You’ve completely taken her in. – Drew Pearson

Innocence is not protection. – Thomas Fuller

“Did you see her?”

Jase squinted up into the glare of the sun which had just peeked over the horizon, irritated that he had succumbed to slumber. For a moment, he couldn't place the voice, but her approaching form soon blocked the blinding light, and Jase could make out the perfect heart shape of Nessa's pursed lips.

“What are you talking about?” he feigned ignorance.

“You mean you just let her go?”

Jase had never before seen Nessa angry, but he felt a marked surprise at the intensity of the vitriol he sensed underneath her controlled demeanor. If the grinding of her teeth meant anything, Jase wouldn't feel surprised if she punched him when she came within arm's reach.

“I just woke up. It might help if you explain what you're talking about.”

Nessa went on as if she hadn't heard him, and Jase realized that she had seen through his attempt at deception. If he intended to stay around her too much longer, he would need to figure out a way to counteract her dead-on insight.

“Are you going to claim you couldn’t stop her?” Nessa continued, her pitch rising. A slight Spanish lisp thickened her already rich tone. “You’re supposed to be better than anyone else, but she got past you! How will we know if something happens to her?” For several seconds, Nessa didn't speak, apparently too overcome with anger or frustration.

“Nessa,” Jase slowly opened his car door, approaching Nessa as if she were a frightened animal – he had seen wildlife with calmer aspects. Reaching for one wrist, he gently latched on to her. “What did you expect me to do? She had determined to leave, and I didn't want to engage her in a full-on fight. I might have injured her.”

Nessa glared down at Jase's hand on her wrist, but he saw her control herself before she yanked it away, and instead of lashing out at him, she turned to face him with scary self-control.

“At least you could have woken me up, and then we could have stopped her together.”

For a moment, Jase stared blankly at the trees over her shoulder as if hypnotized by their motion in the breeze. He couldn’t decide whether to laugh at her audacity or growl at her insult, but one glance down at her expression decided him to follow neither course. He purposely softened his tone. “Look,” he offered consolingly, “if I had come to get you, Briel would have been long gone by the time we made it back to the yard. And even if we made it back, there would be no guarantee that we could stop her without hurting her. She's too good.”

Nessa said nothing, instead turning her back on him to march straight into her apartment. Nonplussed, Jase followed without a sound. By the time he finally caught up with her, she had reached her door, and he opened his mouth to offer another excuse for his inaction. When he registered the glazed eyes that stared up at him, though, his thoughts abandoned Briel entirely. “She would have stopped for me,” Nessa insisted in a weaker tone.

Though Jase wanted to disagree, he couldn't make himself upset her even more than she had upset herself.

“Nessa.” Jase lowered his voice, her name lilting toward her like a warm breeze.

Again, Nessa turned flustered eyes to his face, though of a different sort than before. Again, the mesmerized expression, the breathless inertia of emotion. Instead of sadness, though, she seemed awash with anticipating timidity. Whatever had gripped her, though, didn't completely steal her conviction and couldn't still her tongue.

“We have to help her, Jase,” she pressed in a faint tone, as if she made the appeal out of a willpower weakened by a violent blow.

For a moment, he could sense as her body reached for him, the force of her self-denial heating the air between them in its battle against some latent desire. Jase registered the same energy pulling on him, though he dismissed it as base sensual arousal. Just because he had shunned the company of women for too long, he assured himself. With her face only inches from his, he didn't let himself question his motives. He wouldn't register the danger when he leaned his face closer; so close that he could feel her breath on his chest.

“We will help her,” he promised in a low tone. “I'll contact the people I know within Bill's organization, and I have some other friends who might be able to find Briel.” His words spoke business, but his tone susurrated as a man to his lover.

Going with the thought, he reached up to Nessa's face, just brushing the back of his hand along her cheekbone. To his pleasure, a rose blush flowed behind his touch a second before she turned away from him. He inhaled the scent of her hair, and his thoughts began to plan the kiss before his hands had reached to turn her toward his lips.

Just as he tensed his muscles to move, Nessa spoke, and the imperceptible quiver in her voice arrested his imminent motion. Some hidden misery reverberated in Nessa's tone, and the sound sent an ache deep into Jase's gut. How could he take advantage of someone in such a vulnerable state?

“Um, thanks. I...” She seemed to stumble slightly over her words, and her expression wore such an awkward sadness that Jase's base intentions arrested themselves. She didn't help her attempt to reject him when she absentmindedly licked her lips, but she then gathered herself with admirable self-control. “I have an appointment this morning with Sara, so I can't break it,” she turned a millimeter toward him, though not peering all the way into his eyes. Instead, her gaze ran along the line of his collar. “But you can call me in an hour and a half. Let me know if you find anything.”

With her words, she stepped back with a confident motion and reached for the door. The movement took her out of the danger zone for his kiss. Much to his consternation, she refused to meet Jase's gaze. She tugged gently on her wrist, which he still held, and though Jase would have preferred to restrain her a moment longer, he released her. An acid burn had settled in his stomach, a realization that threatened to upset his opinion of himself. He didn't like that he had let her get away so easily; he didn't like the implication of weakness. He didn’t like that he felt he was cheating on Felicity. But Felicity was gone, and with her, any debt Jase owed to his more noble self. Why did he hold back? He could push Nessa. He could utilize a hundred techniques to undermine Nessa's will. Yet, for some reason, he decided just to let go. This is Felicity’s doing, he fumed, loss and regret and irritation swirling around in his head.

When she pulled her door open, Jase’s mind fumbled for some excuse to stay, for some way to subvert her determination. He could think of nothing, though, flustered as he felt by his own thoughts. He cursed the new-found sentimentality that had restrained him, and Nessa peered at him with guarded curiosity. Now the predator had become the prey, and if he were to escape her analysis, he would need to leave immediately.

Jase shook himself, strolling submissively past her and out onto her front porch. Later, he assured himself, when he regained his usual cold calculation, he would regroup. Next time he met her, he would not hold back. Felicity be damned – she had sent him away, and he would not waste his life regretting her.

Turning back to Nessa, he adopted his most humble smile, scheming as he did so to regain some lost advantage. “Be careful,” he instructed with apparent concern. “I'll call you in a couple of hours, or if I find anything about Briel.”

The melancholy twist of her mouth when she shut the door behind him, though, actually pained him, a blow his ego should have resisted with little effort. Had she just noticed his conniving? Still, he found himself more curious at her earlier behavior than angry by her current expression. What about his advances had made her sad? Or had he read her completely wrong; had she merely lost herself in worry for her friend? Jase stood outside her door for several seconds, confounded by the inexplicable sense that Nessa emitted. Though he couldn't guess her thoughts, his gut ached with the irritation of not knowing. The powerlessness brought on an almost stubborn determination: before too long, he would find out.

By the time he reached his car, Jase's impotence had brought on a minor frenzy. As soon as he seated himself behind the wheel, he punched in Amélie's number. Because of his past with her, the tempestuous Frenchwoman just might hold the key to repairing his bruised ego. She had always proved a winning strategy in the past. As a bonus, he realized, he could pick Amélie's brain about ProtoComm, maybe find something to help Briel.

“Allo?” Amélie answered pleasantly.

“Bonjour, Amélie,” Jase offered in return, mirroring her cordial tone - apparently, she had not read the caller ID. “I enjoyed seeing you in New York.” Better to bring the painful subject into the open rather than let it fester away his ability to control the tone of the conversation.

“Ah, Jase,” Amélie's tone congealed to ice as the realization of his identity settled on her. “So, you accepted our assignment? I guess you are still active professionally despite your personal boredom with me.”

Jase smiled. As usual, Amélie made everything about herself. “How could I be bored with you, ma chère? You are ma belle-amie, you know.”

“So you say. Your behavior in New York made everything clear; you would rather spend your time with that américaine. Why have you called me?”

“The American woman means nothing, Amélie,” Jase soothed her. Felicity won't have me, he corrected silently. “I simply wondered how long you will remain in the States. I thought maybe I could come see you again. I would prefer our last meeting for a while end on a more pleasurable note.”

Jase tried to infuse his tone with as much suggestion as he could. Whether or not he chose to act on the suggestion, he at least wanted to hold the power to do so.

For a silent moment, Jase wondered if she would even acknowledge his words. When she spoke, the calculation in her tone warned him that she, too, would work to maintain control. Still, she hadn't outright rejected him, and Jase would take advantage of whatever opportunity availed itself.

“Bien sur, mon cher,” she agreed. “You have decided to repent?”

“Mais, oui,” he conceded easily, willing to take a low blow if he could win the fight in the end. “I have amends that must be made.”

“Hmmm,” came her only response for several seconds, then, “I will stay in New York for three more days, so you will accompany me to a soirée at Jack's private residence -”

Had she just said what he had heard? “I thought Jack had to flee the country.”

“Oui,” she agreed. “But you know him to be very resourceful. If he wants to throw a fete, he will throw a fete, especially if he can make some money from the risk. This get together, though, is purely social. You will be my date.”

“D'accord,” Jase agreed. He'd played harder roles with Amélie in the past, so he had no problem with the party in general. Of course, Jase couldn't believe that Jack would risk his freedom for a “social” event. Either Amélie or Jack had something else in mind, but then again, so did Jase. A party at Jack's apartment would provide ample opportunity for investigation. “When will you expect me?”

A rumbling laugh bubbled from some depth within Amélie. “As soon as you can,” she insisted. “The party is tomorrow, but,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I'm sure we can find a way to fill the hours until the then.”

“Mmmm, I am very tempted,” he growled the words, as if they welled from some animal depths inside him. “Unfortunately, I work for others besides Jack, now, and have found some very lucrative endeavors. You will stay with me after instead,” he commanded. “I can stay as long as you like when we are done with Jack,” he lied again. “I would not wish to miss any time with you.”

Jase could not miss the muffled laugh that fluttered through the phone; he wondered, though, at the motive for her mirth. True, the laugh seemed to imply pleasure at the idea of their meeting. Still, Jase couldn't help hearing the demur giggle as a cackle of glee, more ominous than alluring. Amélie could never fully hide things from him; she had too much vanity to keep her achievements to herself.

“A demain,” she cut off his reverie with her farewell. “I look forward to seeing you again under better circumstances than our last meeting.” She infused her voice with a coy note of petulance, and Jase smiled despite himself.

“Oh, they will be much better,” he assured her; better for me, he added silently. This thought compelled him through the next twenty-four hours as he prepared reluctantly to face the crowd from ProtoComm once again.

***********

“I know I have no right to ask, but why are you going again?” Nessa searched the floor in front of her as she spoke, handing Jase the wallet he had requested from his counter.

Jase smiled at the top of Nessa's head; after their last meeting, Jase had hardly expected concern from Nessa, much less what seemed to be possessiveness. “I told you,” he insisted. “Amélie has resources that may give us insight into the plan of action against Briel.” He reached for her arm, gently wrapping his fingers around the silky skin of her forearm. She seemed so fragile that his action might leave marks despite his care. Surely his mind exaggerated her softness.

“Don't worry about me, Nessa,” he commanded as she raised her eyes to his. “I've known these people a long time. Besides, it's not like I am particularly noble myself. I'm just as capable of treachery against them as they are against me,” he informed her. He remembered only one other time that he had engaged in such self-deprecation and honesty - with Felicity – and the similarity bothered him. Though he had intended a cold tone, a note of sadness managed to enter his voice at the last moment, and his eyes darted to Nessa's to see if she had noticed.

Had he really just seen anger flash through her eyes? The possibility confused him. Jase had expected compassion or impatience, but what could anger mean? Either he had misunderstood or she had.

“Besides,” he assured her, working to return to a casual tone, “this is not dangerous. I'm going to a party – nothing more. Don't you want to help Briel?” He knew that his last statement would seal the deal, but he somehow hated the pain it would cause Nessa.

Stepping back, Nessa shook her arm free from his grasp and sighed exasperatedly. “Yes, of course. I just know how evil these people have proven in the past, how unscrupulous. If they thought that you were using them...”

“They're using each other every moment, Nessa. That's the difference between you and them.” He had purposely avoided saying “us and them,” because Jase did not yet know into which camp he had fallen. For the time being, however, he merely stated, “I will be fine, and I'll be back here tomorrow morning.”

For a moment, she avoided his gaze, but then, unexpectedly, she grasped his hand warmly and looked into his eyes with a friendly affection. “Thank you for doing this. I know you'll be fine; I have full faith in you.”

The assertion shocked Jase, as did the feeling of her hand in his, and he smiled awkwardly in an attempt to accept her compliment. What gave her the right to have faith in him? The possibility seemed tantamount to idiocy. Sure, she could expect him to succeed – he almost always did. With her words and tone, though, she seemed to imply some sort of faith in his character. He should warn her to guard herself against such naivety. Before he could respond, however, she turned and walked out his door, leaving him to stand frozen in disbelief.