Quinn's Woman

“I get out.”

“I’m talking about spending some time with normal women.”

“I spend time with you.”

Rebecca sighed. “Why can’t you be more social?”

“It’s not my thing.”

“So what is your thing?”

D.J. thought of Quinn. He intrigued her. “There was this guy I met during the war games,” she said.

Rebecca instantly brightened. “Did he ask you out?”

“It wasn’t like that. I captured him, but only because I got lucky. I want him to teach me what he knows.”

“Which is what?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve asked around a little and found out that he works for a secret branch of the military. I’ll bet he knows more about killing people than anyone I’ve met.”

Rebecca shuddered. “Not exactly someone you want to have over for dinner. What’s the guy’s appeal? You don’t kill people. You keep them alive.”

“The more I know, the better.”

Her friend studied her. “You seem very determined. Are you sure this is only about the exchange of knowledge?”

D.J. didn’t bother answering. It was a stupid question. Well, maybe not stupid. There had been that kiss.

She instantly shoved the memory away. The kiss had been nothing, she told herself. Any reaction she’d felt had been brought on by exhaustion or adrenaline or a spider bite.

“Why does your silence sound so guilty?” Rebecca asked.

D.J. did her best not to squirm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I believe that.” She flicked her long hair over her shoulder and shook her head. “If he’s so special, can’t you just date him? Does every encounter have to be a battle?”

“I asked him to teach me some things, but he wasn’t interested. I even offered to pay him.”

“Not exactly the best way to win him over.”

“I don’t want him to like me.”

“Why not?”

It was an old conversation and one D.J. wasn’t about to start up again. Rebecca had never understood her reluctance to get involved with a man. She didn’t get that caring meant vulnerability. Danger lurked in most relationships. Men were bigger, stronger and, for the most part, meaner. Not all of them, of course, but D.J. wasn’t taking any chances.

“I don’t want a boyfriend, just an instructor,” she said. “Don’t try to change my mind. Just tell me how to convince him to help me out.”

“I will, but under protest. You need a good man in your life.”

D.J. rotated her wrist, motioning for Rebecca to get on with it. Her friend smiled impishly.

“There’s only one way to get a man to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

Finally, D.J. thought. Information she could use. “What’s that?”

“Give him the one thing he really wants and can’t get any other way.”

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