In Bed with the Devil / High-Society Mistress: In Bed with the Devil

He heard her rummaging around, then she gasped. He stepped to the pantry door and saw her crouched by the bottom shelf.

“What?” he demanded. “Did you hit your head?”

“No,” she whispered and slowly straightened. She held a box in her hand, but it wasn’t pencils. Instead it was a shoe box covered with childish stickers of unicorns and stars and rainbows.

“This is mine,” she breathed. “I haven’t seen it in years. I’d forgotten about it. How did it get here?”

As he didn’t know what “it” was, he only shrugged.

Meri looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s pictures of Hunter and my mom and all of us.”

She set the box on the counter and opened the top. There were old Polaroid photos of a very young Hunter standing in front of some church. Probably in Europe. He looked about fourteen or fifteen. He had his arm around a much younger Meredith.

“God, I miss him,” Meri whispered. “He was my family.”

Betina walked into the kitchen. “It’s pencils, Meri. You’re supposed to be the smart one. Are you telling me you can’t find a—” Betina stopped. “What happened?” She turned on Jack. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Meri said before he could defend himself. “It’s not him. Look.”

Betina moved close and took the photo. “That’s you. Is that Hunter?”

“Uh-huh. I think we’re in France.” She pulled out more pictures. “I can’t believe it. Look at how fat I am. Did anyone stop to say, ‘Gee, honey, you should eat less’?”

“Food is love,” Betina told her and fanned out the pictures on the counter. “You’re adorable and Hunter is quite the hunk.”

Several more members of Meri’s team wandered into the kitchen. Soon they, too, were looking over pictures and talking about Hunter as if they’d known him.

Jack hung back. As much as he wanted to see his friend, he didn’t want to open old wounds. For a second he wondered if Meri would need comforting, then he looked at all the people around her. She didn’t need him at all. Which was for the best. He didn’t want to get involved.

Meri paid the driver, then carried the bag of Chinese food into the house. “Dinner,” she yelled in the general direction of the stairs, not sure if Jack would come down or not. She was gratified to see him walk into the kitchen a couple of minutes later.

“Why aren’t you out with the nerd brigade?” he asked as she pulled a couple of plates out of the cupboard.

“Nerd brigade?” She smiled. “They’d like that. It sounds very military. They’re all going to a club in Lake Tahoe and I’m not in the mood. Plus, I knew you were lonely, so I stayed home to keep you company.”

“I’m not lonely.”

He sounded annoyed as he spoke, which made her want to giggle. Jack was really easy to rile. It was that stick up his butt—if he would just let it go, he could be a regular person. Of course, his macho I’m-in-charge attitude was part of his appeal.

“Can you reach those?” she asked, pointing to the tall glasses some idiot had put on the top shelf. She could never have left them there.

While he got them for her, she carried the plates and food over to the table in the kitchen, then went to the refrigerator for a couple of beers.

When they were seated across from each other, she said, “So are we invading you too badly?”

“Do you care if you are?”

She considered the question and went with the honest answer. “Not really, but it seemed polite to ask.”

“Good to know. I’m getting work done.”

“Your company specializes in protecting corporations in scary parts of the world, right?”

He nodded.

“An interesting choice,” she said. “But then, you have all that Special Forces training.”

Again with the look.

She passed him the kung pao chicken. “I know a few things,” she said.

“Yes, that’s what my company does. When I left the Army, I wanted to start my own firm. Being a consultant didn’t give me enough control. Someone has to rebuild roads in places like Iraq, and our job is to keep those people safe.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“We know what we’re doing.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be a lawyer?” she asked.

“I joined the Army after Hunter died.”

An interesting way to cope with grief, she thought. But then, maybe the point had been to be so busy he could just forget.

“What do your parents have to say about all this?”

“They’re still hoping I’ll take over the Howington Foundation.”

“Will you?” she asked.

“Probably not. I’m not the foundation type.”

She wasn’t either, but so far it wasn’t an option. Her father seemed content to spend his money on the very young women in his life. Hunter’s foundation ran smoothly. She had her trust fund, which she never touched, and a nice salary that covered all of her needs. If Hunter were still alive…

“You have to deal with your grief sometime,” she said.

“About the foundation? I’m over it.”

“No. Hunter.”

Jack’s mouth twisted. “I’ve dealt. Thanks for asking.”

“I don’t think so. There’s a whole lot there under the surface.” He’d let down his best friend. That had to bug him. Jack had let her down, too, but for once she wasn’t mad at him. Maybe because she’d had a good cry after looking at all the pictures she’d found and felt emotionally cleansed.

She looked at him. “On my bad days I tell myself you’re a selfish bastard who played us all. On my good days I tell myself you wanted to stay but couldn’t handle what you were going through. Which is it?”

“Both.”

* * *