And Able

by Lucy Monroe

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but he didn’t give her a chance. He kissed her instead, his lips molding hers, his tongue exploring her lips and the interior of her mouth with a thoroughness that made her tremble.

  When he lifted his mouth, they were both breathing hard.

  Chapter 10

  C ollins turned out to be a taciturn man who reminded Claire a lot of Nitro, but surprisingly, his ways did not put Queenie off. She was happy to stay in the hotel suite with him while Brett and Claire went to work out.

  Warm-up had a whole new meaning when she had to watch Brett stretching his well-developed muscles. Overheated might be a better term. He’d changed into a snug-fitting tank top and athletic shorts for the workout. The sheer mass of sculpted perfection on display overwhelmed her senses and it was all she could do to remember to move from one stretching routine to another. His body was simply incredible. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off its delectably honed contours.

  “If you keep looking like that, the workout you get is not going to be on one of these machines.” His promise-filled drawl rasped along her nerve endings, taking her body temperature to tropical levels.

  She swallowed and forced her gaze to slide away from him. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Just be prepared for the consequences.”

  Her gaze flew back to his and her heart stuttered at the look of naked desire on his face. “We can’t do anything. Not with Queenie in the room.”

  “This is a hotel. We can rent another room.”

  “You’d rent a second room just so we could…”

  Blue sparks of devilment glittered in his eyes. “So we could make love? In a heartbeat. So don’t push it. I’m primed and ready.”

  She looked where he indicated and couldn’t stifle a gasp. He was intimidatingly big and she didn’t think it was the fit of his shorts that made him look that way.

  He smiled at her, his expression full of masculine humor. “Like I said, sugar, primed and ready.”

  “Would it be? Making love, I mean. How could it be? We don’t love each other.”

  “Call it whatever you want, but when it happens, it’s going to blow your image of sex to kingdom come.”

  The dark promise in his voice made her shiver, but she couldn’t help saying, “I think you are being a little ambitious.”

  “I don’t think so. You’ve made it clear you don’t think much of sex. I’m going to show you that it can be every bit as consuming as I’ve said it can be.”

  But for how long? She’d given up on the whole sex thing because it hadn’t been anywhere near mind-blowing, but also because men saw it as something so much less intimate than it was. It required letting someone inside her body…giving part of herself to that person whether they wanted it or not. She didn’t know if it was that way for other women. She’d never asked, but it was definitely that way for her.

  And she didn’t like those consequences one bit.

  “Why are you so against marriage?” The question just popped out. She hadn’t meant to ask it, wasn’t even sure she wanted the answer, but now she’d get it.

  He abruptly stood up and moved to the universal weight machine and started adjusting pulleys. “I was engaged once.”

  She stopped stretching and stared at his back as he settled onto the machine and started doing a reverse butterfly lift. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

  “You were engaged? Mr. No-commitment?”

  “It was a long time ago, before I made that rule.”

  “Is she the reason you won’t commit now?” Claire asked.

  “You could say that.”

  Her stomach knotted in a pain that she didn’t understand.

  Marriage was not on her list of things she most wanted to do before turning sixty, either. She’d seen enough relationships break up and couples cause each other so much pain, her parents included, that she’d never wanted to follow that path.

  But it still hurt to hear him confirm his lack of desire for a commitment after experiencing the sexual desire he’d sparked in her.

  Claire rose to her feet and moved across the room to step onto the glide machine. Next to running, it was her favorite way to exercise. She’d discovered it while living in her first apartment after Fanny died. The complex had had a small workout facility. It had been hard to leave, but with her school schedule, she’d had to cut back her work hours and couldn’t afford an apartment on her own. She’d ended up living with Josette and certainly did not regret that.

  “What happened?” she asked after adjusting the tension to where she liked it.

  Brett did several repetitions on the weight machine and she wasn’t sure he was going to answer.

  When he did speak, his voice came out low and even, no emotion evident at all. “I met her when I was on a covert ops mission for the Rangers. She was a civilian contact for us, working for the current regime. But she didn’t believe in their ideology…she wanted something better, more stable, for her country. She was willing to risk her life to see that happen.”

  He went silent again and Claire wasn’t sure if she should say anything or just wait. In the end, she couldn’t think of anything to say, so she waited and wondered.

  Brett got up and changed his position to do a different muscle group. “I knew I shouldn’t get involved with a local, but neither of us could help ourselves. The attraction was instantaneous.”

  Like it had been with Claire and Brett, but obviously there had been a lot more on his side than a desire for sex with the other woman because they’d ended up engaged.

  “We fell in love and I asked her to marry me. She agreed, but said we had to wait until after the mission.”

  “She put the good of her country above her personal happiness,” Claire said.

  “Yes. It was one of the things I really admired about her. She was from a wealthy family who had prospered under the regime she was so dedicated to bringing down. She was a visionary who saw beyond her own comfort.”

  “I bet she was a good contact to have, considering her position in society.”

  “She was.” He went silent again, switching to another lifting set. Then he said, “Things went FUBAR just when we thought we would complete the mission. We were ordered to pull out. I had another assignment waiting for me.”

  Claire knew what was coming, but wished she could be wrong. “You had to leave her behind.”

  His fiancée had been the reason that Brett had left the military. She was sure of it.

  “I didn’t want to, but my superiors thought if she left right then, too many other positions would be compromised. I asked her to come with me anyway. She wanted to wait until I came back from my new mission. It lasted longer than it was supposed to. I knew I should go back for her, but I had orders and I obeyed them. She was betrayed to her government and killed two weeks before I returned to my base. I didn’t find out until I got there.”

  “You felt like you failed her.” Now she understood all that rhetoric about duty first.

  “I did.”

  “I don’t believe that. She knew the risks she was taking by staying, and you said she had connections. She could have gotten herself out of the country if she’d wanted to.”

  “She was trying when she got betrayed.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “I don’t see it that way.”

  “You aren’t omniscient, Brett. You had no way of knowing she would be betrayed before your mission was over.”

  “The risks were there.”

  “And she knew about them and made her decisions accordingly.”

  “It was my job to protect her.”

  “You tried.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  Claire shook her head, wishing she could help him, knowing his belief in his own culpability was set.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning so much more than just regret over the other woman’s death.

  “I was, too. She was a special woman. So sm
art, she left me for dust sometimes.”

  Claire could not imagine. Brett was the most intelligent person she’d ever known.

  “She sounds amazing,” she forced out past a throat choked by inexplicable tears.

  “She was. She deserves to be remembered.”

  Suddenly it all made sense—his leaving the military, his rule against marriage, or even a majorly committed relationship.

  “Your refusal to ever marry is your way of remembering her, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  He’d set himself up as a living memorial to a dead woman.

  It sounded like his deceased fiancée deserved the kind of devotion Brett was determined to give to her, but that didn’t stop the pain piercing Claire’s heart.

  She would never be more to him than a friend for whom he felt passion. Even if his mind wasn’t set on remaining true to his lost love, there was little chance Claire could even hope to live up to the perfection of the other woman. His lost fiancée had been everything Brett admired and he had loved her. He wanted Claire for sex and that wasn’t the same thing at all.

  Was it enough? No, she knew it wouldn’t be, but what she didn’t know was whether she had the strength to turn away from the passion. She’d never felt anything like it, and even knowing it would mean more pain for her down the road, she had this horrible aching need to give in to it.

  “What was her name?”

  “Elena.”

  “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “She was a beautiful woman.”

  Of course she was. Apparently, Elena had been everything a man could want. Beautiful, smart, and self-sacrificing.

  No normal woman could compete.

  Brett arranged with Ethan to meet for lunch at a small Italian restaurant on the west side. Its quiet ambiance and ample spacing between tables guaranteed the privacy Brett needed for the discussion he planned to have with the other man.

  Queenie told stories about Lester through the main course while Ethan interspersed with information about Lester’s estranged family.

  “Were his sisters and brothers very hurt when he cut off communication?” Claire asked, her brown eyes warm with compassion for people she’d never met.

  “By the time I was born, I think they’d learned to accept it. I don’t remember him ever being referred to in a negative light. In fact, he always figured as this mysterious war hero my cousins and I made up stories about.”

  Queenie smiled. “Lester would have loved knowing that. He never wanted his family to know about his vocation.”

  “Yet he didn’t mind you writing the article?”

  Queenie’s eyes filled with anguished guilt. “He said it was all right, but I knew he was going senile.” Her voice broke and she had to collect herself before going on. “I wanted to expose the government’s perfidy, but it cost Lester his life. I wasn’t ready for him to go.”

  Hotwire watched as Ethan’s eyes narrowed with interest. “What do you mean, the article cost him his life?”

  “I killed him. I killed my Lester.” Her voice trembled and tears filled her eyes, spilling onto her gently wrinkled face.

  Claire’s hand covered Queenie’s, her own expression tormented. “Don’t say that. It isn’t true.”

  “But he wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t written that article.”

  “You don’t know that was what triggered the killer. You can’t know. We weren’t the only people who saw Lester frequently. Nurses, orderlies, and even doctors could have known about his past. He’d gotten to a point where he rambled about it frequently.”

  “He told others?” Ethan asked, his voice having changed subtly, though Brett doubted the women would notice.

  But he knew that tone. It was the voice of an experienced interrogator.

  Claire looked at him, her touch still comforting the elderly woman. “Yes. There’s no way of knowing how many people or even who they were, really. Anyone who came into contact with him toward the end could have learned his secrets.”

  “But it was the government who murdered him,” Queenie said with fatalistic conviction.

  “You think the government is responsible for my great-uncle’s death?”

  Queenie nodded vigorously despite the wetness tracking down her cheeks and the sadness that had settled on her like a mantle. “They didn’t want their secrets exposed.”

  “But I thought you had already exposed them.”

  “I didn’t give the kind of details Lester could have. He asked me not to.” Her mouth wobbled, but she took a deep breath and went on. “Then there was the kill book.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “You have his kill book?”

  “Goodness, no. If I did, you can bet your bottom dollar I would publish it and shame the devil.” She sighed with obvious regret. “It was stolen. I’m sure that was the government’s doing as well.”

  “I work for the state department, Miz Gunther. I can assure you, we don’t make a habit of murdering civilians or stealing their property.”

  The elderly woman gave Ethan a pitying look. “Queenie, please…and I’m sure your part of the government doesn’t, dear boy, but Lester’s kill book says that some agencies do that very thing.”

  “There were organizations that operated during the Cold War that had a great deal of autonomy and operated in utter secrecy.”

  “You don’t think those sorts of organizations exist today?”

  “Perhaps,” Ethan allowed noncommittally, “but a relationship with the government that ended decades ago would hardly be a threat to national security today.”

  “Are you saying you don’t think the government is interested in the kill book?”

  “No, but I don’t think they stole it, either. Uncle Lester was a war vet. If the government wanted to bury his kill book, they would have tried appealing to his sense of patriotism first.”

  “Well, you are entitled to your opinion, of course.” But her tone and expression made it very clear she didn’t share it.

  Hotwire couldn’t help smiling at the snippy response. The old woman was a firecracker for sure.

  But his smile disappeared when Ethan turned to him, his gaze watchful. “Do you think Lester was murdered?”

  “I think it’s a strong possibility. The government wasn’t his only client.”

  “No autopsy was done.”

  “Heart failure is an acceptable cause of death to most coroners when the deceased was in his eighties.”

  “But you don’t buy it.”

  “No.”

  “Uncle Lester was cremated—there’s no way of checking.”

  “Even if we could, there are too many untraceable ways to bring on a fatal heart attack to assume the killer was stupid enough to use a drug that would show in a blood analysis.”

  “That’s true.” Ethan leaned back in his chair, never taking his eyes off Hotwire. “Do you think it’s the government?”

  “I wasn’t on the scene after the death, but I have ample reason to suspect a civ is involved somewhere, and it has been my experience that civilians are the ones most likely to go off half-cocked and kill a man before they check to see if something as important as his kill book is missing.”

  “How do you know Uncle Lester’s killer didn’t take the book the night it disappeared?” Ethan asked.

  Hotwire saw no reason to keep news of the second break-in from Queenie or Ethan now. Soon, the elderly woman would be in Nevada where her dramatics could not affect his investigation or get her killed. And if Ethan was any kind of agent at all, he’d do a routine check on police records pertaining to the people he knew were involved with Lester’s life and find out for himself.

  “Because he searched Claire’s house trying to find it and if the government already had it, the second search the next day would not have taken place.”

  “You can’t be sure that was the government,” Claire said.

  Hotwire reached across the table and tucked a wayward curl behind Claire’s ear. “No, I can’
t, but even if another professional is involved, I think the kill book disappeared before anyone got to it.”

  “But how?”

  “Maybe Lester hid it.”

  “But he had Queenie looking for it the next night.”

  “He was senile, sweetheart. Just because he hid it doesn’t mean he would remember doing so.”

  “So you think it’s still out there, waiting to be found?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes. Now answer a question for me,” he said, focusing on Ethan. “Are you on assignment right now?”

  Ethan grinned. “If I were, I wouldn’t tell you. I might even lie and say I wasn’t, but for what it’s worth, no, I’m not, and I don’t know what branch employed the suits that were at the memorial service. I will say they sparked my curiosity, and Queenie’s suspicions clarify several things for me.”

  “Like you said, you could be lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  But Hotwire had learned a long time ago not to take a man’s word for anything until he knew him well enough to know if he could be trusted. Very few people, male or female, made it into that category for him.

  “You thought Ethan was one of the government agents?” Queenie exclaimed, her eyes wide.

  “He is a government agent.”

  “But I’m not working on this case.”

  “It sure sounds like you’re working.”

  “The man was family. If he was murdered, I want to bring down whoever did it.”

  Queenie gasped suddenly as if just now realizing something. “Your house was searched, Claire?”

  “Yes. He tore it apart.”

  “He?” Ethan prompted.

  “Ask Brett. He’s the expert on these matters.”

  “Are you?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes,” Hotwire replied shortly.

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “You mean you didn’t check me out?”

  “If you work for the government, you are buried deep.”

  “Freelance.”

  Ethan nodded slowly. “That explains it.”

  Claire jumped in with an explanation of the security consulting company he and his friends had started. He listened to her with bemusement as she made him sound like a fricken hero. He shook his head. The woman saw life through some very rose-colored glasses.