Person of Interest by Debra Webb Page A

heartache.
    A frown furrowed a path across her brow. “How is that possible? He worked as my handler for a year prior to our…relationship. I thought the operation came later, after he’d gone back into field duty.”
    This is where things got slippery.
    “One of the contacts in his last operation was someone he had known for years.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “An on-again, off-again flame who unknowingly provided him with useful intelligence from time to time. She’s my only safe way into this.”
    Elizabeth wasn’t convinced. Far from it.
    “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?” The frown had given way to something along the lines of outright accusation. “No one has mentioned anything about a woman.”
    “You know the drill, Doc,” he said, careful to keep the regret from his tone, “need to know. The golden rule we live by every day. You had no compelling need to know this part until now.”
    “If your superiors told you that excuse would make me feel better about this new information, they were wrong,” she said in a calm voice but the turmoil of emotions in her eyes belied her unyielding statement.
    “We can move back downstairs to have this conversation,” he suggested in deference to her comfort. He felt reasonably certain she didn’t want to talk about certain details in the room where he slept.
    Her expression hardened—the change was painful to watch. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hennessey. I’m a doctor. Nothing you say or ask about the human bodyor the act of procreation will make me uncomfortable in any setting.”
    With that point driven straight through his chest like a knife she strode over to his bed and plopped down on the end. “What do you want to know?”
    The grim line of her mouth and the cool distance in her eyes telegraphed all he needed to know.
    Too late not to hurt her. He’d already done just that.
    Regret trickled through him, but there was nothing to do but pursue the subject. He needed the information and the damage was done. Holding back now wouldn’t accomplish a damned thing.
    “We can start with pet names.” He shrugged. “Did he usually call you anything other than Elizabeth?”
    “What does this have to do with the other woman?”
    “Maybe nothing. But I need to be—”
    “Yeah, yeah,” she cut in. “I get it.”
    A moment passed as she appeared to collect her thoughts. She stared at some point beyond him. The drapes on the windows were closed, so certainly not at any enticing view.
    “Baby,” she said abruptly as her eyes met his once more. “He called me baby whenever we…” She cleared her throat. “Whenever we were intimate.”
    “Baby,” he murmured, committing the term to memory.
    “No.” She shook her head. “Not like that. Baaaby. With the emphasis on the first syllable.”
    “Baaaby,” he echoed, drawing out the first syllable as if it were two.
    She nodded once. “Yes. Like that.”
    He propped against the dresser and let her talk. She seemed to know what he needed to ask and he appreciated that more than she could possibly comprehend. She shared the sexual vocabulary Maddox used. His euphemisms for body parts and the words that he whispered in her ear as they made love. With every word, every nuance of her voice he felt closer to her…felt the need to touch her. Tension vibrated through him to the point that every nerve ending felt taut with anticipation of what she would say next.
    “He liked for me to be on top,” she said, careful to avert her eyes. “When I wasn’t on top he was usually…” She cleared her throat. “He liked to get behind me.” She fisted her fingers and hugged her arms around her middle. “He was very aggressive. Preferred to be in control other than the being on top thing.”
    Joe wanted to make her stop, but he couldn’t. And yet with each new detail she revealed, his body grew harder, he wanted her more.
    “Was there a certain…way he touched you?” he ventured, his throat so