The Makeover Mission (33 page)

Damn the man.

When he raised his head, his gaze impaling hers, he smiled, a
knowing, warrior's smile.

"My part in this whole mess was inexcusable."

Understatement.

"And I made some mistakes."

Big-time.

"But I'm not the only one."

What?

As if he'd read her unspoken thought, he replied. "You said
you loved me, Jane. Love means trust. You should have trusted that I'd never
have done anything to hurt you."

He knew he'd caught her off guard. It was intentional. He'd take
any advantage he could get to win her back. He had, too. She was his life. Her
kiss gave him hope and he clung to it as he'd clung to his sanity the last
weeks. The ones without her. The ones where he didn't know how she was, if
she'd forgiven him. Communication had been impossible until Elena and Eustace
were both safely behind bars and the new king installed.

But now he was here and she was in his arms. At last.

"Jane?"

"The news said Elena and Eustace were arrested."

"I didn't come to talk about Vendari." The words sounded
blunt, harsh, almost desperate.

"Well." He could see her trying to emotionally distance
herself. Pull away from him. "That doesn't leave much for us to
discuss."

He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Never had he expected it to be
this hard. Where was the Jane who put herself out to be kind to total
strangers, the one who faced an impossible situation head-on, the one who'd
told him she loved him? The woman before him looked like her, but held herself
still and distant.

She was killing him by the second and didn't seem to care. Not
that he deserved more. Not after what he'd done to her.

"If it will make a difference I'll apologize to you."
The words felt like sandpaper rasping along his throat.

"For?" Her arched brow reminded him of the other Elena,
then he remembered there was only one Elena. And one Jane.

"Do you want me to start at the top of the list or just hit
the highlights?" His own voice sounded testy, frustrated.

She tried to pull out of his grasp but he wouldn't let her. The
roses fell to the floor.

"Isn't it a bit pointless to discuss any of this?" she
sliced at him with her cool tone. "You did what you had to do. You
obviously accomplished your mission or you wouldn't be here."

"I hurt you." More than he ever wanted. It kept him
awake at night. Kept him from finding any semblance of peace. "I never
meant to hurt you. It happened, but it didn't mean I wanted it to happen."

"I know." The words fell like ice crystals—splintered
facets of fragility waiting to dissolve.

She knew? But wouldn't forgive him?

He almost gave up right then and there, until he noticed her
hands. Maybe by instinct, or desperation, he glanced at her hands and felt the
first inkling of hope since he'd seen her. Her words might be overly calm and
aloof, but her hands, pleating the plain fabric of her skirt, were anything
but.

He pulled her closer, willing her to look at him.

"There's something else I needed to tell you." He saw
her brace herself as if for a blow and wondered if he was doing the right
thing. But if he never once said the words, never once took the risk, neither
one of them would ever know what might have been. "I want us to be
together, Jane. To start fresh, with the past behind us."

Jane had thought she couldn't hurt anymore, couldn't feel through
the numbness that had encased her since she had awakened on a private jet—alone
except for one of Lucius's faithful team members who gave her no more
information than that she was on her way back home and the effects of the drug
given her to make her appear dead would wear off after a few hours.

Well, they hadn't. The coldness had remained. The sensation of
things not being quite real had persisted. The feeling of utter hopelessness
had weighed down upon her until she had wanted to break with the bending. Until
now.

"Don't." She held her hands before her as if to ward off
a physical attack. "Just don't…"

His features looked as anguished as she felt. But that wasn't
possible. He'd made his choices months ago.

"You lied to me." She hated that it sounded like a
whimper, but she knew she couldn't survive hope again. "You used me and
let me believe I was going to die."

"I know. I know. Every day I've gone over and over what other
options I had available. What else I could have done."

"You knew it was Elena behind the attacks."

"I guessed Eustace was involved. But I knew there had to be
someone else. When Elena walked through the door so much finally made sense.
But all the time I was hoping to get you away before I had to resort to using
the drug."

"Why didn't you let me know?"

"If I had let you know you would never have been as
convincing as you were." His words fell like leaden weights. "Elena
had to believe you were dead. That I would kill you or she would have done it
herself. I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk you."

She stepped back. This time he released her, letting his arms fall
to his sides. Why was he forcing all the pain she'd begun to bury back to the
surface? Why couldn't she just hate him and be done with it?

"Jane?" The word sounded like a plea. But this man was
not the one who had begged for his life. She was. "You've got to
understand that deceiving you, hurting you that way was the hardest thing I've
ever done in my life."

Hadn't she known that even then? Known that if he killed her he'd
also be killing a part of himself? She'd worried about it then, when she was
facing death, but she hadn't thought what acting as if he'd killed her would
have cost him. Was costing him if she gauged the deepness of the creases around
his eyes, the tension radiating from his body. Is that what he'd meant in
saying that if she'd loved him she should have trusted him? Trusted her own
realization that he'd never hurt her?

She hadn't let herself see beyond her own feelings of betrayal, of
pain, to think that he, too, might be hurting.

Suddenly she felt too tired to deal with any of it. She was on her
home turf now. Safe. Secure. Boring, yes, but the intrigues that surfaced at
the library involved abusing break time or petty insults exchanged, not lives
lost and hearts broken.

She'd had a choice once. Not much of one, but he had given her a
choice. Now she had another one. Stay in her safe, sane world, or step out on
an impossibly shaky limb with Lucius McConneghy.

"Does it make any difference what you did and why?" she
said at last.

The words hung between them until he stepped forward, his hands
shoved into his pockets, his expression as intense as it had been on the night
they'd first made love. "Yes. It does make a difference. It can—if you'll
let it."

"Have you forgotten that I'm still a Sioux Falls librarian
and you're from an obscure department in an obscure corner of the
Pentagon?"

"Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I quit."

He was doing it all over again, tilting her world on end, one
sentence at a time.

She looked at him, really looked at him, wondering if she'd heard
him quite right. "What do you mean you quit?"

"I mean I turned in my letter of resignation, cleaned out my
desk drawers and walked away."

"Why?"

It was his turn to stare at her, his features softening, the
smallest of smiles touching his lips. "I didn't want to make my wife a
widow. I didn't want her to deal with the McConneghy tradition even for one
day."

"Your wife?" She knew she sounded addle-brained but that
wasn't unusual around him.

"I assumed you'd want to get married." He gave a small
shrug. "Though I'd be willing to live together. At least until our
firstborn is due to arrive. Which I hope happens as soon as we can make it
happen."

"Our firstborn?" Now she was downright stuttering.

"Of course." He stepped beside her, reaching out to pull
her to him again. "I always thought three was a good number but we can
have more or less if you want."

"This isn't real." She could only stare up into those
gray eyes she'd once thought cold. "You're not real. I don't know why
you're doing this but I want you to stop."

"Not until you say yes." He shook her, ever so gently,
as if wakening her from a long sleep. "I want you in my life, Jane. I need
you in my life."

"But…"

"But?"

The old Jane might have buckled. Taken what he was offering and
been happy. But it wasn't enough. Not anymore. Plain, ordinary, everyday Jane
she wasn't. Not anymore.

"It's not enough," she said, shaking her head.

He looked stunned, but she held her ground. This was too important
to give up on. Way too important.

Suddenly he grinned and his voice sounded raw with emotion.
"I love you, Jane. I love you until I ache with it. You are the best thing
that's ever come into my life and I hurt you. I won't ever forgive myself for
that. For what I put you through. But I still think we have a chance. If you'll
let us."

Did she dare trust him? Trust his words?

"I love you, Jane Richards. Only you." He said it with
the solemnity of a vow and she could feel her heart begin to beat again.
"I'll always love you. I want to build a life with you, a good life, with
children and cats and dogs and gray hairs and rocking chairs."

She thought he meant it.

He wrapped her in his arms as if afraid she'd bolt. She could hear
the beat of his heart beneath her cheek, inhale the scent that was only his.
"You're the strongest, bravest, most giving woman I've ever met."

Was he talking about her?

"You're beautiful and kind, your smile lights all the corners
of a room and your kisses make my knees weak."

He thought of
her
like that?

"I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep
next to you every night."

"And you want to get married?"

"As soon as we can."

It was true then. It really was. She wanted to pinch herself to
make sure it was real.

She heard the sound of laughter and hand-clapping coming from
behind the nearest stack of books.

"You go, girlfriend," Marion shouted. Followed by Sue.
"This is so much more romantic than some dumb princess in some faraway
place."

Jane simply looked up into gray eyes. Loving, caring, smiling gray
eyes.

"Friends of yours?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then we'd better ask them to the wedding."

He didn't wait for a response. But she heard more clapping erupt
as he bent to kiss her.

Then she knew it was real and that it would last a lifetime.

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