He parked the Land Cruiser in front of the house, but left the car in idle. He couldn’t just sit here thoughtlessly losing himself in his wife’s softness in order to avoid the obvious. He needed to take action, to do something to resolve the questions surrounding Zhutov. And he needed to tuck Jayne somewhere safe—most likely somewhere far the hell away from anything in his world since his judgment was crap these days.
Bringing her here had been a selfish choice. He’d wanted to be alone with her. Like some kid showing off an A-plus art project, he’d wanted her to see his clinic, to prove to her there was something good inside him. There were plenty of other places she could stay that were safer. He would talk to Salvatore once Jayne was settled for the night.
He turned off the car, leaped out and slammed the door. Already, he could see her inside on the sofa, lamps shining. He should have tinted these windows rather than depending on the security system.
Just as he hit the bottom step, Jayne opened the front door. Her smile cut right through him with a fresh swipe of guilt.
“Welcome back.” She leaned in the open door, a mug of tea cradled in her hands. “What a crazy evening. But at least you know your security system works as advertised.”
“You figured out how to work the surveillance television?” If so, that should cut down on the questions for tonight, a good thing given his raw-as-hell gut.
“I did, although I’m still a bit fuzzy on the details.” She followed him inside, the weight of her gaze heavy on his shoulders.
“Some of the local Agberos tried to steal some drugs from the clinic. When the alarms went off at the clinic, one of the kids—Ade—ran away and tripped the security system here.”
“Thank goodness they didn’t get away with it. And I’m glad everything was resolved without anyone getting hurt.”
“A guard was injured during the break-in.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing restlessly past a ladder against the wall covered with locally woven blankets. He needed to get to his computer, to plug into the network and start running leads.
“Oh, no, Conrad. I’m so sorry.” Her hand fell to rest on his shoulder. “Will he be all right? Do they need my help at the clinic? I’m sorry now that I didn’t go with you.”
Her touch made him restless, vulnerable.
He walked to the window, looking out over the river. “You were here, safe. That’s the best thing you could do for me.”
“What’s wrong?” She stopped beside him. “Why are you avoiding me?”
Because if he lost himself in her arms right now, he would shatter, damn it. His hands clenched. “This isn’t the right time to talk.”
She sighed, a tic tugging at the corner of her eye. “It’s never the right time for my questions. That’s a big part of what broke us up before.” She squeezed his forearm. “I need for you to communicate with me.”
Her cool fingers on his skin were a temptation, no question. She’d always been his weakness from the day he’d met her.
“I would rather wait for any discussion until we get the report in from Salvatore.”
“What changes if we hear from him?” She frowned, staring into his eyes as if reaching down into his soul. “You think if that man Zhutov has blown your cover, then you don’t have to make tough choices. You won’t have to do the work figuring out how to let me into your life if you keep the job.”
“Or maybe I’m not sure if I’ll be a man worthy of you without the job.” The admission hissed out between clenched teeth, something he’d known deep in his belly even if he hadn’t been willing to admit it until now.
Her eyes went wide. “How in the world could you think that?”
“I’m looking reality in the face, and it sucks. You saw it all on the surveillance camera. You saw those kids in the handcuffs.” The memory of it roared around inside him, echoing with flashes from his arrest, the weight of an ankle monitor, the sense of confinement that never went away no matter how freely he traveled the world. “They were stealing drugs to sell. And we could dig into why they needed the money, but bottom line is that they stole medication that’s hard as hell to replace out here and they injured a guard in the process.”
She gripped his arm harder, with both hands. “It had to be painful seeing the boys you’d played with betray you that way.”
The sympathy in her eyes flowed over him like acid on open wounds. “Damn it, Jayne, I was one of those kids. Why can’t you get that?”
“I do get it. But you changed, and there’s a chance they’ll change, too. Is that such a horrible thing? To believe in second chances?”
The roar inside him grew until it was all he could do to keep from shouting. She didn’t deserve his rage. She didn’t deserve any of this.
“I’m not the good guy you make me out to be. Yes, I took the job with Interpol to make amends, but I do the work because it gives me a high. Just like when I was in high school, like when I broke the law. I’ve only figured out how to channel it into something that keeps me out of jail.” He looked her dead in the eyes and willed her to hear him. “I’m not the family guy you want, and I never will be.”
“What if I say I’m willing to work with that? I think we can find a balance.”
He would have given anything to hear those words three years ago, to have that second chance with her. But he knew better now. “And I don’t. We tried, and we failed.”
“Are you saying this because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt from something related to your job?”
Holding back a sigh, he dodged her question. He’d had plenty of practice after all. “If that was the case, I would just say it.”
“Like hell. You would stage a fight to get me to walk. It’s cliché, just like when I woke up with nightmares, and we’re not cliché kinds of people. We lead our lives doing difficult jobs that rational people would shy away from. I love that about you, Conrad. I love you.”
Damn it, why was she pushing this tonight? Did she want to end things?
And ultimately, wouldn’t that be the best thing for her?
“Jayne, don’t make this harder on both of us. We’ve been separated for three years. It’s time to finalize the divorce.”
* * *
Too stunned to cry, Jayne closed the bedroom door and sagged back on the thick wood panel. At least she’d made it out of that room with her head high and her eyes dry.
How in the hell was she supposed to sleep in here tonight with the memories of a few hours ago still so fresh in her mind, the scent of their lovemaking still clinging to the sheets?
Damn him for doing this to her again. And damn her for being such an idiot.
She ran to her suitcase and dug through it, tossing things onto the floor until she found the little black shoulder bag she’d worn to the casino that first night. She dug inside and pulled out her wedding ring set, the five-carat yellow diamond and matching diamond-studded band.
Her fist clenched around the pair until the stones cut into her palm. She grounded herself in the pain. It was all she could do not to run outside and throw the damn things into the river.
She squeezed her eyes closed and thought back over their fight.
Conrad meant every word he’d said. She’d seen the resolution in his eyes, heard it in his voice. And while she still believed he’d made the choice out of misconceptions about himself, she also accepted she couldn’t change his mind. She couldn’t force him to let go of his past.
She’d waited for him for three years. She’d come here to try one last time to get through to him, only to have him tear her heart to shreds all over again. She didn’t regret trying. But she knew it would be a long time before she got over loving Conrad Hughes, if she ever did.
Now there was nothing left for her but to leave with her head high.
Putting the pieces of her life back together would be beyond difficult and, God, she needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to share a bucket of ice cream and put life into perspective. Her mother was gone. She didn’t have any sisters. Seeing Anthony again was out of the question, and her friends from work would never understand this.
The answer came to her, a place to go where Conrad couldn’t argue about her safety, a person who could offer the advice, support and the sympathetic shoulder she needed. She placed her wedding rings on the bedside table, letting go of them and of Conrad for the final time. She wasn’t chasing after him anymore.
She picked up her cell phone and called Hillary Donavan.
* * *
She was gone. He’d lost her for good this time.
Watching the lazy hippo roll around in the mud, Conrad sat on the dock with a bottle of Chivas, hoping to get rip-roaring drunk before the sun set. The night had been long, sitting on the couch and thinking about her in the next room. He’d prepared himself for the torment of watching over her until Salvatore cleared him to leave.