New York City, The Plaza Hotel...

"You can’t go back to that school in Port Charles, Bastian," the voice of Madison Kennedy said to him over the phone. "FBI are there."

"You’re certain?"

"Of course, I’m certain."

"I have to find that girl," Bastian insisted.

"You’re damn right, you do. I still can’t believe you gave her the numbers," Madison muttered.

Neither could he. Then again, Brenda was heavenly. Any man would have been rendered the fool when holding her so close in a dance and gazing into those beautiful, brown eyes. Still, damn it all, it had been the worst mistake he’d ever made, giving her that piece of paper.

"Which FBI drones have they sent after me this time?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Madison replied. "Just two more ineffectual, government robots, no doubt. I’m sure we can run circles around those blokes the way we always do. Just give me a few days to find out where they’re keeping the girl, and we’ll find her and get back the numbers and blow this hick town."

"Sounds like a plan," Bastian said, wondering if there was any way he could persuade the lovely Miss Barrett to blow this hick town with him and join him in his life of luxury and high-class criminal pursuits. "You just let me know where and when," Bastian added, as he hung up the phone.

Port Charles, NY…

Brenda was in the PCU cafeteria eating lunch. It had been three weeks since her life had been turned upside down, and she’d been living at the safe house with Special Agents Jacks and Wilkie. Eve being gone made life much better for Brenda, but proximity to Jax was making her life a wreck in other ways. She had such a burning desire for the man, and just looking at him sent that desire careening dangerously out of control. She had to physically restrain herself from touching him, or from the overwhelming urges she would have to kiss him whenever he was particularly near her. She had dreams about him all the time. Delicious, sensual dreams meant for the subconscious world only. Dreams that sometimes felt so real that she would wake up and expect to find him there in the bedroom with her. But that scenario was so unlikely as to be laughable. First of all, she wouldn’t know what to do in bed with any man, let alone one who she wanted more than she wanted air to breathe sometimes. Second of all, Jax barely spoke to her, barely looked at her, and went out of his way not to touch her.

Even now, he sat across from her at the lunch table reading the newspaper, ignoring her as she ate her lunch. Brenda couldn’t help but notice that it appeared as if all of the women - from the students to the cafeteria staff - were looking at him. Staring at him. It had been like this for the past three weeks. One day Scott would take her to PCU, stand right outside the door for all of her classes, sit with her at a table where no one else could sit at lunch, and then take her back to the safe house after her last class; and the next day, Jax would do the same routine. The days when Scott was with her were fun and carefree, while the days when Jax was with her seemed endless because he was so distant and uncommunicative, and yet, at the same time, those days seemed too short because she loved being around him. Even if he wasn’t saying a word to her or paying her the least bit of attention, the ability to look at him for long periods of time and have him near her was something she enjoyed very much.

Stirring her pasta salad distractedly, Brenda gazed across at Jax. His head was bent, his eyes downcast as he read the paper. He wore black jeans and an olive-colored shirt that fit him to perfection and gave tantalizing hints of the lean, muscular physique beneath. His sleeves were rolled up, his gun holster strapped across his shoulder. He wore black suede hiking boots - a brand that Brenda knew cost big bucks - and she was surprised that FBI agents got paid that well. She’d always heard that they didn’t get paid well at all. That regular police officers made a lot more money, in fact. She continued to gaze at Jax, who sat with one ankle crossed casually over his knee. He raked his hand through his blonde hair as she watched him and flipped the newspaper to the next page.

If she could fold her arms and blink her eyes and conjure up the man of her dreams, she knew he would look exactly like Jax. Not only would he look like him, he would be him. The man sitting across from her. The man who was ignoring her, she thought with an irritated, little sigh.

Jax felt her staring at him. She did that a lot lately. He didn’t want to glance up and meet those eyes of hers, however. He would be knocked off center by that, he knew this. And then, god help him, if she smiled at him on top of that...

He heard her fingernails tapping against the table top.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

He wanted to say no. He actually wanted her to stop talking. He was trying, with a fair amount of success over the past three weeks, to make himself immune to everything about her that he found so incredibly attractive, and hearing her beautiful voice was not helping his cause.

"Go ahead," he finally said, still not looking at her.

"Do I really have to eat alone like this all the time? Away from my friends and everybody?"

"You’re not alone," Jax replied, as he turned the page of the paper. "I’m here."

"Yeah, but you might as well be the invisible man," Brenda said. "You never talk to me."

"I’m talking to you now."

"Well, you never look at me," she pointed out.

Slowly, Jax’s eyes lifted upwards, over her snug, black shirt beneath the red, velvet vest, over her golden throat. Then they got to her face, and he felt the internal thud as his heart went ka-boom, and his eyes let out a silent wolf-whistle. He wondered in exasperation if she was always going to have this effect on him.

They shared a long, wordless gaze. Then she did it. She smiled at him.

Jax muttered a silent oath.

"Why does Scott call you by your last name?" she asked him, ridiculously excited that her Agent Adonis was actually looking at her. He so seldom did that.

"He doesn’t," Jax replied.

"Yes he does. He calls you Jacks," Brenda insisted.

"He calls me Jax. J -A - X," Jax corrected her. "It’s a nickname."

"Oh," she nodded. "I have a nickname for you, too," she mentioned.

He rose one eyebrow in curiosity, but refrained from the urge to ask her what that nickname was. He assumed it was something unflattering, and he didn’t want to hear that. Not from those beautiful lips. God, how he wanted her, he thought, closing his eyes momentarily.

She was disappointed that he seemed to have no interest in hearing her Agent Adonis nickname. "Can I call you Jax?" Brenda asked.

Jax looked at her. She was smiling again, and his heart was tilting dangerously.

"If you want to," he said, averting his eyes from her and going back to the paper. He should never had looked at her in the first place, he chastised himself. His heart still would not slow down.

"Every girl on campus wants to know who you and Scott are," Brenda told him. "I think a lot of them don’t buy Eve’s telling them that you’re FBI agents. Don’t you notice them staring at you all the time?"

"I notice everything," Jax responded, and she was disappointed by his refusal to look at her again. Did he truly find her such an insignificant, uninteresting bother that she didn’t even warrant occasional eye contact? How ironic that she could never stop staring at him, while he seemed content never to have to look at her.

"Do you think you were wrong?" Brenda asked him, wanting to keep their conversation going. "About Bastian Reese coming after me to get that paper back? It’s been three weeks already. Maybe he’s not going to . . ."

"He’ll come after you," Jax interrupted her, his tone certain as he dismissed her theory that Bastian had thrown in the towel and was willing to let go of a fortune.

"Jax, could you possibly participate a little bit in this conversation?" she asked, wanting him to look at her again.

He did. And her heart hammered with pleasant titillation as she found herself gazing into an ocean of seductive aquamarine.

"Why do we need to be having a conversation at all?" Jax countered.

"Because, you won’t let me talk to anyone else, except when I’m in classes. And because maybe I find you interesting, Jax. Maybe I want to know more about you."

"Why?"

"Because you’re…..intriguing," she said. "And I’m curious about you."

"Don’t be," Jax said, in that soft voice that made something melt inside of her.

Despite his rebuff, Brenda plunged right ahead. "Scott told me he was a Navy SEAL. Were you one, too?"

Jax was irritated by her persistence, but he admired it, too. And he was secretly pleased by her interest in him.

"Yes, I was," he told her. "We were on the same SEAL team."

"And now you’re with the FBI. That must seem tame in comparison to what you used to do."

Jax said nothing, although he found her assumption amusing. If she only knew how far removed from anything remotely normal in the FBI his unit was. Then again, his unit was not even known about by the general public. She couldn’t possibly know how close to the SEALs his duties now were, or why a case like this one was boring him out of his mind, were it not for the Bastian Reese factor….and her.

"You must like danger," she guessed, shooting him a pretty smile.

"I like challenges," he corrected her.

"I like your eyes," she said, throwing him off balance with the change in subject. "They’re very beautiful.

He had no idea how to react to the unexpected compliment that felt more like an ambush than anything else, for some off reason.

"And your eyelashes," she continued, taking a bite of her apple and gazing steadily at him. "They’re gorgeous. They’re so gold in the sunlight, and they’re really long for a guy."

"You should be careful," Jax warned her. "I beat up a kid in high school who told me I had eyelashes like a girl."

Brenda laughed. That same, pretty, infectious sound that Scott could get out of her in a heartbeat, but Jax never had until right this minute.

"What’s this?" she asked him, reaching across and tracing her fingertips along his wrist.

She was a little startled by the way Jax abruptly drew back from her touch and how his sparkling blue-green eyes seemed to turn a cool blue, as if it were some kind of defense mechanism.

He was frustrated by how reactionary he was to her.

"Its a USCG insignia," he said, gazing back down at the paper while he tried to nonchalantly get his pulse rate back to normal, after having been touched by her.

Brenda gazed at the dark blue USCG emblem embedded in the silver of the ID bracelet.

"USCG? she asked.

"Unites States Coast Guard," Jax said. "District 7 -- Miami."

"You were with the coast guard, too?" she asked, in shock at all of his accomplishments.

For a little while."

Is there anything you haven’t done?"

He didn’t answer her.

"Did you live in Miami?’ she asked him.

"Briefly," he responded.

She noticed that his answers were getting shorter and shorter. And he was making no attempt to look at her any longer.

"You wish I would stop talking to you, don’t you?" she guessed.

I wish you would kiss me, he thought. Aloud he said. "Your next class is in five minutes. We’d better go."

Brenda got up to dump her tray in the trash bin, and as she did so a group of five male students, who Jax recognized as members of Phi Beta Kappa, stopped near the table to admire her as she walked over to the garbage can.

"That girl can fill out a pair of jeans better than any female on this campus," one of the boys said. "It’s really too bad you’ll never get her out of those jeans, Roberts."

Clyde Andrew Roberts, Jr., whom everyone just called Drew, had his eyes glued to Brenda as he responded, "Want to bet? She already wants me. That birthday kiss she gave me back in October signaled that loud and clear. All I have to do is get her alone to let all of her passions for me run wild," he laughed. "You know the minute I saw her coming out of the student lounge that day, I made it may New Year's resolution that I was going to get her. And by my calculations, I still have a about a month and two weeks to fulfill that resolution."

"Get real, Drew. You can’t even get close to her now with those FBI guys stuck to her like glue."

"Well, they’re not gonna be stuck to her tomorrow," he said. "I’ve already invited her to our fraternity’s pre-Thanksgiving dinner. And she said she’ll be there, and the bodyguards won’t be," he grinned.

"What pre-Thanksgiving dinner?" another frat member asked. "I never heard about this.

"That’s because there is no such thing, Lance. But Brenda thinks there is, and she’ll be coming to my house, and we’ll be all alone, and trust me, the chemistry will be overheating. You know just one, long, endless night with her, and I would die a happy man."

Jax gazed at the brown-haired, hazel-eyed frat president. So this was Clyde Roberts, who obviously went by the name of Drew. The one who’s sole mission in life, according to Eve Lambert, was to go ‘where no man had gone before’ in regards to Brenda.

Jax got up from the table. All at once Drew felt a compelling presence behind him, and he turned around to find the blonde guy who was always with Brenda whenever the dark haired guy wasn’t.

"I can help you with the dying part," Jax said. "But it won’t be happy. Stay away from Brenda."

Drew assessed the blonde man carefully. He might be FBI, but everyone knew those government types were dorks. Besides, wasn’t the rumor that he was here to protect Brenda? Not act like some overprotective boyfriend.

"Yeah, whatever, ‘Fox Mulder.’ Thanks for the advice," Drew joked, blowing Jax off.

"It wasn’t advice," Jax told him. "It was a warning, and the only one you’ll ever get. If you go near her - if you so much as breathe on her - you’ll wish you were never born."

Drew swallowed at the calm seriousness of Jax’s tone, and his eyes nervously went to the gun in the holster that Jax was wearing.

"Who exactly are you?" Drew asked slowly. Suddenly Jax seemed like no kind of FBI person Drew had ever seen.

"Stay away from her," Jax repeated, and then he went over to the returning Brenda to steer her away from the frat boys and get her to her next class.

Later that night…

Jax and Scott were sitting at the table in the kitchen playing cards.

"I can’t believe we missed the new sub in-training session," Jax said, gazing over at CNN which was talking about the new subs. Then he gazed back at his hand of cards.

"I can’t believe it either. Donnelly hates us," Scott said. "We would have been able to test out the new amphibious gear, too. I swear, man, we better not miss the DPV in-training session or I will not be responsible for my actions."

Jax grinned, knowing how Scott loved those Desert Patrol Vehicles.

"There’s no way he would let us miss that one," Jax said. "Donnelly doesn’t hate us, exactly. I think he actually thinks we’re the best thing ever. But that makes him insecure, you know, ‘cause he’s an old timer and what not."

Scott chuckled. "Uh huh. He hates us, Jax. We blow up ships, we blow up Casino’s, he can’t fire us, we won’t quit . . ."

"Hey, as long as we don’t blow each other up, I think he should chill out and be grateful. You know, I wonder what’s taking Bastian Reese so long to try and track Brenda down," Jax murmured. "You know he’s got to be going crazy realizing what she has in her possession."

"I was thinking," Scott said, "you know in certain circles, our reputation precedes us, Jax, and if Bastian gets scooped that we’re the ones protecting Brenda, who knows if he’ll ever come near her?"

"I hardly think he’s a coward though," Jax said thoughtfully. "He’s got to get those numbers back so he’ll find a way to at least try. Plus, there’s no way he could find out that we’re the ones on this case. If he figures out FBI are involved he’s going to think it’s the regular, run-of-the-mill feds who no one would ever really fear. Our unit is too covert for him to even be aware of its existence, if you ask me." Then Jax changed the topic. "Scott, when you’re with Brenda at PCU, have you ever seen this guy with brown hair and hazel eyes trying to roll up on her? His name is Drew Roberts."

Scott nodded. "Oh, yeah, some frat fool who thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind and thinks that Brenda is God’s personal gift to him. He talks to her all the time."

Jax gazed at Scott. "You let him talk to her?"

Scott gazed back at him. "Sure."

"Well, don’t," Jax said.

Scott gave Jax a curious gaze. "Why the hell not? Jax, she’s not a prisoner here. We’re just here to protect her from one person. You know, this isolation is tough enough on her as it is, so when she’s at PCU I try to allow her to interact with her friends within reason. Besides, she likes the guy."

Jax’s eyes narrowed. "She does?"

Scott nodded.

"Well, how do you even know that?" Jax asked.

"She told me," Scott informed him.

Brenda chose that moment to walk out into the kitchen. The scent of her herbal shampoo was strong and ambrosial, and her hair was wet and slicked back into a pony tail. She wore a pair of black biker shorts and a long gray T- shirt.

Scott smiled at her. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Jax was momentarily stuck between gazing at her smooth, shapely legs and her perfect face. Then he finally just looked at his cards instead, privately wishing she would walk around here in a potato sack that went all the way down to her knees.

"Everything's fine," Brenda said, sliding into the seat in between them, but facing Jax more, annoyed to find that he was avoiding looking at her as usual. "I just wanted to remind you, Scott, that tomorrow is Wednesday, and you said that I could go to that dinner, remember?"

"What dinner?" Jax interrupted, finally glancing at her.

"Phi Beta Kappa is having a pre-Thanksgiving dinner," Brenda provided. "I was invited, and Scott said it would be okay for me to go."

"You can’t go," Jax said.

He exchanged a look with Scott that said ‘trust me.’ So Scott did.

"Why not?" Brenda demanded. "What does this even have to do with you anyway, Jax? Scott and I worked this out already. It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to spend Thanksgiving cooped up here with you guys – no offense – but there’s no reason I can’t do to the frat dinner. Everybody’s going. I’ll be perfectly safe there, it’s at Drew Roberts’ house, and his parents will be there."

Jax gave her an incredulous look. Did she really expect him to believe any parents would be there?

"Scott, you can be right outside the whole time watching the place," Brenda continued. "And besides Drew would never let anything happen to me . . ."

"You’re not going," Jax repeated, not swayed by anything she had just said.

She glared at him is disbelief. "I am!" she said.

Scott looked at her. "Brenda, you can’t. I’m sorry. Jax is right. It really would not be safe."

Brenda got up, her eyes sparkling with fury and the unfairness of it all. "But you said . . you said it would be safe, Scott. You said . . ."

"I was wrong," Scott said.

"No, you were not wrong! You’re just letting Jax bully you into . . ."

"Brenda, you’re not going. That is it," Jax said.

She heard the cool finality in his tone and saw the futility of arguing. She angrily stormed away from them both and into her bedroom, where she slammed the door so hard both men were surprised it didn’t fly off its hinges.

"She hates us," Scott said.

"Only me," Jax responded. "She’ll forgive you."

"Since when has she been calling you 'Jax'?" Scott wondered.

"Since this afternoon. She asked me if she could," Jax told him.

"What else did she ask you?" Scott asked with a sly smile. "You know she asks me a lot of questions about you, Jax. Don’t you find that . . . interesting?"

"Not especially," Jax murmured, letting him know he was not particularly receptive to this conversation.

"Do you mind telling me why you’re so against her going to this frat dinner thing?" Scott asked. "I’ll be there, Jax., Nothing will happen to her. I’ll keep her safe, and you know that. So what’s really going on?"

"Scott, there is no frat dinner. Drew Roberts is planning on setting up seduction central for Brenda. Nobody else is going to be there, but the two of them. He has only one agenda, and that is go get Brenda into his bed before the year is out. So he can die happy," Jax added sarcastically.

Scott gazed at Jax skeptically. "Did Eve Lambert tell you that?"

"She mentioned his intentions towards Brenda, yes. But I only believed it when I heard that moron bragging about it himself today. The only way he’s going to have her is in his dreams, because he isn’t getting anywhere near her."

Scott looked at Jax curiously. "Okay," he said. "You know, Jax, if you want, we can just take him out. Then we can take out all the other male personnel at her school. Then we can take out every other guy on the planet who might get it into his head to dare have the desire to go to bed with her."

Jax did not react one way or the other to his best friend’s grinning insinuation.

"It’s not what you think," Jax finally insisted. "We’re supposed to be keeping her safe . . . "

"Uh huh. Safe from Bastian Reese, Jax, not from panting boys who want her. You seem to want to protect her from everything. I would pity the bloody mosquito that dared to try to bite her, with you around," Scott laughed. "Jax, come on, man. I know you. I know what she’s doing to you. I know."

"What do you think you know?" Jax asked carefully.

"That you want her," Scott said, daring him to deny it. "And that even though you think you can’t have her, you don’t want anyone else to have her either."

Jax didn’t deny it. "It’s not that I think I can’t have her, I know that I can’t," Jax told him. "But every time she touches me, my rational thoughts seem to go right out the window."

"So I’ve noticed," Scott said casually. "I think it’s kinda cute."

Jax laughed. "I think it’s kind of appalling. When have you ever known me to lack self-control like this?"

Scott smiled. "Never. Although, actually I think you're doing remarkably well, under the circumstances. Anyway, just hang in there, Jax. We’re going to get Bastian soon, I can feel it."

"Me, too," Jax agreed.

"And then we’re gonna be outta here. You won’t ever have to see Brenda again," Scott added.

Jax nodded, staring at his cards.

"That doesn’t make you happy?" Scott asked, folding his hands behind his head.

When Jax took a long time in answering, Scott reached across and pulled the cards Jax was staring at out of his hands.

"Hey, you know what else I know, Jax?"

Jax scowled at him. "What?"

"That sitting on the boat dock in the back of your sprawling mansion on the hill in Virginia, is a gorgeous, white, cabin cruiser that’s going to belong to me any day now," Scott responded with a contented smile and a meaningful raise of his dark eyebrows.

Thanksgiving…

Brenda stared out the kitchen window moodily as she watched Jax checking the motion detectors surrounding the safe house. She was so mad at him. How he’d ruined all of her plans by forbidding her to go to the Phi Kappa Beta pre- Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. She was going to come back from that dinner party a woman. And now Jax had ruined that. She watched as Jax bent down to check something. As usual the sight of him made her pulse leap around and filled her with perplexing, maddening yearnings. She was so angry with him, and yet that didn't stop her from thinking he was sheer perfection. It didn't stop her heart from racing when he was near her, and pounding with hope that he might look at her. It didn’t stop her from shamelessly wanting him, or from secretly wishing it would be him who would usher her into the mysterious world of womanhood.

Scott had been apologizing to her, making bad turkey jokes, and trying to lighten her mood all day, but Jax had been doing what Jax always did: ignoring her, which was infuriating because all of her moods were his fault in the first place! He should be the one apologizing to her, not Scott.

The wind gusted outside, and Brenda couldn’t believe that Jax wasn’t wearing anything but jeans, a charcoal-colored shirt, and his dark blue, FBI issue windbreaker. He must be freezing, which pleased her for all of two minutes. Then she spun away from the window and went into the kitchen, where Scott was taking the Thanksgiving dinner Jax had picked up from a restaurant nearby, out of the bags and placing everything on the table.

"Where is Jax’s coat?" Brenda asked, folding her arms and looking annoyed.

"On the chair in the bedroom. Why?" Scott asked inquisitively.

"He’s such an idiot," Brenda said. "He’s outside, and he’s going to freeze to death."

"And this would bother you? I thought you hated him," Scott reminded her, with a clowning around smile.

"I . . . .do!" she insisted, as she went and got Jax’s black leather, hooded anorak and went outside.

"Yes, of course you do," Scott murmured jokingly, as he watched Brenda go outside.

Jax was still kneeling down brushing his hand back and forth in front of the motion detector to see if the red light went off.

"Here!" Brenda said, hurling the jacket at him unceremoniously.

Jax’s reflexes were such that he caught the jacket easily, and then he stood up to find her there, standing on the small, front porch glaring at him for all she was worth.

"Go inside, Brenda," he said. It was 30 degrees outside, but the sight of her made his temperature rise dramatically, and he was unaware of the cold.

"You owe me an apology," she told him, tired of him thinking he could just dismiss her whenever he felt like it.

"Get inside," he said, looking away from her.

"Not until you say you’re sorry!" she insisted.

Jax gazed at her trying to be tolerant. "May I ask you what exactly the point is of your bringing me my jacket, while you’re standing out here in nothing but that?" he snapped at her, his eyes slowly roving over her snug fitting, deep-blue velvet jeans and the short white chenille sweater she wore. She looked stunning, but was so obviously freezing. "Get inside," he said again.

"Apologize," she said, not moving.

"Brenda, get . . . inside," Jax said slowly, thinking he would kill her if she got herself sick by standing out here being ridiculous and stubborn, screaming for an apology she was never going to get.

"Apologize!" she said again, getting frustrated with him.

Her eyes flew open at the quickness with which Jax was suddenly approaching her. Her instinct was to run, and that was exactly what she did. She didn’t get far though. She got as far as the black jeep before she felt him. He had her trapped against the Pathfinder in between his arms, and he looked like he wanted to wring her neck.

"So you want me to apologize?" he said, watching her as she breathed rapidly, from running and from her excited nervousness at his nearness. He was so close to her. She might as well be in heaven. Yet despite her secret delight, she managed to stare at him defiantly. She was so beautiful, she was driving him crazy. "Apologize for what?" he asked.

"For ruining my plans, Jax!"

He saw her shivering, and didn't realize it was because he was so close to her. He assumed she was freezing in her little get-up. He placed his jacket over her, trying not to smile at the way it went down past her knees.

"Ruining your plans, Brenda? What plans? Oh, you mean your little de-flowering ceremony?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with sarcasm.

She gasped. He knew?!

"That’s right, I knew," he said coolly to her unspoken question. "And you shouldn't be screaming at me to apologize to you for sparing you from that, you should bloody well be thanking me!" he shot at her.

Her cheeks flushed. The hint of rose beneath the natural gold complexion of her skin only made her that much more radiant, which made Jax just want to close his eyes. How unfair that he should be confronted by something so utterly irresistible, and find it all the more irresistible as the seconds ticked by. And yet be forbidden to have it . . . .

"It’s none of your business if I want to . . to . . .to do that," Brenda said quickly, glancing away from him, dying of embarrassment, yet not about to move from this coveted position of being trapped between his body and the jeep.

"You don’t want to do anything, Brenda. You just think you do. Or you think you have to, to prove some point or something."

"Do not tell me what I feel or what I want," she ordered him.

"You don’t want him," he said. "I do know that much."

"Well, then you know nothing," she replied flippantly, with a toss of her hair that Jax found entirely too provocative, "because I do want him, Jax. I’ll have you know that I’ve had a crush on Drew Roberts ever since I was a freshman, and being with him now would be. . .would be. . ." she tried to think of something that would irritate him. " . . .would be like a dream come true for me!" she finished hotly.

Jax looked momentarily thrown, but recovered within seconds. He didn’t want what she was saying to be true, and so he said so.

"That’s not true."

He made sure to keep Brenda’s legs immobile, as the look in her eyes made him think she was about to break her promise to him and rear back and kick him in the shins. To his shock, what she did instead was to place her hands on his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion, getting ready to pull her hands away as her touch was doing to him what it always did, and he needed for it to stop.

"You ruined my plans, Jax," she reminded him, "and now, I feel that it’s only fair for you to make it up to me," she decided.

"What?"

And before he could process her exact meaning, she was pulling his face towards her and leaning up on her tiptoes towards him. His whole body felt the rush seconds later, when her lips came into startling contact with his.

It took nothing but the initial contact, the slightest brush of her lips against his, for Jax to give into his own desires. His mouth covered hers in an electrifyingly seductive kiss that sent sparks exploding through Brenda’s entire body. At first the kiss was light, coaxing, with Brenda as the aggressor, her mouth shaping itself to his, delicately exploring the contours of his lips. She had never dared to kiss anyone like this before, and she had never been kissed like this before in return.

His hands shifted, one of them sliding inside of his jacket she was wearing, and curving around her hips to draw her closer, while the other hand slid behind her neck, and his mouth slowly opened over hers as he became the aggressor. Lost in the kiss, Brenda moved her hands up his arms, which she’d been using to balance herself, up his chest, over his broad shoulders, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck.

The next minute she was molding her body against his, not feeling the cold, not feeling anything but a wonderful sort of breathless bliss from head-to-toe which intensified as his tongue began tracing hotly over her lips, urging them to part. The moment they did, his tongue sensuously slipped inside of her mouth, and the kiss exploded into something hot and wild, blisteringly passionate, and completely uninhibited.

Jax had never experienced such matchless desire in his life. He had never been kissed by lips more sensuous or more perfectly made for his own. His hands restlessly cupped her shapely bottom, pulling her tightly against him, and inadvertently making her vibrantly aware of his aroused body. She laced her fingers through his hair and used her tongue to explore the wonderful textures of his mouth, mimicking what his tongue was doing inside of her mouth.

A fire burned within Jax, who was completely knocked off center by Brenda’s uninhibited passion for him. His own desire for the ultimate intimacy with her, began to override all of his rationale and shut down his logic. Brenda made a soft moan deep in her throat. The sound nearly drove him beyond common sense, making him forget any previous promises or commitments he had made to anyone else. He knew he was about to lose what was left of his bloody control, and he ended the kiss abruptly, dragging his mouth from hers before he did something crazy and irreversible.

Her heart hammering like some out of control metronome, Brenda stood in the circle of his arms, breathless and dizzy and gazing at him rather wondrously, as she tried to catch her breath and maintain her equilibrium.

Jax was staring at her too, his dazzling eyes dark and glittery with passion, his body still aroused, his lips looking as thoroughly kissed as hers did. Brenda couldn’t help but let loose a tiny smile of triumph when she realized that Jax had been just as crazily affected and speechlessly impressed by their kiss as she had been.

Her gaze then left his beautiful eyes and dropped to his lips, remembering his kisses, at times so boldly sensual, at times so tormentingly sweet. So exquisite, so arousing, so exciting. She gazed at his lips longingly, wanting to feel that again. And again.

She lifted her gaze to his, the silent request in her eyes.

Jax wanted to answer that request by walking away from her. Instead, he seized her lips in a ravenous kiss that stole her breath, filled her with joy and passion, and drove her wild with pleasure.

The kiss was endless and awesome; a sensual heaven of their making.

When his senses came back to him several minutes later, Jax jerked her out of his arms, realizing she was getting far too comfortable with this kind of reckless passion. She had herself pressed wildly against him, incredibly close and intimate, undeterred by his volatile arousal, in fact it seemed only to encourage her. She had thrown caution to the wind, doing nothing but moaning softly in pleasure when his hands had slid into her hair and then to her face, caressing it softly as the kisses grew deeper and deeper.

It was that moan combined with the wild mating dance their tongues were passionately engaged in, and how boldly her body was beginning to move against his, that caused Jax to pull away until their lips and bodies were a safe distance apart.

He was on fire everywhere. Every cell in his body, every centimeter of his skin. Even his blood was running hot. How had he let this happen? She was staring in fascination at his lips, thinking it amazing that they could give her such pleasure, and her doing so was doing nothing to cool down the fireworks detonating inside of Jax.

He knew he had to break this deeply sensuous vibe between them. Now.

He tilted her chin upwards, averting her gaze from what currently held their passionate fascination, and forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Brenda," he said quietly, "what just happened between us . . . that was a mistake."

She shook her head. "It didn’t feel like a mistake."

No, she was so right about that.

"It felt perfect, Jax," she added.

Yes, this is the problem, you see. Your kisses should not feel like perfection to me. And yet they do . . .

"Jax, you were right," she was saying, bringing him out of his turbulent thoughts. "I don’t 'want’ Drew Roberts. I only wanted him because I thought I couldn’t have you. But now . . ." she smiled, and his heart seemed to physically reach for her from within his chest.

Jax removed her hands from his chest, not wanting to feel her touch, not wanting her to be able to feel how she, alone, could make his heart race like that of a mad man.

"You can’t have me, Brenda," he told her apologetically.

She was not discouraged.

"I can wait," she said, touching him again. "If it’s against the rules for you to get involved with me because you’re assigned to protect me, then I can wait until the assignment is over." She reached up and caressed his throat……. "I don’t know . . .somehow I think I could wait forever for you," she confessed softly. And the vulnerability in her eyes made it impossible for him to look at her.

"Brenda, you’re not listening to me," he said, refraining from touching her because he knew if he did, he would never let her go.

"I am listening," she said, driving him crazy by laughing and impulsively kissing him. His traitorous lips which were acting as if Ariel had never existed, were not about to deny themselves what they wanted so much. Her fingers threaded through his hair, sending a shudder of pleasure through him. He could not resist this. He wanted her so much. His arms snaked around her, and he lifted her up off the ground, bringing her mouth level with his own in a kiss of scorching proportions.

Desire swept through them in waves of rippling, intoxicating heat, as Jax’s tongue slid inside of her mouth to deepen the intimacy of their kiss. Brenda was the most responsive woman he had ever kissed. Her wild enthusiasm stunned him and aroused him in ways no other woman ever had. He was crazy about her. No, he was crazy period, he decided as he once again jerked them apart in the midst of searing, perfect passion that was dangerously out of control.

"You’re not listening to me, Brenda, you’re not," Jax insisted, physically distancing himself from her in a desperate effort to preserve the tiny ounce of self-control he had left.

"Jax, I am. You said that I can’t have you now . . ."

"You can’t have me, period," Jax clarified, wishing the cold air would snap him out of this, and just freeze out this overwhelming need for her that he felt. It was inconceivable to him that he was feeling ridden with incredible guilt and sadness for having to tell Brenda that he had a fiancée, and yet he had not felt that sadness nor that guilt when he and Brenda had been so deeply into their volatile kisses. In his mind Jax could already see Scott shaking his head and saying ‘ You don’t see, like, a big problem with this picture, Jax?’

"You mean, never?" she asked, looking adorably confused, and not in the least bit deterred. "Why not?" she asked with a shrug.

"I’m not . . . available, Brenda. I’m not . . . "

"Why not?" she asked, brushing her fingers teasingly over his lips, oblivious to the gravity he was trying to give the situation.

"Brenda, I’m engaged," he told her, bracing for her reaction.

Brenda looked stunned and not quite sure whether to believe him or not. "You’re what?" she asked softly.

"Engaged."

Brenda’s beautiful, brown eyes turned immediately hostile.

"How can you even consider marrying someone else after the way you just kissed me!" she demanded accusingly.

"I’m sorry I kissed you that way. I shouldn’t have, but . . . "

"You liar! You are not sorry!" she yelled at him. "I felt you, Jax. I was on the receiving end of that kiss, and I know you weren’t sorry!"

"You’re right, I wasn’t sorry. But it should never have happened, Brenda. Why did you kiss me?" he asked her.

"Because I wanted to, Jax. Because I have always wanted to. Why did you kiss me back, huh? If you’re so engaged!" she shot back at him. "Do you go around kissing everybody like that?!"

"Brenda . . ." Suddenly Jax was beyond irritated by all of this, and furious that fate had not brought her to him before he had ever made a commitment to another. "Oh, hell, Brenda, I did not want this to happen. I did everything I could to prevent this, but I’m so damned attracted to you, and I can’t help that. So when you kissed me I just . . how could I not . . .look, I do want you, for god’s sake, I don’t deny that. But I can’t have you. And you can’t have me. That’s just the way it is," he finished, incredulous as to how incoherent and rattled and senseless his own words sounded to him.

Brenda’s eyes frosted over. "You led me on, Jax," she accused him, trying to mask her hurt and her incredible sense of loss with her anger.

"No, I didn’t. How did I do that?" he asked gently.

"You did! You had to know how attracted I was to you, Jax, and you just let me be! You should have told me you were engaged way before now!"

"Why? We barely even spoke to each other before. And if you would have asked me, I would have told you."

"Oh, please!"

"Brenda, listen to me . . ."

"No! I will not listen to you, Jax! Don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, and don’t even look at me! Basically, just do what you’ve been doing all along!" she raged at him. "Oh, and take your stupid jacket back!" she added, taking off his jacket and throwing it at him.

"Brenda, just calm down, okay? Let’s go inside."

"I am not ready to go inside! And when I am, it won’t be because you tell me to do it, she said, shivering as a chilling wind blew past them.

"Look at you, you’re freezing," he said, looking at her with such tenderness that it made her want to cry. "I know that you hate me right now, but if you’re going to be stubborn and insist on staying out here, then please, just put my jacket back on."

She glared at him. "I would rather freeze," she said, and he gazed at her in exasperation, knowing that she probably meant it.

Just then, Scott came racing outside. "Jax! Somebody’s here. I think we’re about to hit the jack pot!" he said with a gleeful smile, as he zipped up his jacket. He saw the frigid tension between Jax and Brenda, but ignored it for now, as too much was going on. "Brenda, stay inside. Lock all the doors," Scott said, pulling on her arm to get her moving. Once she was safely inside, Scott and Jax took off in the direction where Scott had detected movement.

Peering through his binoculars, Bastian tried to get a look at the two FBI clods he and Madison would have to outwit to get back their Swiss Bank account numbers. He dropped the binoculars in shock.

"Jax?" he murmured, in shock. "Oh, Christ! Of all the damned bad luck!"

"What’s wrong?" Madison asked, picking up the binoculars Bastian had dropped.

"We have to get out of here," Bastian said urgently.

Madison gave him a look as if he had lost his mind. "What is the matter with you? Just stick to the plan, all right? I’ll side track the feds while you get inside that safe house and get that girl to give you that piece of paper," Madison ordered, perturbed by Bastian’s unusual display of cowardice.

"You don’t understand. My…." Bastian shook his head. "I can’t be seen anywhere near here. Those are not ordinary federal agents. Look, we just have to work this out and rendezvous another time. We will get those numbers back. But not now. Let’s go! Bloody, hell . . . Jax," he muttered in disbelief. How could the fates conspire to put Jax, of all people, on this case?

"They're coming. Split up. I’ll met you at the airport," Madison said, putting on a tinted, motorcycle helmet and taking off in one direction while Bastian, donning a helmet as well, went off in the other.

Jax took off after Bastian, while Scott sprinted off after Bastian’s partner.

Scott followed Madison Kennedy down a ravine through the woods surrounding the safe house.

Madison heard him close behind and was cursing the swiftness and agility of the pursuer. Bastian was right. These were no ordinary FBI agents by any stretch of the imagination. Madison could have sworn the damned man was swinging from the trees, he was gaining distance so quickly.

Three minutes later Madison went down as Scott leapt on him, getting him pinned to the cold ground and holding his gun on him.

"Happy Thanksgiving! I guess you would be the turkey of the day," Scott said with a gloating grin. "I’ll bet my partner has got your partner trussed up like a turkey right about now too."

Scott flipped the struggling Madison over and began patting him down to remove his weapon. Scott froze as his hands touched something decidedly feminine on Madison’s chest.

"What the. . . " Scott pulled off the black tinted, motorcycle helmet off of his captive and was stunned to be confronted by a pair of dazzling, green eyes and the most gorgeous, auburn hair that came tumbling down.

His momentary shock was all Madison needed to enable herself to take advantage of the moment. She kneed Scott in the groin and kicked his gun out of his hand. While he rolled off her in pain, she smiled down at him.

"You’re pretty cute," she said. "but it looks like you’re the turkey now, doesn’t it? Gobble, gobble," she said with a smile that Scott would not ever forget. And then she was off in a blaze of speed heading for the motorcycle she had hidden in the woods.

"A woman?" Scott groaned, as he tried to get to his feet. "Madison Kennedy is a woman?" Damn, she was almost a girl, practically! She hadn’t looked a day older than Brenda. And he’d been bested by her? A girl?! A damned girl?! He groaned again and fell back onto the floor.