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Kate pushed open the apartment door to find Jonas waiting on the other side. Her heart skipped a beat. After a small hesitation, she tugged the key from the lock and crossed the threshold, studying him. He stood taller. Stronger. An air of tense watchfulness about him that reminded her of a caged jungle cat contemplating freedom on the other side of its bars. Her heart skipped another beat, but for a whole different reason.
She dropped her keys on the entry table.
He was ready to leave.
"You're home early," he said.
"I had some leave time coming to me. I thought I'd check out that vehicle you mentioned. The plate came back as registered to an Ottawa resident."
“Sorry.” His mouth tightened.. "Paranoia on my part."
"Understandable, given the circumstances. You look like you're feeling better."
"Much. I'll be leaving tomorrow." Blue eyes watched her, as if waiting for a reaction.
A sudden hollowness took up residence in her chest. Kate turned away to take off her coat. She hung it in the closet and pulled out her gun box. Jonas cleared his throat.
"Nothing out of the ordinary on the way home?"
She shook her head. "Nothing."
She set her weapon into the box, locked it, and replaced it in the back corner of the closet. Was it just her, or was conversation between them even more stilted than usual? She swallowed a snort at the thought. Usual. Jonas had been with her less than a week, two of which he'd been unconscious. He pretended to sleep until after she left the apartment in the mornings; they exchanged surface pleasantries over dinner when she returned home; and she'd taken to hiding in her room as soon as the meal was over, claiming file work as a flimsy excuse that went undisputed. The word usual didn't apply to anything in this situation.
"You'll be glad to get me out of your hair," Jonas observed. Despite its neutrality, the deep rumble of his voice set off an answering vibration in Kate's belly.
She took a steadying breath and faced him again. He'd crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, muscled forearms flexed. A thrum of coiled power rolled off him. Oh, he was definitely feeling better, all right. Kate's gaze slid away as a warm flush started at the soles of her feet and worked its way up her body.
"It hasn't been that bad," she said, sidling past on her way to the kitchen. She battled the urge to stop at his side and meet the intensity in those glittering blue eyes she tried so hard to avoid. Needed to avoid, if she wanted not to throw herself at him. The idea of a casual fling might have crossed her mind in the last few days—perhaps even more than once—but one with the kinds of complications Jonas Burke came with?
That, she could do without.
One more night, Kate. You can do this.
"You could have fooled me, the way you disappear into your room at precisely six-thirty every night." Jonas had followed her, taking up a post in the kitchen doorway. His heat tugged at her as she opened the fridge door to take out a pitcher of filtered water.
"I told you, I have—"
He interrupted her with a snort. "No one takes that much paperwork home with them every night, Kate. Not unless they're avoiding something else."
She took a glass down from the cupboard opposite the fridge, still entirely too close to the man in the doorway for peace of mind. Or peace of body.
"It's okay to admit you want me gone," Jonas continued, a growl threading his voice. "We’re both adults here, and I’m well aware you didn't ask for any of this."
"That's not—" She stopped herself, but too late. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jonas frown.
"Not the reason?" he finished. "Then what the hell is the reason? Why can't you bring yourself to exchange more than half a dozen words with me over dinner, or tolerate my company for more than a few minutes at a time?"
She rounded on him, her temper flaring. "Don't you dare put all this on me. You're just as bad, sitting there glowering over your plate every night, pretending you're asleep when I leave in the morning. You've made it just as obvious that you don't care for my company, Agent Burke."
"Touché," he said, folding his arms again. "Except that's not my reason, either."
The scent of magnolia shampoo reached out to Kate, carried by the heat of his body. She'd never dreamed it could smell so...male. Her world tipped a little to the side, and her grip on the pitcher tightened. Shit.
"We should probably talk about this, don't you think?" Jonas said.
She gave up on the idea of water and shoved the pitcher back into the fridge. She forced her gaze to meet his. To remain steady. But she kept the fridge door open as a shield between them, just in case.
"There's nothing to talk about," she said. "You're leaving in the morning, and I'm going back to my life. End of story."
For a moment, she thought he might argue with her. Hell, a part of her wanted him to. Wanted him to push the fridge door closed, take a step closer, reach for her...
But then a shadow darkened his eyes and his lips drew tight and the moment passed.
"You're right," he said. "I wasn't thinking."
Kate swallowed a wholly unreasonable pang of disappointment, struggling to regain mental balance. Then she closed the fridge door and scooped back the hair from her forehead, sighing. "Forget it. Look, it's too early for dinner, so I'm going to head downstairs to the gym for a while. You probably shouldn't do much just yet, but there's a sauna there if you'd like a change of scenery."
"I would like that," Jonas agreed, and just like that, things between them went back to normal.
Which ranked right up there with usual.
***
Jonas endured four suffocating intervals of ten minutes each in the cedar sweat box before he emerged into the main gym’s cool air for the final time. Saunas had never been his idea of a good time, but when Kate had suggested it, he'd figured it beat the hell out of sitting by himself in the apartment letting his mind go over that little incident between them again and again.
Not that his attempt at avoidance had worked. He grimaced into the towel as he wiped his dripping face. Whoever said you couldn't run away from your problems must have encountered blond curls and amber eyes at some time in his life.
He swiped the towel over the back of his neck. What he really needed—if it wasn't for the minor detail of two bullet holes—was a good workout. Something to get his blood moving again. Something other than—
Hell. There he went again. It was going to be a long last night at this rate.
To distract himself, he studied the weight room, separated by a wall of windows from the pool area they'd entered through. It was a well-equipped setup, with free weights and mats lined up along one wall, and just about every weight machine possible spread out across the rest of the floor space. A half-dozen people hoisted and grunted their way through various routines, nodding acknowledgment at one another as they swapped equipment. In the pool, four others stroked steadily through the water.
Jonas turned his attention to locating Kate. If she was going to be much longer, maybe he could head back to the apartment ahead of her and get dinner started. Anything to stay—
The thought evaporated as he spotted the familiar blond curls. Kate sat on one of the leg machines, resting between sets. Her eyes were closed and her head was tipped back, and a fine sheen glistened over the skin of her neck and chest. Jonas's throat tightened as his gaze lingered on the steady rise and fall of the latter. Kate took a deep breath and tensed. Her thighs strained together, pulling against the machine's weight. Long, lean muscles stood out beneath soft, supple skin. Her legs moved apart, then together. Apart. Together.
Jonas swallowed on a dry mouth, unable to tear his gaze away. Or to banish the sudden, vivid image of those thighs tangled in sweat-dampened sheets, parting to wrap around—
Someone brushed against him, mumbling an apology, and he jolted back to reality, realizing he blocked more than one person where he stood. He also realized the potential for extreme embarrassment if anyone happened to notice his current physical state. Bloody hell.
He lowered the towel he'd used for mopping his face to a more strategic location, then turned and headed for the change room. Shower time.
The colder the better.