Julian's Jeopardy

Chapter Five

“Jules, I trust Ava told you I was looking for you?” Mrs. Sharpe smiled warmly, but he wasn't fooled. The woman was a shark in heels, even if she did come to just under his breastbone.

“Yeah.” He might as well admit defeat. Mrs. Sharpe might look like a graceful aristocrat, but she had the tenacity of a pit bull. He wouldn't find any peace tonight until he dealt with the business of medical personnel.

“Come in, please.”

She stepped back, and he followed her inside.

“Close the door.”

He gritted his teeth but closed the door behind him. He turned and walked into Mrs. Sharpe's fastidious study. Everything had its place. A computer, fax, printer, and copier rested against the back wall in a floor-to-ceiling wooden hutch.

File cabinets and a matching desk, which sat opposite the hutch, had been crafted of rich mahogany. He could see his reflection in the wood, polished to a fine sheen. The ornate pair of chairs that faced her desk had a floral, feminine design with enough strength to accommodate his frame. New chairs to replace the ones Fallon and Tersch had broken in their last big battle. When they'd fought over who would rescue him.

As much of a pain in the ass as that fight must have been, he wished he'd been here to see it.

Against another wall sat a couch facing two chairs and a coffee table. A comfortable place for lectures and meetings with the esteemed Mrs. S. Or as Ava laughingly called her, a “pain in my S.”

He held back a smile at the thought, irritated when Mrs. Sharpe quirked her lips, as if reading his damned mind. He reinforced the shields around his thoughts, fairly sure the autocratic woman could read him if she wanted. Though she'd never admitted to psychic abilities one way or the other, she'd helped the others expand theirs.

Fallon and Olivia were much stronger at broadcasting thoughts and handling emotions, respectively. Hayashi could control some of his visions now, focusing his talent where he needed it. Before working with Mrs. Sharpe, he never would have been able to pinpoint where to find Jules in South America.

Jules knew the woman had power. Hell, he could feel the vibrations anytime he came in contact with her. But that didn't mean he trusted her. She held back from them, and he knew it, even if the others didn't really care. Fallon and Hayashi both credited her with finding them their mates. Though Jules thought the same, he knew the woman had a reason for doing so. His inner beast retreated when in her presence, trying to hide deep inside him. That fact alone made him wary.

She tucked a strand of frosted dark hair behind her ear and motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs across from her desk. Instead of sitting next to him, though, as she often did, she sat behind her desk, an adversarial tactic he could appreciate. Not next to him, like a friend or teammate, but across from him, emphasizing her place as his boss and his as her subordinate.

When she continued to sit and stare at him over steepled fingers, he forced himself to sit where she'd pointed and contained the growl threatening to break free. “Yes?” Hell, he'd rather deal with Morgan's smart mouth or Ava's complaints than undergo the third degree from Mrs. Sharpe.

“I've been searching for the right person for months. I think Geoffrey has found us a keeper. She's not a doctor, but she's practiced in the arts of alternative medicine. I think she's the person we need. But she'll need to live on-site.” She'd cut right to the chase, a pleasant surprise.

“No.”

“I don't think you understand, Jules. The team has been in need of a medical specialist for some time. With Doc unable to leave his own Circs up North—and for good reason, considering one of the females is pregnant again—we can't afford not to have our own specialist here to help us. The missions are growing more dangerous. I know you can all heal yourselves, but we need a better medical presence here. Remember when Kisho returned to us so broken, so beaten? And you can't deny it would have been nice to have someone on hand when we first found you.”

He shrugged.

She frowned. “An understanding of Circ physiology is a necessity in whoever agrees to help us.”

“I don't disagree. But with an unknown unfriendly in high places keeping tabs on us, I don't think it's wise to bring in anyone new right now.”

“Jules, it's not an issue. Olivia will verify that this particular woman is telling the truth when she says she means us no harm.” Olivia could feel a lie, a handy trait unless the person lying was a psychopath who didn't feel as if they were telling an untruth. Mrs. Sharpe narrowed her gaze. “And I don't need your permission to do my job.”

“Then why do you keep asking me for my opinion? You're the boss. Do what you need to do.”

“We both know the team takes its direction from you. While I may administratively command this unit, you're the heart and soul of Dawn Endeavor.

Jules, why do you think we had so many issues when you were gone? Though you all should function without one another, the team knows who's alpha. That's you.”

It made him feel good to hear her acknowledge that. Then he wondered why she bothered. “Go ahead. Drop the other shoe. I know you're up to something.” She sighed and fingered one of her earrings. “Jules, we've been butting heads for close to ten months now. At first I thought it was because you didn't like ceding command to a woman.”

He snorted.

“I know. You couldn't care less about gender. Then I thought perhaps you were angry the admiral no longer took as keen an interest in the Circs. But you know this isn't true. Though he's very much involved with his psychics, he's kept a watchful eye on Dawn Endeavor.” When he didn't respond, she continued. “So I can only conclude that your issues have to do with me, personally.” He leaned forward in his chair. “You act like we're all one big happy family.

You pull and push us to do your bidding, but I know you've not telling us everything. I can sense the untruths, the hidden motivation. You smell powerful, strong, but there's subterfuge there, Alicia. And don't think I don't know it.” He unconsciously flexed his muscles, not intending to demonstrate his physical superiority, but the beast raised his head. “I won't tolerate anyone hurting this team. I don't care how strong you are or how many connections you have. These Circs are mine.” He ended in a growl.

Instead of displaying fear, the woman nodded. “It's taken you long enough to call me on it. I'm impressed, Julian. That's a lot of patience for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” His beast sized her up. Small, slender, physically underwhelming to the animal that lived under Jules's skin. But her golden aura showed the deception. So much power existed in the older woman. He knew better than to think he could take her out easily. If at all.

Mrs. Sharpe smiled. “You're a natural leader. Someone who takes care of those under him, a man with a full sense of his responsibilities. For months now, you've let me play at being in charge, but we all know it's a front. Even Geoffrey never acknowledged his own authority over your group, despite his rank. He simply maintained a presence in the Dawn Endeavor command structure to facilitate your needs with other agencies.”

Jules cocked his head, trying to get a read on her. “What's your point?”

“My point is that I do have an agenda, as you so aptly discerned. But my reasons for being here happen to coincide with doing what's right for Admiral London's projects and for this country. I'm not out to hurt any of your team. Far from it.”

He sat up straight. “You know things you shouldn't know. So what do you know now, Mrs. Sharpe? And why the hard-on for this doctor who isn't a doctor?” She frowned. “Jules, really. The language?”

He flushed. “Sorry.” For some reason, the woman could make him feel all of fourteen when she chastised. “My point is, you're not playing straight with me, and I don't like it.”

“Fine. You tell me what's been bothering you, and I'll lay it on the line. Give me that ring on your finger, and I'll tell you exactly who I am and why I'm here.” He blinked and instinctively covered the ring on his finger with his other hand.

“The ring? Why?”

“Tit for tat, Jules.”

“I—No.” He couldn't say why, but taking the ring off was wrong. It belonged to him. She belonged to him. Mine. His beast snarled at Mrs. Sharpe, and just as quickly Jules tucked the animal back where it belonged. What the hell was that about?

Mrs. Sharpe smiled, and to his shock a flare of red appeared in her pupils. It was gone so quickly, he wondered if he'd imagined it.

“Where did you get that ring?”

“I…” He shook his head, suddenly very confused. “Wait a minute. You've admitted you're here for another reason. You owe it to us to tell us why you're here.”

“Do I?”

The sudden image of a curvy redhead touching him, of her hand healing the wounds on his chest, her big blue eyes round with wonder, struck him.

“You see, Jules, that’s why I'm here. I'm just the help, dear.” He shook his head, bemused by the odd flashes he kept having of Sheridan.

“What?”

“It'll make more sense once I'm through with Gunnar.”

“Tersch? What are you talking about?”

She smiled at him. “Why don't you get the door?” He gave her a perplexed look. “I don't understand.” Just then, the doorbell rang.

Sheridan Keyes stared at the door in front of her. She nervously ran a hand through her hair again, wondering if she would have looked better, more professional, by pulling it back. But Jules had seen it in a ponytail when she'd worn it before. Did it really matter how she looked? Odds were the drugs Julian Hawkins had been pumped full of would have negated him remembering anything about her, let alone his time with Ricardo. She'd come for one reason and one reason only: to get her grandfather's ring.

Sure, keep telling yourself that. As if you don’t care about seeing Jules again.

She licked her lips, feeling underdressed and overwhelmed. From the jungles of Brazil to the urban sprawl of Washington DC to a hidden mansion in the Croatan National Forest in North Carolina? Well, it was a whirlwind way of going from point A to point B. That was for sure.

Finding her way out of the Amazon had been easier than expected, with two larger-than-life Circs helping her. Making the right contacts in DC had been harder, but digging deep to find the courage to face the man—the Circ—she now knew to have a mercenary and murderous past had been hardest of all.

Why didn’t I sense his wrongness when I put that ring on his finger? The sapphire had never graced an unworthy hand before, and there I go, putting it on a man who is more than suspect. Dammit. Were the drugs in his system the reason he seemed so in need of healing? Or had he been tricking me all along, as Raul said?

Could the man Sheridan had taken deep inside her body, and her heart, really have killed so many for no better reason than to outdo his rival, Ricardo? Had she escaped from one murderer only to be tricked by an even bigger liar?

The thought of her grandfather's ring on the hand of such an undeserving man was unfathomable. But that Sheridan had been so wrong about Julian…that bothered her more than anything.

Perhaps Raul was wrong. Grayson had encouraged her to find out the truth for herself, and she liked and trusted the large Circ much more than Raul. With Grayson's help, she'd landed this job. It would serve, at the very least, as a temporary means of employment until she figured out what to do with her life. And in the process, she'd hopefully find a way to reconcile the Jules she thought she knew with the man he really was.

Yep. I’m going to deal with Jules and focus on work. Work is safe; work is good.

Even if Jules isn’t as horrible as Raul made him out to be, would Jules really want me anyway? I’m a freak. And a man as handsome as Julian Hawkins would never lower himself to be with someone like me if he didn’t have another choice. Right then, the door opened, and her good intentions to treat Jules as no more than a mystery to be solved went right out the window.

Julian Hawkins looked even better now than he did in her dreams. All six feet four inches of prime male stared down at her in shock, which soon turned to suspicion. Did he remember her after all?

“Alicia!” he yelled over his shoulder, then put a hand on her arm and yanked her into the mansion.

His palm completely closed over her thin bicep, and she reminded herself to start lifting weights as soon as she got the hell out of there.

If only she could forget the memories of his touch. The familiar scent of vanilla and grass wafted over her, and she couldn't stifle a soft moan. The minute she did so, his hand loosened.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly but continued to pull her with him through the grand foyer into the house.

Marble under her feet, ornate wooden frames over cream-colored walls, and rich wooden paneling under the chair rail detailed a place reeking of money. The chandelier overhead had to cost a freaking fortune. Sheridan glanced from Jules to the house again, never having anticipated that a man who could change into a beast, who'd actually fit in to the jungle as if a native, would live in such opulence.

But it certainly gave credence to Raul's theory that Jules was a successful crook.

He continued to tug her into the house until he came to a large room where several others stood to greet them.

Three other men and one woman stared at her with curiosity.

“Hello there,” one of the men drawled. Tall with dark brown hair and green eyes, he stood next to a slightly smaller man with a mixture of Asian and Anglican features. Both of them had the same rugged good looks and raw wildness she associated with Jules, and they both towered over her. Beyond them, a large, dark-haired man held hands with a beautiful woman—the kind Sheridan envied.

The woman was tall and slender with curves in all the right places, so pretty and sexy, she made Sheridan fade into the woodwork. Which is what I want. I’m nothing but furniture. Don’t see me, don’t know me. But a part of Sheridan wanted Jules to know her. To never forget the magic they'd shared, even if it had been no more than a passing dream of what could never be.

The woman frowned as she stared at Sheridan, and Sheridan had a bad feeling. She couldn't say why she did, but she raised her awareness and tried to block out any incoming psychic attacks. Growing up as a healer and with parents who could commune with plants, Sheridan believed wholeheartedly in extrasensory perception and the paranormal.

As well she should, standing as she was next to a shape-shifting mercenary who'd fought an actual monster in the jungle.

“I believe I'm to meet with Mrs. Sharpe,” Sheridan said.

Another male entered the room, this one a giant. Blond and with piercing blue eyes, he crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Why am I not surprised to hear her say that name?”

An older petite black woman entered the room and approached Jules and Sheridan. “Ah, you must be Sheridan Keyes. I'm pleased you found us.” Jules nodded at mention of her name and gave Sheridan a narrow-eyed stare that seemed to strip her bare.

She gave a subtle tug, and he slowly released her arm. “Mrs. Sharpe?” she asked in a breathy voice, wishing she sounded more at ease.

“That's me. I take it Admiral London gave you the necessary paperwork?”

“Yes.” She reached into her large carryall and found the folder Grayson had procured for her. “Here it is.”

Mrs. Sharpe took the stack and quickly peered through it. “Perfect. Now, Ms. Keyes—”

“Please, call me Sheridan.”

“Sheridan, let me introduce you to the team.”

“Sheridan Keyes,” Jules repeated in a low voice. His silver eyes blazed as he studied her. “You look very, very familiar.”

He ran a hand over his face; her grandfather's sapphire winked back at her.

Warmth unfurled. He hadn't taken it off. Again, she felt the rightness of seeing it there on his finger. Something flashed in his eyes as he looked back at her, a glimpse of the beast beneath his skin. To her astonishment, her entire body locked up in a searing lust that made her feel very unlike herself.

Good Lord, what is going on with me?

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, though he took a step back from her. She didn't dare look below his waist, sure she'd see an answering response in him.

Another woman entered the room and interrupted the tense atmosphere. This woman was even more attractive than the other one and made Sheridan feel like the proverbial third wheel nobody wanted. She had light brown skin and the prettiest face Sheridan had ever seen.

The woman muttered in a husky voice, “Who's this?” The others returned their attention to Sheridan, silent, assessing. Dissecting.

Mrs. Sharpe brought Sheridan into the middle of the room. “Sheridan Keyes, our new doctor, for want of a better term. I'd like you to meet the team of Dawn Endeavor. I see you've already met Julian Hawkins.”

“Call me Jules,” Jules said in a husky voice Sheridan did her best to ignore.

Mrs. Sharpe brought her in front of each person. “This is Kisho Hayashi and his partner, Morgan Reynolds.” The Asian and the green-eyed hunk. They nodded politely.

Mrs. Sharpe continued as they moved along. “This is Ava, my assistant.” The brown-skinned woman who should have been a model. Unlike the others, Ava didn't tower over Sheridan. The one area where both of them were equal: height.

“Hi.” Ava frowned, though she didn't seem unwelcoming. More like confused, and Sheridan had her own confusion to deal with.

“Hello,” she answered before they moved in front of the handsome couple.

“This is Jesse Fallon, and Jesse's wife, Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia murmured. Sheridan had the urge to step back, though she couldn't have said why. Her psychic ability was limited to healing the flesh, but she could almost feel a hum of odd energy around the tall woman, and it scared her.

Mrs. Sharpe, to Sheridan's good fortune, stepped between them before Olivia could hold out a hand. “And this is Gunnar Tersch. He looks mean, but he won't bite.”

The others chuckled, but Gunnar scowled. Bite? He looked like he could devour Sheridan in one large gulp.

“Thanks, Alicia. You're a peach.” He turned his gaze on Sheridan and winked.

“Call me Tersch, honey.”

Mrs. Sharpe rolled her eyes.

Ava scowled, and Sheridan had the sense the woman had staked a claim. Not that Sheridan had any intention of honing in on the giant. She just wanted to be able to trust in her instincts once more and to get her ring back. Period. End of story.

She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you all. I hope I can be of help while I'm here.”

“While you're here? You're not planning on staying?” Jules said from directly behind her.

She could feel his body heat near her, and she itched to touch him again. Not to heal, to feel.

Sheridan swallowed a yelp and coughed nervously. “Ah, yes, I'm staying. I just meant I'm here to help,” she added lamely. Oh boy. Put her in a laboratory with plants that didn't talk back or scientists who wanted to discuss meristematic cells and chloroplasts, and she was the life of the party. But socially, Sheridan couldn't hang. She wasn't shy, just inept at making conversation. An oddball even among oddballs.

Mrs. Sharpe patted her on the back, and she flinched. “I know everyone can be overwhelming at first.”

“Yeah, a party with five larger-than-life monsters is always a treat. Oh, sorry, Olivia, I forgot about you,” Tersch rumbled with a grin. “Make that six monsters.” Olivia shook her head, and Sheridan stared, wide-eyed. The woman was a Circ as well? “You're all Circs?”

“Not me,” Ava said. “I'm just the hired help.”

“And I'm mostly human,” Morgan added with a grin.

She didn't know whether to believe him or not.

Mrs. Sharpe explained, “Ava's my assistant. We also have Melissa and Jack Keiser on staff. Melissa's our cook; Jack's our handyman.”

“Okay.”

“And as you've met the team, I think we'll let you get settled in before we hit you with more. Ava, why don't you show Sheridan upstairs? She'll stay in the guest wing. We can show you the laboratory tomorrow, Sheridan, if you like. It's late, and I'm sure you're tired.”

Sheridan grabbed the excuse and held tight. Despite their shared past, she hadn't expected to feel so much upon seeing Jules again, and she needed time to catalog and process her feelings. “Yes, I am. A long drive, you know.”

“I'll take her upstairs,” Jules volunteered.

“Ah, that's okay—”

Mrs. Sharpe nodded. “Actually, that's a better idea. Ava, you can help me with Mr. Anderson. I can't find the paperwork on that funding issue we need taken care of. Gunnar? Would you be so kind as to get Sheridan's things from her car?”

“Sure, Alicia,” he drawled. “Hell, why don't we just open a fucking hotel? First Olivia, then Morgan, now a looker with big blue eyes. Just what we need around here—more women. Ava's bad enough.” He huffed and sneered at Morgan.

“Really, Gunnar.” Mrs. Sharpe's disapproval rang loud and clear.

“Did you just call me a woman?” Morgan growled, affronted.

The others smiled widely and laughed. Ava beamed at Tersch before following Mrs. Sharpe from the room. It seemed almost everyone encouraged his rudeness, while no one seemed easy with her being there. Terrific.

“Sheridan Keyes, in the flesh. What a pleasure,” Jules rasped and drew closer.

“You know, I'd swear we've met before.”

“Wow, talk about a zing. Fallon, you feeling what I'm feeling?” Sheridan heard Olivia ask her husband in a low voice.

“Yeah, and you wouldn't believe what's in his head.”

“Fuck off, Fallon. Olivia, butt out,” Jules growled.

Not understanding the undercurrents in the room, Sheridan tried to step back and found her way blocked by Gunnar.

“I'll need your keys, honey.” He held out a huge hand.

She stared from his hand to his ice blue eyes before dropping her keys into his palm, careful to make minimal contact.

He turned and walked away.

“I didn't bring much,” she blurted to Tersch's disappearing back and looked up at Jules. During their weeks apart, she'd tried like hell to convince herself that the chemistry hadn't been strong between them. That the danger had spiked her responses. If only.

“Don't worry. I'm sure we can find you exactly what you need while you're with us,” Jules answered in a soft voice.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. “Er, right. Sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping the subtle move disguised her hardened nipples.

“Come with me.”

She bit her lip but hurriedly smoothed out the gesture with a wobbly smile when she noted the others staring at her. She nodded to them. “Nice meeting you all.”

“Yeah, nice,” Fallon said with a toothy grin. She blinked. Were those fangs?

“Sheridan?” Jules waited at the entrance to the room.

She hurried to follow him.

As he walked, he talked about the house and grounds. He kept pace with her, making her feel downright tiny by comparison. His muscles were just as big as she remembered, his handsome face just as attractive as she feared. Those mesmerizing eyes, those firm lips. His talented mouth that had set her on fire.

When he stopped talking, she realized he was watching her watch him, an intent look on his face.

She blushed and glanced away. “Um, so you said this hall leads to the back stairs?”

“Yeah. It's the main drag. Follow this back the way we came to the kitchen and family room. Farther down is Mrs. Sharpe's study, and past that, off to the left, is the pool. Then ahead of us, there's the gym.” He pointed to a set of double doors.

If Raul was to be believed, these people were good at thieving, because this place was unbelievable. Their own gym? Their own pool? And they said they worked for the government? Please. She'd known scientists who worked for the government, and funding was always an issue. Then again, Julian Hawkins could do what only a handful of people in the world could do—transform into a creature with strength, stamina, and the ability to kill with ease.

Apparently, people paid a lot for those abilities. Her stomach hurt at the thought she'd really been so wrong about him.

She shivered and took a step away from him.

He frowned but said nothing.

She pointed at another door at the end of the hallway. “So where does that lead?”

“That leads to the basement, where your lab is located.” My lab. Right. “I'm not actually a doctor,” she emphasized. “I'm very good at what I do, but I heal using alternative means.” He glanced down at her hands, then lifted a heated stare to her eyes. “Laying of hands?”

She imagined the feel of his thick shaft between her palms as if she'd held him just yesterday. And like that, she wanted him all over again. Not smart, Sheridan, not at all.

He closed the distance between them, and she backed up until she hit the wall.

“Such big blue eyes,” he murmured. Then he frowned and stepped back. He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded to the right. “Let's go up.” Shaky, she followed him, and this time he made no attempt to walk next to her. Instead, he seemed content to put some space between them. What the hell had that been about? They reached the second floor, an expansive marble-tiled corridor with doors and hallways that branched off to the back of the house.

“My team lives down here.” He pointed to the wing where several doors remained open. “We're a family unit. We trust one another, and we respect each other's privacy,” he said quietly, but she understood.

“I have no intention of going where I'm not wanted.” He didn't say anything for a moment, yet she had the notion he wanted to.

“Come on.”

They continued down the main hallway and stopped at the veranda lit by a crystal chandelier that overlooked the foyer downstairs. Across from the veranda was another long hall filled with doors.

“This wing is for guests, and where you'll be staying. You're the only guest we have right now, so it's pretty empty.” They turned and walked down the hall. She followed him into a large suite done in a soft rose. The room had a large window that looked out over a courtyard and garden and a door that connected to another room.

Following her gaze, Jules added, “That door leads to your own bathroom.

That's why you have this room, in case you were wondering. Some of the other rooms share a bath.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

To one side of the massive room, a small living area decorated in floral fabrics looked inviting and boasted a loveseat, accompanying chairs, and a coffee table. To the left of the sitting area, a small mahogany desk lay empty. Across the room, a king-size canopy bed took up a lot of space.

When she glanced back at Jules, she saw him eye her, then the bed.

“Kind of big for you, hmm?”

She wanted to answer but had no idea what she might have said.

He shocked her by grabbing hold of her shoulders and drawing her close. “You smell like her, look like her, and feel like her,” he murmured. He ran his hands down her arms to her waist and squeezed. “God, do you feel like her.”

“Like who?” she managed, even as her body turned to liquid heat.

“Like the woman he thinks is mine.”

“What?”

“Shit, if you're working for Montaña, I'm going to seriously regret this.” He made no sense, but then she didn't much care. Because he did what she feared more than anything else.

He kissed her.