Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: To Honor and To Protect\Cornered\Untraceable (44 page)

Juliet knew she had no claim on Evan, no say about his intimacy with other women. Because what could she do? It wasn't as if she could get involved with him, even if he wasn't dating someone. Men tended not to like it when their woman shied away from them every time they were touched.

So what did it matter if Evan had a gorgeous interior decorating girlfriend? If the woman didn't care if Evan went undercover as someone else's husband, then it was none of Juliet's business.

“Does, uh...Kimberly mind you going undercover for long periods?”

Evan looked up from where he was putting the fruits and vegetables into the refrigerator. “We're not dating. As a matter of fact, I think you might be more her type than I am.”

Juliet just nodded, ignoring the fact that she suddenly loved everything about the town house again.

“Oh. Well, she did a great job in decorating. I love it here. Definitely not a bachelor death pad any longer.”

Evan stopped and looked at her for a long moment.

“What?” Juliet finally asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Get over here and let's cook dinner.”

Chapter Ten

All through the evening, as they cooked, ate and washed dishes, Evan tried to touch Juliet as much as he could. He stayed as close to her as possible, invading her space, even bumping her leg with his under the kitchen island as they ate dinner together.

She often shied away or flinched, and while something in Evan's soul shattered each time he saw those little reflexive reactions, he never brought it up. Talking about them wouldn't do any good.

It was time to change Juliet's basic muscle memory. Words weren't going to get her any more comfortable with being around him. Only being around him would do that.

Not that it was any hardship for Evan, being this close to Juliet. If he'd had his way he would've been this close to Juliet long before now. And would still be long after the case closed.

Yeah, this was forced intimacy rushed along for the sake of working undercover together. But Evan didn't mind at all. As a matter of fact, the closeness, the flirtation, just having her around felt totally right to him.

And her scent. Something about the smell of her hair—not fancy, just clean and fresh—made Evan want to keep her with him for about the next fifty years.

When she had commented on the decor and furniture changes he'd made in his house, Evan had come to an abrupt realization. All of it had been for her. Not consciously. He'd never once thought
oh
,
Juliet will like this
while he'd worked with Kimberly, picking out colors and furniture a year ago.

But now, having Juliet here, seeing how much she genuinely liked what he'd done with the place, he realized it had all been for her. He had wanted her to have a place where she felt comfortable. Where she felt safe.

His subconscious hadn't had any grander plans than that. He hadn't been thinking she might move in and live here. He'd just wanted it to be a place where she could visit, and not think of it as a bachelor death pad.

He hadn't been sure when she might ever come here. He'd just wanted to have it ready whenever she finally did.

Now they were sitting side by side on the couch in his newly decorated living room, looking over files from the case. Juliet reached for another folder, then kicked one shoe off and tucked her foot beneath her when she sat back down. That caused her to slide a little closer to him. But she didn't move away, almost didn't seem to notice the proximity.

Evan smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope for this plan, after all.

“I've been studying Cady and everything we know about him for the past two days,” she said. “He's a slippery bastard—has his fingers into everything. But honestly, I'm not sure his son, Christopher, isn't going to be more of a problem.”

“Christopher? I don't know much about him. He's in his early twenties, right?”

“Yes, and is just starting to become an important part of his father's business.”

“Why now?”

“We're not exactly sure. Intel suggests that he's been back in Vince's organization for only the last year.”

“Where was he before that?” Evan asked.

Juliet reached forward and threw the very thin file Omega had on Christopher Cady onto the table. When she sat back, she moved farther away from Evan, leaning on the arm of the couch. “No one knows. We can't get any official word or record. But evidently, he hasn't been living in his parents' house since he was seventeen.”

“But he's involved with his dad now?”

“Yes, for sure. Although he wasn't at the warehouse today.”

“Hmm.” Evan reached over and gently clasped the foot Juliet had tucked under her, drawing it onto his lap. He didn't want to give her a chance to begin withdrawing.

She looked at him sharply, then down at her foot, but didn't move away. “Word is that Christopher was in Europe. Cady has family over there. But nobody knows why he was living there instead of here.”

Her eyelids began to close almost automatically when Evan started rubbing her foot through her thin sock. He found a knot of tension in the arch and applied pressure there with his thumb. She let out a soft little moan.

“What are you doing?” Juliet asked. But Evan noticed she didn't pull her foot away.

“Just trying to get some of the tension out of your system, so you can think clearly. It's been a pretty stressful day for you.”

“But—”

“No buts, Jules. Just relax. And hand me your other foot while you're at it.”

Evan just kept rubbing her instep as Juliet thought it through. He could almost see the emotions play out on her face: pleasure, confusion, even consternation. But no real fear. Eventually, the pleasure won out. She kicked off her other shoe and stretched that foot out, too, then leaned back into the arm of the couch as he worked his magic. Her eyes drifted shut.

“It's okay to go to sleep. Like I said, you've had a hard day.”

“No, I'm not going to sleep. But I'll just rest here for a little while,” Juliet murmured.

Evan loved how she burrowed back into the cushions just a little. He kept firmly rubbing her feet and ankles, easing tension out as best he could.

Slowly, her legs became heavier in his hands as she let go of more and more of her control. Despite her protests she was falling asleep. Good, she needed it. It was late; they'd both had an exhausting day. Plus they had even more to do over the next forty-eight hours, including scoping out as much as they could of the Cady residence before going there for the auction.

Evan debated about whether to carry Juliet upstairs to his bed, but decided against it. She'd probably wake up when he tried to move her, and demand to go home. He didn't want to let her out of his sight, or touch, for as many hours as possible. He wanted her subconscious to become used to him being around.

And hell, he could admit it, at least to himself, that he wanted everything about Juliet to become used to him being there, not just her subconscious.

Evan gently shifted her feet off his lap. He got up and turned off the lights, except for the hallway one, which he left on so Juliet wouldn't feel disoriented if she woke in the middle of the night. He walked back over to the couch and looked down at her sleeping form. No fear or worry seemed to surround her now. She had rolled onto her side and tucked one arm under her head.

Evan removed his shoes, then eased himself into the space between her and the back cushions of the couch. She stirred but didn't wake up.

Evan longed to pull her against him, but knew she might feel restrained if she woke up with arms around her. But he had to put his arm somewhere, so rested it on her hip. Juliet relaxed back against him and Evan fell asleep thinking he'd rather be on this cramped couch with her than alone on the largest, most comfortable bed.

* * *

J
ULIET
WOKE
UP
with a start, unsure where she was. Not in her own home, that much she knew with certainty. Her back wasn't against the corner wall where she always slept in her house. Was she in her office?

Juliet wasn't in a panic. Odd. She couldn't remember the last time she'd woken up and wasn't in at least a little panic.

It didn't take long to remember where she was. Evan's house. In his wonderfully decorated living room, on his cozy couch.

And, based on the arm flung over her hip, Evan lay on the cozy couch with her.

Juliet waited in the dark for the fear to come. In the nest she had made for herself at home, the fear always came, stealing away any chance of falling back to sleep. Four or five hours of sleep had become the norm, although often she was able to take a nap on the sofa in her office.

But the fear wasn't coming now. Juliet relaxed slightly against Evan's sleeping form.

From where she lay, she could just see the window at the front of his town house. The sun was beginning to creep up. With a sense of shock, Juliet realized she had slept the entire night, not waking up once.

No nightmares. No screaming. No fighting nonexistent monsters in the darkness.

She shifted so she was lying on her back and could see Evan a little better in the dim light. He looked so relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. His brown hair fell slightly over his forehead. The growth on his cheeks was hours past a five o'clock shadow.

That tiny dimple was still there on his chin.

Juliet was amazed at how good it felt to just lie here. How right it felt. She wanted to stay here forever.

Beautiful hazel eyes slowly blinked open and looked at her. The smile that followed caused her heart to skip a beat.

“Hi,” Evan murmured, his voice deep with sleep.

Juliet just stared at him for a long moment. Evan had been a source of strength for so long, a good friend, but always something more than that. And here she was, lying in his arms, fear nowhere to be found.

She was so very tired of being afraid.

Juliet closed the small distance between their bodies and kissed him. She didn't let herself think about it, just let herself feel.

Then Evan kissed her back and all she could do was feel. He teased her lips apart and drew her closer, rolling onto his back so she was half lying on top of him. She felt one of his hands on her waist, the other cupping her neck to keep her close.

Juliet remembered their kiss in front of the lighthouse, how intense it had been. But she didn't remember this heat, this electricity, running through her. She just wanted to get closer to Evan, and stay here forever.

But after a long moment he eased back, then sat up, bringing her with him.

“Wow,” he murmured. He kept an arm around her and smiled at her tenderly.

“Yeah, wow,” Juliet echoed. But she didn't want to talk about how good the kiss was, she just wanted to kiss some more. She started to reach for him again, but stopped at his words.

“That sort of thing ought to definitely convince Vince Cady and his group that we're happily married.”

Her arm froze in midair, then dropped back to her side.

This was all just undercover practice for Evan, of course. Duh.

That hadn't been a real kiss for him, and especially hadn't been real emotion. It had just been practice for the roles they were playing. The heat had obviously been only one-sided.

“Yep.” Juliet popped the
p
, trying to sound casual. She slid away from him on the couch. “We're definitely getting closer to being ready.”

He pulled her back. “You're doing great, Jules.” She could feel him kiss the side of her head. “It's all going to work.”

Juliet thought of the drone override codes Cady planned to sell, and the damage those could do. Yeah, Evan was right to keep his focus on the job at hand. She needed to do the same.

And she needed to remember that nothing Evan did, despite how good it might make her feel, was real in any way. He wasn't attracted to her; this was the job.

Juliet's phone buzzed from the coffee table. She picked it up, cringing as she saw the screen. Lisa Sinclair had received another email.

Sweetheart, I'm so worried about you. You should be mine, no one else's. We'll be together soon.

Chapter Eleven

Evan watched as Juliet all but threw her phone across the table. She jumped off the couch as if it had burned her and walked over to the window.

“Everything okay? What happened?”

“Nothing. It's fine. Nothing.”

She was looking out the window, rubbing a fist against her stomach as if something inside hurt. And she wasn't just glancing out, she seemed to be looking for something or someone in particular.

Evan reached over and grabbed her phone to see if it held clues, but there was nothing on the screen.

He joined her at the window. The reflection showed her pinched expression. “It's obviously not nothing, Juliet. Are you looking for someone?” He peered out the window himself, but there was no one to be seen in the early dawn. The streets were empty.

Evan touched Juliet's shoulders, wanting to let her know that she wasn't alone in whatever was upsetting her, but she jerked away.

Damn it, were they back to square one?

He reached out again to rub her arm, but she shrugged him off and walked back to the couch.

“What's going on, Juliet? Seriously.”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I don't want to talk about it.”

His jaw clenched. “That's the problem, isn't it? You never want to talk about it. Never want to talk about anything, to let any of us in.”

Juliet didn't respond, just walked over to the gym bag she'd brought from the office. “I'm not ready to talk about stuff yet.” Her voice was soft as she rifled through the bag. She pulled out running shorts and a top, not looking at him. “I don't know if I'm ready for any of this, Evan.”

He rubbed a weary hand across his forehead. He didn't want to push, didn't want to lose all the progress that they'd made over the past few hours. And that kiss a few minutes ago—Evan couldn't even allow himself to think about that right now. He'd have to process it later.

“Okay, let's go for a run. Together. No talking necessary,” he told her.

He thought she might refuse, but then she nodded. “Okay.”

They were out the door just a few minutes later, headed toward a local park. Juliet had no problem keeping up with the pace Evan set, even given her shorter stride, further testament of what good shape she'd kept herself in. Her brain might not quite be ready for her to resume an active agent position, but the same couldn't be said for her body.

They jogged around and through the park without talking, Juliet obviously not interested in sharing what was on her mind. Evan wished he could tell her that no matter how fast or how far she ran, the demons she tried to leave behind would still be there when she stopped. You couldn't outrun your demons.

You had to face them. Maybe it was time to help her do that.

They reached a large fountain in the middle of the park and Evan stopped, rather abruptly. Juliet looked over at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he told her between breaths. They were both sweating and breathing hard. They had kept up a strong pace for at least five or six miles. “I want you to close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it, okay, Jules? For me.”

Juliet shook her head, but closed her eyes as he asked.

Evan looked around the park, now much more active, since it wasn't so early.

“Okay, without looking, I want you to tell me what's going on around here.”

“What?” Juliet's tone was uncertain, her eyebrows squished together over her closed eyes.

“What's happening in this park right now? If you had to describe it to someone, what would you say?”

Juliet shook her head, obviously thinking he had lost it, but took a deep breath through her nose and blew it out of her mouth.

“A mother with two toddlers at the southwest corner, heading toward the playground. Another woman with a stroller coming in from the other direction. Male Caucasian runner, age thirty-five to forty-five, dark hair, six foot one, 170 pounds, running counterclockwise on the inner loop. Blonde female speed walking with German shepherd on inner loop, probably five foot three, 150 pounds. African-American couple, early twenties, strolling together five hundred yards from the fountain. Drinking coffee from nearby coffeehouse—”

“That's fine.” Evan chuckled. “You can open your eyes. I think you proved my point.”

“And what the heck was that?” Juliet asked as she opened her eyes and looked around, obviously checking to see what she had missed.

Which was nothing.

“Your brain saw and processed everything, Jules. Even though you were running at a hard pace and there was no reason to keep track of what was going on, your brain still did it automatically.”

“So?”

“So? Your body still works like an agent and so does your mind. Your situational awareness is off the charts. Only your fears are holding you back.” Evan prayed he wasn't pushing her further away from him. “I'm not saying you should just get over what happened. I'm just saying I think you can move forward.”

Juliet looked around the park again, then stared at him for a long time. At first he thought she was going to argue, but she didn't. She looked down at the phone she held in her hand, then back up at him, her expression resolved.

“Okay, Evan, you want the truth about my fears? We're not far from my house. Let's go there.”

* * *

E
VAN
WASN
'
T
SURE
what her house had to do with her fears, but jogged the mile or so to her place, slowing down and walking the last few blocks with her. He hadn't been here since the attack, although he had hung out here all the time with her brothers before that.

Juliet hadn't wanted to go to any of their bachelor death pads, so she'd had them over to her place when they wanted to eat or hang out or watch a movie. Her space was smaller, but it was always clean and inviting, and most importantly, usually had real food.

As Juliet let Evan in, using a key she had kept in her running belt, shock reverberated through him. Even from just inside the door, he couldn't believe this was the same place. He blinked rapidly as if the scene before him might change to what it was supposed to be—a light, airy, friendly house.

Not the hovel that stood before him.

The chic wooden blinds that used to cover the windows had been replaced by heavy curtains that obviously hadn't been opened in months. Barely any illumination from the sun made it through, casting the entire place in an eerie light. Every flat surface was piled with papers and files and
stuff
, not to mention layers of dust. There was nowhere to sit even if you wanted to.

Obviously, Juliet hadn't done any entertaining in her house recently. It looked as if she hadn't even been here herself. Had she moved somewhere else and left her furniture behind?

But when Evan turned and looked into the kitchen, which was located across the small foyer from her living room, he realized that wasn't the case. The kitchen was in slightly better shape. No food was left out, and dishes were washed and sitting on the drying rack, but there were newspapers and books stacked on the small table. Obviously, she did use this kitchen, but evidently ate while standing at the counter.

Evan scrambled to understand what he was seeing. Juliet said nothing and closed the door they'd just walked through. And then began locking the most locks Evan had ever seen at a single entrance.

There were at least a half dozen that bolted her door into the wall. He watched with an aching chest as she rapidly clicked each lock into place—a testament of how often she did it.

Yes, Juliet did live here, in this house, in its current state. But you couldn't call it her home. You couldn't have called this
anybody's
home.

Juliet still didn't speak, just walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle for each of them, then headed down the hall into one of the two bedrooms. Not hers, but the room she'd made into her home office.

This room was obviously used often. Her desk, complete with lamp and computer, was like her office at Omega: meticulous and clean, the exact opposite state of her living room. No dust, no piles of junk. At the other end was a small couch, a pillow and blanket thrown over it.

Juliet pointed to the couch. “I sleep there every once in a while.”

Evan supposed that sleeping some nights on a couch might not be unusual for a person who had been through what she had. Heaven knew, he had his own nightmares about that day. He imagined Juliet's were much worse, since she had lived through it.

“Nobody can blame you for having bad nights, Jules. Sleeping on the couch every once in a while happens to everyone.”

She studied him for a moment, then crossed into her master bedroom, motioning for him to follow. There were heavy drapes over the window in here, also, allowing in very little light. Her queen-size bed, with its beautiful four posters—Evan remembered how delighted Juliet had been when she'd found it at a secondhand store about five years ago—obviously hadn't been slept in for months, maybe longer. Like the kitchen table and furniture in the living room, it was covered with stuff: jackets, boxes, papers.

But Evan was totally unprepared when Juliet pulled open the door to her walk-in closet and pointed down at the floor—to a makeshift bed of a couple blankets and a pillow. Next to it lay a rifle—a .308 Winchester, it looked like—and a Glock G42, similar to the handgun Juliet used as an agent.

“That's where I sleep—
attempt
to sleep—almost all the time. I haven't slept in a bed since the attack.”

She turned and walked out of the closet and her bedroom. Evan remained, staring at the pitiful pallet that spoke volumes about Juliet's solitude and fear.

He'd had no idea. None of them had known Juliet was struggling to such a degree. All of them knew she spent a lot of time at work and hadn't been home much. Looking around now, Evan could see why. No one would want to spend much time here. And obviously, a lot of the time she spent here was in fear.

Evan's heart broke just thinking about it. But anger wasn't far behind.

He followed her into the kitchen, where she leaned against the sink.

“So, obviously, I'm not fit for duty. You know I've been talking to therapists for months, all different types, but never seem to mention this.” Juliet laughed nervously and gestured with her hand. “This is barely a step up from that reality show about hoarding. Criminals probably wish I would become an agent again, because obviously, I'm damaged beyond—”

Evan pulled her into his arms. He didn't care if the movement might startle her or make her tense. He just wanted her to know she wasn't alone. Not anymore.

By God, never again would she have to go through any of this alone. If she wasn't getting better, then Evan, not to mention her brothers, would help her. In any way she needed, whatever way she needed.

“Jules, why didn't you tell us?” Evan whispered against her hair, glad that she didn't try to pull away. “We all knew you didn't like to be touched, but none of us knew you were struggling so much here at home.” Evan couldn't wrap his head around it.

“I didn't know what to say.”

“None of us expect you to just get over what happened, but hasn't it gotten any better at all? This place...” Evan glanced into the living room. “It's like you're waiting for another attack.”

“That's what I feel like whenever I'm here. Like I'm not safe.” Juliet removed herself from his arms and pointed at the locks. “Although it would seem impossible with all that.”

“Jules, why are you still so afraid? The man who attacked and raped you is dead. His accomplice is in federal prison. Neither of them can hurt you anymore.”

“Somebody is still out there, Evan.”

Evan ran a weary hand over his forehead and eyes. This was so much worse than he'd thought. If Juliet was still this scared after eighteen months, and thought someone was after her, then the psychological scarring must be much deeper. She was definitely not ready to go back undercover. He would need to cancel the mission and find another way to get the drone codes from Cady.

Because honestly, Evan was worried for Juliet's very sanity.

How had he not seen this? How had they all been so blind to what Juliet was really going through? She should have been getting better, not worse. And now, thinking someone was after her when it was impossible...

Evan walked toward where she stood in the middle of the room, moving slowly, as if she were a wild animal he didn't want to spook. “Juliet, there's nobody who can hurt you anymore. There hasn't been since the arrest. You don't need to be afraid of that.”

She looked torn between wanting to accept his embrace and argue the point further, but then froze when her phone chirped. The same sound it had made this morning.

Evan watched all the color leak from Juliet's face as she stared at the device.

“That's the reason I know someone is still out there, still after me. He's been sending me—well, Lisa Sinclair—messages for nearly a year.”