Woman Of Innocence

“That came off me?” How had it gotten here? Her mind whirled. She was blathering, something she did when she was truly stressed. She was making an utter fool of herself in front of her boss and Matt. Jenny wanted to disappear into thin air.

It didn’t happened.

“I admit you’re a beautiful birthday girl, but I don’t think you need this frosting.” Matt gave her a slight, one-cornered smile because he could see how mortified Jenny had become. She was as red as the worst sunburn he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes, luminous and huge, reflected fear, humiliation and embarrassment at his gesture. And where had his words come from? He wasn’t given to making compliments toward women. The sky blue of her eyes seemed to become dappled with gold flecks as his words registered with her. For the first time, Matt saw a tinge of hope mingle with the terror and humiliation in her eyes. It was just a simple compliment, no big deal. But he could see it affected her profoundly.

Licking his thumb, he tasted the sweet frosting. Then he grinned a little to try and relieve her of her embarrassment. “See? All gone. Not bad tasting, either.” Getting to his feet, he held his hand down toward her. Jenny looked at it woodenly. She appeared frozen by his gallant gesture. When she lifted her chin and gazed up at him, he was once again struck by the childlike trust that emanated from her. Yet she was a twenty-five-year-old woman. And she’d always conducted herself with prim efficiency as Morgan’s assistant. Today he was seeing a completely new side to her.

“I don’t bite.”

Jenny grimaced. Her hand shot out and she gripped his callused fingers. With ease, he brought her to her feet. Instantly, she pulled her hand from his, as if burned. Gripping the wet, sticky paper towels, she whispered unsteadily to all of them, “Excuse me. Let me go get rid of these. I’ve got to wash my hands…. I’ll be right back.”

Matt raised his thick eyebrows as the door shut. He cast a questioning look at Morgan. “Are you sure you want her heading up this mission?”

“I’m positive, Matt. Sit down and have some cake. Jenny’s just rattled, is all. She’ll settle down if you give her some space.”

Laura cleared her throat and got Matt’s attention. “Be kind to her, Matt. Jenny is a wonderful, open and helpful person. I feel if you can gently guide her, she’ll do just fine on this interview mission.”

Reaching for the slice of cake on the plate, he picked up a fork and said, “This is like baby-sitting my kid sister—not that I ever had one. Jenny’s clumsy. And she gets rattled too easily.”

Frowning, Laura said, “I know this isn’t the kind of mission you wanted, Matt, but you were the only merc available. Jenny is an open book. She gets her feelings hurt very easily, and she’s supersensitive. She reads body language like a pro.”

“Great,” he muttered, eating the cake. Not only would he have to watch what he said to her, he’d have to carefully mask his reactions as well.

“There’s no danger to this mission,” Morgan noted. “You can sort of consider it a minivacation to Peru. Enjoy the country and its people. Just be there for Jenny, support her and let her know she can handle it.”

“Well,” Matt drawled as he took another forkful of cake, “at least she’s nothing like my shark of an ex-wife.” His mouth twisted downward. “At least I’m saved from that on this mission.”

Chapter Three

Matt tried to ignore Jenny, who wriggled like a happy puppy next to him in the first-class section of the Condor Airlines flight they were on. They’d taken a local hop from Montana over to Seattle, Washington, and gotten the international flight down to Lima from there. Jenny reminded him of the frothy, bubbly champagne. And as if sensing he didn’t want to talk, she tried her best not to engage him too often in conversation. Instead she focused her attention on her laptop computer, creating questions for her interviews.

Feigning sleep, he had his eyes closed, wrapped his massive arms across his chest and spread out his long legs. Even though there was a wide arm between the tobacco-colored leather seats, he could feel her restlessness. Oh, maybe he was being too harsh toward her. Jenny was in constant movement. Maybe like a butterfly instead of a wriggly puppy. Yes, she was definitely butterfly material. Laughing to himself, Matt derided his protective instincts, which made him want to reach out and soothe Jenny’s fractious, ongoing state. She was almost manic. In the airport she had clutched her large, black leather briefcase as if someone was going to steal it from her. Matt had tried to reassure her that this was a level one mission, and no bad guy was going to come out of nowhere to swipe it from her. She’d given him a dirty look that said she didn’t believe him.

The corners of his mouth lifted. Jenny was on high alert as they passed through each airport facility, always looking about and studying people around her as if one of them might be “the enemy.” Matt didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t the way spies worked. This was her fantasy—being on a dangerous, undercover mission. Let her have it. Still, he couldn’t remove that warmth that was lingering stubbornly around his heart every time he thought of her and her clumsiness or her breathy laughter. Her delft-blue eyes shone with such life. He wondered obliquely how someone like her, at age twenty-five, had escaped all of life’s hard knocks.

She behaved as if the world were a wonderful place to be and live in. It wasn’t, of course. Never had been. Never would be.

“Mr. Davis? Are you asleep?”

He stifled a chuckle as he felt Jenny’s tentative tap on his upper arm. Prying one eye open, he looked at her.

“I’m not now,” he rumbled.

“I, uh…well, I thought I’d like to discuss the upcoming interviews with the Apache helicopter pilots.” He was looking at her as if she was a bug to be flicked off because he was bothering her. Gulping, Jenny mustered her courage and swept her hand toward the tray in front of her that held her computer. “I’m not in the military,” she said, keeping her voice very low so they couldn’t be overheard. No telling who might be sitting in front, beside or behind them. Glancing around and giving everyone a suspicious look, she leaned toward Matt as he opened both his eyes and uncrossed his arms.

“I just feel…well, really awkward about heading up this mission, Mr. Davis. I know I’m not military, and yet, Morgan wants me to interview the military pilots down there.” She gave him a frown. “Over the past two hours I’ve been putting together some questions we might ask them. I really need your input. I’m nervous about this and don’t want to mess it up.” Jenny gave a short, insecure laugh. “And believe me, I can screw things up royally. If you could just take a peek at my questions?”

She picked up one page of handwritten questions and waved it in his direction. She saw his brows dip. He sat up and rubbed his face savagely. Jenny cowered inwardly, knowing he was tired. But in five hours they’d be landing in Lima, and she didn’t want to try and formulate her interview questions then. She’d be tired by that time!

Matt looked at the tray in front of her. It was filled with neat piles of handwritten notes beside her laptop. Looking down, he saw at least fifteen wadded-up pieces of paper, like popcorn balls, littering the area around her small, dainty feet. Trying not to smile, he saw that she’d pushed off her practical dark brown shoes. For the flight she had dressed in a dark purple silk suit that brought out the color of her eyes and her burnished gold hair. Now he saw she had a pair of dark purple cotton socks on her feet. He’d meant to tell her how pretty she looked, especially with the dainty gold-and-amethyst earrings and matching choker, which held a teardrop-shaped amethyst pendant around her slender throat. With little effort, she looked both professional and feminine at the same time.

“Let’s see what you’ve come up with,” he muttered.

The male flight attendant came by and asked if they’d like anything to drink. Both said no.

Jenny sat there chewing on her lower lip, her eyes flicking from Matt’s hard, unreadable face to his compressed mouth. He had a beautifully shaped mouth. She sighed inwardly and tried to contain the excitement and trepidation she felt as he went over her questions. Moving restlessly in the seat, she could barely contain herself.

“Well?” she ventured, concealed fear in her tone. “I know they’re probably pretty awful, being that I’ve never been in the military….”

Glancing at her, Matt saw the worry and anxiety written all over her oval face. Such angst in someone her age…what had set her up to respond like this? Had she been overly criticized in her family? Had her parents been perfectionists when she was a child? Even the way Jenny held herself, so erect and stiff, as if expecting a physical blow, made him scowl.

“No…these questions are good. They’re insightful.” He tapped the paper with his index finger. “I like the fact that you’re asking questions on a human level, rather than a military one.”

Gawking at him, her mouth fell open. “You do? You mean you like them? They aren’t awful?”

Setting the paper down in his lap, he focused his full attention on her. “Jenny…may I call you that? Or do you prefer Ms. Wright?”

“Er…no, call me Jenny, please. I hate standing on formality, if the truth be known….”

Nodding, he forced a sliver of a smile for her benefit. He was finding out Laura had been right about Jenny’s ability to read body language big time. “Fine. Call me Matt, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly. Old habits died hard. At the office, he was always Mr. Davis. Jenny never called any of the mercenaries by their first names. When she saw his mouth curve faintly, relief shot through her. Even his gray eyes warmed a bit as he looked at her. It was much easier to deal with than his focused inspection.

“Good,” he murmured. “I need to know a little about you. About your background. That will help me to help you in formulating your base questions.”

The sincerity in his voice shook her, and the earnestness in his slate-colored eyes warmed her to her quaking, cowardly soul. Jenny had never expected that her questions would be worthy of the interview, much less meet with Matt Davis’s approval.

Choking, she looked at him in disbelief. “You…want to know about me?”

With a nonchalant shrug he said, “Why not? You’re my partner on this mission.”

“I see….”

“You know, for all your friendliness and helpfulness, you’re a closed book.”

Wincing, Jenny looked down at the handful of papers in her hand. “I’m afraid I haven’t led a very exciting life…Matt, and I really don’t want to bore you with my life story.”

Such a cream puff. And a delicious one. Matt stopped himself from reaching out to stroke her hair, which looked deliciously mussed. Jenny wore no makeup and the way her blond hair fell soft and straight around her face made her look like a pixie. She looked so young. Yet he saw pain in her eyes and he wondered why. “Want to play twenty questions, then?”

She managed a weak smile. “No, you don’t have to dig. I’ll tell you. But I warn you, you’ll probably be snoring like you were five minutes before I woke you up.”

His brows raised. “I was snoring?”

Chuckling shyly, Jenny said, “It wasn’t loud or anything. Your head was tipped back, was all. A person’s tongue relaxes when they sleep, and I’m sure yours was up against your windpipe, which was why you were snoring.”

Giving her a look of respect, he said, “You’re just a font of information, aren’t you?”

Touching her cheeks, which were heating up beneath his dark, unrelenting inspection, Jenny felt her heart beating erratically. Did the man know he could charm even the meanest snake with those eyes of his? She wanted desperately to drown in his warm gaze. Just the hint of one corner of his mouth lifting upward sent her heart soaring with unaccountable joy. When he smiled, that hard mask fell away and she got a look at the real Matt Davis. She blossomed beneath his attention, especially when he gave her that crooked smile.