Manipulative Attraction

54. ⚛️ Never Too Hot To Handle

"I remember your mother. Tatiana Jones was a good agent, continuously loyal to her country."

At her mother's name, Jeannie felt a pain run through her torso like a jousting lance. Her mother was the reason the man she loved grew up without a father. Even if Thorne didn't blame her now, who could say it wouldn't come up in the future?

"My mother...was a lot of things."

The man chuckled as he opened a gold metal box on his desk. He took out a cigarette and tapped it on its end. He offered it to Jeannie. She shook her head. The man shrugged and placed the cigarette between his middle and ring finger. He flicked a match and lit it, inhaling deeply.

The sharp smoke burned Jeannie's eyes and throat. She let out a little cough.

"Ah, you Americans cannot handle much," he said through the haze of blue fumes that surrounded his head.

"Ah, but I'm not American."

The man leaned back in his chair and laughed until he turned red and tears rolled down his face. He wiped at his eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. "You are just like your mother. She was brave and sassy like you."

The man took another long drag, blowing the smoke at the ceiling. "We have Demetri, you know."

"He's still alive?" Jeannie thought the Istochnik would have buried Demetri by now.

Why are they keeping him?

The man tipped his head from side to side. "For the now."

"What does he have to do with me?"

"Your country needs to replace agents it has lost."

A dark thought grew in Jeannie's mind. "W-what do you mean?"

"We want you and the son of Aleksei and Tatiana to have children. Many, many healthy children."

Inside Jeannie was screaming, but she held it in, facing her fear head-on.

"Why do you want us to have children?"

The man gave her a chilling grin as he pressed a button on his desk.

Two guards came in and hauled her up by the armpits. Jeannie struggled in their grasp until she broke free, her strength stunning everyone in the room. She ran to the man who drew back in his chair too fast and toppled over with a meaty sounding crash to the floor.

Before the man or the guards could react, Jeannie was on him. She grabbed him by his suit jacket, which partially ripped under her hands. Her nose touched his as she screamed in his face. "You hurt me, Thorne or my future family, and I will burn this place to the ground. Do you hear me? Do you get it?"

It took four guards to remove Jeannie from the frightened man. She didn't resist this time. She'd gotten her message across to the one that mattered.

No agency and no one would ever dictate her life again. If they tried... the real Jeannie Jones would show no mercy.

They dropped her off after midnight. Only a street lamp guided her way up the steps and to the door. She searched her pockets.

Thorne has my keys.

She went around the backside of the complex to Thorne's window. She knocked once. Twice. Three times. The blinds moved. Thorne stuck his head between the slats. His eyes widened with recognition. His smile made the cold night warm. He motioned her to go around to the front.

When he opened the door, his chest was bare, and his jeans hung low on his hips. He scooped her up into a hug, kissing her everywhere he could reach. He didn't set her down until they were back in his apartment.

"What happened? What'd they say?"

All the way home, Jeannie debated telling Thorne the truth. Would he leave her if she did? Would he find the threat of the Istochnik after her mother and godfather's actions too much to bear? Now that she was facing his questions, she went with her instincts.

"If we continue. If we... well, if we have a family, they want our children, Thorne. They want our babies."

Instead of stepping toward her, Thorne backed away. His stricken look tore at her insides.

"Jeannie...I... this is just—"

"Too much?" She gave him a sad smile. "I understand. I was thinking the same thing."

Her heart broke in two as she turned to leave, grabbing her keys from the bowl he kept by the door. Thorne made no move to stop her as he sunk down on to the couch, holding his head in his hands.

Jeannie closed her door and leaned against it. The pain she felt was deep-seated and raw. It burned her insides, turning them to ashes. Her heart twisted and jerked like the front seat of a roller-coaster on a hairpin turn.

Thorne had let her go after all they had been through. They were over. Finished. Jeannie looked inside herself and saw a bleak future, as desolate as no-man's land between two war torn countries. How could she even begin to heal? She had no family to help her through any of it. Her friends had issues of their own. She had no one left but Fifi.

Fifi.

Her dog was with Thorne. Jeannie groaned with frustration. She'd better get Fifi tonight as tomorrow...well, tomorrow it would be harder to face him.

Jeannie turned around and opened the door. Thorne stood in the hall, leaning against the doorjamb, just like on the first day he'd met her. His green eyes burned into hers while a smile graced his cupid bow lips.

"We won't let the bad men near them. Will we?"

Jeannie shook her head, relief spreading through her like a cool breeze at the end of a heat spell.

"No, Thorne. We won't."

Before she could say more, he crushed her to him, bending her back with a soul-searing kiss.

Doors opened down the hallway. The judge and Ms. Cox poked their heads outside.

"These damn kids, I swear," the judge said, shaking his head.

Ms. Cox sniffed her disapproval. "You leave them be, you old coot."

She nodded her head in approval as Thorne picked up a squealing Jeannie and carried her inside, kicking the door closed with his foot.