Chapter 6
“Are you playing games with me, Agent Forrester?”
How the hell he’d ended up sitting across from Jemma Winters at a bistro table overlooking San Juan Bay as the sun set, Rocco wasn’t sure. But he surely wasn’t complaining. Juntos Bar, a local establishment with excellent drinks and virtually no ambiance, was deserted. Most tourists and locals preferred to frequent the livelier bars and night clubs along San Sebastián Street in Old San Juan. But this place had long been one of his favorites.
“Now, why would you ask me that?” Rocco ignored the flutters dancing along his skin as a smile played at the corners of Jemma’s lips.
“You obviously sought me out?—”
“Obviously?” Rocco scoffed.
Jemma continued, undeterred by his interruption, “Followed me to the restaurant so you could, what? Try to convince me to keep you on as the UC for the op before my team got a chance to assess you?”
Rocco bit his lower lip. “What makes you think I approached you for … professional reasons?”
“You knew who I was when you came up to me.”
“But I didn’t offer to buy Proteus Group Supervisor Winters a drink,” Rocco clarified.
“I don’t understand.” Jemma frowned. The cutest wrinkle jumped between her eyebrows, but her eyes softened. “Who did you offer to buy a drink for?”
Rocco shrugged, then took a sip of his tumbler of rum. Lowering it from his lips, he said, “Just Jemma.”
“It’s the same person …” Jemma said, then her words faltered.
“Is it?” Rocco challenged. “When was the last time you let someone get to know the real you? Not your work. But … you.”
“Is this some kind of reverse psychology?”
“I’m a trained ER doctor, not a psychologist. Although, I did consider going into the field,” Rocco said, remembering how he’d enjoyed the dynamics of the human psyche. But that was nothing compared to the adrenaline rush he got from saving lives in the emergency room. He’d been hooked from the first moment he revived a patient who’d overdosed on cocaine.
Jemma chuckled. “Okay, I’ll play along, Agent Forrester. So, what do you want to know about Just Jemma?”
Rocco leaned forward and stared at the gorgeous face for a long moment. He wasn’t lying to her. The force that compelled him to approach her against his better judgment had nothing to do with the rigorous assessment the Proteus Team would subject him to in two days. Rocco wasn’t concerned about the evaluation. Every single moment of his career as a DEA agent had been undercover. Not to be cocky, but he was one of the most experienced and accomplished undercover agents at the DEA. The thought that he wouldn’t pass the assessment with flying colors had never crossed his mind.
Even though every warning bell told him not to, he’d approached Jemma to get to know the woman.
Rocco said, “Since you brought it up, we should clear the air. You’re off duty, correct?”
“I am.”
“So am I. So stop it with the Agent Forrester shit. Call me Rocco.”
“Okay … Rocco,” Jemma said dismissively, but her tone held a hint of curiosity.
“This conversation is going to be between Jemma and Rocco, separate and distinct from our professional lives,” Rocco said, then extended a hand toward her. “Agreed?”
“No shop talk?” Jemma clarified.
“Nope,” Rocco confirmed.
Jemma appeared to be engaged in an internal debate for a long moment, then she extended her hand and shook his.
“Now, I’ll answer your question. I’d like to know why a stunningly beautiful woman like yourself was sitting alone at a restaurant bar?” Rocco knew he was treading on thin ice, but he was intrigued by her.
Jemma Winter’s reputation as a stellar DEA agent who single-handedly dismantled the Ortiz Cartel when she was not much more than a rookie agent was known by the entire San Juan office. She was fucking legendary. Duplicating her feats would be nearly impossible. Didn’t stop them all from trying.
But from everything he knew about the woman, no one had mentioned that the shrewd intelligence and strategic mind were packaged in one of the sexiest bodies he’d ever seen. It was a combination that rattled him and lured him at the same time.
“Stunningly beautiful?” Jemma laughed, a delightful sound that brought a genuine smile to his face. The evening breeze from San Juan Bay stirred her hair, blowing wavy strands of the long locks across her cheek. “Are you flirting with me, Rocco?”
Unable to stop himself, Rocco brushed the windblown strands behind her ear. His fingertips caressed her skin, sending lightning through his veins. He didn’t know what it was about this woman drawing him like a moth to a flame. The right thing to do was to pull back before he got burned.
“Flirting?” Rocco balked. “Of course not.”
A flash of … disappointment … crossed her face but was gone as quickly as it appeared. She had no reason to be disappointed. He’d make sure she knew that.
Rocco said, “I’m stating facts. I haven’t met a woman as gorgeous as you … well, ever. So answer my question.”
Jemma’s voice was low as she responded, “I spend a lot of time on the road for my job … which I will not discuss. I’ve gotten very used to eating and drinking alone. I enjoy my own company. I don’t need a companion.”
“But do you want one?” Rocco probed.
Jemma gave him an exasperated scowl.
“Wait. Hear me out,” Rocco said as Jemma took a long sip of her rum. “I get what you mean about becoming comfortable being alone. I do the same thing, and I’m fine with it. I don’t need anybody to be there with me. But it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy the company of someone fascinating, even if for only the night.”
“I can’t believe you have any trouble finding a woman,” Jemma paused, then raised an eyebrow. “Or … man, who would fill that role.”
“I’d want a woman to be clear,” Rocco said with a laugh, not offended. He’d had his fair share of both genders propositioning him for most of his life, but his heart and his libido needed the female variety. “But that’s difficult because it goes beyond a one-night stand. The person I would enjoy has to stimulate my mind, not just my body.”
“Tell me about it,” Jemma said, downing the rest of her rum and waving a hand at the bartender to bring them another round. “Sometimes I wonder if one-night stands are worth it. Exciting, passionate fun when it’s happening but empty and dissatisfying when it’s over for the reason you said. There’s no intellectual stimulation. No intimate connection.”
“When was your last relationship?” Rocco asked, trying to force the fantasy of a one-night stand with Jemma from his mind.
“I don’t do relationships. Never have. With my career, I can only manage situations that are uncomplicated and brief,” Jemma said without apology. “Does that sound horrible?”
“Not to me,” Rocco said, wondering if she’d read his fucking mind. That was his philosophy. “My life has been one giant undercover operation since I became a DEA agent. But I’d never ask a woman to put up with that. It wouldn’t be fair to get in deep with someone knowing what I’d ask them to accept to be with me. So I don’t because that’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s not your place to decide for the woman,” Jemma challenged. “Sounds more like a cop-out than a sound reason for avoiding relationships.”
“Are you serious?” Rocco asked, finding himself more enthralled than insulted. “So, that’s not why you avoid relationships?”
“Absolutely not. Everyone should have the right to decide whether they are willing to sacrifice for someone they care for. You can’t do that for them,” Jemma said, then paused as the bartender brought out two more tumblers of rum.
“So, what’s your reason?”
“My reason is that I can’t handle it,” Jemma said, then tossed back the tumbler of rum in one fluid motion. She slammed the glass back on the bistro table. “My work life is complicated enough. I can’t deal with love on top of that. No matter what the romance books and movies say, relationships are fucking messy, and they take a lot of work, attention and mollycoddling.”
Rocco bit back his laughter as a horrified expression crossed her face. But it did nothing to make her any less beautiful.
“You know I’m right. I’m making the decision based on me. Not what I’m trying to protect somebody else from,” Jemma said, rather smugly. “So, what do you think about that?”
“I think we can agree to disagree,” Rocco said.
“You’re not going to debate me on this?”
Rocco couldn’t. Seeing her getting all riled up was testing the limits of his restraint. His cock twitched in his pants, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
He shook his head. “You’re entitled to your views, and I’m entitled to mine. I don’t need you to agree with me.”
“Well, that’s no fun …” Jemma said, a hint of slur in her words.
“I don’t know. I’m having an amazing time.” Rocco glanced down. She’d finished off his rum and hers. “So I take it you’ve never been in love?”
Jemma glared at him as if he’d sprouted two heads.
“I get it … you’re a hider,” Rocco said.
“What does that mean?”
“Most people who haven’t been in love are hiding or seeking,” Rocco said, enjoying the chance to lay out his unfounded theory to her. “Some are seeking love but not finding the right person. Then, some hide from love because they’re not sure what to do if they find the right person. You’re a hider.”
“This is when I come back at you with a riveting argument of how you are so dead wrong,” Jemma said, then flipped strands of her hair over her shoulder. “But I can admit that could be … accurate. So, what about you? History of love? Hiding or Seeking?”
“Never been in love,” Rocco admitted. “But definitely a seeker.”
“Now, that makes no sense. How the hell are you seeking if all you do are one-night stands?”
“I’m seeking the intellectual and emotional connection first, which doesn’t require sex,” Rocco explained. “I need that woman whose mind captivates me, who challenges me and is strong enough to handle me. Someone who can keep my attention …”
“Like a woman you can spend,” Jemma paused and glanced at her watch. “Hours talking to without getting bored or trying to get her in bed?”
Rocco’s smile faded as her words sank in. “Yeah. Like that.”
His eyes locked with hers, a risky game of chicken where neither was willing to blink first. Jemma tried to pretend he wasn’t affecting her as much as she was getting to him, but he could see through the wall she was hiding behind. Jemma definitely wanted him, even if she knew she shouldn’t.
She cleared her throat, then said, “So, how does a doctor turn into a DEA Agent?”