I closed the door without answering, and then scrambled to the stairs of my condo building as fast as my high stilettos would take me there.
Marcus didn’t get out of the car, but he didn’t leave until I’d made it past security and ducked into the building.
By the time I got to my condo and looked out the window, Marcus was gone.
Marcus
“Since when does Danica have a condo here in Miami?” I asked Jett, using the speakerphone on my cell so my hands were free and I could yank off my tie.
The luxury penthouse I owned had walls of windows with spectacular beachside views when it was daylight. But since it was dark, there was every possibility that some neighbor could see me stripping down to my underwear, but I didn’t give a shit.
It was summer, and it was pretty damn hot and humid in Southern Florida. I wanted to get my dirty clothes off. I grudgingly admitted that I also needed to give my poor dick a break. I’d been rock-hard since the moment I’d seen Danica in that skimpy blouse and tight leather skirt. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to get that image out of my mind since she’d jumped out of my limo with her ass barely covered.
“Actually, she and Harper own the condo,” Jett informed me. “They both love the beach.”
I yanked my tie loose and dropped it on a chair. “She’s at her condo for now,” I said, starting on the buttons of my shirt. “But I’m not sure she’ll stay there. I just can’t figure out what’s so damn appealing about Becker.”
“I’m not sure,” Jett mused. “All I know is that Dani has been different since she came back from her kidnapping.”
“Different how?”
“This might sound weird, but she seems…sad. She used to be able to have more fun than any of us. Now I never even see her smile anymore.”
Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her smile, either. Granted, we’d both been working when we’d met up in the past, but that hadn’t stopped her from smiling and laughing before. She’d always been feisty, but she seemed more like a shadow of that woman now. Not that she wasn’t still sassy, but she had a harder edge. “She was going to be changed, Jett. You can’t go through an experience like Danica did without coming away from the experience a changed person.”
I didn’t tell him that Dani had already explained that she felt different, that she wasn’t sure who she was anymore.
For some reason, that bothered me. Danica was the same person inside, but she seemed incredibly…wary. She looked at the world as a different, much scarier place. Although I understood why she felt that way, I detested the fact that she was no longer able to look at places and people with the same curiosity she used to have.
Even though she had a wickedly sharp mouth, the innocence she’d once had was gone, and I mourned the loss. It made me feel even more protective and determined to make sure she regained the sense of wonder that had been so much a part of her before.
“Maybe everything we’ve heard about Becker is just rumor,” Jett contemplated aloud. “What if he’s actually a decent guy? I’d feel like a jerk if I tried to take somebody away from Dani who she cared about if the only thing he’s guilty of is being the subject of rumors.”
With the buttons free, I yanked off my shirt and tossed it onto the same chair where my tie had landed.
What in the hell could I tell Jett? Nobody except my family knew that I worked as a special operative for the CIA. I couldn’t explain that the agency had been trying to gather intel on Becker for years, and that one day they’d get what they needed to put him away. He was the worst of the worst, a guy who got rich on making people into addicts and prostitutes, and it wasn’t always by their choice. I was fairly certain the suspicion of Becker funding the terrorists was true. We just hadn’t been able to find the intel that linked him, without doubt, to the rebels.
“No chance of that,” I finally answered. “He’s an asshole.”
“I hate being fucking lame,” Jett said in a frustrated tone. “I’d like to be there with you right now. But I have another minor surgery tomorrow. All this work to try to make me look presentable again. Hell, I know some of these marks will never heal, and I’ll always probably limp when I’m tired.”
I could almost hear his irritation through the phone connection, and as usual, I felt guilty as hell. “I wish I’d never brought you into PRO.”
“I don’t regret it, Marcus. We did a lot of good things, saved a lot of lives. And in the end, I didn’t end up married to a woman who only wanted my money. But even she couldn’t tolerate my injuries, even if it would make her wealthy as hell.”
I flinched as I stepped out of my pants, tossed them on the chair, and then flopped onto a white leather couch, dressed only in a pair of boxer briefs. “You made a lucky escape from that one,” I agreed. “But I feel like shit because I brought you into PRO. It was my operation.”
Jett had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. When our helicopter had gone down, anybody who was on the side that bit the dust had some crush injuries from heavy equipment and other supplies falling on top of them. Jett had gotten the worst of it. He’d been on the wrong side and in the wrong area. I’d only suffered minor injuries, something I’d felt guilty as hell about seeing as a few on my team had been injured way worse. The others had recovered, but Jett would never be quite the same, and that ate at me.
For some time, his internal injuries had been so bad that nobody knew if he would make it. When we realized he was going to live, we discovered it wasn’t happening without challenges. They’d put my buddy and team member back together, but his leg would never be the same, and he had a lot of scarring.
“I wouldn’t do it any differently, even if I could,” Jett answered thoughtfully. “Besides, you needed me. I’m the best damn tech intel guy you could get.”
I let out a bark of laughter—which was unusual for me—but I knew what he was saying was true. I owed many of PRO’s successful missions to Jett. He was a damn genius when it came to Internet technology and programming.
I stood up and went to the fridge for a beer, screwing the top off as I answered, “You got me there. There’s nobody better in the field.”
“Damn right,” Jett quipped.
“What are you working on now?” I asked curiously.
“Not much,” he answered glumly. “Haven’t had a lot of time. But the current projects for the company are progressing well.”
Jett owned an enormous computer technology and cyber security company, and was doing a number of projects at any given time. Luckily, his profession was something he could manage at home in Seattle.
“Just worry about recovering,” I told him. “I think you’re rich enough.”
“Not as loaded as you are,” he protested. “But it’s never been about the money for me anyway.”
Jett’s father and mother had died in a car accident, leaving all of their children with billions of dollars, much like what had happened to my father. “But you’re doing what you love,” I answered.