The Last Man She'd Marry. Helen Myers R.
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knew Dylan would keep his word and want an update soon. That did nothing to improve his mood for the rest of the evening. Jonas had survived a divorce, managed to keep a decent relationship with his now fifteen-year-old son, and had been holding his breath for an anticipated promotion. When Alyx Carmel had entered his world like a tsunami, he’d been blindsided. He’d never been attracted to female renditions of himself—professional and driven. In fact, he’d avoided dating anyone inside the Bureau or even within coagencies. Yet five minutes after he’d entered her office last year to support Dylan and E.D. during E.D.’s rough divorce, Alyx had him under a spell he had yet to break free of.
He couldn’t sleep without being pulled into some intoxicating dream about her. Last night’s had been a fuse-buster, a reminder of their first night together.
“Why did you agree to join me for dinner?” Jonas asked as they sat across a candlelit table from one another. “You know I’m only here for a brief stay.”
“You offered me a drink,” Alyx replied. “The invitation to dinner was mine.”
So it was—a thank-you for helping Dylan help E.D. It struck Jonas, as he’d eyed the steak and lobster plate a waiter suddenly placed before him, that he was tangled in his own web. He’d come after Alyx unabashedly only to find himself snared, and yet the time between ordering and drinking a half glass of shiraz had been one of the most provocative yet awkward times he’d spent with a date. He would ask her a question about herself and if she answered, it was with a single word, “yes” or “no,” then asked nothing in return. He’d never felt so inept. Every clever word, his gift for disarming and charming, was a total flop.
It was those smoky gray eyes; they reduced him to ash pudding one minute, then invited a lava-hot heat wave without so much as a blink in the next. He felt as though he was trying to gauge traffic in thick fog. No, it was her scent; he’d fought intoxication for the better part of two hours and had yet to identify it, although he held the office record for guessing what female staffers and agents were wearing. Leave it to this unique woman to refuse to share someone else’s creation.
“Okay, seriously,” he said at last. “Why did you invite me?”
“Perhaps for the same reason you invited me.”
He had to put down his glass. Could she possibly mean it? He’d been fantasizing about a couple of hours of no-strings-attached sex. Someone as cool, confident and professional as her couldn’t possibly—then, for a second, he saw the diamond-bright shimmer of amusement in her eyes before she lowered a romantic sweep of velvety lashes with the elegant shyness of a geisha.
At the risk of knocking over her glass, he reached across the table to gently lift her chin to search her eyes.
“Why the surprise?” she murmured with a slight arch of one eyebrow. “Wait—don’t tell me. You’re one of those males who beat a hasty retreat the second you sense conquest?”
For all of his admitted experimental youth, Jonas hoped he’d never been that much of a jerk. “It’s been a struggle, but I’ve almost managed to evolve a step above the penned farm animal.”
“Then eat up, Agent Hunter. We can’t have you losing your strength.”
Things grew decidedly more amiable after that and, in the end, the night was unforgettable. She drove him to her stunning brick home and immediately asked him if she should open another bottle of wine.
“Would you care for any?” he countered.
“Maybe later.”
“Exactly my thought.”
He took that response as a welcome and initiated a kiss; within seconds Alyx took it—and him—to a different realm. Almost immediately he sensed that he was in deeper waters than he’d expected or intended, but her touch, her taste made her too much of a temptation to resist. When she led him to her bedroom, there was no question about not following. She turned her back to him and murmured, “Unzip me?”
He first touched a kiss to the side of her neck. “I think you’re my fantasy come true,” he murmured.
“You’re off the clock, G-man. Stop thinking so much.”
Surrendering, he’d done just that, dropped back onto her bed and let her take him to a place he’d never been before.
Chapter Four
It took Alyx a few days and considerable humility to accept that therapist Sharleigh had been right to rebuke her for her stubborn lack of cooperation. She had to credit the scene with Jonas for the turnaround, too. How humiliating to have him see her a half year later, still carrying ten pounds she didn’t need—especially when she’d been eight under her usual weight when she’d been discharged from the hospital—and moving with the stiffness of someone a decade older.
“Okay, Grace,” she told Parke’s greyhound on the following Monday. “It’s time to swallow my pride and ask Attila the Hunette over at the rehab place to give me another chance. I’ll be back in two hours…sooner if she refuses to hear what I have to say, which is entirely possible if your response to me is any guide to go by. But whatever, I’ll be back in plenty of time for us to talk to your mommy. Deal?”
The dog just sat like the Sphinx.
“I’ll bet you speak your mind the minute you’re alone,” she told her.
Wondering if she was going to last the full duration of Parke’s trip, Alyx climbed into her cousin’s Toyota. Talking to the dog as though she was human; what was next? Thank goodness E.D. couldn’t see this or she’d never live it down. E.D. had taken to the dog at Dylan’s ranch like an extension to her family. Alyx just hoped Grace’s wailing stopped before the neighbors notified the police.
Once at the spa, she hesitated; going inside was triggering another wave of dread about what she intended to do. Sucking up had never been an option for her, not when she was a self-doubting law student, nor when she’d walked out of an envied position at a prestigious law firm after deciding making partner wasn’t worth sleeping with the man who could vote her in.
By the time she entered the center, her clothes were clinging to her as though she’d already done a thirty-minute workout. But apparently, Shar had been doing some thinking, too, and was grateful to have one less client-patient loss to explain even if Alyx was only a guest. Her lips formed a perfect O when she spotted her, and she actually left another person to greet her.
“Alyx. You’re back.”
“Don’t call security. I’m here to apologize for last week’s behavior as soon as I get the glue off the roof of my mouth.”
The blond trainer’s cheeks bloomed with a delicate peach blush and she began to pant softly with relief. “It’s okay. I should never have pushed you as hard as I did. I let myself get caught up in progress and lost sight of the individual.”
“I appreciate that.” Moistening her lips, Alyx asked, “Is there any room in your schedule to fit me in? I really want to—” she thought of Jonas’s grim inspection of her and just as quickly rejected the appeal of seeing desire in his eyes again “—to be able to get out of Parke’s hair when she returns. She will need to get back to creating her art, and I have cases coming up in court.”
“If you have the time, we can do thirty minutes right now to start getting your body prepared for the real workouts. I’ll also show you some yoga stretches to do at home. Then, if you can come tomorrow, I’ve got an hour open at one.”
“I’ll take it.”
At the end of the half hour, Alyx couldn’t pretend that she was any happier than when she’d arrived; in fact, several times she’d needed to blink away tears as Shar worked her through the warm-ups, and even started her on two machines. But the instant Alyx spoke up to point out that she’d reached her limit, Sharleigh assured her