Lindsay McKenna - Woman Of Innocence

Foster mother? Matt scowled at how nervous Jenny was now. He saw the worry in her eyes, and the way the corners of her soft, delicious mouth pulled in. “I don’t know much about astrology,” he admitted.

“You’re a Scorpio!” She blurted the words before she could stop herself. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she gazed at him wide-eyed as he tilted his head and regarded her in the silence.

“You got my birthdate from my personnel record?”

She nodded, her stomach sinking.

“I see.”

Allowing her hand to drop from her lips, she said in a breathless tone, “Don’t worry. The information won’t go anywhere. I know Scorpio people want their privacy. And they don’t like people who talk about them to other people, either. They’re very, very intense. Very focused. That’s why you’re so good at being a merc. You’re a natural warrior. You know how to gauge people. Your perceptions are rarely wrong, either.”

“I’m impressed. You almost make me sound like a good guy.” He saw her frown and then shift restlessly in the leather seat. “So what about yourself? How about your growing-up years? Where were you born?”

Jenny’s mouth quirked. Her stomach tightened. She knew Matt had come from a very prestigious and rich family. He’d been at the Naval Academy and finished in the top five percent of his class. He’d earned medals as a SEAL during the Gulf War. He’d been the head of his team until he’d quit to come and work for Perseus. She also knew, from the personal history in his file, that his parents had been married for over thirty years: the Davises were a happy family, no doubt. Matt had an older sister, a medical doctor who had graduated from Princeton University with honors. Jenny’s hands hands fluttered helplessly as she answered his question. “I was born in Medford, Oregon.”

“Oregon’s a nice place. I’ve often fished for trout up in the Cascade Mountains above that little town.” Somehow, Matt found himself wanting to alleviate the tension around her lovely mouth and erase the fear from her eyes. “Did you ever go fishing in Klamath Lake, which is near there? Or fish for steelhead trout on the Rogue River?”

She shook her head and looked out the plane window. The sky was a bright blue, with high, filmy cirrus clouds. “Uh, no…”

“Not a fisherperson?” he teased. She refused to look at him. Now her hands were clenched, white-knuckled, in the lap of her dark purple skirt.

Softly, she answered, “No…I don’t like hurting anything. It pains me to even think of putting a sharp hook into a poor, defenseless little worm. It has no way of protecting itself from us…what we might do to it. Humans are a lot stronger, and sometimes brutal….”

Matt scowled. He heard a lot of pain in Jenny’s voice. In fact, he could barely hear her, her voice had gone so soft. Her face had drained of color and she was pale. Very pale. And now she was sitting very, very still. His gut crawled with trepidation. Realizing he was stepping into very raw territory regarding her personal life, he said in a rasping tone, “Don’t mind me. Sometimes I’m like a damn bull in a china shop. I don’t know when to stop asking questions. My ex-wife will confirm my dazzling skills in that regard.”

Turning her head, she met and held his stormy eyes. Once again, Jenny was seeing him without that armorlike mask in place. Now he was searching and unsure of himself. She’d never have thought anything could rattle the heroic Matt Davis, decorated navy hero. Especially something she said. Her. A mouse. A ordinary person who had never accomplished anything of note in life. Except to be a great assistant to Morgan Trayhern. And she had also gotten a degree in psychology. She was proud of that accomplishment, too. But it wasn’t the same as saving lives, like Matt did.

“My life,” Jenny began quietly, “isn’t anything to write home about.” Shrugging, she opened her hands and said, “I was taken from my mother, who was a crack addict, when I was born. She died when I was a year old. I don’t really remember anything about her…. I was turned over to the state, and over the next eighteen years, I went through five foster homes.” She saw his brows gather grimly. And she saw sympathy reflected in his eyes. Heartened that he wasn’t going to make fun of her, or tell her that she was less worthy in his view, she added, “I guess maybe that’s why I went into psychology—to try and understand myself. I was hyperactive in kindergarten. I couldn’t sit still. I disrupted the class. They said it was because my mother was a drug addict. But I never touched drugs—never wanted to. After I left my last foster home, I went to Bryn Mawr and worked to get a degree. I had to do something to prove to myself I wasn’t totally a worthless human being.”

She tapped her head. “I still have ADD—attention deficit disorder. When I was a kid they tried to drug me up to my eyeballs, in an attempt to calm me down. I just have a different way of working and thinking than most people. I thought becoming a psychologist would help me…to try and figure out who I am…or what I could be…. Oh, I know I’m a scaredy-cat. I screech if I see a spider…or a snake.” Jenny shivered, placed her arms around herself and made a face. “I really do leap up on a chair if I see a mouse. I’m such a coward. After all, I’m much bigger than any tiny little mouse or teeny spider or other creepy-crawly.” She sighed sadly. “I’m such a mess.”

“There’re plenty of people who’ve come from broken homes,” Matt said. “And they go on to make something of themselves in life. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jenny. You weren’t the drug addict, your mother was. You were the innocent in all this.” Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently stroked her small, slumped shoulders.

Matt’s touch was magical. As his strong fingers moved across her tightly knotted shoulders, she closed her eyes. His touch was healing. She felt the warmth of his hand, the strength, but also the tenderness of his touch. Amazed that such a large man could be so gentle, she released a long, pent-up sigh. Opening her eyes as his hand lifted away, she managed a sliver of a smile.

“You’re being very kind. Thank you. I know you don’t have to be. You’re a hero ten times over. You don’t have to put up with little people, like myself.” Her mouth quirked and she avoided his gaze. “I’m sure you didn’t want this mission with me. Oh, not that anyone’s said anything….” Jenny lifted her hands. “You’re probably doing this because Morgan asked you to. I know how he sometimes puts pressure on a merc, to get them to team with someone they’ve never worked with before.”

Just the flittery look in Jenny’s narrowed blue eyes made Matt’s heart wrench. “Whoa!” he murmured. “Slow down, will you?”

“I know…I talk a mile a minute. It’s that Gemini moon of mine. We Geminis blather all the time. People like me don’t know when to shut up.”

“I’m interested in what you’re saying, but you’re running along at Mach 3 with your hair on fire, and I can’t get a question in edgewise.”

Laughing, Jenny nodded. “Fair enough. Okay, I’ll shut up and you ask what you want.” She couldn’t believe that he didn’t think less of her because of her background.

As Matt sat up, the look in his eyes set her heart palpitating for no reason. Maybe it was his unexpected touch. She would never forget that wonderful feeling of his hand sliding across her shoulders. Even now her flesh tingled.

Looking down and studying her questions more thoroughly, he murmured, “For someone who has ADD, you’ve done a very nice, disciplined and thoughtful job creating these questions. Looking at your work, I wouldn’t ever think you had attention problems.”