She eyed him warily. "What conversation?"
"Those risks you take, Maia. Why do take them?" Jack asked bluntly.
"What are you talking about? My job?"
"Let's begin with the jet ski incident. We never did get around to do a post-mortem of that," Jack said. "Was that truly the only option, Maia?"
"Yes," Maia said indignantly. "I did that to save your parents, Jack. And everyone else."
"Yes. But you see, they are my parents, not yours," Jack said. "Why would you give your life for them like that?"
"I always have a backup plan. I knew exactly how to get off that jet ski before it hit," Maia replied. "I wasn't being suicidal."
"And goading Reznikov to beat you and almost shoot you?" Jack asked acidly. "And taking a shot at that gas tank?"
"With Reznikov, it's a psychological war. Look at his dossier and you know he's a coward. I only wanted to shake him up. He didn't have the guts to shoot me," Maia snickered. "And really? That illeoic gas tank plan was brilliant, Rick was just jealous he didn't get to take the shot. You would have done the same thing," Maia added. "You need to believe in me more, Jack."
He stared ahead at the lines of cars in front of him, confusion muddling his brain. Viktor's words came back to him, aboutneeding to know the woman she is. But then he also remembered what he and Derek had discussed: that Maia was cut from the same cloth as Viktor. There was a thin-line between being suicidal and feeling invincible. Derek thought it was the latter. Maia thinks she can overcome and survive any situation.
"You need to remember that there's me now who worries about you, Maia," Jack replied. "Put yourself in my shoes, will you?"
He reached over to her left hand and brought it to his lips to kiss the back of her fingers.
Jack gave her a wry smile. "All I'm saying is, don't take risks if you don't have to. That's all."
Maia pulled her hand away. Jack felt her retreat, but he wasn't going to let her. He grabbed her hand back and said firmly, "Talk to me, babe. Don't pull away like that."
Maia huffed irritably, that's a good sign. He liked the fire better than the ice. "You know what makes me a good agent, Jack? My willingness to take chances. It's called a calculated risk. If I play it safe all the time, it reduces my effectiveness. Viktor should just stick me in the data center."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Yes! I'm not an analyst."
Jack sighed. He was getting nowhere fast with this.
"Is my job going to be a problem between us, Jack?" Maia asked quietly. "Because I'd rather know now than later before ... before ... I get too involved and it'll be harder to let go."
And just like that, she had handed him the answer.
"After everything we went through, Maia, I'm still here, aren't I?" Jack said and kissed her hand again. "I have no problem with what you do, just how you handle some situations."
That was a lie of course. He was going to make it impossible for her to let go. He was going to show her how much he loved her, spoil her, make the sex so good she would be addicted to him as he already was to her. Bind her to him in a way that would make her give up her reckless ways. Sometimes people took risks because there was nothing to live for; he would make sure that she would want to live for him.
They arrived in Richmond late in the afternoon. The McCords lived on a three-acre manicured estate in the River Road district known for its well-born local gentry. The main house was a magnificent two-story colonial-style brick home. According to Jack, there were ten bedrooms and just as many baths. The front of the property was fenced with a brick and wrought-iron wall that delineated the estate line.
A cobblestone driveway began off the main road and curved and widened in front of the house before narrowing to lead back to the main road on the opposite side of the brick wall. It was a beautiful property befitting a real-estate mogul.
Frances and Robert were already waiting in front of the house when they arrived. Jack had called them when he got off the Route 288-exit.
"Maia!" Frances almost squealed when she saw her. Jack's mom hugged her while Jack shook his dad's hand and gave him what Maia called a man-hug.
"Is that a bruise on your face?" Frances shrieked as she quickly looked at Jack.
Jack rolled his eyes as he kissed his mom on the forehead, "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, Mom."
"Of course not!"
Maia touched her face self-consciously, "Oh no, I think the concealer faded. I got banged up in the last job."