My Spy

by Marie Ferrarella

  “What?” How could she say he’d like being left behind to the mercy of the thugs who’d already shot him? The woman wasn’t making any sense. The tabloids were right about her. She was crazy.

  Pru had a perfectly logical reason behind her accusation. She took a deep breath as the path became a little steeper. His muscles weighed a ton. Why couldn’t the man have been some ninety-eight-pound weakling?

  “So you can tell everyone that it’s true. That that horrible nickname those awful people at the tabloids gave me is accurate.”

  It took him a second to remember. “You mean Pru the Shrew?”

  Despite the sparse amount of moonlight, he saw her jaw tighten. He’d struck a nerve, he thought. Always good to have at least one available weapon in your arsenal.

  “That’s the one.”

  Joshua did his best not to put all of his weight on her, pivoting as much as he could on his good leg, using the momentum to propel himself along.

  “Never crossed my mind,” he told her. “I just didn’t want to slow you down. And for your information, I never read the tabloids.”

  She’d caught him in a lie, she thought. “Then how would you know about the nickname?”

  “The front page,” he answered. “The magazines are at the checkout stands. I can’t help but take in my surroundings.”

  “The checkout stands?” she repeated, measuring out her breaths. A misstep had her nearly twisting her ankle, but she righted herself in time. She turned to look at him and was struck by the fact that his face was much too close to hers. But there was nothing she could do about it, short of dropping him. “As in the supermarket?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You shop in the supermarket?” she asked incredulously. He’d said something about that earlier, but she really couldn’t picture the man who had come pitching headfirst into that dingy back room pushing a grocery cart up and down aisles laden with neatly boxed products. She would have bet that he didn’t even know where a supermarket was located.

  “Yes.” He couldn’t quite fathom her tone. “Why, what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing.” She turned her face toward the road, feeling it was better that way. But he was still looking at her and she could feel his breath on her neck. It muddled her thoughts just a little. “I just thought you’d be the type to get your meals from restaurants—or partake a service from the flat stomach of a willing—shall we say, tart?”

  His mouth curved despite the pain shooting up and down his leg and exploding in both the pit of his stomach and the center of his chest. “Well, I’ll be sure to give that a try sometime.”

  “Glad I could give you something to look forward to.” His arm was beginning to weigh a ton. If she hadn’t been in such good shape, she wouldn’t have been able to make it even this far. She looked around, but visibility was poor, even if it wasn’t pouring any longer. She didn’t see a cottage or any other kind of residence. “How much farther is this place?”

  He hadn’t lost his bearing, but things looked different from this vantage point than when he’d been driving. “Looked to be about five minutes as the crow flies.”

  That did absolutely nothing for her. “How far is it if the crow is walking and dragging a wounded secret agent man with it?”

  “Longer,” was all he could estimate. “And by secret agent, I take it you mean S.I.S.”

  She began to shrug and found that the effort was too cumbersome with his arm across her shoulders. “S.I.S., MI-6, CIA, or some such alphabet soup rendition.”

  Joshua shook his head. He took a breath before answering. His thigh was beginning to feel as if it really was on fire. “None of the above.”

  For the moment, she decided to believe him. Which narrowed down the field. “Are you a mercenary, then, hiring out to the highest bidder?”

  “Hardly.” Agents of the Lazlo Group did not identify themselves unless it was absolutely unavoidable. The less attention brought to the group in general, the better. For now, it was enough that her father knew they were on the job. “Let’s just say that I belong to a highly skilled group of people who rescue damsels in distress out of the clutches of ill-mannered ogres.”

  Pru stopped for a moment to look at him. “That sounds like a bad rendition of a Grimms’ fairy tale. Bullet graze your head, too?” she asked sarcastically. “Who are you with, really?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say right now.” He saw her frown. “But if it helps any, I am on your side.”

  That wasn’t nearly good enough for her. “I never have anyone I don’t know anything about at my side, Lazlo.”

  He didn’t think it would be wise to point out that that was exactly where he was right now, at her side. Instead, despite the sharp twinges of pain racing up and down his extremity, he moved ahead. “In this case, I’m afraid you’re going to have to put up with a little mystery until we get you back to your father.”

  She still wasn’t convinced. “Before or after the ransom?”

  Joshua caught his bad leg in some underbrush, almost tripping. He bit back a vicious curse. “You think I rescued you to get a ransom?”

  Pru had almost pitched forward and it took everything to remain upright. She steadied him as best she could, her heart racing from the exertion. “Did you?”

  Maybe it was time to let her in on a few things. “Prudence, you weren’t being held for ransom to begin with.”

  “Then why—?” Stunned, she didn’t see the root until it was too late. This time it was Joshua who kept her from falling. Unlike him, she didn’t hold her tongue. The air turned blue as they stopped a second to regroup.

  Amused, Joshua asked, “Your father know you curse like a sailor?”

  She was tired, cold, hungry and wet. Not the best of conditions for an even temper. “My father knows very little about me,” she snapped, hurt feelings rising to the fore. “He is wrapped up in politics, his second wife and his ‘other’ children, in that order.”

  Joshua caught the absence of Pru in that lineup. She was feeling sorry for herself. Under the circumstances, he supposed she was entitled. But too much of that would definitely get in their way.

  “That’s not true, you know. He’s worried, very worried about you.”

  Pru shook her head. She knew better. “He’s worried about the effect this will have on his career.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Something more important needed addressing. “You said something about my not being held for ransom. Then why were they holding me?”

  He hesitated a moment, then decided she needed to know what she was up against. That she’d been a bargaining chip. “To get your father to vote down the sanctions bill he’s been backing.”

  She laughed shortly, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. God, she hoped they were going in the right direction. “They don’t know my father very well, do they?”

  She really didn’t know how much she meant to the PM, did she?

  “Apparently you don’t, either,” he told her. She looked at him. He could feel her breath along his face. She was struggling and he felt bad about it. Not to mention that his pride was taking a beating. “Because he told me he’s going to have to vote the bill down unless I find you and bring you back.”

  She was stunned. This was her father’s baby, the cornerstone of what he believed in. “My father actually said this?”

  Joshua nodded, then said, “Unless the British government has learned how to effectively clone their upper officials.”

  “Almost makes this worth it,” she murmured, then stumbled again. She took a deep breath, getting a better grip on him. When were they going to get to this so-called cottage he’d seen? “Damn, but you are heavy.”

  It made him feel guilty and frustrated at the same time. If anything, he should be the one carrying her, not being supported by her. “Sorry, wasn’t planning on having someone drag me around.”

  “I’m not dragging,” she informed him indignantly. “I’m supporting you.”

&n
bsp; He grinned, amused that she’d picked the word he’d actually thought. “And doing a fine job of it, too, Prudence.”

  The tone he used left Pru completely undecided as to his meaning. Was he being sincere or sarcastic? From the opinion she’d formed of him, it was most likely the latter—but his smile looked sincere.

  Taking a firmer hold around his waist, trying to ignore the steady stream of perspiration snaking its way down her spine, Pru drew a long breath and prayed this journey was going to be over soon.

  It wasn’t soon enough.

  Just as she was about to give up and just plant herself on the ground for the remainder of the night, temporarily past caring if her kidnappers found her, a small, quaint one-story building emerged from the mist. It was nestled in the middle of what appeared to be a well-tended garden.

  She thought she was hallucinating, but if she was, it was a hallucination for two because the man she had her arm wrapped around suddenly came to life.

  “We made it,” he told her with more feeling than she herself possessed.

  Pru felt close to passing out. Everything ached, and she needed food and a shower. But most of all, she needed a bed. She could have wept, seeing the small abode, but running toward it was out of the question. Aside from still supporting the secret agent, her legs felt as if they were not only lead, but belonged to someone else. She couldn’t make them move any faster.

  “This really does look like a cottage,” she said to him as they drew closer. There was no light coming from inside, but there had to be someone there, she reasoned. There was a car parked in the front. “Something a caretaker would live in.” Squinting, Pru tried to see into the distance. “Except that there is no large estate anywhere.”

  “That we can see,” Joshua pointed out.

  Since visibility was less than twenty feet ahead, she was forced to agree with him. There were no lights on, but given the hour, maybe whoever lived inside had gone to bed. If so, they could be roused.

  Excited and hopeful now, Pru began to make her way up to the front door. But then she was prevented from making any further progress. Joshua had turned from a heavy weight to a lead one. He firmly resisted moving toward the door, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Obviously, the man still had some strength left, she thought, annoyed. But why pick now to demonstrate it?

  When she looked at him quizzically, Joshua hissed against her ear. “What are you doing?”

  Had he turned simple on her? “What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped. “I’m going to knock on the door—”

  “No,” he told her firmly.

  “No?” She glared at him. “No? Then why the hell did I just drag you heaven knows how many kilometers to get to this wretched place if we’re not going to rouse the owner and get him to help us?” The bloody fool just wasn’t making any sense at all.

  Releasing him, she began to make her way up alone, only to have Joshua grab her firmly by the wrist and pull her back into the shadows. He hobbled as he did so, gritting his teeth, but if she thought to suddenly push him away and make a break for it, she knew it would be no easy matter. He had a grip like a steel vise.

  “No,” he repeated heatedly. He thought a second, casting about for a plan. He needed to call Lazlo, but his phone had no signal. Maybe he could use the phone inside the cottage. But waking whoever was staying here was not part of the plan. “Try one of the side windows.”

  Pru stared at him, still confused. “You mean break in?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Did all so-called spies take the hard way when there was an easier one available to them? Well, she wasn’t about to blindly follow orders. She wasn’t about to be ordered around at all.

  “Why? Why can’t we just ring the bell and wake them up?” she demanded.

  Her voice was becoming audible. He pulled her to him and covered her mouth, his eyes intent on hers. “Because right now, we don’t know who’s involved with your abduction.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. Beneath his palm, she managed to query, “And you think one of the seven dwarfs is involved in it?”

  It did look like a fairy-tale cottage, he thought. But that didn’t change the fact that it could still belong to someone who found both their lives expendable. “Right now, everyone’s a suspect until they’re ruled out.” Very carefully, he withdrew his hand from her mouth, watching her.

  Pru shook her head. Paranoia had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. Not her own, but her father’s and the bodyguard she’d had assigned to her as an adolescent. She’d never allowed it to drag her down or get in her way. Now was no exception.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “That’s practical,” Joshua countered. He held her by her arms. It was unclear to her whether it was to hold her in her place or keep himself from sinking. “Why did you think that you were brought out here instead of someplace else?”

  She hadn’t given the matter any thought at all. All she’d thought about was getting away. It had seemed like a simple kidnapping case to her, money in exchange for her life. Now, according to this man, there was a great deal more at stake. She’d always hated intrigue, but she couldn’t exactly turn her back on it.

  “I don’t know,” she acknowledged grudgingly.

  He gave her the answer. “Because those men might have connections here.”

  Okay, she was back to bloody square one again. “Then why did we just have a three-legged race to get here?” she demanded again.

  On his own power, Joshua had hobbled over to the vehicle. It was less risky making the call from a public place—provided he could find a public place, he thought. He placed his hand on the passenger door and looked at her. “For this.”

  The vehicle was a truck and at least ten years old. It had seen its share of labor. Joshua covered either side of his eyes and looked in through the window. “Let’s hope there’s gas in the tank.”

  “Doesn’t do us much good without the keys.” The minute she pointed that out, Pru realized that probably wasn’t going to be an obstacle for Secret Agent Man. She looked at him. “Or are you one of those men who know how to grab two wires and make the car go?”

  He spared her a smile. “Yeah, I’m one of those guys.”

  Prudence tried the door. Locked. She frowned. “How are you going to get in? You don’t have a coat hanger.”

  Very gently, glancing back at the house to make sure that no one had turned on a light or appeared in the window, Joshua moved her aside. His back was to her and he was doing something with the keyhole. She thought she detected the sound of metal against metal.

  “Don’t need one,” he told her. The next second, the driver’s door was opened. He hit the lock release. “Get in.”

  She did, then opened the glove compartment. Inside was a jumbled mess, but she found a stub of a pencil and what looked like a faded receipt. Joshua had dragged himself into the driver’s seat and was working on the wiring beneath the steering wheel. When he looked up, she was getting out of the truck again.

  “Hey,” he called after her as loudly as he dared. But she didn’t turn around. Instead, she ran to the front door. Stooping down, she placed whatever she’d scribbled down sticking out from beneath the worn mat. The next minute, she came running back just as the old truck rumbled to life.

  “What did you do?” he wanted to know, losing no time in driving away.

  She settled back. The seat belt on her side, she noticed, was stuck. She gave up trying to use it. “I left a note.”

  His mouth fell opened. “You did what?”

  “I left a note,” she repeated. “Saying that we’d bring the truck back.” In her mind, it was the right thing to do, despite the dire circumstances they found themselves in. What if this was an innocent bystander? They didn’t deserve to think that their truck had been stolen. “I didn’t want him to worry it was stolen for good.”

  “And your note is supposed to make this guy feel better?” he asked incredulously.
This certainly didn’t fit the pattern of Pru the Shrew.

  “I said we’d bring it back,” she reminded him.

  He snorted. “So he’s supposed to believe the word of a car thief.”

  “Car borrower,” she corrected vehemently. “And why not?”

  Joshua was at a loss for words. He didn’t know where to begin to answer that. So he didn’t.

  Chapter 7

  The silence within the cab of the truck surprised him. She’d stopped talking, as if following his lead. At any other time, he would have enjoyed that. But right now, he needed to know something and he was praying for the right answer.

  “Did you sign your name to it?” Joshua finally demanded. “The note,” he emphasized when she didn’t say anything in response immediately. “Did you sign your name to it?”

  He didn’t realize, until she spoke, that the reason she hadn’t answered was because she was fuming. At him. “No, I didn’t sign my name to it. How stupid do you think I am?”

  He was tempted to answer that, but he had no idea how she would react and he was taking no chances. “Then whoever’s truck this is has a promissory note from an anonymous person telling him that his vehicle will be returned. Eventually.” He slanted her an incredulous look. “That should comfort him.”

  Just what was he driving at? “You’d rather I signed it?”

  She’d missed the damn point. She’d left fingerprints on the paper. Fingerprints that could be traced. “I’d rather you hadn’t done anything at all.”

  Easy for him to say. The man probably hadn’t had a conscience since he was five. She, however, wasn’t like that. “I’m not a thief.”

  He spared her another look and saw that she was genuinely indignant. “No one said you were. Desperate times, desperate measures.”

  Joshua paused for a moment, easing his foot off the gas. Trying to get his bearings. He knew roughly where he was. Very roughly. They were both exhausted and could do with getting a little rest if not actual sleep. But he wanted to put more miles between them and her captors before he thought about putting his head to a pillow. Making a decision, he pressed gently down on the accelerator again, going due south.