The Departed

you’ll call in?”
    He tugged his tie on, tying it in smooth, efficient motions. “It was Taige Br—Morgan that called. She’s already tracking.”
    “Taige?” For the past few years, Taige had been mostly incommunicado with the bureau. Ever since that last injury. Although the injury wasn’t to blame. She’d gotten married, had a real life…finally. Dez was happy for her. Taige needed a real life, something outside the misery the other woman had known for most of her life. But if something was pulling at her, Taige wasn’t going to ignore it, she supposed.
    “Yes.”
    Recognizing the distance, and even more, recognizing the light burning in his eyes, she lifted her cup. “Then you’d better hit the road, boss. If Taige has a live one, it probably won’t take that long for her to track the kid down.”
    He came closer and, for a brief second, her heart stopped. But all he did was angle her chin up so he could scrutinize her neck. Jerking her chin out of his grip, she said edgily, “I’m fine. They wanted me to have somebody with me for the day.”
    She pushed away from the chair and carried her coffee over to the sink. Suddenly it was turning her stomach. She dumped it down the drain and looked at him over her shoulder. “I had somebody with me all day…and all night. Now, if you don’t mind…I need a shower.”
    * * *
     
    THREE days later, she wasn’t handling it quite so well.
    Especially not after what he had just told her.
    “I’m what ?” she demanded.
    “On leave. The next three months.”
    “Oh, hell, no, I am not.”
    Taylor barely glanced at her. “Yes, you are. You took a nearly fatal injury and—”
    “Oh, kiss my ass, Jones. This is not about my injury,” she snarled. She had the presence of mind, just, to slam the door shut behind her before storming over to his desk. Leaning over it, she glared at him. “This is because of what happened. Be enough of a man to admit that.”
    “All right.” Taylor leaned back and folded his hands over his belly.
    It was hard, she realized, harder to look at those hands without thinking about how they had felt on her body.
    “I’ll admit it. I will not deny a strong attraction on my part, and it was unwise for me to act on it.”
    “Unwise,” she mimicked.
    “Unwise, foolish, unethical. Take your pick.”
    It hurt. Unethical, yeah, she’d give him that. It had been unethical. But unwise? Foolish? No. Not for her. Hearing him describe it that way was like having him jab little needles into her heart. “And your solution is kicking me out.”
    “I’m not kicking you out. You do need time off to fully recuperate.” Then the mask fell away and for a brief moment she caught a glimpse of the man who’d so desperately made love to her.
    The man who had held her like she mattered. That was what hurt the most, she realized. He’d made her feel like she mattered…mattered to him , almost the way he mattered to her.
    Dez had never mattered to anybody before. Not personally, at least, not really. And now she was being reminded, again, of just how little she did matter. That it was Taylor delivering her that message was a double blow and it was painful enough to leave her breathless.
    “I can’t do my job when I’ve got you on my mind, Desiree. I just can’t.” He said it in that flat, cool voice and every word was a slap.
    “So this is my fault.” She didn’t blink, didn’t let him see how much this hurt. It wouldn’t do any good, and damn it, she had her pride. Some of it, anyway. What little she could scrape up off the floor.
    “No. It’s mine. But I can’t head the unit if I’m on leave.” He continued to stare at her, and once more, his blue eyes were blank and cool. Emotionless. “Can you think of a suitable replacement?”
    She glared at him. No. She couldn’t. Without Taylor there, walking the razor’s edge that kept this unit going, they’d go under. They were too damned important and she knew it, but too many others outside the unit just didn’t get it.
    “So I get the short end,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and ragged. She wasn’t going to cry, damn it. She wasn’t.
    “Would you just think for a minute?” he snarled. “It’s not like you don’t need the time off.”
    “But three months ?” Her voice broke. She couldn’t…three months. The voices…no. The ghosts that haunted her all too often. They pulled her from her sleep if she didn’t seek them out. She couldn’t go three