Jackson laughed again and picked her up in his arms. Swinging her around. "I missed you." This time he a.s.sailed her mouth, savoring every inch of it.

When he lifted his head, she let out a happy sigh. "I missed you, too. Come and sit down. I know from Chi that you can't tell me what happened, but at least tell me you don't have to go back."

Jackson pulled her onto his lap. "Do you really want to discuss all that now?"

She nodded. "I need to know, whatever you can tell."

"Well, ninety-nine percent of it is cla.s.sified, but I can tell you this. I was set up, by someone I thought was a friend." Dawson in London had compromised Jackson with Vlad in hopes of making his own arms deal. It was Dawson who wrote the burn notice and dumped Jackson in Thailand.

The truth was, Jackson had never been burned. When he'd contacted Dawson, who was his handler, the notice had been confirmed. Dawson had told him to jump the grid and to stay off it. He'd help when he could. Jackson had been an idiot and believed him.

What he'd learned over the past two months was Dawson had faked evidence indicating Jackson was a part of some sleeper cell in Eastern Europe. He'd been branded a traitor by the United States government, and that was why the execution order had been sent out on him. It had taken Jackson over a month to explain the details of what had really happened. Once they knew the truth, the Company was able to piece together information that proved it was Dawson who had been part of the sleeper cell.

"My saving grace was that someone else-" his friend Pete who had e-mailed him about the trap "-was on to what was happening. He and his handler were the ones who convinced Langley that it was all one big mess."

Jackson had gone through almost a month of questioning about why he didn't follow protocol. The only things that had helped him make it through were that he had the truth on his side, and that eventually he'd find Mar waiting for him. At least he'd hoped she would wait. He refused to let himself think otherwise.

He hadn't been allowed to work the operation that took Dawson down, but he'd watched from headquarters. His former handler was no longer a threat. Jackson's only regret was that he wished he could have been the one to bring him in. The man had nearly ruined his life, and he'd put the woman Jackson had come to love in danger. That was his most unforgivable sin.

Still, the irony that he might have never met Mariska if he hadn't been in trouble wasn't lost on him.

"So do you still work for them?" Her voice was soft with worry.

"No. Once everything was cleared up, I retired. But don't worry. I'll start my job search on Monday." He had benefits, and he'd socked away almost all of his salary from the last eight years. He could well and truly retire if he wanted, but he knew he needed more.

She pursed her lips together. "Good. I can't even imagine how I'd feel every time you'd have to go off on some crazy mission. I looked up that tattoo on your neck, I know the skull and the number have to do with how many times you've been shot and lived. I'd really rather that number not go any higher."

Jackson couldn't agree more. "Don't worry. I'll get a job protecting poodles or something inane like that. No more spy stuff."

She snorted. "Poodles? Forget that. You don't need to search for work. You can join the SIA. Oh, my G.o.d. You'd be perfect," she said in a rush of excitement, "and it's about time we had a man on staff. We could use some testosterone around here."

Jackson enjoyed her enthusiasm and her willingness to help. "That's sweet of you, but I'm not big on handouts." No, he'd find a job in security. He wasn't really worried, and he'd try to find something here in Texas, though he'd probably make more money in New York or London.

"There's nothing sweet about it. You know about the staff here. My mom set it up so we have the best investigators in the business. We do a lot of international work. h.e.l.l, your gift for languages alone could save us a lot of time. Yesterday I was trying to deal with a man who only spoke Portuguese, and I really could have used your help. How many languages do you speak, exactly?"

Jackson had to stop and think. "In all I probably have a working knowledge of about thirty, but I'm fluent in about fifteen."

"See, there you have it."

Jackson squeezed her to him. "You are so beautiful."

"Stop it." She swatted at him. "I want you to take this seriously. At least tell me you'll consider it, and that you'll come in and talk to the rest of my gang? They're all dying to meet you."

"I'll consider it, but the reason I'm here isn't for a job. I want to take you out on a proper date, dinner, maybe a movie? You'll have to pick the film, I'm not sure what's in the theater these days." He'd been so busy trying to clear his name that he hadn't paid much attention to the rest of the world the last few months.

"Hmm. A proper date, where you take me to the porch and kiss me good-night?"

"Exactly." They'd started their relationship in a very heated way, and Jackson planned to take some time to court her. He'd go the old-fashioned route for once. It was the first time in his life he'd even allowed himself to think about a long-term relationship and he wanted to do it right.

Mar really had become his sole reason for living the past few months, and he was going to do whatever he could to convince her to spend the rest of her life with him.

Mar pursed her lips. "Uh, I don't think so."

Her answer caught him by surprise. Then it dawned on him, she probably had other plans. What an idiot he'd been. It was Friday night. The idea that she might have a date with another man hit him hard, leaving him feeling like he'd been punched in the gut.

She grabbed his face between her hands. "Stop, whatever it is you're thinking. I can see those wheels turning in your head. Of course I want to go on a date with you."

Jackson laughed with her. "I thought maybe you were seeing someone else."

Mar joked, "For such a smart guy you can be so crazy sometimes. Jackson, I've been waiting months for you to get out of that place, and then you think I could even look at another man? What is wrong with you?"

He loved it when she had that sparkle in her eyes. That she was mad pretty much made his night because it meant she cared about him.

Jackson kissed her to shut her up. When her hands reached around his neck, he knew he'd been forgiven.

"There's something else you need to know, Mar. It's cla.s.sified, but I have to tell you."

Her face became a serious mask. "What? You know you can tell me anything. Really, Jackson."

"I love you." Then he showed her exactly how he felt as his lips connected once again with hers. This time with all the longing and love he had felt for her these past two months. He hadn't lied about her being his reason to exist. She was his everything. His hands slid down her back, but he stopped when he tasted a tear.

She stared at him for a moment, a variety of emotions playing on her face, a single tear sliding down her cheek. Jackson worried that maybe he'd told her too soon.

"What's wrong, baby?" He moved back farther so he could get a better look at her.

Then she smiled. "I wasn't expecting that."

Jackson c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her odd response.

"I mean, it's great news, because I love you, too." Touching his cheek, she kissed him again. "I'd almost given up hope that we'd be able to see one another again, and I was so mad that I didn't tell you when we were on the plane," she whispered against his lips.

She loved him. Those words opened something in Jackson's heart and warmth spread through him.

He grinned. "So, how about that date. I bet we can catch a late meal and a midnight movie."

"We could." She pursed her delectable lips together. "But I was thinking we'd skip the movie and the dinner and go straight to dessert." Her left eyebrow rose and she gave him a wicked smile.

Then she shoved him back on the couch.

So much for the slow route.

"Are we playing the sheikh game again?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"No games, babe. This is you and me making one awesome dessert." She leaned over, pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his chest.

Jackson had a feeling he was never going to want for dessert the rest of his life. As she melded against him, his life felt as close to perfect as it ever could.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-4789-9.

end.