trouble dealing with this operation?
“She won’t be alone, Elizabeth,” Joe said softly. He resisted the urge to move closer, to comfort her with his touch. “She has aunts, uncles and cousins. It won’t be the same but she won’t be alone.”
Elizabeth wet her lips. He saw her lower one tremble just a little. “That’s good.” She nodded. “I’m glad she has a support system.”
The way you didn’t? he wanted to ask.
“Who are we really talking about here, Elizabeth? You or Agent Motley’s daughter?”
Fury flashed across her face. “I don’t know what you mean, Agent Hennessey. I’m perfectly fine.”
“I think you haven’t gotten over losing Maddox.”
Judging by the horror in her eyes, completely deflating her anger, he’d royally screwed up by making that comment.
“This isn’t a counseling session, Agent Hennessey,” she returned coolly, too coolly. “I don’t need your conclusions on my relationships.”
“Relationship,” he corrected, asking for more trouble.
She glowered at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. Hell, he was in over his head now, might as well say the rest. “Relationship,” he repeated. “From what I can tell that’s the only long-term commitment you’ve been involved in. Before or since.”
Her hands settled on her hips, drawing his reluctant attention to the way her jeans molded to her soft curves. Damn, he was doomed.