She moistened her lips. “I told you earlier. I’m a federal agent.”
“FBI.”
She nodded. “That’s right”
“Is your name really Grace Donovan?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m supposed to believe this new story? Accept your word for everything?”
“I can show you my ID and my badge if you like.”
“Don’t bother. I’m sure they can be faked just like business cards. And sisters.” He offered her one of the drinks. When Grace declined, he said bitterly, “Oh, that’s right You’re still on the job, aren’t you?”
“Look.” She ran her fingers through her bangs, wondering how she could possibly explain her motives in a way that would make him understand. Make him forgive her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the start But I couldn’t. It wasn’t my call to make.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “So you were just following orders?”
She hesitated. It would be easy to blame everything on her superiors, but the truth was, the deception had been her idea. Hers and hers alone.
She drew a long breath and released it “Maybe I should start from the first”
“Maybe you should,” he agreed. He downed one of the drinks and set the empty glass aside before turning back to her. “I’m listening.”
Grace turned and walked back to the windows that looked out upon the street The surveillance was still in place, but she wondered why that knowledge didn’t alleviate the uneasiness growing inside her. After she told Ethan the truth, would he allow her to stay? Would he accept her protection?
“Three days before Amy Cole was murdered, she walked into the Federal Building here in Houston and asked to speak to an FBI agent. She said it was urgent. The man she eventually talked to was Joe Huddleston.”
She sensed rather than saw Ethan’s surprise. “The agent who was killed tonight?”
Grace nodded. “Joe and I went through training at Quantico together. We’d kept in touch over the years. He knew that my superior in Washington was coordinating efforts to locate Trevor Reardon. After he talked to Amy, he got in touch with us immediately.”
“What did Amy tell him?” Ethan came to stand beside her at the window.
“She said that her employer, Dr. Ethan Hunter, the renowned plastic surgeon, was using his clinic in Mexico to operate on criminals’ faces for money.”
“What proof did she offer?”
Grace paused. “None. All she had were suspicions.”
He made a sudden, angry movement that startled Grace. “Are you telling me you have no proof that anything illegal went down? This whole thing has been based on one woman’s suspicions?”
“I know how that must make you feel, but—”
“Oh, I don’t think you do,” he said coldly. “I don’t think you have any idea how I feel at this moment.”
“You have every right to be angry,” Grace said, wishing his eyes didn’t look quite so dark and quite so deadly. “But let me finish before you start jumping to conclusions yourself.”
He let that one pass. He turned back and stared out the window with a brooding frown.
“Amy showed Joe Huddleston a picture she’d clipped from the newspaper of Trevor Reardon. It was the same one I showed you. She said that she was almost certain she’d seen Reardon talking with Dr. Hunter...with you...a few months ago at the Mexican clinic.”
Ethan glanced at her, his gaze still hard. “Go on.”
“Like I said before, Joe knew my superior, Myra Temple, was coordinating the Bureau’s efforts to track down Reardon. After Amy left, he called me and told me what had happened. When I briefed Myra, she agreed that we needed to come down here and talk to Amy ourselves, see if her story held water. We didn’t discount the possibility that she could have been delusional, or that she was a rejected mistress out for revenge. We wanted to consider every possibility.
“And after talking with her, both Myra and I believed her. We both thought she was on to something. Myra and I started working with the field office here in Houston to set up a surveillance and possibly a sting if it was necessary to get your cooperation.”
He spared her a brief glance. “Just what were you willing to do to get my cooperation?”
Grace shrugged. “Whatever it took.”
A look she couldn’t define flashed across his face. “I accused you once of being cold, remember?”
“Yes. And you were right.” She forced herself to shrug. “I am cold. Ruthless. I’ll do whatever it takes to catch Trevor Reardon.”
Ethan’s gaze hardened on her. “Why does it mean so much to you?”
Grace tried to suppress a shudder. She wanted to be honest with Ethan, but there were some things she’d never told anyone. Some things she still couldn’t talk about. “He’s a killer. A cold-blooded murderer. I don’t want anyone else to die because of him.”
“And that’s all it is?” Ethan’s voice had a strange quality that Grace had never heard before.
She shivered again. “Isn’t that enough?”
He fell silent for a moment, contemplating everything she’d told him. Then he said, “What went wrong? Why is Amy Cole dead?”
Grace released a long breath. “After talking with her, we didn’t expect you back in the country for at least two weeks. We thought we had plenty of time to set everything up, get everyone in place so that no one would get hurt. But evidently Amy got cold feet. She may even have found out about your impending divorce and then had second thoughts about what she’d done to you.
“When she found out you were coming back early, I think she got in touch with you and warned you that the Feds would be waiting for you. We had the airport staked out, along with your house and Amy’s apartment We thought we had it all covered, at least as best we could with such short notice, but then you chartered a plane and flew into a private airfield. We think you somehow contacted Amy, either by cell phone or through a neighbor, and the two of you made plans to meet at the clinic, possibly to get rid of incriminating evidence. Amy somehow managed to slip through our surveillance, and then hours later, she turned up dead.”
Grace glanced up and saw Ethan’s reflection in the window. He was staring at her, and the look on his face...the expression in his eyes unnerved her.
“That still doesn’t tell me what happened to her,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re implying that I killed her.”
Grace spun toward him. “No, that’s not what I think. That’s not what any of us think. Trevor Reardon followed you, probably all the way from Mexico. He ambushed you at the clinic and made it look like you’d stumbled upon a robbery, an addict looking for drugs. I never thought you killed Amy,” Grace repeated. Somehow she had to make him believe that. She had to at least give him that.
“How did you know to go to the clinic?” he asked.
Grace shrugged. “That was purely a hunch. What I told you before was true—I was supposed to meet Amy that night. When she didn’t show and I found out she’d slipped out of her apartment unseen, I knew I had to find her. I knew she could be in danger. So I went to the clinic, almost as a last measure. When I found out what had happened, I knew I couldn’t tell the police who I really was. The homicide was their jurisdiction, and if they found out Amy had been working with the FBI, we would have had to bring them in on the case. It would have tipped off Reardon that we were on to him, and so I told them I was Amy’s sister.”
Ethan cocked a dark brow, staring down at her. “You didn’t think she might have a real sister who would come forward and dispute you?”
“I knew she didn’t. She’d already told me she had no one, and that she didn’t like to talk about her past. I felt the cover would be reasonably secure.”
“And so then you decided to approach me.” Ethan turned back to the window. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me the truth. Wouldn’t that have been simpler?”
“Maybe,” Grace agreed. “But I couldn’t take that chanc
e. I had no reason to believe you’d be willing to cooperate. Why would you?”
“I don’t know,” he said flippantly. “To save my life, maybe? Because it would have been the decent thing to do?”
Grace said nothing.
After a moment, Ethan said, “I guess my amnesia was a bonus for you then.”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “It made you vulnerable. You couldn’t go to the police without incriminating yourself. And without a memory, without knowing who wanted you dead, you couldn’t protect yourself, either. I made sure you had to turn to me.”
He winced at that. “Tell me something, Grace. How far were you willing to go to get my cooperation?”
“I already told you. Whatever was necessary.”
“Did that include this?” He turned suddenly and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. His eyes were dark and turbulent, his expression like an icy mask. When he kissed her, Grace’s first instinct was to push him away, to somehow try and regain control of the situation.
But a split second later, she felt the ice inside him begin to melt. She knew, instinctively, what he wanted at that moment. What he needed.
She kissed him back with every ounce of her strength. With every fiber of her being. With every emotion that raged through her mind and body and soul.
When he finally pulled away, they both stood shaken by the experience. Grace’s knees trembled weakly, but she forced herself to remain steady, to stare up at him as openly and honestly as she dared.
“That was never a lie,” she finally whispered. “The way I feel about you is something I never counted on.”
His hands were still on her shoulders. He stared down at her for a long time, his breathing ragged. “How do you feel?”
Grace’s heart pounded against her chest. It had been a long time since she’d had a conversation like this. Since she had felt this exposed. “It’s like you said once. We’re connected somehow. I don’t understand it, but...it’s more than just attraction. It’s as if...”
“We’re meant for each other,” he said.
Grace closed her eyes. “But I can’t feel that way. I can’t let my emotions get in my way. I can’t forget who I am or what I have to do. And I can’t forget who you are, either.”
“Who I am.” His hands dropped from her shoulders and be turned and walked away from her.
Grace hesitated, unsure whether or not to follow him. But he didn’t go far. He walked to the center of the room and stood looking around, as if he suddenly realized he didn’t belong there.
For a long moment, neither of them said anything, then he turned to her. His gaze was shadowed with an emotion that made Grace’s breath quicken. “I’m not the man you think I am.”
“You’ve said that before.” She moved across the room toward him. “And I think I understand why you feel that way. It’s like there’re two sides of you. One man operates on criminals’ faces for money, while the other can change monsters into angels. That man can give children without hope a whole new life. That’s the man you really are, Ethan. That’s the man you remember. The other one doesn’t seem real to you because you don’t want to be him.”
Uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Then his gaze darkened again. “That’s a rather whimsical explanation for an FBI agent, Grace. I don’t think you buy it any more than I do.”
“You’re wrong. I do believe it.” On impulse, Grace put a hand on his sleeve, felt him tense at her touch. “I know there’s something fine and decent about you. I know there’s goodness in you, just like there’s darkness.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Who knows what brings that darkness to the surface, but I think we all have the capacity for it. I think there’s darkness in all of us.”
His brow lifted at that. “Even you?”
She gave a bitter little laugh. “Maybe even especially me. I’m not sure I’m in any position to judge you, no matter what you’ve done.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. He’d turned away and walked back over to the window to stare out After a bit, he said, “It’s been a long day and I’m beat. We can talk about this in the morning, decide what to do then.”
Grace had brought a bag over earlier before they’d gone to the Huntington, but after her confession, she wasn’t sure he’d let her stay. But it appeared now that he’d accepted her presence, and for the time being at least, wasn’t going to ask her to leave. Grace was glad. She would hate to have to force the issue now.
“That’s probably a good idea,” she agreed. “We could both use some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She waited for him to turn and acknowledge her leaving, but he remained at the window, his back to her. He didn’t even say good-night, and after a moment, Grace turned and left the room.
A FEDERAL AGENT. A cop.
Ethan should have known. And maybe a part of him had known. He couldn’t say her revelation had come as that much of a shock. He’d always known there was something Grace wasn’t telling him. That there was more to her than a grieving sister.
No wonder she had seemed so confident in her ability to deal with Trevor Reardon. She was trained to deal with the likes of him.
Ethan thought about that for a moment. How did that make him feel? he wondered. Knowing that Grace was an agent who had not only been sent here to find Reardon, but to also protect Ethan in the process. How did he feel about his life being put in a woman’s hands? In Grace’s hands?
He tried to muster up the requisite resentment, but it wasn’t in him. There were too many other things about the situation that troubled him more. The fact that she had lied to him, deceived him into believing she was Amy’s sister. The fact that those lies had seemed so easy for Grace.
He’d been a means to an end for her. It was as simple as that.
Oh, he knew she was attracted to him. She couldn’t hide it and she hadn’t bothered to deny it. But her desire to find Trevor Reardon far exceeded her desire for Ethan, and that fact bothered him the most. She was a consummate professional before she was a woman, and Ethan knew that situation wasn’t likely to change any time soon. At least not for him.
He remembered the way her eyes had burned with an inner fire when she’d first told him about Reardon, and an uneasiness Ethan couldn’t explain swept over him.
What was it about Reardon that made Grace so passionate in her hatred of him, that made her almost careless in her pursuit of him?
What had made this assignment so personal for her?
Ethan knew the answer even before the question had completely formed in his mind, and a sick feeling rose in his throat as he stood staring out into the darkness.
GRACE STOOD WRAPPED in a towel at the bathroom mirror as she blow-dried her short hair. Afterward, she gazed at her reflection for a long time, wondering if she had done the right thing by telling Ethan as much as she had. But she hadn’t really had a choice. Once he’d decided to go to the police with the story, she’d had to tell him the truth, and trust that he would continue to cooperate with her.
But why should he? She’d lied to him, deceived him at every possible turn. Why would he want anything more to do with her?
The end may have justified the means, but right now, Grace was having a hard time dealing with her conscience. She had deliberately put Ethan’s life on the line in order to capture Reardon, and she hadn’t even had the decency to tell him why. At least not completely.
Her past was something Grace had never told anyone. She couldn’t even talk about it with Myra. What Trevor Reardon had done to her and her family was too personal, and Grace had never gotten over the guilt, let alone the shame.
She hadn’t told Ethan because she hadn’t wanted to see the disgust in his eyes over what she had done.
Grace didn’t want to see it in her own eyes, either. She turned away from the mirror and walked into the guest bedroom where she’d left her suitcase earlier. Digging through the contents, she pulled out a pair of white silk pajamas and put them on. As she wa
s turning down the bed, the door behind her opened.
Grace grabbed her gun from the top of the night-stand, going instantly into a crouch while, with a two-handed grip, she swung the weapon toward the door.
Ethan stood just inside the room, his gaze going first to the gun in her hand, then to her face. He wore jeans, no shirt, and his dark hair glinted with moisture, as if he’d just come from the shower. Grace’s hand trembled on the weapon as she stared at him, her awareness of him surging over her in a crest of heat.
As he walked into the room, she hesitated, then slowly lowered the weapon. She placed it on the night-stand behind her.
Ethan came over and stood in front of her. He didn’t touch her, but his nearness made Grace’s breath quicken. The look on his face made her heart pound inside her. She was tempted to put her hands on his bare chest, to feel the hardness beneath her fingers.
“You’re her, aren’t you?”
Grace stared up at him as a shock wave rolled over her. “What are you talking about?”
“The FBI agent’s daughter you told me about. The only one in his family who didn’t get killed in the fire. The one Trevor Reardon came back for. You’re her.”
She turned away, but he put his hands on her arms, forcing her to face him. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“I couldn’t. After all these years, it’s still too...painful.” And she still couldn’t look at him.
He put one hand under her chin, tilting her head up so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze. What she saw in his eyes wasn’t disgust. It was another emotion that took Grace’s breath away.
“What happened that night?” he asked softly.
“Please.” Her eyes closed briefly. “I can’t talk about it. I’ve never talked about it.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you did?”
“It’s too personal.” She put trembling fingertips to her lips. “I don’t think I can tell you. I don’t think I want you to know.”
Lover, Stranger Page 17
