The Heart of the Jungle, стр. 21

"I have to be honest with you," Jason said. "I really hope I'm not leading you astray. I really don't have much evidence, but I believe that Michael and your daughter are alive. I trust Rosalita Morales. She wouldn't have lied to me. I'm sure their disappearance is some kind of scheme Brunner concocted. I can feel it in my gut." He shook his head.

"I won't blame you if you want me to back off, but I'm in too deep now to let go." There was a purposeful double meaning in what he was saying.

Chris's response to his bold flirtation had not gone unnoticed. Jason seemed determined to act on the attraction between them that remained unacknowledged. "I just hope there isn't more heartache in this for you."

It was only with supreme effort that Chris was able to meet Jason's eyes. He could read the subtext of what the other man was saying clearly upon his face. As preposterous as it seemed, Jason Kingsley was genuinely interested in him, wanted more than a professional relationship.

Chris said firmly, "I won't let myself be hurt again. It's been too long since I've been in the driver's seat of my own life. It's time I got back behind the wheel."

Jason nodded, understanding the challenge he had just been issued, but the look in his eyes said he was undeterred. "I wonder where our food is."

As if on cue, the screen slid open and Hiroko whispered through in a swirl of silk and delicate footsteps. She quickly laid the table with a delectable assortment of sushi, tempura, and yakisoba and smiled graciously when they thanked her. As they started eating, she excused herself quickly and slid the screen closed.

AS HE walked along the sidewalk in front of his apartment complex, Jason replayed the dinner with Chris in his mind.

He remembered the kindness in Chris's emerald eyes, the grief, and the quiet strength. He replayed the scene at Chris's house where he'd called him a coward, and colored in shame. How wrong he'd been. Chris James was anything but a coward. He'd somehow endured all of the monstrous things visited upon him, and though he had nearly been destroyed, he'd held on. If you looked just beneath the surface, there was grit there. Chris was tenderness with a rock-solid core. There had been a moment when he could almost have brought himself to speak of the guilt and torment that had tattooed blackness onto his own soul, of the sorrow he himself had borne. What was it that made him want to reveal those carefully kept secrets? Chris was a perfect stranger... and yet there was something between them that Jason was at odds to define.

There was a gibbous moon in the evening sky, and a soft breeze, laden with the tangy scent of the sea, blew in from the west. He stopped at the stairwell and breathed deeply, relishing the moment.

A shrill voice floated out of the shadows, interrupting his reverie.

"Well, it's about time."

Jason jumped.

Bradley.

He gritted his teeth, struggling to regain his composure before turning to face the interloper. "What are you doing here?" he asked cautiously, hoping to avoid a scene.

Bradley peeked out of the deep shadows at the base of the steps, brushing at his backside. He walked casually into a pool of streetlamp light and ran a slender hand through unruly blond hair.

He fixed Jason with a pouting, petulant look. "Oh, love the getup," he said, reaching out and straightening Jason's jacket collar.

Jason resisted the urge to flinch away and stood stock still, waiting for the unwanted ministrations to run their course. He stepped back when it became apparent that Bradley would expend no effort to diminish the physical distance between them.

Bradley wrinkled his nose and sniffed pertly, "Oh delish, you smell like grease and raw fish."

"I just came from Hiroko's," Jason said. Bradley was being purposefully provocative. So much for avoiding a scene. He's here for a fight.

"I don't get why you like that dump."

Frustration mounted and he fought to control it. "Come on, Bradley. Are we really going to do this again?"

Bradley's lips formed into an intense pout. "Do what again?"

"It's over. Enough is enough."

Bradley's cheeks flushed. "It's over when I say it's over. You might think you can just write off three years, JayKay"---Jason cringed involuntarily at the sound of the nickname he hated with his very soul---

"but you're wrong if you think I'm going to make it easy for you." He shoved fisted hands against his hips.

Jason took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry you're hurting, but you really have to move on."

Bradley sneered and rolled his eyes. "Don't patronize me."

Although he was trying very hard to avoid a confrontation, he was seized by a sharp flash of anger. How many times was Bradley going to rub their breakup in his face? How many pounds of flesh did he intend to take? Keeping his tone carefully neutral, Jason said, "I've apologized a hundred times in a hundred ways. Believe me, Bradley, I beat myself up over what I did to you far worse than you ever could. This scene is getting tired. It's pointless."

Bradley was silent. Jason could see his shoulders trembling. It was apparent he was fighting for control of his emotions, though stoicism had never been one of his better skills. "You're seeing someone else, aren't you? My side of the bed is barely cold and you're out playing house with some little skank."

He wasn't, of course, but there was no point arguing. He shrugged.

"What if I am?"

"I knew it," Bradley said, as if uncovering some dark secret.

"Our relationship has been over for months," Jason said. "Why should it matter to you?"

"Let me guess, you're shagging one of your clients again? So predictable."

Although he didn't want to fight, Jason's anger was rising to the point that it would soon become inevitable. His hands curled into fists.

"It's time for you to go." He reached out, grasped the smaller man's shoulder, and pointed