by Dee Davis
With a last lingering look, he headed back into the hallway, intent on finding Annie. There were things they needed to hash out. Questions only she could answer. Moving with determination, he rounded the corner, almost colliding with Annie coming from the other direction.
Acting on instinct, he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling, the soft silk of her robe sending less-than-pious thoughts racing through his head.
“I thought I heard you, but then I wasn’t sure,” she whispered.
They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, then with a groan he bent his head to kiss her, his mouth taking possession of hers. He pulled her close, her body heat radiating through the robe, the sweet smell of soap and shampoo teasing his senses.
He knew that they needed to talk. But just for the moment he wanted to hold her. To feel her heart beating against his. Her lips fluttered under his kiss, and he felt the fire growing in intensity. A tiny moan escaped her lips. With ruthless precision, he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Their tongues met, thrusting and retreating, dueling for some unknown prize.
He felt himself harden as he pressed against the soft flesh of her thighs. Images of last night flowed into his brain. The rain, the chaise, her eyes closed in abandon as she cried out his name.
His breathing coming in rasps, he moved his mouth, trailing moist kisses down the side of her neck. She threw her head back, allowing him access, her eyes still closed. Pushing back the edge of the robe, he kissed the soft smooth skin of her shoulder as his hand found her breast.
He felt her nipple tighten as he rolled it lightly between thumb and forefinger, satisfied to hear her breathing become labored. Exchanging lips for hand, he circled the taut bud with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the contrast between her nipple and the silken skin of her breast. He could feel the fire building, threatening to consume him.
Lifting his head, he found her lips again, his tongue invading the hot, wet sanctity of her mouth. She pressed herself to him and he placed his hand on her bottom, pulling her even closer, nestling against the hot crevice between her thighs.
He tangled his other hand in her hair, feeling the fine strands wrap around his fingers, clinging with almost a life of their own. He circled her lips with his tongue, tasting toothpaste, and Annie. All he wanted to do was hold her—never let her go. His hand dipped lower, but she jerked away, struggling for breath. “No,” she whispered. “We can’t. Not here. Not like this.”
For a moment he was stunned, her withdrawal almost physically painful. But then he nodded, remembering her son just down the hall. He reached for her hand, already moving toward his room and his bed.
“I can’t,” she said again, resisting him, her eyes pleading. “Not until we’ve talked things through. Please?”
He sighed and nodded, pushing away his need. No matter how badly he wanted her, she was right. Too much had happened in too short a time. There were still too many shadows between them.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have assumed…”
“After last night, you had every right. But I need you to listen to what I have to say first. Then if you still want me…” she trailed off, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“If this is about Dominico—my not believing you—look, Annie, I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions I shouldn’t have. It seems I’ve been doing that a lot.”
“It wasn’t your fault. The evidence was pretty overwhelming.” She shook her head, her eyes dark with remorse. “Anyway, it’s not about that, at least not directly. There’s something I need to tell you.”
He nodded, something in her voice setting off his internal alarm. Whatever she had to say, he had the feeling it was going to change everything. Except that considering the events of the past forty-eight hours, he couldn’t see how that was possible.
“Come to my room,” she said, her tone calmer. Stronger. “We can talk there.”
He followed her down the hall, trying to collect his thoughts, to dampen the fire still burning inside him. It had always been like this between them. Fire and ice. One minute passion burning out of control and the next reality dousing the flames with cold-hearted abandon.
He followed her into her room, shutting the door behind them.
Annie twisted her hands nervously, sat on the end of the bed, and then jumped up again, walking over to the window. She stood with her back to him, her shoulders tense with trepidation.
“What is it?” he asked, his own stomach churning as he tried to guess what it was she wanted to say. “Just tell me.”
“It’s about Adam.” She turned around, licking her lips in nervous anticipation. “I lied to you. His father isn’t dead.”
“What are you telling me? That Adam’s father is still part of your life?”
“No.” She shook her head, a tiny smile lifting the side of her mouth. “Well, sort of. Hell, I’m not handling this right at all.” She frowned, clearly having trouble ordering her thoughts. “Do you remember when we were talking to Tom about Adam—and I said that he knew how much Adam meant to me. What I’d given up for him.”
Nash nodded, his brain turning as he tried to figure out what she was trying to tell him.
“Well,” Annie said, twisting her fingers together, “I was talking about my career. Nash, the reason I agreed so easily with Tom’s suggestion that I go underground was because of Adam. I was already pregnant when we went to Saida.”
He sucked in a breath, her words grinding home, his mind kicking into gear, the truth presenting itself front and center. It had been there all along. He just hadn’t allowed himself to see it. He lifted his gaze to hers, the words coming out on a whisper. “Adam’s mine.”
She nodded, still chewing on her lip. Then she sucked in a deep breath, hands still linked together for fortification. “Yes. Adam is your son. I found out I was pregnant right before we were assigned the mission in Lebanon.”
His mind went numb as he tried to grasp the meaning of her words.
He was a father.
Adam’s father.
Annie’s baby had been his. There was no other man.
His head spinning, he sank onto the bed, bracing himself with his hands. “So when Tom tried to railroad you, you gave in to protect our son.”
“Yes. When Tom told me my cover was blown, it seemed the perfect opportunity to make my escape.”
“And you never thought of telling me?” Somewhere beneath his confusion, he could feel anger stirring. He had a son, and she’d kept it from him for almost eight fucking years.
“Of course I did,” she said, moving to sit in the chair opposite the bed. “I tried to tell you that night in Vienna, before we left for Lebanon. But all you could talk about was A-Tac and your new position and how—”
“There was no room in our lives for commitment,” he finished for her, his own words echoing in his ears. “Or for family.”
“You were adamant about our relationship only being a product of the moment—the kind of life we led.” She nodded. “I guess I’d always thought we were a team, in every sense of that word. But when you told me you were leaving, I couldn’t tell you I was pregnant. I’ve always hated women who try to trap a man.”
“And you thought if you told me, I’d react just like your father,” he said, guilt diluting his anger.
“Yeah,” she said, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“So you kept quiet.”
“Yes. Although I didn’t think it was going to be forever. I thought eventually I’d find a way to tell you. I always believed you had the right to know. But then everything went to hell in Saida.”
“Oh, my God,” he said, horror replacing all other emotion. “When you went back into the building—to try to find me—you were… Oh, my God.”
“It was the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make. But I couldn’t let you die. I just couldn’t.” Her tears fell in earnest now. “And you have to know that if I had to do it again, I’d make
the same choice.”
“But you both could have died.”
“And I could have lost you.”
Silence held for a moment as Nash tried to sort through his cascading emotions.
“Did he know?” he asked, finally, clenching his fists against the emotions rocking through him. “About Adam. Did Tom know?”
“Yes, I told him. I needed his help.”
“And he sent you into Saida anyway. You should never have been there.”
“I didn’t have a choice. I had to find a way out, and Tom promised to help me if I finished this last mission.”
“I just can’t believe you went to him instead of me.”
“You told me I was clinging to something that never really existed. That our relationship was born of necessity and loneliness, not of anything lasting. What the hell did you expect me to do?”
“I was a real bastard,” he whispered, his heart twisting at the pain reflected in her eyes.
“No.” She shook her head. “You were honest. I was the one living in a fantasy world, believing that there was some way we could build a normal life together. But that didn’t change the facts. I was carrying your baby. A child I found I wanted very badly. So when Tom offered me the chance to get out, I took it.”
“So that’s it? You never looked back?”
“I told you I came to see you, right after the explosion. I begged Tom to let me come, to see for myself that you were okay. At first he refused, saying it was too dangerous for both of us—especially you—but finally he gave in. And I was prepared to tell you then. I thought maybe it would help. Only you were completely out of it. You never even knew I was there. And then Tom insisted I had to make the break, for your sake as well as for mine and the baby’s.”
She leaned forward, resting her head on her hands. “I don’t know, maybe I let go too easily. But you’d been more than clear about what you wanted. So I just let Tom take over. He made all the necessary arrangements. And a few weeks later I had a new life”—her voice caught on a sob—“without you. But the baby was safe and that’s what mattered the most.”
“I see,” he said, still trying to make sense of the nonsensical.
“I did try one other time,” she said, looking up to meet his gaze, her eyes filled with tears. “I had a weak moment. I needed you, and I wanted you to know your son. So I called Tom. It was the first time I’d talked to him since the night he put me on a plane to Colorado. In the beginning, he sent me progress reports on your recovery, but once it was clear that you were going to be all right, the letters stopped. Anyway, I told him I wanted to see you. That I needed to tell you the truth. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but I insisted, and finally he agreed to talk to you.
“I waited for three days to hear back. Hoping. Praying. Feeling stupid and vulnerable at the same time. But when the call finally came, it wasn’t from you. It was Tom. He told me you’d refused to see me. That you’d gone on with your life and I should get on with mine.” Tears dripped down her face as she angrily wiped them away. “I never tried again. In fact I never talked with anyone from the Company again. Tom included.”
“He never talked to me, Annie.” Nash’s anger shifted toward Tom as he thought about what it must have cost Annie to reach out. And how much it had clearly hurt her to believe she was being rejected. “I never got the call.”
“So many lies,” she said, a tremor of pain in her voice.
“He has your eyes,” Nash said, not sure where the thought had come from, but unable to stop himself.
“But he’s so like you. I see it in him every day. Sometimes it feels like living with a ghost.”
“So why did you decide to tell me now?” He sounded harsher than he’d meant to, but there was a part of him that still felt betrayed. Even knowing he’d probably brought it on himself with his callous comments on that night so long ago.
“I think I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was afraid of what you’d say. What you’d do. Then we made love and I was so full of hope…”
“And I betrayed you again. Believing that you were involved in all of this somehow.”
“It was hard to hear you say that. And also you’d made it so clear that you still didn’t want anyone in your life, that the job was all that mattered to you. I was afraid you’d reject him. Then Adam got so upset when we ran away. He was certain that he was letting you down. And I realized that I wasn’t being fair to either of you. I just had to have a little of the faith that you told me I should have. So I decided to come back, but in the meantime everything went to hell. And so here I am—telling you now. Adam is your son.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re telling me?” He searched her face, not certain what it was exactly that he was looking for, only knowing that it was important. “Because you thought I had a right to know?”
She paused, looking down at her hands, then taking a deep breath, she looked up again, her gaze steady. “Yes. No matter what happened between us, you deserve the truth.”
“Except that if Kim hadn’t kidnapped your son, and if A-Tac hadn’t been called in to run you to ground, you’d have let me go on in blissful ignorance.” He knew he wasn’t being completely fair. Tom had lied to her as well as to him. But she hadn’t said anything about her feelings—about whether she wanted him back in her life. And somehow that mattered more than he could possibly have imagined. “I looked for you, you know. After I got better, I tried to find you.”
“Tom and his people were really thorough.”
“I don’t think I really realized how much I hurt you the night we fought. But even after that—knowing how upset you were—I guess I thought we were still a team, at least professionally. So when I woke up in that hospital and Tom told me you were gone, I couldn’t believe it. No matter how angry you were, I found it impossible to buy into the idea that you’d just leave me there to die.”
“But Tom was very persuasive.”
“Yes.” Nash nodded, remembering how Tom had talked him down with just the right amount of remorse and support. “He was.”
“But I didn’t leave you. At least not in that building. And maybe not at all if things hadn’t played out the way they did.”
“You mean if Tom hadn’t manipulated our lives?”
“Something like that.” She nodded, her face reflecting his anguish. Years gone that they could never get back. “Look, I know this is partly Tom’s fault, but I was the one who made the decision to keep the secret. So I understand if you’re angry with me.”
“Frankly, I’m not sure what I feel. Anger, sure. And betrayal. But I can also see why you made the decisions you made. It’s my fault, too. If only I’d listened that night in Vienna, maybe all of this would have played out differently.”
“You can ‘what if’ yourself to death, Nash. Believe me, I know.”
He nodded, wishing there were a way to skip past this part. The hurt. The anger. But it was all there, building inside him, threatening to swamp him like a river cresting after a storm. Instead, he decided to focus on something else. “So tell me this. If you hadn’t wound up here with me, would you have ever told Adam the truth?”
“Yes. When he was old enough to hear the whole story. Up until now, I thought I was protecting him. A little boy isn’t capable of understanding why his mommy is in hiding. It’s better that he believe his world is the real one, not a charade his mother’s Company made up to protect her.”
“And if something had happened to you?” he asked, frowning at the thought of Adam being left on his own.
“I made arrangements with an attorney. I figured with client confidentiality, I’d be okay as long as I didn’t tell him too much. So I told him an abbreviated version of the story, and set it up so that on the event of my death, if Adam was old enough, he’d be told the truth about his father—about you. And if not, then the attorney was directed to find you and explain the situation.”
“And when all hell broke loose, and Adam was kidnapped
? You didn’t think of coming to me then?”
“I thought I could handle it on my own.”
“Some things never change.”
“Look, I did the best I could given the circumstances. You can’t imagine what it was like to find Adam gone, and to know in my heart that it was my fault, my past that put my son in danger.” She pushed off the bed, her eyes flashing with anger. “You may think I’m horrible for keeping my secret, but I’m a good mother. And I love my son.” She rummaged through her duffel, throwing things next to him on the bed as she searched. “Here,” she said finally, producing an envelope. “I carry this with me, always. Just in case. It’s a notarized letter, identifying you as Adam’s father. You have to believe I never meant for this to be a secret. It just played out that way.”
She tossed the envelope on the bed and walked over to the window, arms crossed, shoulders rigid.
He reached for it, but froze as his eyes fell on the rest of the stuff she’d discarded on the bed. Teetering on top of the pile of T-shirts and sundries was a black lacquer box. He reached out to touch it, some part of his mind expecting it to disappear.
“You kept this?” he asked as he cradled the little box, memories surfacing. Krakow. The market. One of the happiest days he’d ever spent.
She turned, her face softening when she saw the puzzle box, tears slipping down her face. Without a word, she reached over to take it from his hands. Then, moving her fingers in practiced motions, she released the catch and the lid sprang open.
Inside were the petals of a rose.
His rose. The one he’d given her so many years ago.
He reached out to touch the faded bloom, then lifted his eyes to hers. “Why?” he whispered. “Why did you keep it all these years?”
“Because I still love you.”
CHAPTER 23
The minute the words slipped out Annie wanted to take them back. He’d caught her off guard, her heart speaking before her brain had the chance to censor the thought. “Oh, God, Nash, I didn’t mean to…” she started, then stopped. “I’m sorry. I’ve dumped so much on you and now I…”
