Ginna Gray - The Prime Objective

“Hey, take it easy, Mick. Don’t go borrowing trouble. One thing we know for sure is, they haven’t found her yet. Those guys back there were half expecting her to be with you.”

“That’s true. But all the same, I’m really worried about her, Jack. She’s so timid. She’s not used to fending for herself or being on her own.”

“Take it easy. Colleen may be a gentle soul but she’s smart—just like all you Mahaffey women. We’ll find her. And when we do we’ll get to the bottom of this and straighten everything out.”

Kate put her head back on the neck-protector and closed her eyes, willing her taut muscles to relax. “I hope you’re right.” She turned her head on the rest and looked at Jack’s strong profile. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, okay? I’m glad you got in touch with me. It’s been a long time.”

The gaze he turned on her held a world of unspoken thoughts and guarded emotions. Kate knew that he was thinking about the last time he had heard from her, but he returned his gaze to the highway and fell silent.

Tension began to creep back into her muscles. She knew Jack. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment, but sooner or later he would bring up the subject of their divorce and demand some answers. She had known that would happen when she’d sent him that message.

Kate turned her head and gazed out the side window at nothing, her jaw clenched. She owed him an explanation. She knew that. But the last thing she wanted, especially now, was to dissect their marriage and explain her actions to Jack. Doing so would serve no purpose other than to stir up bitter feelings. Their marriage was finished and she’d moved on. She assumed that Jack had done the same.

He’d certainly honored her request that he stay away from her, something she hadn’t really expected he would do.

A tiny frown creased her forehead. How, she wondered, had he known about Uncle Quincy and Aunt Rose’s deaths? She had no doubt that Jack had been working in some armpit country halfway around the world at the time, yet after each death she and Colleen had received flowers and cards from him.

At the traffic signal at the junction of the Loop and the Tyler highway Jack turned left, and for the first time since leaving the woods Kate took note of the landscape on either side of the highway. Her frown returned. “Where are we going? If we’re going to find out anything we have to go back to Houston.”

“And we will. But except for catnaps on government planes, I haven’t slept in over two days.” He shot her a dry look. “And frankly, Mick, from the look of you, I’d say you haven’t, either. And since I don’t want to risk overtaking those two goons on the highway, we’re going to get a hotel room here in Palestine and get some rest, then head for Houston tomorrow.”

“A room? Oh, I don’t think so. If you think I’m sharing a bed with you, Jackson Prime, forget it.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“True. But we’re not married anymore.”

“That wasn’t my choice.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, lighten up, Kate. You’re safe. I’m too tired to seduce you tonight. I’ll get us a room with two beds.”

“But—”

“Sorry. That’s the best I can do. No way am I letting you out of my sight until this is over.”

“But…shouldn’t we start trying to find Colleen?”

“Sweetie, everyone needs to sleep now and then. Even bad guys. This way we’ll start fresh in the morning.”

Kate knew he was right. God knew, she was exhausted, and certainly Jack was after traveling halfway around the world through several time zones. He had to be suffering major jet lag. Still, the need to find her sister ate at her. She doubted she would sleep a wink for worrying.

The hotel that Jack chose was a worldwide, moderately priced chain, but it was the newest and nicest hotel in Palestine.

The instant they entered the room Kate claimed dibs on the shower and disappeared into the bathroom with her duffel bag.

With his hands hooked over his lean hipbones, Jack stared at the closed door with a hint of amusement on his angular face. You can run, sweetheart, but you won’t escape. Our time of reckoning has arrived.

After removing what he needed, he hung his weekender bag in the cubbyhole of a closet, double-checked all the locks on the doors and windows, then stretched out on one of the beds to wait, ankles crossed, fingers laced beneath his head.

About a half hour later the bathroom door opened and Kate emerged in a roiling cloud of steam, redolent with the scents of soap, shampoo, toothpaste and sweet, clean woman. A halo of wet ringlets framed her scrubbed face and she wore a knee-length, long-sleeved, flannel nightshirt.

Nice try, Mick, Jack thought, biting back a grin. He had no doubt that she was going for dowdy and nonsexual, but she looked adorable.

“It’s all yours,” she announced.

Jack rolled to his feet, grabbed his toiletry kit and headed for the bathroom. At the door he stopped and looked back at her. “I won’t be long. When I’m done we still have some talking to do.”

The flash of panic in her eyes told him that she knew exactly what the subject would be. Regaining control quickly, she nodded and murmured, “All right.”

Jack was tempted to linger under the cold spray. He had barely slept for two days, he was tired, every muscle in his body ached and to top it all off it had been ages since he’d enjoyed the luxury of an American shower. But he’d waited a long time for this showdown with Kate.

In just under ten minutes he stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his wet hair with a small towel and a bath sheet wrapped around his middle…and found his ex-wife curled into a ball on the bed, sleeping like a baby.

Jack stood beside the bed and watched her, frustrated and disappointed. And enchanted.

It was a compliment, he supposed, that she felt safe enough with him that she could relax and give in to sleep, which she obviously hadn’t done in days.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and ran the end of his forefinger along the tips of her eyelashes, which lay fanned out on her cheeks. Then he touched the spattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Kate didn’t so much as twitch.

Finally, heaving a sigh, Jack rolled her to the center of the queen-size bed, pulled back the covers, then scooped her up and tucked her in between the sheets and pulled the covers back up to her shoulders. With a wry smile tugging at his mouth, he smoothed her damp curls off of her forehead.

“You win this round, Mick. But our reckoning is coming.”

Kate made a sleepy sound and burrowed her face into the pillow.

A sliver of morning sunlight sliced through the gap in the black-out drapes and drew a line across the bed where Kate slept. Slouched in a chair, Jack sat in the shadows, watching her.

Funny how merely looking at her made him happy, he mused. Being near her made him feel…whole, somehow. Alive. As though she filled an aching empty place in his soul.

She’d had that effect on him from the beginning.

Remembering that first encounter, the barest hint of a smile flickered over Jack’s mouth. In his early twenties he’d been restless and craving adventure and had wanted to see the world, footloose and fancy free. With that goal in mind he’d made the decision never to marry. Joining the agency after college had cemented that choice.

Then, four years later, he’d met Kate.

From the moment he first saw her he’d been drawn to her like metal shavings to a magnet. They had been at a party at the Houston home of a mutual friend, and from all the way across the room he’d noticed that she seemed to glow from within with a vitality that was irresistible.