Free Once Burned (Task Force Eagle) by Susan Vaughan Page A

all this is hard
enough for me and I didn’t see the fire until it was out. What then?”
    “A wall of red. Nothing more.”
    He swigged down the last of his beer and closed the
distance between them. The skin on his face looked stretched tight with
emotion. He propped his arms on either side of her. His eyes bored into hers. “If
I’d stayed, that bastard wouldn’t have had the chance to start the fire.”
    He’d ditched when the relationship hit the rocks but
his leaving wasn’t desertion. Even knowing the truth, it appeared he felt
responsible, guilty.
    Being so close to him made her skin prickle. She gave
a wild shake of her head. “Allow me to repeat your own words—not your fault.
You couldn’t have known. I loved my sister but she was a flirt and impetuous.
Worse. She cheated on you big-time. Then she pushed you into breaking up with
her.”
    “Maybe.” His gaze swept over her face. He caressed her
hair absently, almost as if he didn’t know he was doing so.
    If her hands hadn’t been a damn mess, she’d have
grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. “I have to keep looking for answers
for Gail. And for my peace of mind.” She jabbed a finger at her scar. “You feel
responsible. I feel responsible. Guilt makes no sense but there it is.”
    His warm breath, yeasty with beer, puffed against her
face. He gripped her shoulders, his big hands gentle and warm through her thin
tee. “Failing Gail—and you—isn’t the only time I’ve screwed up. The explosion
you read about in New Hampshire, I couldn’t protect the agent who died either.
I hate the danger you’re in, but you’re right. We have to keep going.”
    The anguish in his voice drilled her chest. Too ironic
that he warned her against himself. He was removing from the equation the very
thing she feared—having to rely on a man. She hated relying on anyone, but the
cold North Atlantic tide was rising over her head. Almost did for real the
other night.
    Wounded palms out, she laid her hands on his chest.
    His heartbeat thudded into her very bones and made her
want to melt into his arms. She tried not to think about the feel of his arms around
her at the lake. Or of the kiss. She’d kissed him back, absorbing his strength
and his sun-warmed scent. Honorable and dedicated, tortured and sexy, he made
her feel all squishy and liquid and needy. More compelling than sex was another
need. A dangerous need that would lead to hurt and heartache.
    She met his gaze. “Failure at protecting? Jake, that’s
a load of crap. You’re a natural protector. Didn’t you come with me today in
spite of yourself? But never mind. I don’t want protecting. I want the truth. I
want your experience, your expertise. You can help me question our old friends,
the people Gail worked for—”
    She stopped, thrown off balance by the blazing blue
heat in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her. And God help her, she wanted him to.
    He lowered his head and rocked his mouth over hers.
    The first time he’d kissed her had startled her. This
time every cell in her body thrummed and heated. His rough fingers glided up
her throat, sparking wildfires in their wake. He wedged her into him and she
felt him stir to life against her belly. She kissed him back, absorbing his
strength and his scent. His tongue caressed hers, testing and enticing, making
her senses reel and her center tingle.
    “Aw, shit, Gail.”
    His murmur against her mouth hit her like a slap.
Sharp, stinging, scorching hot coals jolted through her. She shoved away from
him, stumbling toward the hall.
    She heard his rasp of breath behind her but didn’t
turn around. She couldn’t bear to look at him yet.
    “Dammit, I didn’t—”
    A knock at the mud-room door announced the pizza’s
arrival, and he strode away.
    Weak at the knees, tingling from his embrace, she
returned to the table and sank onto a chair. It wasn’t her he wanted. He saw
Gail in her. Still wanted Gail.
    She’d not be a stand-in for the woman he