Page 24 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Seventeen

Jesse remained motionless as Cole carefully undid the hook on her pants, then the button and the zipper. He drew back the waistband until the top of her powder blue boy-short panties were visible. Her body tightened at the prospect of inspecting the rest of those cigarette burns he’d mentioned. The girl always falls for the bad guy, that’s how she justified it when she found herself remembering the broad shoulders and lean forearm he’d revealed when he’d shown her the burns. He started to slide the pants from her hips.

She didn’t move, and he looked up at her. “Lift your hips so I can get the pants off.”

Jesse still didn’t move. Cole glanced at the bloodstains. His brow furrowed. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he actually cared.

He pinned her with a hard stare. “You haven’t taken proper care of this.”

“I—”

“I’m not stupid, Jess. It wouldn’t bleed like this if tended properly.”

She sighed, and lifted her hips. Cole tugged the pants over her hips, taking care, she noticed, not to drag her panties down. That’s what she got for not wearing a thong. The boy shorts were little less than short shorts. Emma Peel would have planned better. So would she, next time.

“I checked into the Cayman account,” Cole said as he peeled the bloody pant leg from her leg, then tugged the garment free of her stocking feet. “It walks and talks like a payoff.”

Cole dropped the pants on the floor beside the chair. He gripped her ankle and began unwrapping the bloody gauze from her calf. The bandage snagged on clotted blood and yanked at the wound. Jesse winced.

Cole looked up at her. “You okay?”

Jesse grimaced. “That hurts more than when he cut me.” A little melodramatic, she realized, but the situation seemed to call for it.

Cole gave a serious nod, then went back to unwrapping the bandage. The bandage pulled free and he discarded it beside the pants. He shook his head as he caressed her knee around the wound.

“You’ve ripped out more stitches, and I can’t take you back to Rayburn. You shouldn’t have run.”

His mouth thinned and she wondered how much more disapproving the look would get once he knew he wouldn’t get his money back, no matter how good a performance he gave. Had he arrived five minutes earlier, he could have stopped the transfer. Now, he needed her in order to get his money back. Amazing how five minutes made them new best friends. Cole grabbed a bottle of peroxide and box of gauze from the bed, tore open the box, and pulled out a sterile square. He opened the peroxide and saturated the gauze.

“This’ll sting,” he said, and began cleaning blood from her skin in wide swaths, like a professional.

He was right. The cut stung bone deep as it foamed white in the wound.

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to frame you,” he said.

Someone? She was betting Cole would tell her Lanton was Superman in disguise and had accomplished the feat all on his own, the same way Cole had found her. The muscles in Cole’s shoulders flexed beneath the fabric of his shirt. Hello Superman—and hello to Superwoman’s kryptonite.

“I’ll take it from here,” she said, and pulled her leg free of his grip.

Cole cupped her heel and straightened her leg. “Don’t get feisty. Someone has to clean the wound, tape the skin back together—straight and tight—then wrap it.” He released her leg, ripped open another sterile gauze, soaked it in peroxide, and began the final cleanup.

Jesse decided the cool evaporation of peroxide and the warmth of Cole’s hand were a fair trade for the frustrated desire to beat him senseless. She relaxed and studied his face as he ripped medical tape with his teeth. He wasn’t perfectly handsome in profile. His chin jutted a bit too much and a bump on the bridge of his nose indicated it had been broken.

“Where did you learn medicine?” she asked.

“I started as a medic in the Army Rangers—Afghanistan, Iraq.”

“You said you were in the Navy.”

He gave her an apologetic glance, but said nothing.

“How did you get started in this business?”

“I come from a long line of ex-military. It’s obligatory. ROTC, officer training, active duty. I did my duty and was recruited into Green Team by Lanton.”

Jesse studied him. What if he was he telling the truth about Colombia and simply didn’t mind taking money for bringing her in? Would it be easier to deal with wanting him if he were just a man she had failed to save and not one she should want to kill instead of make love to all night? Would he resist if she pushed him onto the carpet and straddled his hips?

“How did you meet Lanton?" she asked.

Cole began wrapping the gauze around her leg. “He ran a covert operation to locate WMDs as the civilian intelligence officer. He made me his point man for a year. I had planned on going to veterinary school after the Army. When Lanton pulled me from the field and offered me training, more education, and an opportunity to make a difference defending the U.S., I said yes.”

Jesse flexed her leg to test the bandage. Like he said, good and tight. He would have made a good veterinarian. She remembered Lancelot, and blurted, “How did Rayburn take Lancelot’s death?”

A muscle pulsed in Cole’s jaw and her heart constricted.

“Pretty hard. Lance was only seven. I told Charlie he died a true hero.”

Jesse nodded and started to say the dog’s death wasn’t his fault, then stopped. Cole might be who he claimed to be. He could be an agent Lanton brought in who had nothing to do with Colombia, yet believed it was his duty to bring in a traitor. But the hundred thousand dollars he accepted from Lanton said he might have helped send Green Team to their deaths. So why did every square inch of her body scream to be touched by a man who might be a killer?