Twelve weeks earlier
The next morning Jake maintained a silent vigil. Watching. Pondering. Grieving.
Even in sleep, agony plowed furrows in Angela’s forehead.
Pain and guilt gripped Jake. Feelings born from forcing her to tell him the truth about her problem with sex. He’d never felt this way after any of his kills. In fact, he had watched brave comrades die in battle and not grieved this deeply. Was he suffering because he had pushed her so hard to reveal something she wanted to keep secret?
He gulped as terrible memories of last night drifted in. Angela’s anguish had enveloped them both as she’d struggled to give a brief description of the trauma from four years ago. He’d listened, asked no questions.
After she fell asleep in his lap, he’d sat for an hour lost in thought.
A devil on his left shoulder had coaxed him to finish the job, to complete the contract. To use the sleeping pills in her medicine cabinet. Now. Tonight. Get it over with. Put Angela out of her misery. And him out of his.
But an angel on his right shoulder had pleaded for compassion. Jake’s insistence on knowing the root of Angela’s opposition to sex had brought her suffering to the surface. His lack of empathy had probably destroyed the progress she had fought so hard to achieve. He must bear the responsibility for reopening her excruciating wounds. Feeling he owed Angela for his horrid behavior, Jake had sided with the angel and shoved thoughts of the contract aside.
Eventually, he’d carried Angela to bed and tucked her under the covers. After taking care of Chelsea and securing the condo, he stood at the door with his hand on the knob. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wood. A sense of protectiveness like he’d never experienced washed over him. Finally, he’d surrendered, returned to her bedroom, and lay down beside her. Beside the traitor he was supposed to kill.
What the hell was he going to do now?
Absently, he lifted a strand of hair off her face, rubbed the silkiness, and draped it onto the pillow. He savored her high cheekbones, her long lashes, her full, luscious lips. His dick responded, but he shook off the lust guiltily. Maybe Angela was right about men—about him.
She stirred.
Instantly, he shut his eyes.
* * *
Angela’s scream died in her throat. A man was in her bed, but he was fully clothed and on top of the covers. Still, she gasped sharply at the sight of Jake’s head on the pillow next to hers. With a sigh of relief, she realized that, under the covers, she too was dressed.
She closed her eyes. The sheer effort to keep them open seemed too much.
And her emotions were as leaden as her body. Revealing her vile secret had not lightened her burden. Disappointment that their relationship was now definitely over actually added more weight. Of course, she’d known from the beginning it would end—just like all the others.
But, in fact, it hadn’t ended like the others. This was the worst yet. Jake knew. Oh God, he knew the horrible truth about the rape, about the reason for her frigidity. About the amnesia that held her prisoner.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she rolled over. Dear God, let me be normal again. Please. Isn’t four years of suffering enough?
Drawing on strength she hadn’t known she possessed, she silently climbed out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. She avoided her reflection in the mirror as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. While running a brush through her hair, she finally glanced at the mirror and practiced a smile. She might as well look nice when they said their last good-bye. Inhaling deeply, she opened the bathroom door and froze.
Jake was gone.
Angela stumbled forward and collapsed on the bed. She gritted her teeth and willed the tears not to come.
It’s better this way. No drama. No pity. No excuses. No lies.
She rolled onto her back, pressed her palms against her eyes, and then raked her fingers through her hair. Today is the first day of the rest…
A noise from downstairs intruded on the inspirational thought. She bolted upright. Her wobbly legs carried her to the bedroom doorway. Cabinets closing, cups clanging, coffeemaker sputtering.
Jake.
Gripping the railing, Angela steadied herself as she hurried down the stairs. A minute later, she leaned against the kitchen doorjamb and watched Jake pour two cups of coffee.
“I thought you left,” she said.
“Why would I leave?” he asked, turning toward her.
Her eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you found out I’m damaged goods.”
Jake frowned. “Damaged goods? I can’t believe you said that. What kind of jerk do you think I am?”
“A normal male jerk.”
“Stop it, Angela. Give it a break.” His expression grim, he set both cups on the kitchen table and sat down.
She hesitated, drew a deep breath, and joined him.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke as they sipped the steaming coffee. Finally, she broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Thank you for spending the night, but you don’t need to stay any longer. I’m fine.”
“If you believe that, then you’re doing a damn good job of lying to yourself. But I’m not buying it.”
She sighed emphatically. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. I’ve done the best I could since it happened. If you don’t like the results, too bad. It’s my life.”
Jake slurped his coffee while he stared out the kitchen window. His face failed to mask the debate inside his head. He turned back to Angela, his steel gray gaze nailing her to the chair. “Did you have a good sex life before the rape?”
Her lips pressed into a tight line. That he could say the word so easily meant he didn’t fully comprehend the totality of the violation. “Yes. But it’s none of your business.”
“It is if I want to help you get it back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I agree you’ve done a tremendous job of moving on with the rest of your life. You’re an incredible woman, Angela. But without sex, will you ever feel normal? Will you marry? Will you adopt children?” he asked, his tone challenging, as if he knew his words touched sensitive chords.
“None of your business.”
“Look, damn it, I’m trying to be a nice guy. I can help you.”
“Why would you want to?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Oh, I get it. It’s a trick so you can sleep with me.”
“Been there, done that.”
“What?” Her voice rose a notch.
“Last night. Actually, I didn’t sleep much, but I sure as hell spent the whole night in bed with you.” He jiggled his eyebrows mischievously.
“You jerk.”
“Sometimes. But last night, I was a perfect gentleman.”
Folding her hands in her lap, she nodded. “Yes, you were. Thank you.”
“Angela, look at me.” Slowly, she met his gaze. “You don’t want to cringe every time a man touches you. You don’t want to panic every time a man kisses you. And if you’re not dying to get your libido back, I’d bet your previous sex life wasn’t really all that great.”
“It was fine.”
“Let’s see if I can describe ‘fine.’ At twenty-five, you’d had maybe four or five sexual partners. They were all normal young men, no perverts or anything, but they never did much for you. Your pleasure wasn’t their first priority.” Jake stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Sex probably two or three times a week after you finally got to that point in the relationship. You’d only climax occasionally, maybe twice a month. But you’d always fake it the other times so the guy wouldn’t feel bad. Never once did a man totally, completely satisfy you or make you lose control. Or make you scream in ecstasy without caring who heard.” His eyes searched hers, but they weren’t mocking, they were imploring. “Am I right?”
Angela swallowed her pride. “Close. Very close.”
“I can fix all that,” he said, his voice husky. “Sex with me would be a whole different experience. Believe me.”
She huffed. “See. You do want to sleep with me.” She jumped up and started for the door.
Jake swung off the chair and caught her by the shoulders. He gently pushed her back against the counter. “Yes, you’re right. I already confessed last night, remember? I’ve wanted you since the day we met. But I haven’t done anything to force myself on you, have I?” When she didn’t answer, he shook her once. “Have I?”
“No.”
“Honest to God, Angela, I won’t hur—” He stopped abruptly, blinked, and gulped. “I won’t…hurry this any faster than you want to go. And if you don’t like it, you can tell me to go to hell.”
She studied him for a long moment. “I don’t know, Jake.” She shook her head, cringing with indecision. “I’m…afraid,” she whispered.
“Of me?”
“No. Of failing.”
“Failure is not an option. What do you say?” He grinned seductively. “May I begin my twelve-step, sexual recovery program?”
She gulped. “I’m not sure. How would we start?”
He smiled. “Slow and easy. Actually, the kiss Friday night was step one. You didn’t panic, which was good. While we continue practicing step one, we’ll add step two.”
“Which is?”
“This.” He slid one arm around her back and pulled her closer. Instinctively, she crossed her arms in front of her. Jake eyed them and shook his head. “Wrap both arms around my waist.” She didn’t move. “Angela.” She smiled faintly and obeyed. “Now I’m going to embrace you by holding you against my chest. Of course, that means those beautiful tits are going to be pressed against me. You’ll know I can feel them, and I like it. Don’t freak out. It’s normal. Try to enjoy the sensation.”
She angled her face up toward his as he embraced her. Tension traveled down the length of her body.
“It helps if you’re not as stiff as a board,” he joked, lowering his head and placing his lips near her ear. “Easy, babe. Relax.”
She inhaled deeply, shuddered, and released some of her tension.
“Better,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear. “Now, we’re going to practice step one at the same time. Ready?”
She nodded. I can do this. I need to do this. I want to be normal.
His lips brushed lightly across her cheek to her lips. Her eyes widened when he softly caught her lower lip with his teeth. His warm breath mingled with hers. He released her lip to capture her entire mouth.
She stiffened when his tongue traced her lips teasingly. With gentle probing, they parted. Without hesitation, he thrust inside. She felt, as much as heard, his groan.
His arms tightened around her as his exploration deepened.
She fought the urge to pull away, tried to enjoy the frightening sensations his tongue provoked. She trembled and suppressed a whimper.
Jake stopped. His tongue retreated, but his heart still thundered against her. He finished with a simple, firm kiss before resting his chin on top of her head. His hands tenderly stroked her back.
“You okay?” he asked. She nodded against his neck. “You did good, but we’re going to need lots of practice. And then we’ll tackle step three.”