“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….”
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