But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope. – George Eliot

You’re delusional. – Liam Monroe to Briel when she said she trusted Jase.

Shan. As the plane lifted off the ground, the word stuck in Jase's mind and swirled around like a tornado, growing larger as it sucked up every other thought. The chaos surrounding Briel's rescue had temporarily suppressed the memory, but with uninterrupted time for consideration, Jase couldn't escape how his recent escapade linked with his revelations regarding Bill Henry and ProtoComm. Though he tried to abolish the connection, it kept springing to life, fueled by the tempest of recent events.

Jase considered himself uniquely qualified to bring down Bill Henry and his infamous corporation. Who else had been as far inside as Jase had? In light of recent events, what had started as a personal vendetta had morphed into a sort of crusade. Of course, Jase didn't believe in crusades. Especially because the crusader so often turned into a martyr. Still, he couldn't escape the weight that seemed to grow every moment from what he had learned about ProtoComm, and his own past willful ignorance acted as propane to the fire of his sense of injustice.

Because he had lived amongst Bill's ilk for years, Jase knew well the inner workings of the criminal mind. If the campaign against Felicity hadn’t been enough, Jase still hadn't really known if he could stomach Bill’s business until Meg had nagged him about Ganika Saxena. Bill's directive against Briel had further cemented Jase's ire for the erstwhile CEO, but what had fully concentrated his determination had been seeing Nessa suffer at the hands of one of Bill's operatives. Jase knew the irrationality and danger of pegging all of his worth onto one relationship, especially one that didn't even exist, but he didn't seem able to help himself.

In the past, Jase would have pressed on with the relationship, maybe even using his crusade to lure Nessa in, then, for the short term, he could fulfill the desire that had clawed at him for the past few weeks. What would it be like, he wondered, to give in? To treat Nessa like all the other women he had dealt with in the past? To use her for his own pleasure? Sure, she was different from those women in some ways, but in others? He had no doubt that Nessa would prove human, and therefore open to persuasion. Would she refuse if he reached beside him now and pulled her to him in a kiss? Nessa had refused him before, but things had changed. She trusted him now, or at least she had said so. Surely, she wouldn't resist. Up until the trip to France, Jase had restrained himself to protect his one advantageous friendship, that with Drew. Drew, though, had appeared less than friendly on his last meeting with Jase, so why should Jase restrain himself to preserve something that might lie beyond preservation?

The only force that dissuaded Jase from kissing her came from the very compulsion he felt to do so. Too strong a compulsion, Jase realized, not like his usual physical lust. If he felt the velvet softness of her lips, Jase sensed that he would face the very real danger of losing himself to her, and he couldn’t afford to do that again. Once in a lifetime was more than enough. His urges with Nessa seem subject to her allure, not his desire. Sometimes, Nessa seemed completely in control of him.

Not cowardly, he assured himself as he rejected the idea. Just judicious. Jase already had enough trouble thinking straight. Did he think that giving in to Nessa would make him more rational? If his experience with Felicity meant anything, giving in would more likely drive him to temporary insanity. Perhaps a lack of sleep, the fight of his life, his disorientation from living among honest people. Maybe these had thrown him off of his game. Before he could venture into the realm of Nessa Santiago, he needed to get back to a state of composure.

“I suffered little in that regard,” she prattled amicably, and Jase came to himself as he leaned ever closer to the woman seated next to him. “You can see I hold none of the stereotypical characteristics, though my parents educated me on our history. They loved Venezuela, but the U.S. gave them freedom and success. My troubles in life didn't stem from my upbringing.” Despite his determination, his body ignored his better angels, and he found himself strategizing exactly how he could finally kiss her.

What troubles? His sentimental self asked silently, but he immediately recognized the question as weakness. He clamped down on his curiosity. Instead of responding to her, he leaned in even further, as if to listen. Nessa spoke of suffering; he suffered, too, mostly at her hands. Of course, she of all people would understand. If he had to suffer, he reasoned ironically, at least he could enjoy it. He licked his lips. He could remember the feel of the silken strands of her hair sliding through his fingers, and he could imagine the taste of exploring her mouth with his.

The bumping of the wheels against the tarmac sent his plans crashing back to earth.

Jase gritted his teeth in frustration; why had the plane chosen then to land? As if in a conspiracy to ensure his misery, Jase's phone rang as soon as he helped Nessa to the pavement.

Irritated, he pressed the button to answer the phone, not taking the time to check the caller ID. “Hello?” he hissed, barely attempting to seem civil.

“Jase,” came Amélie's desperate tone. “Please help me,” she begged, and Jase's preoccupation evaporated at the sound of the Frenchwoman's distress. Amélie never felt distress. Though immediately suspicious, Jase couldn't ignore the possibility that her sentiment was genuine. What if Jase had guessed right before? What if Liam really did plan to eradicate Amélie? Inexplicably, Jase felt a slight alleviation of the clutching in his chest, a sensation he hadn't know existed until it fled. He realized that the shift of Liam's attention from Nessa to Amélie freed Jase from a crushing weight of anxiety.

To his right, Jase grew very aware of Nessa's obsidian eyes as they flitted over his expression. He worked to maintain a calm demeanor.

“Of course,” he answered Amélie coolly. He could not betray any emotion that might reveal Amélie's identity to Nessa. Or even worse, at this point, to Briel who stood only a few feet away. No doubt Briel would have a few choice words for Amélie. “Would you like to meet?” Jase offered, coolly

“You cannot talk now; I understand,” Amélie allowed. “Yes, please meet me at that coffee shop where all of those people you work with drink the weak American coffee.”

“In the States?” he asked, hoping Amélie would catch his meaning. “I didn't expect you to return so soon.”

“Bien sur. I am in San Antonio as we speak,” she agreed. “I am in danger, so of course I came to you. With you I am as safe as is possible, though not entirely safe.”

“That's fine,” he hedged casually for the sake of his audience. Though he did not relish the idea of hiding Amélie so close to her enemies, Jase wavered between relief and frustration. He didn't want Amélie anywhere near him, and her presence would greatly complicate his life. Still, his dilemma didn't lessen his pleasure at the realization that, if Amélie faced danger, then Nessa most likely did not.

“Eleven o'clock, then,” Amélie agreed. “I will see you there. Au revoir.”

“Bye.”

Immediately, Jase glanced covertly toward Nessa, flitting his eyes sideways and peering at her through his lashes. Though she did not watch him, he could see the tension in her face as she worked to eavesdrop on his conversation. Her look of frustration assured him that she had little success.

“Well,” Jase began to cultivate a cover story even as he avoided addressing the phone call. “I'm exhausted. Would any of you like a ride wherever you're going? You can all fit in my car.”

Nick laughed, temporarily providing a distraction for Nessa from Jase's cryptic phone call. “I don't fit well in your car, even in the front. I'm pretty sure I can google up a roomy towncar to take us back to Briel's new apartment.”

“For the time being” Briel corrected lightheartedly, “I'm sure I can find you a place to stay in town until you get back to your sister's house.”

“I travel half-way around the world, and she kicks me out of her house and into a hotel,” Nick responded with mock irritation. “That's gratitude for you.”

“I don’t have a house, Nick…” Briel murmured, ribbing him with her elbow.

Despite his discomfort with the phone call, Jase had to smile. Nick had woven some mystical spell over Briel, and Jase found her new state an improvement. In all their acquaintance, Jase had not seen her laugh at a joke.

“Who was on the phone?” Nessa crashed into his distraction as soon as Nick and Briel left. Apparently, his diversion had not worked. “You seemed anxious when you answered the call.”

“No,” Jase tried to assure her. “It was nothing. An old friend from overseas just moved back to the states. He's asked me to help with some computer setup in his new apartment, but he didn't want me to fly up to New York, so we're just going to meet on the phone. I'll call him after I drop you off.”

If Nessa mistrusted him, she didn't betray it by her expression. Still, he somehow hated to lie to her. Could he not escape his demons for a few hours of peace? Not when they're demons of my own making, he reasoned bitterly. Jase's entire adult life had hinged on his skill in deception, but now he found himself hating to deceive. Though no one ever had, Jase felt assured that Nessa would find him out, that every lie he planted in her now would sprout into a weed of regret and recrimination later.

Unfortunately or fortunately, Jase didn't have time for self-examination. For multiple reasons, he needed to concentrate on Amélie. No doubt, her presence in his life portended a lot of difficulty. Plus, she seemed to possess a lot of information that he had never told her: his town of residence, his hour of arrival from France, even the coffee shop frequented by his coworkers.

His first instinct told him to mistrust her; Amélie always had an angle. If she wanted to wreak havoc on him, coming to San Antonio would accomplish that goal. By lulling him into complacency with her plea for help, Amélie could lead others to him; she could ascertain more ways to manipulate him; she could physically attack him or those he cared about.

If, however, she really needed help, Jase didn't think himself capable of abandoning her to some payback by Bill and his minions, at least not with his current opinion of Bill. Even Amélie didn’t deserve slavery. He also reasoned that if he helped her now, Amélie would more likely help him if he needed it later. Mercenary, he grinned to himself. It felt good to realize he still possessed a measure of ruthlessness. Too often lately, his conscience had controlled him to his own detriment. To find out if Amélie really needed help, Jase would have to meet with her one way or the other.

“Don't worry about me,” Nessa's voice brought Jase back to his surroundings. “Drew can come get me.”

“Drew?” Jase stuttered. The thought sent jabs of envy spearing through Jase's gut, and he had to squeeze his hands into fists to refrain from spitting “No!” with all the vitriol he could muster. Instead he merely threw out a casual, “Oh, don't bother him; it's no problem. I drive right past your apartment on my way home, so I can easily drop you there.”

At Nessa's subtle smile, Jase's attention returned fully to his companion. Apparently, Nessa possessed, once again, more conniving than he had assumed. Her offer seemed targeted to test him, and her pleasure meant that he had passed the test.

“Thanks,” she mouthed the word almost inaudibly.

The ride to her apartment evaporated as quickly as a steam cloud dissipates into desert air, and neither Jase nor Nessa spoke throughout the duration. Jase could only guess at what might have silenced her, and the vulnerability of the quiet left too raw an edge to traverse. When he pulled to the curb outside her apartment, Nessa turned to him as if to say something, but then closed her mouth as quickly, reaching instead to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

So, she hadn't guessed at his unscrupulous speculations on the airplane. And he hadn't really tested his theory, either. Would she let him press her? Jase raised the tender skin on the back of Nessa's hand to his lips. No reaction whatsoever.

“Thanks for saving Briel,” Nessa finally managed, and she gingerly removed her fingers from his.

Decorum required a smile, but Jase felt little happiness in that moment. “My pleasure,” he assured the raven-haired beauty. His touch had not affected her in any way; her composure almost compelled him to grab her and kiss the breath out of her, but he managed to control himself. Even if he got a reaction from her, what would he gain? He would probably lose any ground he had gained with her.

In other ways, the just-concluded journey had left him largely sated in ways he hadn't expected. He hated the idea that the mission had to end, not because he had enjoyed the action, but because he craved the company. Maddeningly, though she had, in the heat of the battle, seemed poised to respond to Jase, Nessa now stood unaffected by either him or their trip together. Where she had not reacted to his lips on her hand, he found himself almost undone by the gesture.

When she closed the door to his car, only the residual sedative of her touch on his lips restrained Jase from angrily whipping the car out of her driveway and gunning the motor down the lazy residential road. Jase wanted to keep up the charade of nobility as long as possible; he had too much to gain in the short term to sacrifice Nessa or his self-respect over a surge of testosterone. Was he always working an angle?

Instead of peeling out like a preening teenager, therefore, he forced himself to watch her entire trek up the sidewalk until she entered her apartment door. Then, he eased out down the driveway, maintaining a controlled speed that only expanded once he reached the larger span of the freeway. On the highway, he opened the throttle as far as it would go. Pursuing Felicity had proven him a fool; chasing Nessa might prove his path to insanity. Once again, he prayed that the whipping wind would scourge him of his madness, a madness which had rapidly solidified into a clear identity: Nessa Santiago.

“Bill will never forgive me,” Amélie assured Jase when he walked into Au Lait's Coffeehouse later that evening. “I managed to manufacture a convincing cover story when you fled from Jack's, but after I helped that woman escape from Liam, Bill sent the white-haired animal after me.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Jase replied noncommittally. At least her declaration confirmed Jase's suspicions about the hushed phone conversation in the abbey. Apparently, Liam had wanted to eradicate Amélie as a result of her complicity in allowing Briel to escape. Jase couldn't restrain a quiet sigh of relief. If they had come after Nessa, Jase didn't trust himself to stay composed. Staring across at the tall, slender Amélie, Jase had to grin. Of course, he felt a touch of concern for the Frenchwoman with a nut-job like Liam after her, but Jase couldn't help thinking that Amélie and Liam deserved each other. Jase feared little for Amélie; the cat had some long, sharp claws. If Liam expected an easy conquest, he would learn a hard lesson in the near future.

At the nonchalance in Jase's face, Amélie's eyes blazed in anger. “Bastard,” she accused him. “I know that you manipulated me into helping the woman escape, and after I protected you from Jack, I expect some aid when I am in need. You promised 'eternal gratitude' in New York.”

Pondering her comment, Jase considered his options. Though the old Jase would have laughed at Amélie's naïveté, the present Jase agreed with her: he had promised. Plus, if he hadn't manipulated her, she wouldn't now find herself in danger from ProtoComm. He could not completely ignore her request for aid.

On the selfish side of things, if he could somehow hold Amélie on a short leash near him, Jase could control to a certain extent whether Amélie presented any danger to him. If she did turn out to be a plant from Bill, Jase could learn more by keeping her close.

“Of course, I will help you. I will find you a safe place to lie low until things cool down.”

At this promise, Amélie huffed. “A place?” she steamed, thrusting her anger into the glare she shot him. “Your place!” she corrected.

“I can't,” he pleaded. “My apartment is very visible. Anyone looking for you would search there first.”

“I don't care,” she insisted. “If I am with you, whoever pursues me will stand little chance of success. If you refuse me this, I will find a way to disclose you to your new friends.”

Jase didn't like to fight women... “Not if I kill you myself,” he jabbed icily at the haughty Frenchwoman, and for a moment, she cowered slightly. Too soon, however, her voice rang out in laughter.

“You, Jase?” she mocked. “Who do you think I fear more? You or Bill Henry and his thugs from ProtoComm? I have seen the heartlessness of Bill's brutality. You, on the other hand, conduct yourself by some bizarre moral code, and you would never kill in cold blood.”

She almost makes me sound positively saintly, he thought with irony.

“Whether or not my 'moral code,' as you call it, would restrain me from killing you is up for debate. I'm sure if I look hard enough, I could find some provocation,” Jase asserted. He had to establish his dominance over Amélie if she spent any time in his company, and his only sure method of accomplishing such a feat lay in convincing Amélie that she didn't know him as well as she thought. With a normal woman, his words might have seemed domineering, but in a contest of equals, his words communicated only his intent to remain in power. If he let Amélie take the reins, Jase would not walk away from the battle unscathed. “If you stay at my apartment, you have to lie low. You must disappear completely if you want me to protect you. My terms, or no deal.”

To drive his point home, Jase rounded the high table to stand within inches of Amélie, and he pierced her with his gaze. To her credit, she stayed mostly collected as she averted her eyes to the tabletop. “Know this,” Jase pressed. “Things have changed, and the cool Jase that you used to know is gone.” He made sure to seep a little madness into his gaze, a feat made easier by his constant internal conflict over the last few weeks. “Don't push me, or you will regret it. My moral code only runs as deep as my patience, and my patience has worn dangerously thin.”

Though Amélie stared at him with a measure of humility, she did not shrink back. Jase knew that Amélie would not challenge him in a physical contest; she didn't hold a deathwish. She would, however, put a bullet in his back if it served her purposes. For now, she merely shrugged her shoulders and looked away from him. “I will hide for a time,” she agreed easily. “Though I value my freedom, I value my life even more. You will not find me difficult. I might even provide you with some entertainment during my stay.”

The suggestive tone she adopted gave Jase pause. After his manifold rejections of her, he had felt certain that she would give up subjecting herself to the humiliation of such naked vulnerability. Yet, here she sat using a tone that left little to insinuation. Definitely an attempt to manipulate him.

“You may stay with me,” Jase reiterated coolly, “but no more than a couple of weeks.”

“Fine, three weeks. I will find a solution by that time.”

Jase would no doubt spend the next few weeks in constant vigilance.

“I lost it,” Jase asserted sheepishly, though in reality Jase Hamilton never misplaced anything unintentionally.

Nessa gazed at him with unfocused eyes, an “oh” of surprise on her lips, as she moved to her purse to retrieve his spare key card. If he read her correctly, Nessa felt a marked disbelief that Jase would do something so haphazard. Perhaps, too, he caught a hint of disappointment and hurt, and he smiled internally at the extent to which her coolness had melted since their flight home.

Like a coward, Jase had considered just asking the management for a new key card to give Amélie, but he did not want to think about the possibility that Nessa might inadvertently meet the Frenchwoman. However he had to lie, Jase needed to remove Nessa's unfettered access to his apartment as long as Amélie stayed.

“Of course,” Nessa offered dejectedly. If she doubted him, however, she demanded no explanation, and that part of Jase that had recently devolved into a nervous schoolboy worried that he had added yet another layer of distrust to her opinion of him.

“I understand,” she consoled him. “I misplaced my spare keys last week, and I still haven't found them.”

This admission caused Jase's intuition to kick in. “Did you change your locks?” he asked with a bit more intensity than he intended.

“Oh, no,” she dismissed his concern with her tone of voice. “The keys are somewhere in my house. I pulled them out of the drawer where I kept them, and then five minutes later, I couldn't remember where I had set them. I never left the apartment to lose them. They'll turn up.”

Though Jase could understand her complacency under the circumstances, he for some reason couldn't shake his sense of apprehension. Liam hadn't yet threatened her when the keys disappeared, he reminded himself.

As he turned toward the door, a knock startled Jase into motionlessness. He had not said goodbye, and he redirected his motion to a coffee table where he picked up a magazine before looking up at Nessa. Curious, he determined not to leave until he learned the identity of her caller.

“Expecting someone?” he asked casually.

She shook her head and shrugged, matching his attitude of unconcern. “No, I haven't talked to anyone except Briel since we came back.”

“I'll just leave you to your company, then,” he declared, though he made no move to the door, instead pausing long enough to allow her to pass.

Jase swallowed convulsively when the opening door revealed Drew. I should have assumed, Jase tried to appease himself while suppressing a sudden, irrational irritation. If Drew's expression meant anything, he shared Jase's hostility. Amazing how a couple of weeks could reveal, or in Jase's case create, covert animosity. For three years, Jase and Drew had maintained a pleasant relationship with each other, but a few weeks had changed everything.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Drew grunted at Nessa. “Are you giving him unfettered access to your apartment now? How often does he come over? Do you guys 'hang out' now?”

Though Jase wanted to defend Nessa, he knew that his interference would only escalate tensions, and Drew had done nothing so far rising to a level requiring intervention.

“No, Drew,” she offered in a conciliatory tone. “It's nothing. I still had his key card from when Briel and I were over there working. Jase came to retrieve it.”

If Nessa had intended to console Drew with this statement, her attempt backfired. Drew closed the distance between himself and Nessa, pressing so close to her that she had to strain her neck upward to look into his eyes.

“Why did you have his key card?” Drew hissed.

Jase tensed his hands. Drew's entire being spoke aggression, and Jase began to calculate just how far he would let Drew go before intervening. Jase longed to plant his fist onto the larger man's scowling, disrespectful face. Still, he kept his mouth shut, because anything he added to the conversation would only increase the mess Nessa would need to clean up after he left.

“Drew, calm down.” Nessa narrowed her eyes in irritation, and Jase could see with what effort she clenched her jaw to hold back angry words. “You were well aware that Briel and I had stayed late that evening you left to prepare for your run. Jase fell asleep while Briel and I talked, and rather than make Jase get up, Briel and I took the key card and let ourselves out.”

“How convenient!” Drew stormed. “How many times did you let yourself back in?” His gaze flitted between his girlfriend and Jase. “I'm not stupid, Nessa. Far from it. You think I can't see what's going on here?”

As he spoke, Drew's voice crescendoed, and he edge ever closer to Nessa. She gave way before him and by the time Drew stopped his tirade, Nessa stood with her back against the high kitchen bar. With every ounce of his will, Jase held himself in place. Unless Drew touched her, Jase would not interfere.

No sooner had the thought entered Jase's mind than Drew grabbed Nessa by the arms and shook her roughly.

“I know what happens when women stay late nights at the apartment of Jase Hamilton. I will not be made a fool of.”

To her credit, Nessa did not stand idly by while Drew berated her. Jase arrested his movement halfway across the floor when he saw Nessa shift position. At Drew's ultimate statement, she wrenched her arm free and slapped Drew across the face.

“I don't care what you think happens in Jase's apartment,” she spat. “You should have more faith in me. I am not a girl easily taken advantage of, even by Jase Hamilton. Neither do I tolerate overbearing, controlling men who think me their private property and treat me as such.”

For one minute, Drew's hands tightened on her arms, and it looked to Jase as if Drew might return her blow, but then Drew's hands relaxed, and he dropped one hand to his side instead, retaining his grip on one arm. With measured control, Drew turned slowly toward Jase.

“I think you should leave,” Drew asserted, his eyes narrowing in calculated animosity.

Jase reflected every ounce of antagonism back at Drew. No way would Jase abandon Nessa to deal with a man in this kind of rage. “I will leave when Nessa asks me to leave.”

As Jase spoke, he moved slowly to within a few inches of where Drew stood with his hand still restraining Nessa's arm. Drew grasped her arm tighter, and Jase inhaled through his nose as he attempted to calm his breathing. When Drew's hand began to leave white marks from cutting off Nessa's circulation, Jase couldn't restrain himself anymore.

“Let go of her, Drew,” Jase ordered calmly, his tone regulated to deliver maximum authority.

“You're awfully protective, Jase,” Drew returned in an even tone and turned to face the shorter man, finally releasing Nessa's arm. “What right do you have?”

Jase would not give Drew fodder to confront Nessa at a later time, so he deflected the implicit accusation. “The right I would claim to protect any woman facing someone your size who treated her with so little respect.”

Rather than react, Drew bared his teeth in a menacing smile. Jase just stared levelly at his once friend without moving. Reaching out his right arm, Jase tried to push Nessa behind him.

“No, Jase,” Nessa insisted, stepping between the men and turning to face Jase. “Don't do this,” she gazed into his eyes. “It's fine.”

At her words, Drew smiled even wider, a smile of triumph at Nessa's apparent choice. His cocky expression made Nessa's following statement even more enjoyable to Jase than it would otherwise have been.

“I think you should leave,” she stated composedly, though she didn't address Jase. Instead, she turned back to Drew and gestured to the door with her eyes. “If you would like to have a rational conversation with me in the future, I might agree to meet somewhere to talk. Otherwise...” Jase gained a new respect for Nessa just by the intense conviction in her tone. “...don't come back here to see me; you can consider our relationship on hiatus.”

For a moment, Drew stood staring at her, stunned into speechlessness. After a breath, though, he adjusted his jaw before speaking. “So Jase managed to come between us after all,” Drew glanced at Jase, then turned back to Nessa with a leer.

“No, Drew,” Nessa cut him off quickly. “You came between us. I will not be disrespected by you or anyone else, and you've always made it very clear to me that we enjoy more a relationship of convenience than of commitment. Your aggression just made you highly inconvenient to me.” She pushed past him to the door and opened it, fixing her gaze on Drew until he moved to stand before her.

As he turned to leave, Drew leaned down to stare levelly into Nessa's eyes. “I'll go, Nessa” he said, his tone now unperturbed, “but you'll be sorry. Jase will stomp on you and leave you bleeding.”

Unmoved, the corner of Nessa's lips rose slightly into an unassuming smile. “At this point, I'm more convinced that you would. Goodbye.”

With that, Nessa gently closed the door as if she had merely bid farewell to a friendly neighbor. When she turned back to Jase, she wore an inscrutable expression on her face. Her eyebrows pressed together in consternation, and her mouth puckered into a funny little bow.

Jase stood unobtrusively against the bar, resting his elbows on the granite in a casual stance. What should he make of the events that had just occurred? If he went with his instincts, he would cave to the elation that had resulted from the last few minutes. Instead, though, he found himself almost petrified. The truth of Drew's last words had hit Jase like a bucket of icy water. He could remember the mindless scheming in which he had engaged for the last few minutes of the airplane ride. If left to his own devices, Jase might very well leave Nessa emotionally bruised and bleeding.

The thought left Jase cold. How badly would he break her when he finally walked out of her life? “He's right, Nessa,” Jase pronounced solemnly. “I can't be trusted.”

For a moment, Nessa stared at the floor, her face still creased in perplexity. She crossed the few feet between them without meeting his gaze, and Jase lowered his arms as she approached; his admission had not been as casual as his stance conveyed.

Nessa halted directly before him and transferred her gaze from the floor to her hands which now twisted in a nervous jumble of motion before her. “Jase,” she began hesitantly, and she lowered one hand to grasp his loosely. “I heard stories about you before you came to San Antonio, and I began our friendship with a healthy dose of skepticism regarding you.”

“If you had enough skepticism, you wouldn't have entered the friendship at all,” Jase interrupted.

“Hold on, Jase,” she commanded, raising her eyes to meet his. “Let me finish. Because I knew not to trust you, I watched you carefully. You seemed so different from the rumors I had heard: generous and funny, intense and compassionate, ...”

“Compassionate?” Jase scoffed.

“Yes, compassionate,” Nessa rebuffed him. “Everyone said you were a selfish bastard; that you didn't give a damn about anyone else, and all you wanted was whatever pleased you best. That's not what I saw when I looked in your eyes, Jase,” she insisted, her gaze boring into his. “You didn't have to go after Briel. You risked your life when you chased after Liam.”

At this, adolescent Jase preened, reaching his hand to caress her face. “I did it for you, Nessa,” he asserted. The rational Jase stood in silent horror at the words.

Nessa inhaled deeply. “No, you didn't,” she insisted, apparently even more irrational than he. “You did it because you have a noble heart. Your first reaction was to protect the innocent, and though I think you worked from misguided conceptions in the past, I think that's always been your default. Briel told be about Italy. I admit you do not seek to act a hero – you run from it. But when the opportunity crosses your path, that is exactly what you choose.” Nessa hesitated a moment, biting her lower lip. “Even with Felicity.”

The words hung between them for several seconds before Jase could find his voice. Could Nessa really see nobility even in his unscrupulousness toward the woman he had seduced in the darkest days of her life?

“No, Nessa. I was nothing but selfish with Felicity.”

“You were very selfish,” she agreed, interrupting him. “But your instinct leaned toward protecting her even when you sought to convince her of a lie. And you never forced yourself on her in any way while you had her in your control. I can't exonerate you for everything, Jase, but you kept her alive. If anyone else inside ProtoComm had received that assignment, Felicity would have been a living captive in some godforsaken hell.”

Jase didn't know what to say. Though his self-preservation had urged him to consider his actions in a positive light, he had never really believed the self-whisperings that had exonerated him from guilt. In light of Nessa's declarations, however, Jase had to wonder if she had a point. A very small point, he assured himself.

Regarding his behavior with Felicity, Jase could only describe his mind as utterly delusional. He had some time ago recognized his rationale for the way he dealt with her as highly faulty. When he considered things from Nessa's perspective, though, Jase realized that some underlying desire for good had indeed run as an undercurrent to his entire existence, including the Miller mission. Again, cowardice sent a chill up his spine as a strange sensation crept into his mind: hope. When he asked himself what he hoped, he couldn't really answer. Did he hope to “win” Nessa now that she had decided he was a “good guy”? No, the hope he sensed seemed deeper, more inherent to his identity. You...conduct yourself by some bizarre moral code, Amélie had said. Even Meg had accused him of lying when he said he only took care of himself. Now, Nessa had implied basically the same thing. Jase forced the thoughts from his head, succumbing to his growing gutlessness.

“Drew and I never had a very intense relationship,” Nessa interrupted his self-flagellation. For a moment, Jase stared at her dumbly, unable to process her meaning in light of his thoughts. He began to suspect her direction, though, before she spoke again, and another Jase sprouted its head again, the animal Jase from the plane ride home. The Jase who had fantasized about the feeling of her lips. “But I'm a very loyal person,” she continued, unaware of Jase's inner workings. “...and I couldn't abandon him without reason. I'm glad he finally crossed the line, though. It made my kicking him out all that much easier. See, the truth is,” she dropped her eyes back to her hands. “Drew had every reason to feel jealous of you.”

Jase felt a constriction in his chest as he reached up to touch her face. His thumb began, without intention, to stroke gently down her cheek. Though he hadn't intended to, he slid his hand under her chin and raised her eyes to his. In the onyx of her eyes, Jase saw a strange excitement that he recognized from years of experience but had never before seen in Nessa. He couldn't have imagined that look in her gentle eyes, though he had pretended he had.

When he finally moved, he did not ask who had made the choice: adolescent Jase, rational Jase, or animal Jase. Instead, he did the only thing he could figure out that would relieve some of the growing tension. Not moving his hand from her chin, he lowered his face to hers and brushed his lips deliberately across the rosy softness of her own. The sensation gripped his gut, and Jase closed his eyes, overwhelmed.

To his surprise, Nessa raised up on her toes and ramped up the intensity of the already unbearable contact. Her silken hand reached to softly caress his own rough cheek, and Jase felt himself losing his weak semblance of control.

He stepped back, breaking contact and panting slightly. “Stop, Nessa,” he insisted, and he couldn't help his elation when he saw her pouty expression. Lest she misinterpret his behavior, Jase wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

“I shouldn't have done that,” she insisted, a bitter edge just apparent under the remorse in her tone.

“No, Nessa,” Jase corrected. “Don't misunderstand me.”

He gently grasped her arms where Drew had earlier so abused them, and he pushed her just far enough away that he could see her eyes. “I want to be sure,” rational Jase asserted. Leaning in until his lips nearly brushed her ear, Jase lowered his voice to an intimate whisper. “You are too important for me to screw this up, and if you had kept kissing me like that, I'm not sure what I would have done.” So, rational Jase had done this? he asked himself. The words hardly seemed the sentiments of his usual cold self. Cold or not, Nessa hadn't seemed to mind.

Though she hadn't yet looked at him, Jase could see a mischievous smile raise the corners of her mouth and a sparkle enter her eyes. At least Nessa had enjoyed herself. Jase felt her pleasure reflected on his own face.

“I'm glad you have such self-control, then,” she proclaimed coyly and turned away from him, extricating herself from the loose grip he held on her arms. Jase shook his head in amused confusion as she stepped a few feet away and ran her fingers along the top of the antique table that graced her breakfast room. What game did she play?

Though his instinct compelled him to move in behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, he restrained himself. For whatever reason, rational Jase had pulled away from her. Rational Jase usually made pretty good decisions. Instead of reaching out to her, then, he stepped up beside her and leaned his hip against the edge of the table. No one had as yet made any declarations.

When he reached to take her hand, she turned to him and met his gaze. “You should go,” she declared without emotion. Jase's face donned a look of perplexity, but he did not press. Instead, he raised her fingers and glided his lips gently along the back of her hand.

“I'll call you,” she promised with a hint of irritation, though Jase couldn't imagine to what he should attribute such an emotion. For a moment, he balked, fear and pride mingling to demand satisfaction. Why did she want him to leave now?

When he peered into her eyes, though, he relaxed significantly. Nessa wanted him. Every sign from her parted lips to her dazed expression spoke the truth. If he could believe her, she had wanted him from the beginning. Giving her some space for a while hardly seemed a threat to the look in her eyes. He managed to smile at her before planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he promised and turned to make his exit. Though he thought at every moment that she might call him back, she didn't. He let himself out into the afternoon heat, disappointment and elation warring for dominance in his mind.