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As he sat beside Jasmine, he was glad he’d shaped up. At least he represented himself well if she happened to compare him to her guy, Eli.
Not like she would. Jasmine was so worried about her man she hadn’t mentioned much about their time together four years ago.
“Do you remember that little restaurant where we met in Athens?” she asked as if reading his mind.
“Antica Café.”
“It was the best,” she said. “Best food. Best view.”
“The best,” he agreed. Ace remembered the café, the day, the way the sun had glinted off Jasmine’s dark hair. He couldn’t remember the food they’d eaten or the view, other than Jasmine. He wasn’t sure he’d eaten at all. He’d been too busy staring into her pretty green eyes, watching how they sparkled when she laughed.
She turned to meet his gaze, her brow creasing. “Do you ever think about that week?”
Every day since.
He nodded, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying the words. She had a new man in her life. She didn’t need to know he’d spent over a year looking for her, haunting the places they’d been together.
“So, why would someone take your guy and force you to commit a crime?” he asked quietly enough no one else could hear him over the noise of the aircraft engine.
Jasmine sat up straighter, her gaze shifting to the window overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. “A lot has changed in the past four years,” she said quietly.
“Why you?” Ace persisted.
She sighed, still looking out the window. “When we were together, did I tell you what I did for a living?”
He had to lean toward her to hear her words. “Not really. You said you worked for a very demanding boss and that you were on vacation, trying to remember how to relax.”
She chuckled. “I wasn’t lying.” Jasmine turned to face him. “After you told me you were a Navy SEAL, I didn’t feel comfortable telling you that I was a member of the Sayeret Matkal.”
He frowned. “The Israeli special forces?”
She grimaced. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t want you to act differently toward me. I was on vacation. Just a girl with a cute boy.”
He sat back in his seat, stunned by her confession. “Wow.”
“See?” Jasmine shook her head. “Even now, you’re probably thinking I’m not a woman but a soldier.”
Ace breathed in and out for several breaths before he could respond. “Not at all.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, then continued. “I’m disappointed you didn’t feel like we’d made a connection. You didn’t feel like you could tell me you were a badass special ops type.” He snorted. “That would explain why you were in such excellent physical condition and could easily keep up with me when I jogged in the morning. I thought you were just a health-conscious woman who worked out in your spare time.”
“I was. Or I am.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “After I returned to my unit, I left the military.”
He frowned. “Why? Leaving the Navy was one of the hardest decisions in my life.”
Jasmine lifted her head, looked him in the eye, then pressed her lips together. “That’s a story for another day.”
He wanted to press the issue, but he recognized the hard set of her jaw and let it go—for the moment.
“After the military, I tried to find work. The only skills I had were the ones I’d learned for combat, along with my ability to speak different languages.”
Ace nodded. “I know the feeling. I had the same struggle coming off active duty.”
“It’s hard to sell yourself to a corporation when all you know how to do is shoot, kill and repeat.”
Ace’s lips curled on the corners into an ironic smile. “Civilians don’t value that kind of resume. Never mind you served your country, putting your life on the line.”
She nodded. “I needed money. I had to work. So, I took on work as a private investigator, as well as providing security for wealthy people and some jobs recovering stolen jewelry and artwork. I never advertised. My reputation and abilities spread by word of mouth. Mostly through the ranks of the rich and extremely private. I was good at blending in. Recovering stolen objects was walking a fine line between theft and legitimate retrieval.”
“I can see that,” Ace said. “Then again, that could be a bonus. Stealing from a thief makes it hard for the original thief to call the police.”
