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  Hours of sparse conversation bugged Jake. He wanted to ask her a million questions, or maybe just hear her voice.

  "Are you still being sensible?"

  Batting her lashes, she looked at him like a sleepy kitten. “Are you still talking Christmas?"

  Whatever, he had gotten a response from her.

  "Sure. We can go shopping, decorate a tree, and stay in my apartment.” His thoughts raced through his dwelling, trying to locate anything that would send her screaming out the door. Nothing popped up. He was always pretty careful about cleaning up. Funny, he couldn't remember his last visitor. “Well, what do you say?"

  "You're sweet to offer, Jake, but I have a suite reserved. I'll stay there."

  He didn't know what to call the pain slicing through his gut. Disappointment, maybe some anger, cause he figured she'd try to hook up with that prick again. Damn it. Well, he was through begging. So long honey. I have plenty of phone numbers.

  Yeah, and none of them ever said maybe.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Jessica saw the irony of it, the quiet tension in the interrogation room and the cheerful ring-a-ling sound of the Salvation Army's kettle bell.

  Her meandering thoughts were corralled by the arrival of her partner. Jake nodded and sat across from her at the conference table, then tossed his report folder down.

  "Fontana.” He rubbed his chin. He was now sporting a nice five-o'clock shadow.

  "Claypool.” She hated the unfamiliar distance between them, silently willing the meeting into warp speed.

  Years of being tough and holding her tongue made it impossible to tell him why she'd pulled back. Now she wished desperately for the ability to explain her fear of being rejected by him.

  You botched it again, Jessica. It's too late.

  Her nerves were now crisp as tinsel on a tree and her stomach turned over for the tenth time that day. Frank Adler entered the room, his expression unreadable as he collected the final reports she and Jake had written.

  Jessica could envision him dropping them, mixing the two accounts and getting vastly differing versions of what went down. She handed her report to Frank, swallowing back a sigh of relief when he didn't throw it down. The debriefing session earlier had been rough, and wasn't over yet.

  "Your written accounts fill in most of the blanks.” He scanned her notes. “What happened the last few minutes you were in the air?"

  She controlled the sharp reply that hammered at her teeth to escape. “We became aware of the presence of an electrical or wiring problem and did a routine search of the plane."

  "Who noticed the problem first and what was done?"

  "It was a simultaneous action. We both did what we could to remedy the situation."

  "In your report, you stated the aircraft was not air worthy when you took charge of it."

  "That's correct.” Okay, her job with the department was going out the window. “The faulty wiring had been overlooked by maintenance."

  Frank perused her file for several long minutes, until her body shook with tension. “Anything else, Fontana?"

  "Yes, sir.” She gazed steadily at Jake. “Agent Claypool did everything possible to land the aircraft. He carried out this mission with complete competence and did everything in his power to save Ambassador Yaqueros."

  "Duly noted.” Frank shut the folder. “Agent Claypool. Do you have anything to add, other than what we went over in the situation room?"

  "I won't fly another plane those goons have serviced. Period.” Jake's gaze riveted to the bruise on her cheek. “I want full and fast restitution for the money we spent getting back here."

  "Done,” Frank said, heading for the door. “Welcome home. We know this was difficult.” He turned back to speak to her. “Agent Claypool's report was basically the same as yours. He had nothing but high praise for your handling of the situation. There's a possibility of sending you out with Claypool again."

  Her crazy heart pounded with excitement, but common sense screamed, no.

  "Thank you, sir."

  Frank smiled and opened the door. “We want you both to know your work is appreciated. I'll file your final reports."

  They were alone at last, and Jessica slowly gathered up her personal items, ready to leave Dallas the day after Christmas.

  Today was Christmas Eve. Ho. Ho. Ho.

  Frank opened the door again, smiling as if they were all best friends. “The department Christmas party is being held at The Longhorn Bar, just a few blocks from here. You should come by."

  "I'll do my best, sir."

  Sure, and show up there alone looking like you're stalking Jake.

  God, she was pathetic. Then again, why not go? She had time to find something to wear. Maybe. She looked up to see Jake's blue gaze touching her face.

  He stood and smiled at her. “He's right, Fontana. You did a man-sized job out there. You saved my bacon more than once."

  She wanted to hold him tight and touch the white bandage on his forehead and kiss his stitched up chin.

  "We looked out for each other, Jake. Thank you for the vote of confidence."

  He lifted his hand, saluting her with a crooked grin. “Like I said, I'd go out in the field with you anytime, Agent Fontana."

  She couldn't answer, the lump in her throat making it too painful to speak. He left the room, leaving her alone with tears splashing down her cheeks.

  When will I see you again?

  The answer was wrenchingly obvious. Her lawman was gone.

  She left the building, heart in her shoes, half seeing the merchandise in the decorated windows. Nothing spoke to her, not until the little black chiffon number in the showcase caught her eye. The shop was obviously high-end with price tags to match.

  She went in and her first thoughts were confirmed. Everything was expensive, catering to small sizes and quantities. The short black dress was perfect, nipped in waist, cap sleeves and a short skirt softly drifting about her knees.

  Before she left the shop, she bought an evening bag for her weapon and strappy black heels to make her look good.

  If Claypool wasn't there, she'd have to resign herself to being the loser she was quickly becoming.

  * * * *

  Jake threw his jacket on top of the slacks he'd considered wearing to the lame-assed department party. He wasn't going. If he didn't, his performance review would say he wasn't a team player, anti-social and aloof. Whatever the hell that meant.

  He reached for the phone, but couldn't remember any of the chick's names he'd dated. He knew there was no way he'd call anyone except Fontana. She hadn't left his thoughts, and his life was not his to control.

  Stop it, man. She's the best thing you've ever come in contact with. The only thing she's done is make you realize what a dud you are.

  He grabbed the slacks and shirt, ripped off their protective plastic cover, and threw fresh underwear on the bed. He was going to that bash and find Fontana. If she wasn't there, he'd go to her hotel. When he found her, he'd make it clear she needed him, even if he had to beg.

  Thirty minutes later, he was showered, freshly shaved, dressed and smelling like a freaking flower. He was ready to claim his mate.

  * * * *

  Jessica had never felt so conspicuously alone. She'd arrived at the party late, hoping no one noticed her.

  To fit in with the crowd, she took a glass of champagne, touching it to her lips as she walked around the edge of the crowd.

  "Fontana.” Someone called to her from across the room. “Over here. Glad you could make it."

  After dancing on the hot seat all afternoon, she didn't feel like socializing with Frank. She smiled brightly and waved, pretending to be involved in a conversation with a group near by.

  The music was good but left her feeling melancholy. She shouldn't have come. Everyone in the crowd looked like cops. Making it worse, that special cop was nowhere in sight.

  Of course, he wasn't there. Why would a single guy come to this controlled atmosphere with
nothing but people he worked with? She should have thought of that before coming here like a desperate fool.

  Escape presented itself in the form of French doors near the bar. She moved toward them, glancing over her shoulder, hoping no one noticed her tuck-tail exit.

  In the cool darkness, she looked around. There must be a way out of there, a way to get back to her hotel and out of Dallas. She didn't know how she'd face the dismal night waiting for her.

  Fighting off the crushing weight of loneliness, Jessica hurried toward the fancy iron gate of the fence surrounding the courtyard.

  Something made her turn and look back. A dream, maybe. She squinted to see through the mist that had begun to fall. No, this was no dream. He stood looking at her with his lawman eyes and heartbreaking smile.

  "Jake!"

  She didn't mind sounding overjoyed. She was! She ran across the patio like a woman in love. Oh, God, she was so in love.

  "Jessica!"

  He caught her in a hard embrace, kissing her with fevered passion. “Were you really leaving me?"

  "I'm so sorry, Jake.” She clung to him with no intention of ever letting go. “I just couldn't stand being here without you."

  "I came here to find you, babe. To tell you I'm crazy in love with you.” He touched her hair, pressing quick kisses to her lips. “I won't let you go until you admit you feel the same way."

  "I do love you, Jake. So very much.” Tears clouded her eyes and her voice shook with emotion. “You didn't have to come here. I was coming to find you."

  "Lord, Jess. You had me scared.” He hugged her closer. “Don't ever walk away without saying you'll be back."

  "I'll never make you wonder, Jake."

  The night was beautiful now. The man she'd once thought might be a little diversion had become her life partner.

  He took her hand, leading her through the gate to his car. “Agent Fontana."

  "Yes, Agent Claypool."

  "Let's go back to my apartment and get real comfortable. We have plans to make."

  "Yes, darling.” With her man holding her in his arms, she seemed to float on air, her heart bursting with love for him. “This could just take the rest of our lives."

  The End

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