Now, watching him across the room, cool, remote, businesslike, she decided she was worrying too much. In just over a week, the court case would start. After that, presumably Declan would no longer need protection. And there would be no reason for them to ever see each other again.
She hated the shaft of pain that pierced her at the thought.
Looking away, her gaze clashed with Jake, who watched her, his brows drawn together as though he were picking away at a particularly interesting puzzle.
They were in a meeting, this time in Jake's office. Jake had wanted to meet their newest client. No doubt he'd been listening to office gossip.
The two men had sized each other up, then shook hands, one of those testosterone-fueled handshakes that always looked like they'd result in broken fingers. But she got the feeling that Jake respected Declan, and it took a lot to impress her boss.
Dave and Steve were also present. The guys were all seated, but Jess was too restless and she paced the room, listening while Jake outlined a plan for drawing out Declan's attackers. For the first time, it occurred to her that there was actually danger involved. That there was a small chance they would get to Declan, maybe hurt him, even kill him. These guys were serious. Something unexpected and almost unidentifiable twisted inside her.
She was afraid. Not the adrenaline-inducing fear of the bungee jump, but something much darker. Plonking herself down on the edge of the sofa, she tried to get a grip on her fear.
"You okay, Jess?" Jake asked.
She rubbed the spot above the bridge of her nose as she thought about her answer. She suspected the correct response was "no." She was pretty sure she was not okay. Instead, she tried to give a casual shrug. "Just having second thoughts. I'm not sure we should be playing around with these guys."
"And have you an alternate suggestion?" Jake asked.
"Up the security. Keep him safe until after the court case."
Jake turned to Declan. "How do you feel about all this? Are you okay to go ahead?"
Something flashed across his face and then was gone. He shrugged. "Whatever you think best."
Did he want this over with? Including her? A week ago, she would have said yes. Now she wasn't so sure. "We go ahead then."
Declan rose to his feet. "Will you walk me out?" he said to her.
She followed him out of the room, eyes glued to his very impressive ass. At the elevator she pressed the button for the ground floor and gestured for him to enter.
"You don't need to worry about me," he said as the doors closed behind them.
She shrugged again. "It won't do the firm's reputation any good if we lose a client. Especially now, when Jake's stepping down. So I'd prefer it if you didn't get yourself killed."
He leaned back against the wall of the elevator. "Maybe I should get a gun."
"I don't think so." She shuddered. Clients with guns were not on top of her things-I-want list. "Can you shoot?"
"Never tried. Never even held a gun."
"Never? Really?" She considered him for a moment. "You want to?" Was she just looking for an excuse to keep him here? Probably. But what the hell. "Or have you got an important meeting to go to? You look like you have an important meeting." He was dressed in a sharp charcoal-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and dark red tie and looked the perfect executive. Except for maybe the restlessness in his silver-gray eyes. It occurred to her that maybe he wasn't happy with his perfect life.
When they'd been teenagers, she'd always known that under the controlled exterior had lurked a wild boy. It was what had drawn her to him. What had pushed her to get a reaction from him. She'd believed when they met again, that the wild boy was entirely eradicated beneath the perfect veneer of sophistication. But he wasn't gone entirely. He might show a perfect front to the world, but beneath the glossy facade there was a volcano waiting to explode. There always had been. Her question was did Declan have more or less control now than he'd had ten years ago?
But why should she care.
He studied her for a moment. Then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial. "Paul? Cancel my meetings this morning. Something's come up." He closed the call before the other man could speak and turned back to her.
Heat coiled in her belly, and her heart rate picked up. Leaning across him, she pressed the button for the basement.
It was quiet down on the lower level. There were a lot of cases at the moment and most of the operatives were out on assignment. At the far end of the corridor, she punched in the code for the shooting range, then pressed her thumb to the pad. The door clicked open. Jake had contacts that facilitated them getting the licenses for their firearms, but there were strict rules for their storage.
The room was big, but narrow, and the longer side ran along the whole depth of the building. It consisted of a counter that spanned this end of the room, and then the room was split into three alleys. She paused just inside the door, glanced at him, then turned back and locked it behind them. Declan's eyebrows rose, but he didn't say anything as she led him to the gun safe at the far corner of the room, and again input the code and pressed her thumb to the pad. Declan shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the counter and rolled up his sleeves.
She selected a Sig Pro 9mm-one of her favorites-and a magazine. She turned and handed it to Declan, minus the bullets.
"It's not very big," he murmured. The weapon did look small in his large hand.
"It's big enough." She took the gun from him. "You need to insert the magazine, like so. Then to load the chamber you pull back the slide, like this"-she demonstrated-"and release it. Easy. Here you go."
After removing the magazine and bullet, she handed the gun and ammunition to Declan. He slotted the magazine, chambered the bullet. "Now what?"
"Take out the bullets. We'll have a go without them first."
She stood behind him, stepping up close so she could feel the heat of his skin though his clothes. "Now," she said, "grip your pistol firm in both hands, but keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot." Her hands rested on his upper arms, steadying him, and a prickle of awareness ran through her.
"Your feet should be shoulder-width apart." Jess slipped a leg between his and nudged them apart. "Stretch out your arms, and lean slightly forward, but stay balanced. Now take a deep breath, exhale halfway, hold it, and squeeze the trigger."
He squeezed, the pistol made a slight clicking noise.
"Okay, let's try it with bullets. Load up."
Declan took the magazine from her and reloaded competently while she pressed a button. Halfway down the room, a target swung into position. Jess stepped to the side this time, leaving him alone, and he took up the stance she had shown him, arms outstretched, feet apart. He closed one eye, sighted down the line of the pistol, took a deep breath, and squeezed.
He was good. A natural. Most people jumped a mile when they first felt the recoil, but he stood easy and relaxed. He hadn't hit the center of the target though, which made her feel slightly better and brought a frown to his face. She was guessing Declan liked to do everything perfectly
"Again," she said. He was slightly better this time but still failed to hit the center.
Jess took the gun from his hand, spun round, and shot a bullet into the center of the target without even aiming.
"Show-off," he muttered.
She gave him back the gun. "Once more." She moved back behind him, rested her hands lightly on his hips, turning him slightly. "Focus on the target. Clear your mind of everything else."
"That's a little hard with your hands all over me." But this time he hit the target right in the center.
She still had her hands on his hips and she squeezed. "Put the gun down, Declan."
A subtle tension ran through his body, but he removed the magazine from the pistol and rested them gently on the counter. He didn't turn, just stood, hands loose at his side. Jess stepped up closer until she was pressed against the length of his back. She slid her hands around from where they rested on his hips to his groin.
"Jesus."
"Just checking if anything else has come up," she murmured. He was becoming hard beneath her palm and heat sank through her body, pooling in her belly, then lower, so her sex tingled and an insistent pulse set up between her thighs.
She needed this.
She tugged his shirt out of his pants, then flicked open the button and lowered the zipper. Pushing her hands inside, she found him hot and hard. She wrapped her fingers around the steely length and squeezed.
He did move then. Grasping her wrist, he tugged her hand out from inside his pants, then turned around, lowered his head, and kissed her. Deep, wet kisses that filled her mouth and made her breasts ache.
With his hands gripping her hips, he picked her up and placed her on the counter without ever breaking the kiss. She was gasping for air now, need filling her as he nudged open her thighs. She tore open his shirt, buttons flying across the room, but she had to touch him. His skin was burning hot. She hardly noticed as he dragged her jacket from her shoulders, threw it to the floor. Her shirt followed, then her bra. At last he released her mouth and she took in huge breaths of air, filling her starving lungs.
Lowering his head, he sucked one tight nipple into his mouth, then bit down, and she gasped. He repeated the process with the other, alternating stinging bites with soothing strokes of his tongue until she was mindless with need.