"Well?" Ree challenged once the agents had left. "Nothing's stopping you
now. Go ahead."
"Fine. All cards on the table then," Jack responded, planting his hands on the desk and leaning in towards her. "What the hell are you doing with all of these . pictures . of me? And I don't want any damn stories about dreams you've had!"
"Oh really?" she said, slamming up out of her chair. "Well, I'm afraid you're just going to have to deal with it." She stalked across the room to a bookcase with rows of sketchpads and journals and started pulling them out by the handful. Returning to the table she began opening them at random and slapping them down one by one. "There. There. There. You want to read the journals, too?" Any embarrassment she might have felt over sharing such personal things with a stranger was overpowered by her frustration and anger. "Anything else you want to see? Don't be shy. Here, read this one!" She opened a journal and thrust it at him, only to pull it back as she remembered just what had happened in that particular dream. Turned out she could still feel embarrassment after all. "Okay, maybe not that one, but here, here's another!"
Jack stared in shock at the pictures of himself spilled out across the table. He looked down at the journal in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read whatever was written on the pages.
Ree banged the last of the sketchbooks down, knocking some of the loose pictures onto the floor. The flutter of paper seemed to bring her back to herself. She stood there, red-faced and slightly out of breath, noticing a stray curl that had escaped from her braid trailing across her cheek and feeling as if all the air had suddenly been let out of her.
She looked at the papers and books covering the desk and spilling onto the chairs and floor. "Oh God," she said quietly, "what have I just done?"
"Convinced me, for one," Jack said, still staring at himself in various poses and moods. He seemed particularly struck by one which caught his face in mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. "This one. I can't remember when I last laughed like that," he said musingly, "A long, long time ago."
The poignancy of his expression tore at her heart and without thinking she reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked away from her hand, giving her a look that bordered on disgust.
"Oh God!" she said in horror, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I should never have. It's just you look so much like him."
He just stood there watching her silently.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "You must think I'm absolutely crazy." She moved to the side of the desk farthest from him and began gathering up some of the wreckage from her tantrum.
"I don't know what I think," Jack said quietly, looking a bit unnerved by the events. "All of this." He shook his head and started putting some of the chaos back into order with her.
After a moment he stopped and looked over at her. "Dreams?" he said curiously. "How long have you been having these dreams about. me?"
"About twelve years," she said in a subdued tone. "And I don't know that they are about you, but whoever it is -"
"Looks a hell of a lot like me," Jack finished.
She nodded, glancing up at him to try to read his expression without much success.
"Perhaps I could. look at some of this again at another time?" he asked cautiously.
She flushed, then nodded - if a bit reluctantly. "I suppose it's only fair. But."
"Only what you're comfortable showing me."
She nodded again, then looked up at him resignedly, "We're not going to get a workable sketch, are we?"
His mouth twisted slightly, "My description doesn't seem to be translating into something you can use." He paused as if considering an idea. "How do you feel about a trip to France?"
Her eyebrows rose up almost into her hairline. "Excuse me?"
"I think I can arrange for you to see him at the next meet, but it would involve you coming to France. I assume you'd be able to draw an accurate sketch if you got a good look at him?"
"Ye-es," she said hesitantly.
"Good. Then I'll make the arrangements and get back to you." He replaced the sketchbooks and journals on the table and started for the door. He turned back as he reached it. "Thank you. It was. interesting. meeting you."
And he was gone.
Ree sank down into the closest chair, letting the pictures fall back to the table. What the hell had just happened?
********************
She was sure to have all betraying pictures carefully tucked away before his visit the next day. He'd gotten word to her that he'd be coming by to discuss this trip to France that she'd gotten roped into. Somehow, though, she found herself feeling unprepared when he knocked at the door.
It might have had something to do with the fact that she'd felt the need to change three times before she was satisfied with what she was wearing. Or with the fact that their meeting yesterday had played itself over and over again in her mind, making it almost impossible for her to get any sleep. Whatever the case, she jumped at his knock, feeling her heart race at the thought of seeing him again.
"Don't be stupid, Ree," she muttered under her breath, "He's not the guy from your dreams. He just looks like him. Although. there is something about him." She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.
To a smiling Jack Bristow.
This was not something she'd expected from any of the scenarios she'd imagined for their next meeting. She stared at him, stunned at the effect it made on his whole. aura, for lack of a better word.
He stepped in closer, his gaze softening and dropping to her lips. "I'm being followed," he murmured, reaching out to take one of her hands in his. "Play along and we'll get into the house where we can't be seen."
He raised his free hand to caress her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. "It'll be all right," he whispered just before their lips touched.
He'd intended for it to be a brief brush of lips and was completely unprepared for the heat that sprang up between them. He pulled his head back in shock, then made the mistake of looking into her eyes. The vulnerability and surprised desire he saw there had him dipping his head again to hers against his better judgement.
This time the kiss was harder, darker, more urgent. When she opened her mouth under his he felt his own desire flare out of control. He backed her through the door, kicking it closed behind him, and pinned her against the wall. His hands came up to her head, angling it to give him better access to the depths of her mouth.
Ree couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except respond blindly. She could feel every inch of his body against hers. Her hands slipped under his suit jacket, running up the taut strong muscles of his back. She pulled him even closer, tipping her hips up to cradle his arousal. He shuddered under her touch as her fingers found their way under his shirt and onto bare flesh.
His own hands slid under her shirt, shoving it up to expose her breasts. As he stroked and caressed her through the silken material of her bra, her head fell back and she gasped for breath. He pushed the material up, not wanting to take the time to undo it and cupped her breasts in his large hands for a moment before bending his head to take one into his mouth.
Her knees buckled at the warm, wet feel of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue over her nipple. He surged against her, holding her up with his own body. The sensations were exquisitely pleasurable, leaving her unable to do anything but hold his head to her breast.
The ringing of the phone broke them out of the spell of their passion, but for a moment neither was able to move. Jack pulled himself away first, running an unsteady hand through his hair.
Ree felt absolutely shattered. She watched him turn his back on her and stalk away while she fought to clear her head. The quick, rough sound of their breathing made a strange counterpoint to the ringing of the phone.
She stared at his back, watching him struggle to regain control, wondering how he'd found the strength to move. It wasn't until she heard her own voice as the answering machine picked up that she realized she was still standing there exposed. She pulled everything back into place with trembling hands and tried to collect her thoughts - find something to say. Her own voice was followed by that of some woman asking for more information about her portrait services.
As the message ended, Ree looked over and met Jack's eyes. The taut skin over his cheekbones was still flushed with passion - and she thought, as his eyes fell away from hers, perhaps some embarrassment as well.
"This shouldn't have happened," he said harshly. "I don't know." He stopped himself, shaking his head. "That's irrelevant for the time being. I should apologize. I was being observed and thought I could use the opportunity to begin establishing the cover we'll be using in France. I didn't intend for it to get so. out of hand."
"Should apologize?" Ree questioned smoothly. "Should, but aren't going to?"
He met her eyes again, anger flaring alongside the smoldering passion. "I'm not here to play word games with you, Ms. Ash."
She raised her eyebrows. "Ree, please." It seemed as if some part of her had decided that cool superiority was her best defense at the moment. At the same time, another part of her was thinking, damn. The dreams were never this wild.
"Ree," he said icily, "let's get down to business before any more . unfortunate accidents occur, shall we?"
Accidents? She controlled her anger at the choice of words. After all, what would she have preferred him to do or say? Declare his undying love? She shook her head at her own foolishness. "Go ahead," she said finally. "Let's get this over with."
"Fine." Jack took a moment to collect himself, unaware of how sexy he appeared to her with half of his shirt still untucked and hanging out below his jacket. Thoroughly mussed, she mused and had to force her attention back to his words as he began speaking.
"We leave this afternoon on a plane to Paris. I have a meet set up for tomorrow afternoon, which you will conveniently stumble into. I'll rush you off; we'll have a short tender exchange in view of his guards, and I'll send you on your way with promises to return to you at our hotel shortly. Then I'll return to the meeting with some embarrassed apologies for the interruption, and." he shrugged, "the rest will follow naturally from there."
She nodded, "Sounds simple enough. And then we meet back at the hotel for appearance's sake and get the hell out of Dodge as quickly as we can manage."
"Exactly. Any questions?"
"Just one." She looked him square in the eye, "Are you going to be able to handle this 'tender' bit? Because based on what you've shown me so far."
He glared at her for a moment. "I'll handle it just fine. You simply worry about yourself. I'll pick you up at 2:30 this afternoon. Be ready." He turned to stalk out the door, but she stopped him.
"Jack?"
"Yes?" he said tightly, glancing back over his shoulder at her.
"Um, you might want to, uh. straighten up a bit before you go?"
He glanced down, noticing his untucked shirt for the first time, and flushed yet again.
"On the other hand," she said a bit snidely, "maybe you ought to leave it alone. It'll add - what's the word? - 'verisimilitude' to our cover."
He threw her another quick glare and headed out the door without another word, tucking his shirt in as he went.
Great, she thought as she watched him go. This makes twice in two days that I've stood here like an idiot wondering what in the hell just happened.
She shook her head again and headed upstairs to pack for Paris.
"Fine. All cards on the table then," Jack responded, planting his hands on the desk and leaning in towards her. "What the hell are you doing with all of these . pictures . of me? And I don't want any damn stories about dreams you've had!"
"Oh really?" she said, slamming up out of her chair. "Well, I'm afraid you're just going to have to deal with it." She stalked across the room to a bookcase with rows of sketchpads and journals and started pulling them out by the handful. Returning to the table she began opening them at random and slapping them down one by one. "There. There. There. You want to read the journals, too?" Any embarrassment she might have felt over sharing such personal things with a stranger was overpowered by her frustration and anger. "Anything else you want to see? Don't be shy. Here, read this one!" She opened a journal and thrust it at him, only to pull it back as she remembered just what had happened in that particular dream. Turned out she could still feel embarrassment after all. "Okay, maybe not that one, but here, here's another!"
Jack stared in shock at the pictures of himself spilled out across the table. He looked down at the journal in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read whatever was written on the pages.
Ree banged the last of the sketchbooks down, knocking some of the loose pictures onto the floor. The flutter of paper seemed to bring her back to herself. She stood there, red-faced and slightly out of breath, noticing a stray curl that had escaped from her braid trailing across her cheek and feeling as if all the air had suddenly been let out of her.
She looked at the papers and books covering the desk and spilling onto the chairs and floor. "Oh God," she said quietly, "what have I just done?"
"Convinced me, for one," Jack said, still staring at himself in various poses and moods. He seemed particularly struck by one which caught his face in mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. "This one. I can't remember when I last laughed like that," he said musingly, "A long, long time ago."
The poignancy of his expression tore at her heart and without thinking she reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked away from her hand, giving her a look that bordered on disgust.
"Oh God!" she said in horror, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I should never have. It's just you look so much like him."
He just stood there watching her silently.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "You must think I'm absolutely crazy." She moved to the side of the desk farthest from him and began gathering up some of the wreckage from her tantrum.
"I don't know what I think," Jack said quietly, looking a bit unnerved by the events. "All of this." He shook his head and started putting some of the chaos back into order with her.
After a moment he stopped and looked over at her. "Dreams?" he said curiously. "How long have you been having these dreams about. me?"
"About twelve years," she said in a subdued tone. "And I don't know that they are about you, but whoever it is -"
"Looks a hell of a lot like me," Jack finished.
She nodded, glancing up at him to try to read his expression without much success.
"Perhaps I could. look at some of this again at another time?" he asked cautiously.
She flushed, then nodded - if a bit reluctantly. "I suppose it's only fair. But."
"Only what you're comfortable showing me."
She nodded again, then looked up at him resignedly, "We're not going to get a workable sketch, are we?"
His mouth twisted slightly, "My description doesn't seem to be translating into something you can use." He paused as if considering an idea. "How do you feel about a trip to France?"
Her eyebrows rose up almost into her hairline. "Excuse me?"
"I think I can arrange for you to see him at the next meet, but it would involve you coming to France. I assume you'd be able to draw an accurate sketch if you got a good look at him?"
"Ye-es," she said hesitantly.
"Good. Then I'll make the arrangements and get back to you." He replaced the sketchbooks and journals on the table and started for the door. He turned back as he reached it. "Thank you. It was. interesting. meeting you."
And he was gone.
Ree sank down into the closest chair, letting the pictures fall back to the table. What the hell had just happened?
********************
She was sure to have all betraying pictures carefully tucked away before his visit the next day. He'd gotten word to her that he'd be coming by to discuss this trip to France that she'd gotten roped into. Somehow, though, she found herself feeling unprepared when he knocked at the door.
It might have had something to do with the fact that she'd felt the need to change three times before she was satisfied with what she was wearing. Or with the fact that their meeting yesterday had played itself over and over again in her mind, making it almost impossible for her to get any sleep. Whatever the case, she jumped at his knock, feeling her heart race at the thought of seeing him again.
"Don't be stupid, Ree," she muttered under her breath, "He's not the guy from your dreams. He just looks like him. Although. there is something about him." She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.
To a smiling Jack Bristow.
This was not something she'd expected from any of the scenarios she'd imagined for their next meeting. She stared at him, stunned at the effect it made on his whole. aura, for lack of a better word.
He stepped in closer, his gaze softening and dropping to her lips. "I'm being followed," he murmured, reaching out to take one of her hands in his. "Play along and we'll get into the house where we can't be seen."
He raised his free hand to caress her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. "It'll be all right," he whispered just before their lips touched.
He'd intended for it to be a brief brush of lips and was completely unprepared for the heat that sprang up between them. He pulled his head back in shock, then made the mistake of looking into her eyes. The vulnerability and surprised desire he saw there had him dipping his head again to hers against his better judgement.
This time the kiss was harder, darker, more urgent. When she opened her mouth under his he felt his own desire flare out of control. He backed her through the door, kicking it closed behind him, and pinned her against the wall. His hands came up to her head, angling it to give him better access to the depths of her mouth.
Ree couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except respond blindly. She could feel every inch of his body against hers. Her hands slipped under his suit jacket, running up the taut strong muscles of his back. She pulled him even closer, tipping her hips up to cradle his arousal. He shuddered under her touch as her fingers found their way under his shirt and onto bare flesh.
His own hands slid under her shirt, shoving it up to expose her breasts. As he stroked and caressed her through the silken material of her bra, her head fell back and she gasped for breath. He pushed the material up, not wanting to take the time to undo it and cupped her breasts in his large hands for a moment before bending his head to take one into his mouth.
Her knees buckled at the warm, wet feel of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue over her nipple. He surged against her, holding her up with his own body. The sensations were exquisitely pleasurable, leaving her unable to do anything but hold his head to her breast.
The ringing of the phone broke them out of the spell of their passion, but for a moment neither was able to move. Jack pulled himself away first, running an unsteady hand through his hair.
Ree felt absolutely shattered. She watched him turn his back on her and stalk away while she fought to clear her head. The quick, rough sound of their breathing made a strange counterpoint to the ringing of the phone.
She stared at his back, watching him struggle to regain control, wondering how he'd found the strength to move. It wasn't until she heard her own voice as the answering machine picked up that she realized she was still standing there exposed. She pulled everything back into place with trembling hands and tried to collect her thoughts - find something to say. Her own voice was followed by that of some woman asking for more information about her portrait services.
As the message ended, Ree looked over and met Jack's eyes. The taut skin over his cheekbones was still flushed with passion - and she thought, as his eyes fell away from hers, perhaps some embarrassment as well.
"This shouldn't have happened," he said harshly. "I don't know." He stopped himself, shaking his head. "That's irrelevant for the time being. I should apologize. I was being observed and thought I could use the opportunity to begin establishing the cover we'll be using in France. I didn't intend for it to get so. out of hand."
"Should apologize?" Ree questioned smoothly. "Should, but aren't going to?"
He met her eyes again, anger flaring alongside the smoldering passion. "I'm not here to play word games with you, Ms. Ash."
She raised her eyebrows. "Ree, please." It seemed as if some part of her had decided that cool superiority was her best defense at the moment. At the same time, another part of her was thinking, damn. The dreams were never this wild.
"Ree," he said icily, "let's get down to business before any more . unfortunate accidents occur, shall we?"
Accidents? She controlled her anger at the choice of words. After all, what would she have preferred him to do or say? Declare his undying love? She shook her head at her own foolishness. "Go ahead," she said finally. "Let's get this over with."
"Fine." Jack took a moment to collect himself, unaware of how sexy he appeared to her with half of his shirt still untucked and hanging out below his jacket. Thoroughly mussed, she mused and had to force her attention back to his words as he began speaking.
"We leave this afternoon on a plane to Paris. I have a meet set up for tomorrow afternoon, which you will conveniently stumble into. I'll rush you off; we'll have a short tender exchange in view of his guards, and I'll send you on your way with promises to return to you at our hotel shortly. Then I'll return to the meeting with some embarrassed apologies for the interruption, and." he shrugged, "the rest will follow naturally from there."
She nodded, "Sounds simple enough. And then we meet back at the hotel for appearance's sake and get the hell out of Dodge as quickly as we can manage."
"Exactly. Any questions?"
"Just one." She looked him square in the eye, "Are you going to be able to handle this 'tender' bit? Because based on what you've shown me so far."
He glared at her for a moment. "I'll handle it just fine. You simply worry about yourself. I'll pick you up at 2:30 this afternoon. Be ready." He turned to stalk out the door, but she stopped him.
"Jack?"
"Yes?" he said tightly, glancing back over his shoulder at her.
"Um, you might want to, uh. straighten up a bit before you go?"
He glanced down, noticing his untucked shirt for the first time, and flushed yet again.
"On the other hand," she said a bit snidely, "maybe you ought to leave it alone. It'll add - what's the word? - 'verisimilitude' to our cover."
He threw her another quick glare and headed out the door without another word, tucking his shirt in as he went.
Great, she thought as she watched him go. This makes twice in two days that I've stood here like an idiot wondering what in the hell just happened.
She shook her head again and headed upstairs to pack for Paris.
