Once inside, Zach led her to the sofa in the corner. She sat down, still trying to absorb his words. He’d told Danville she was the best recruit? He’d told Danville? No way. It wasn’t possible.

“But you hate me,” she said, glancing up at him.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a decent facsimile of a smile. “Yeah. More and more each day. That’s why I rode you so hard, Sanders. To make you drop out.”

“Well, wasn’t that the reason? You said women make crummy agents.”

“I said women had problems they had to overcome. You only heard what you wanted to hear. You made it personal, Sanders. You always do.”

Moving with the liquid grace she’d always admired, he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. They both had long legs. Her knees were together; his were apart. If she slid to the edge of her seat, her knees would brush against his inner thighs. The intimacy of their positions startled her. Suddenly it was difficult to breathe.

Zach didn’t seem to notice. He leaned closer and grabbed her right hand. He stared at the raw sores on her wrist.

“Hurt?” he asked.

“Yeah. They gave me a medicated cream. It should help me heal pretty quickly, and I probably won’t have a scar.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle…as it had been in the jungle. His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a powerful current humming up her arm. She felt her eyes widen and she glanced down so Zach wouldn’t see.

No, she told herself. She wouldn’t make a fool of herself in front of him. He must never know that she admired and respected him, and that she had spent countless hours of training seminars staring at his butt.

He released her hand, and she nearly whimpered in protest.

“I wasn’t pleased about having a woman in my class,” he said. “I’d had them before. Too much work and trouble. They slept with all the guys and stirred up resentments. Besides, only one had ever passed the obstacle course in the time allowed.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“You worked your butt off for it, Sanders, and I respected that. You know when I knew you were going to make it?”

He respected her? The elation was powerful enough to make her giddy. She kept her gaze firmly on the small square of carpet visible between their feet and struggled for control.

“No, sir,” she said quietly.

“When I came out of the forest on a run one morning and saw you practicing. Sleep is a premium during training, but you gave up some so you could practice. Why do you think I helped you in the gym?”

She looked at his face. “You helped me? On purpose?”

He shrugged. “You had determination. I wanted you to succeed.”

“But you were so hard on me.”

“I was hard on everyone, Sanders. Who do you think granted your appeal on the obstacle course?”

She stared at him. Had she been misreading him the whole time? She thought for a moment, then voiced the question that had troubled her for days. “Did you really request me on the mission?”

“Yes, and I’m glad I did.”

He stood up and in the blink of an eye, the pleasant man she’d been speaking with disappeared. He placed his hands on his hips and glared down at her. “What the hell were you thinking? You let some snot-nose macho kid take charge when you knew he was wrong?”

His quick change in personality left her gasping. “I…I…”

“Well? Explain it. You’re smarter than most of the agents. They’re not going to like you for it, Sanders. So what? Get over it. Do your job. You’re no good to the agency if you’re dead.”

She sprang to her feet. “I made a mistake.”

“You’re not allowed mistakes. Why did you do it?”

“I thought I could keep track of where we were.”

He leaned toward her. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I-” Her eyes began to burn. Dammit, he wasn’t going to make her cry. “Rick’s a friend of mine. I didn’t want to make him feel bad, okay?”

“Not okay.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

“Never okay. If you know you’re right, be right. Follow your instincts. When the skin on the back of your neck crawls, do something about it. If Rick or any other man is heading in the wrong direction, speak up. Use your brain, your intuition and every other ability you’ve been given. Because if you don’t, you die.”

She swallowed hard. “I was confused. I didn’t know why he was acting like that.”

Zach leaned closer, until she could feel his breath on her face. “He acted like a jerk because I ordered him to. It was a test and you failed.”

She brought her hands up and knocked them against his forearms, pushing his hands off her shoulders. She stepped back because the alternative was to slug him high and hard in the rib cage, just as her track coach had taught her. One part of her mind noted that Zach let her break his hold. She knew he could have taken her easily.

“Bastard,” she said, her voice low and angry. “Who gave you the right to play games with my life?”

“My job. I suspected this would be a weakness for you. You failed the test this time, Sanders, but you’ll never fail it again.”

She was speechless. Betrayal, pain and anger all swirled together. He’d set her up. Worse, he’d used a friend to do it, damn him.

“Get out,” she ordered.

“Not yet. There’s one more piece of business we have to discuss.”

“I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Don’t blame Estes.”

She glared at him. “I don’t blame Rick. I blame you.”

She turned away and walked to the window. From here she had a view of the capitol, but she couldn’t see the historical building or even the traffic snarling below. She couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that Zach had set her up.

She wasn’t mad at Rick. He’d just been following orders. But Zach. She’d hoped for something else from him. She grimaced and stared at the view. Funny how the broken dreams still had the power to hurt her.

“I did it because you can be more,” he said quietly. “You can be the best. Rick will stay with explosives. He’ll be a good man to have on a team, but he’ll never do the thinking.”

“Oh, and I will?”

“Maybe. Go ahead and be mad at me all you want. Just don’t forget what you learned. Next time I might not be there to rescue you.”

“May I remind you, Agent Jones, that I’m the one who saved your sorry hide?”

“I know.”

His voice was gentle. Too gentle. She felt her defenses slipping away. She tried to hold on to her anger, but it faded, leaving her vulnerable.

She didn’t hear him move, but she sensed him come up behind her. She stiffened.

“You have to deal with it,” he said softly. “Now. Or it’ll eat you up inside.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m not going to think about it.”

“That’s what the psychiatrist told me you’d said.”

“So much for confidential patient information.”

“You aren’t a patient. You were being debriefed. Dammit, Jamie, you killed one man and watched another die. You have to talk about it.”

She would have been fine if he hadn’t called her Jamie. “You never said my name before,” she whispered.

“Sorry. Sanders.”

“No, ‘Jamie’ is fine. I-Do we have to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. She didn’t want to even think about it. The horror was too great. Seventy-two hours later, she could still see the man falling to the ground. She could still feel the recoil of the pistol and the way her stomach had clenched and rebelled. She could see Havers’s body lying there.

When she’d spoken with the agency psychiatrist, she’d answered questions about the mission and her part in it. When the elderly man had tried to bring up the killing, Jamie hadn’t wanted to talk about it. She still didn’t.

“It wasn’t what you thought,” Zach said, still standing behind her. “You imagined killing someone, but it was different.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

She’d slammed the door shut on those thoughts, but his words opened it a crack. The first flicker of feeling swept through her, and she shuddered.

“You’re surprised because the killing is easy. It’s the forgetting that’s so hard.”

She turned to face him. He was close enough to touch. Large and looming, but he didn’t frighten her. Not anymore. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been there, Jamie. I want to tell you it gets easier. In a way, it does. But just when you think you won’t have to pay a price again, a death will hit you hard. Then you deal with it all over again.”

She had thought of him as uncaring, mean-spirited, even cruel. But at this moment, he was the kindest man she’d ever known.

“I can’t close my eyes,” she said. “I don’t see him falling anymore. But I can’t sleep. I’m afraid I’ll dream. I’m not sorry he’s dead. I just didn’t think-”

Zach reached up and stroked her face. His fingers brushed away tears. She touched her other cheek, shocked she was crying.

She spun away. “I’m sorry. I never cry.” She blinked hard, but the tears continued to fall.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m stronger than this.” She tried to control her breathing. It didn’t help. A sob caught her off guard. She clutched the window frame.

“You don’t have to be tough all the time,” he said.

“Yeah, I do. I can’t-” Oh, God, she couldn’t break down in front of Zach. “Please leave,” she murmured.

Instead of leaving, he put his hands on her shoulders. She tried to shrug him off, but he ignored her efforts. He turned her and gathered her close, pulling her into his embrace.

She resisted, hating her weakness, hating herself for wanting to give in and borrow his strength.

“Hush, Jamie,” he said softly. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

He knew her better than she knew herself. A sob overtook her, and she sagged against him. His arms came around her. He held her tightly, as if he feared she might be torn away from him. She cried until she was drained and empty.

Gradually she became aware of his body close to hers. Somehow during her outburst, he’d moved them both to the sofa. He was sitting in the corner with her curled up next to him. His arms held her close. She could hear the steady sound of his heart and feel the rise and fall of his chest. He smelled masculine and tempting. Very tempting.

The first trickle of desire was easily explained away. The second was more difficult. Then the trickle turned into a flood and she had to stiffen to keep from reaching out to him. Without thinking, without wanting to, she raised her head to look at him.

His dark eyes brightened with a fire she’d never seen before. A muscle twitched in his cheek.

“Dammit, Jamie, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“As if I’m some kind of hero. You were right when you said I was a bastard.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you do. You don’t want this.”

She wasn’t sure what the “this” was, but she was pretty sure she did want it. She’d never felt this way before. Guys had always been friends and amusing companions. She had more in common with them than with women. But she’d never felt the need to-

Slowly, cautiously, knowing he might turn on her at any moment, she raised her hand toward his face. Using just the tips of her fingers, she touched his jaw. It was midafternoon. She could feel the heat of him, and the prickling of stubble.

He grabbed her hand. This time his grip punished. He squeezed her fingers until she thought her bones might crack. But instead of pushing her away, he brought her palm to his mouth and kissed her sensitive skin.

She felt the fire all the way down to her toes. Her breath caught in her throat. Her breasts, which had never been more than a nuisance before, swelled and she began to sense the possibilities. Between her thighs, a different kind of heat formed and grew, leaving her feeling both bold and weak.

Zach bit the soft skin of her palm, then used his tongue to soothe the wound. He released her, then leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

“The first damn day,” he muttered. “I spend six months avoiding this, and the first day you aren’t my responsibility, I blow it.” He swore again.

Blow it? Avoiding it? She stared at him. “You’ve wanted to have sex with me for six months?”

He grabbed her hand again, but this time he brought it to his crotch. She felt the long, hard desire there. Of course, she knew the mechanics of what went on. She’d seen naked men before. In high school, she’d had to walk through the boys’ locker room to get to the weights, and the teenagers often flashed her. But she’d never been impressed or interested. Until now.

Everything clicked into place. They’d both wanted the same thing and they’d both done their best to avoid it.

Zach started to stand up. Without thinking, Jamie shifted until she straddled him. She pressed against him to hold him in place. “Don’t go,” she said. “Please. I-”