by Debra Webb
He shook his head slowly from side to side, halting her attempted diversionary tactic. He placed his own weapon on the table’s glass top, his fingers splayed on the grip. Ian wasn’t going anywhere, she admitted reluctantly, he intended to wait her out. And time was the one thing she didn’t have.
With a beleaguered sigh, Nicole crossed her arms over her middle and proceeded to give him the heavily varnished version. She kept her gaze carefully focused on the carryout box, even licked her lips for effect, but he ignored her not-so-subtle hints. “Three weeks ago my director stayed a little later than usual at the office. Everyone else was gone. Apparently his telephone rang and then exploded.”
Nicole shrugged, then glanced beyond Ian’s shoulder, giving the appearance of eye contact. “I’m sure you can fill in the resulting details.” She had got the call from Daniels. Walked into that office and seen…
Nicole immediately suppressed the details she remembered far too vividly. Especially the image of Landon’s devastated widow at the funeral. “A few days after that—”
“Look at me, Nicole.”
She blinked, hesitated, then leveled her gaze on his. “Satisfied?”
He nodded, once.
She clenched her jaw to prevent the directions she wanted to give him on exactly where he could go. Why hadn’t he just stayed in Chicago and let her do what had to be done? Why did he bother coming after her? Nicole plunged her fingers into her hair and massaged her aching skull. She would never understand the man. Blocking the emotion she knew would give her away, Nicole commanded her body to relax. She dropped her arms to her sides and continued. “Four days after Director Landon’s death, Agent Daniels died in another explosion.”
“What kind of explosion?”
“Gas leak. His house.” Nicole struggled with the effort to keep her emotions at bay. Distance. She was a pro, she knew how to disengage emotionally. Just do it, she instructed silently. “There was hardly anything left to identify.”
Nicole fell silent, unable to continue…unable to look away from Ian’s penetrating, metallic gaze. Years of training weren’t supposed to disintegrate like this. The realization that death was hot on her heels tugged at her composure. Ian’s expression remained perfectly cool, unaffected. His damned black suit and shirt looked as if he’d just put them on. Nicole thought about her own disheveled appearance—unwashed jeans and T-shirt, her hair a mess. She almost laughed. But not Ian. Every perfect, dark hair was in place. The barest hint of five o’clock shadow darkened his rigid jaw, lending him an air of danger.
She had to get out of here. Nicole was out of time. The tangle of emotions she could no longer restrain gripped her with an intensity that shook her to the core. She drew in a harsh breath. How had things got so screwed up? Two people she knew personally, had worked with for years, were dead. She trembled inside, barely concealing the reaction. And now their killer intended to see that she stopped breathing too. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They had taken every precaution.
“Go on,” Ian instructed when she remained silent.
Nicole swallowed the tears of frustration that swelled into her throat and glared at him. “Two days after Daniels’s murder, I received a letter from him, postmarked the day before he died.” She paused. Okay, girl, get a grip. This would be the tricky part. Her attention focused inward, beyond the knot of feelings hovering way too close to the surface. She couldn’t allow Ian to see the lie in her eyes. “Daniels said that he believed someone was trying to kill him. The same person who killed Director Landon. He warned me that if anything happened to him that I should consider myself next on the list.”
Nicole gripped the counter, hard. “That’s it,” she finished, hoping like hell he would leave it at that.
Ian considered her last statement for a time. “Why?”
That tone. That damned irritatingly calm-in-the-face-of-disaster tone. “How should I know?” she snapped. Nicole resurrected the rage she had initially felt upon hearing of Landon’s, then Daniels’s death. She used that anger as camouflage now. “It’s not like we’re the blooming Red Cross.” She flung her arms upward in frustration. “You know how this business works. You make enemies. Lots of them.”
“Why?” he repeated, so annoyingly calm that Nicole jerked with tension.
“I don’t know,” she ground out.
His assessment took about three seconds. “You’re lying.”
Nicole stared at the tiled floor and bit the inside of her cheek. This was pointless. Ian read her too well. She turned and looked him square in the eye. “That information is sensitive. Shared on a need-to-know basis only.”
His long fingers curled around the nine-millimeter’s grip. “Right now, Nicole, you need to tell me the truth more than you’ve ever needed to do anything in your life.”
Nicole rubbed her tired eyes with the heels of her hands. God, she wished this nightmare was over. “I don’t have time for this, Ian.” She blew out a breath of frustration. “Someone is trying to kill me and I have to get out of here.”
“Where are you going?”
She shot him another deadly glare. She wanted to scream—to force him to react. “That’s none of your business.”
Ian stood. Nicole’s tension escalated to a new level. Maybe she would get that reaction after all. His gaze never leaving her, he reached beneath his jacket and tucked his weapon away. She frowned. Why did he do that? Then he walked right up to her, sending her heart into a violent staccato. Ian placed one hand on the counter on either side of her, and leaned in close.
“I’m making it my business.” His accented tone was so soft, yet so clearly lethal.
Nicole steeled herself against his nearness. His scent invaded her senses, making her weak. Making her want to tell him anything he wanted to hear. “Just let me get my things together and I swear I’ll tell you on the way to the airport,” she hedged.
“You’ll tell me now.”
Nicole moistened her lips. “Please, Ian, I can’t miss that flight.”
“Now.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head in defeat. This was a mistake. “Fine.” Nicole opened her eyes and took a long look into Ian’s cool, unsuspecting gaze. What would he do when she gave him that truth he wanted so badly? One thing was certain, helping her wouldn’t be on his mind. Killing her, maybe. Despising her, definitely.
“All right. Three years ago, I was assigned the most sensitive, not to mention the most important, case of my career.” She hesitated, dreading the metamorphosis she would see in those silver eyes. “Landon made the decision. He concluded that as long as the witness was alive, there was no way to ensure absolute safety.”
Ian’s gaze narrowed slightly. “There are never any guarantees. Witnesses know that going into the program.”
Nicole cleared her throat, it didn’t help. “This one was special.”
“How special?” Ian asked cautiously.
“Special enough to warrant a blackout operation.” She leveled her gaze on his, hard as that proved. “Total blackout,” she added.
A trace of denial flickered in his now-wary gaze.
“My assignment was to make sure the world thought this one was dead.” Nicole watched the confusion, then outrage slowly replace the denial. “It was the only way to keep him safe. If anyone had suspected that he’d survived, his life wouldn’t have been worth squat.” She swallowed convulsively. “It was the only way, Ian.”
“The forensics report was conclusive,” he countered, his voice as cold as ice.
“Daniels took care of the explosion and a John-Doe body to keep forensics happy.” Nicole reminded herself to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut before meeting his relentless gaze once more. She would have given almost anything within her power not to have to answer the question she knew he would ask next.
“And what, precisely, were your instructions?” Icy, edged with steel, his words cut through her like a knife.
“It was my job to make sure you failed in y
ours.”
He straightened. Nicole jerked in reaction to the abrupt move. His fists clenched at his sides, a muscle jumped in his jaw. “Why me?”
“You were the best,” she admitted reluctantly, knowing she was only adding insult to injury. “Your reputation was widely known. The cartel would have expected us to use our best. We had to consider every contingency.”
“You’re telling me that Raymond Solomon is alive.”
Nicole backed against the counter as far as she could to escape the arctic chill radiating from Ian. “Yes.”
“You didn’t request the assignment for the publicity of working a high-profile case as you told me? It had nothing to do with competition between the bureau and the marshal service? Nothing to do with getting yourself another promotion?”
Too sick with self-disgust to answer, Nicole slowly shook her head. What had seemed so right, so just at the time, now felt devious and twisted.
Something dark and forbidding surfaced in his eyes, the angles and lines of his handsome face turned to granite. “You played my backup—had sex with me—just to make sure I was properly distracted?”
This was the reaction she had expected, dreaded. Nothing she could say would make him believe that she hadn’t meant things to go so far. That their lovemaking—
“Answer me,” he demanded, that softly accented voice uncharacteristically harsh.
“I did my job.” Nicole pleaded with him to understand with her eyes. “But I swear, Ian, sleeping with you wasn’t part of it.”
He smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Just a little something extra thrown in for good measure, huh?”
Nicole trembled visibly, as much from the anger mounting inside her as the pain constricting her chest, making if difficult to breathe. “I did what I had to do to keep Raymond Solomon safe. The job I was sworn to do. What happened between the two of us was personal.”
He glared at her with so much disgust that Nicole felt sick with the fallout. “You’re damned right it was personal,” he said bitterly. “You allowed me to believe for three years that my negligence had cost a man his life.”
The air raced out of her lungs on a shudder. “Yes, I did,” she admitted. Nicole dragged in a harsh breath. “And I’d do it again if it meant keeping that witness alive.” She laughed then, a short, brittle sound. “The hell of it is, Michaels, you would have done the same thing, and you know it.”
Three long beats passed, the tension thickening with each. Then he released a heavy breath. “Yes. I would have.”
Weak with relief, Nicole watched his features slowly relax, his eyes return to that calm, translucent silver. He might not ever forgive her, but at least maybe he understood. That was something “So.” Nicole straightened, then tucked her hands into her back pockets and went for a subject change. “Are you going to let me eat or what? I told you I’m on a tight schedule here.”
To his surprise, as swiftly as it had risen, Ian’s rage receded. He stepped back so Nicole could move. He watched her slip into a chair at the table, pulling one foot beneath her. She opened a container and quickly lifted a forkful of rice to her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned her pleasure. Ian looked away. His emotions were far too raw now to even look at her.
Relief suddenly washed over him as the realization that Solomon was alive sank in. He had lived with the weight of guilt for so long that he felt lightheaded without it. His instincts had been right all along. The cover story of why Nicole had been assigned to work with him on that case had never really fit, in his opinion. The whole thing had felt wrong from the beginning.
Nicole had betrayed him. Ian had fully expected a different reaction when he finally got the truth. He definitely hadn’t anticipated this complete deflation of his darker emotions. But somehow he just couldn’t manage the wounded warrior bit. The fact that she was following orders cast a slightly different light on things.
But betrayal was betrayal, he reminded himself. He frowned. Nothing. No incensed outrage, no roaring desire to retaliate. He shook his head. He, apparently, wasn’t ready to exact his pound of flesh from Nicole. He glanced at the woman who had wreaked such havoc with his world. But it would take time for him to come to terms with the reality of what had taken place between them three years ago. Maybe he never would. Understanding was one thing, forgiveness entirely another.
But right now, he had a more pressing problem. Someone was running a game. And she seemed to think it had something to do with the Solomon case. Ian crossed the room and sat down at the table with Nicole. Though he might never forgive her for what she had done, he couldn’t live with himself if he allowed anything to happen to her. Nicole Reed presented a facade that was tough as nails, but she had limits just like anyone else. And right now she was very close to exceeding those limits. She needed his help. He would give her the help she needed because he couldn’t do otherwise, but then it would be over. He would walk away.
His decision made, Ian watched her devour the sesame chicken for a while before he interrupted. He smiled to himself when he recalled how frequently Nicole actually forgot to eat. But she always made up for any missed meals when she remembered.
“Who gave Landon the order to take charge?”
Nicole looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know. Daniels and I were given our orders and we didn’t ask questions.”
“You’re certain the threat to your life has something to do with Solomon?” Ian pressed.
She nodded adamantly, then swallowed. “Daniels thought the same thing. He said so in his letter.” She took a quick drink of cola. “There were three of us directly involved in the operation.” Her eyes grew somber. “Two are dead.” She stared at the food in front of her as if she had suddenly lost her appetite.
“All three of you knew Solomon’s final location?” Ian took Nicole’s fork and stabbed a nugget of spiced chicken, then popped it into his mouth.
“No. Daniels had nothing to do with that part.” She frowned in thought. “In fact, I’m the only one who knew exactly where Solomon ended up.”
Ian considered that statement. “What do you mean where he ended up?” He laid the fork aside.
“About six months after his highly publicized demise, Solomon contacted me.” She made a disgusted sound in her throat. “After all we’d been through to plant him safely. I gave him considerable hell for taking such a risk.”
Ian suppressed a grin. “I can imagine.” Nicole smiled warmly, and something inside Ian softened. He immediately checked the reaction.
“Solomon was convinced that someone was on to him.” She shrugged. “So I replanted him and told him I’d kick his—well, that he’d better not rear his ugly head again.”
Nicole pulled one knee up and propped her elbow on it, then plowed her fingers through her long hair. Ian clenched his fingers into fists to prevent the almost involuntary reaction to reach out and touch those long, silky tresses.
“I’ve even considered that it might be Solomon himself trying to kill me,” Nicole said doubtfully. “That way there would be no possibility of a future leak. But I really can’t see that weasel engineering all this.” She massaged her temples. “I guess there’s always the possibility that he contacted someone from his former life.”
“Whoever it is,” Ian assured her, “he isn’t trying to kill you.”
Her startled gaze connected with Ian’s. “Have you been listening at all? You saw my rental car explode. The ambush outside your place—”
“If he intended to kill you, you’d be dead now.”
She searched his gaze, the wheels turning inside that pretty head with this new, unexpected information. “Your basis for that conclusion?”
“The explosive device in your car was remote-detonated.” Ian leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs in front of him. Exhaustion clawed at him, but he ignored it. “He had to be watching. If he wanted you dead, he would have waited until you were in the car, or at least closer.”
Realization dawned in those
sky blue eyes. “You’ve seen the lab report already?”
“The preliminary,” he clarified.
Nicole shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“And any shooter worth his salt would have taken you out sometime during the ninety or so seconds you fiddled with Martinez’s keys before you got into his vehicle.” The memory still sent fear rushing through Ian’s veins.
“Yeah,” she agreed. She stabbed another piece of chicken, but paused before putting it into her mouth. “That was kind of a stupid thing to do.” Those full lips dipped into a worried frown. “If he isn’t trying to kill me, then what is going on?” She dropped the fork and untouched chicken back into the box.
“By the way.” Ignoring her question, Ian cocked a brow and shot her a look. “Martinez is quite upset with you about his brother’s truck.”
Nicole scrubbed a hand over her face, her body language giving away the depth of her own exhaustion. “Sorry,” she offered with feigned humility.
“I would avoid him in the near future.”
Nicole’s forehead creased with her deepening frown. “Just because I borrowed his truck?”
Ian sighed loudly. “Well, you did break his nose.”
“What can I say?” She flared her palms. “The guy had a gun. Old habits are hard to break.”
Ian settled a serious gaze on hers. “Just try and remember which ones are the good guys in the future.”
Nicole sent him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
“Now,” Ian began, turning his attention back to business. “What’s our plan?”
“Our plan?”
“That’s right,” he told her bluntly, his tone brooking no argument. “And this time there will be no secrets.”
“You still want to help me?” The look of genuine surprise mixed with hopefulness in her eyes sucked at something deep inside him. “In spite of what I just told you?”
“Yes.”
Nicole blew out a relieved breath. She was no fool. She knew she needed his help. “All right. I say we stash Solomon some place safe until we can get a handle on what’s going on.”
