Yeah, he thought, as he settled into his seat on the plane, but the good news was that he still had a leg. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he’d told them they’d have to tie him down to so much as try to remove it.
Whatever the reason, he’d kept it.
The bad news was that he’d lost the career he’d loved. His days as a STUD were over.
Blake had been decent about it.
He’d shown up in person to deliver the news, even though Tanner had already figured it out for himself. When you’d not only set off metal detectors and would predict rain as accurately as a barometer, you were no longer of much use to the military.
“What we would like,” Blake had said, “is to work something out so you’d come in a couple of times a year. Speak to new STUD classes. Teach them the skills you have.”
Yeah. Right.
Tanner could just see himself caning it across the floor to a lectern, looking down at a bunch of eager young faces while he droned on and on about the life he’d once led.
“Sounds good,” he’d said, but he and Blake had both known he was lying.
It was time to acknowledge the truth about his moribund career…
And about Alessandra Bellini Wilde.
What they’d had together had not been real.
It had been wartime sex.
Well, okay. Not wartime, but it came down to the same thing.
Sex when your life was on the line was different from regular.
He’d come back from missions totally hyped, needing more than a hot shower and a hot meal—needing a woman under him, a woman reminding him that he was still alive, still in one functional piece.
The only difference this time had been that the woman had been right there with him. Available. Eager. Hot.
And smart and funny and tough and tender and, Jesus, he missed her, he missed her…
She was okay. He knew that. He’d been barely conscious when he’d asked Chay if she was all right and Chay had assured him she was.
But where was she? Why hadn’t he heard from her?
Once he was off the drugs, up and moving, he’d waited for her to call. To show up on the ward. Surely she’d figured out that he hadn’t meant what he’d said in those last couple of minutes.
Right. But what if she hadn’t?
Anything was possible.
He’d told himself he should have thought of that sooner, but it wasn’t too late. He could call her.
Call her? He didn’t have her phone number. He didn’t have her address.
Wait. She’d said she lived in Manhattan.
Alessandra Bellini. Or Alessandra Wilde. Or, because she was a smart woman, she might have just listed herself as A. Bellini. Or A. Wilde. Yeah, but what if she didn’t have a phone? A regular phone. There were no directories for smartphones.
The next time Chay came to visit, he told him what he needed.
Tanner,” Chay said, “listen, dude…”
“You told me she was all right,” Tanner had said. “She is, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. She’s fine.”
“Just get me her numbers.”
Getting telephone numbers wasn’t difficult when you had STUD’s resources. Chay gave him two the next morning.
“One’s a cell. The other’s a land line.”
“Thanks, man,” Tanner said.
“No problem.”
Not true.
It was a problem. First working up to making the call, then planning what he’d say. In the end, though, all the planning turned out to be meaningless. The cell was no longer operational. That figured. It was probably still in San Escobal.
The land phone, however, was still good.
He punched in the number, waited while the phone rang…and heard Alessandra’s voice say, Hi, you’ve reached 555-765-1430. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.
The message he left was messy. A bunch of mostly incoherent words, spoken by a desperate man. In the end, he stopped in the middle of a sentence, took a hard breath and said, Call me. Please. I need to talk to you. Call me, sweetheart. Please.
But she didn’t.
Yeah. Okay. He hadn’t left a phone number. So he called back and left the number for the nurses’ station on his floor. But she still didn’t call and he thought maybe she hadn’t listened to her messages. Or maybe he’d pressed the wrong button and inadvertently erased the one he’d left her.
Amazing, the lies a man could tell himself, Tanner thought as he boarded the plane bound for home.
Still, lies could only take you so far.
The truth had been hand-delivered the very next day. It came in the form of a note, polite and to the point, handwritten on linen stationery that bore General John Hamilton Wilde’s letterhead.
Dear Lieutenant Akecheta:
My daughter thanks you for your call and says to tell you she wishes you well and that she knows you will understand how busy she is at this time. She joins me in offering you our deepest gratitude for everything you did for us.
The both of us are happy to hear you are recovering from your injuries and wish you well in all your future endeavors.
Sincerely yours…
He’d read it twice, but the meaning never changed.
It was over.
They’d shared a few days together. Nothing more than that.
Besides, he couldn’t blame her for walking away from him. He wasn’t a man anymore. Not the one she’d been with.
He was back to being Tanner Akecheta from the res in South Dakota.
And she…she was a general’s daughter.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare for takeoff.”
Tanner buckled his seat belt, turned his face to the window, and spent the next few hours doing his best not to think of anything beyond what in hell he was going to do with his life once he got home.
* * *
The El Sueño Ranch, Texas:
Alessandra took a final look at herself the mirror in her bedroom at El Sueño.
It was time to get moving. Her family was waiting for her downstairs. She knew they were eager to celebrate.
She was home. She was safe. She had survived.
As for the rest…
“Stop it,” she told her reflection.
There wasn’t a reason in the world to keep reminding herself of what an idiot she’d been.
The time she’d spent with Tanner Akecheta was in the past. A past that had all the substance of a dream. How could it be more than that when she’d only spent a handful of hours with him?
As for loving him…
More idiocy.
Take one man. Add one woman. Put them in a dangerous situation, drop them into an isolated setting, and what did you have?
Alessandra picked up her brush and ran it through her new chin-length hairdo.
The Movie of the Week.
That was what you had, and if the man was brave and strong and tender and caring and…
“Alessandra?”
Alessandra whirled around and saw the general standing in the partly open doorway.
“I knocked several times, but—”
“Oh. Sorry. I, uh, I was just—just trying to get used to looking at myself with such short hair.”
John Hamilton Wilde smiled as he walked into the room.
“It’s lovely.”
“Well, at least letting it curl like this helps hide the bald spot.”
“The hair will grow back.” His smile widened. “Actually, this reminds me of the way you looked when you were little and you and your sister decided to give each other haircuts.”
“I don’t remember that.”
The general nodded. “You were six, I think, and Bianca was seven. Your mother wrote and told me about it. She sent me a photo—”
“It wasn’t Bianca and me,” Alessandra said. “You must be confusing us with your American daughters.”
“No. I don’t think I…” Her father sighed. “Perhaps I am.�
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“There’s no ‘perhaps’ about it, Father.”
“Alessandra. I know I wronged you, but I’m trying to make up for it. The past is the past. Can’t you put it behind us?”
He was right. Of course, he was right. Hadn’t she just been telling herself the same thing? The problem was, telling yourself something wasn’t the same as actually making it happen.
For instance, she kept telling herself to stop thinking about Tanner.
Great plan. The question was, how?
He was in her thoughts when she woke in the morning, in her thoughts when she went to bed at night. She reached for him in her sleep and when she dreamed, she dreamed of him. His kisses. His laugh. His touch. His determination to protect her and keep her safe even when she bitched and argued and gave him a difficult time…
“Alessandra?”
Her father’s voice was soft. She blinked, looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, daughter?”
“Nothing.” She flashed a bright smile. “I’m just, you know, I’m just still a little tired…” Her smile faded. “Are you sure he never called?”
The general’s mouth thinned.
“Are we back to that? No. The lieutenant never called.”
“When I was out of things. Unconscious. It’s possible he phoned and spoke with one of the nurses…”
“He did not. There was no reason for him to call. He knew you were in safe hands.”
“Or maybe he phoned my apartment in New York.”
“Alessandra. We’ve been over this before. I checked your voice mail when I flew to New York, remember? I offered to stop by at your place, collect your mail, retrieve your messages…”
“And there was none from him.”
“Exactly.” The general’s tone gentled. “Lieutenant Akecheta had a job to do, and he did it.”
“I know. I just—I just would liked to thank him myself. In person.”
The general put his arm lightly around his daughter’s shoulders.
“He got your note,” he said gently. “I told you that, too, remember? I sent it to his commanding officer as soon as you gave it to me, and he delivered it to the lieutenant. He called and told me so. And the lieutenant said to send you his best.”
His best.
Alessandra turned her back to her father.
“Yes.”
“It’s just unfortunate Akecheta had to ship out on another mission almost as soon as you and he returned from San Escobal.”
She knew all of that.
Her father had explained it as soon as she’d regained consciousness. That the lieutenant had come through without harm. That her father had recommended him for promotion. That he’d shipped out almost immediately.
On another mission.
Which was what she’d been.
A mission.
It all added up. Made perfect sense. What didn’t make sense was that she should still ache for him.
For a little while there, she’d convinced herself she loved Tanner, but she was well beyond that now. She’d been grateful to him. Awed by him.
Hot for him.
None of those things were love.
Hadn’t Tanner tried to tell her that? His last words to her had put everything into perspective.
I have never not completed a mission, and that isn’t going to change just because you and I fucked.
She just hadn’t wanted to believe him any more than she’d wanted to believe he’d gone out of her life without a phone call, a note, even an email…
“So,” the general said briskly, “are you ready for the party? Lissa’s been cooking and baking all day.”
Alessandra forced a smile.
She wasn’t ready. Not really. It was one thing for your head to tell you something had not been real and quite another for your heart to accept it.
She missed him. Her lieutenant. Her Superman. Her lover…
“Alessandra? Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she said briskly, “of course. I’m looking forward to this. All of us together.”
“Even me,” the general said quietly. “I’m so grateful to have been included this weekend. I mean, I know my efforts got you safely home—”
His efforts? “Lieutenant Akecheta got me safely home,” Alessandra said a little sharply.
“Well, of course, but… All I’m trying to say is that I haven’t done enough for you. For any of you, but for you and Bianca, especially.” He hesitated. “Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but a man in the position to do so should give his daughters every possible advantage.
Great. Was this guilt-trip time? Did the general feel bad about not having been there for them when she and Bianca were growing up?
If he did, the guilt had come a little late.
“Bianca and I have done fine on our own.”
“You have, indeed. University degrees. Careers.” Her father smiled. “And someday you’ll have husbands. Men to be proud of. Leaders of this nation. Captains of industry.”
Alessandra stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
The general laughed. “Forgive me, dear child. I must be getting old.” He came closer to her, then offered her his arm. “Will you do me the honor of permitting me to escort you downstairs?”
Alessandra hesitated. She wanted to trust her father. To respect him. Someday, perhaps, to love him.
The problem was that old habits died hard.
She had to stop being foolish. As she’d told herself only a little while ago, the past was the past.
“That would be lovely,” she said, and she put her hand lightly on his arm and let him lead her from the room.
* * *
The party was wonderful.
Lissa, who was a professional chef, had outdone herself. Shrimp ceviche. Tiny Szechuan dumplings. Barbecued chicken and pork and beef, “because hey, this is Texas, y’all,” Jaimie said, laughing.
Not that Lissa had forgotten that Alessandra was a vegetarian.
There were platters of veggie lasagna. Veggie stir fries. Salads of every kind. Trays of caramelized root vegetables .
There was, said Emily, enough food to feed half the town, and that was good because the Wildes seemed to have invited half the town. Alessandra’s kidnapping had been kept secret. Her return had not. Even the general had gone public—well, public with his military superiors—and though none of them knew quite what he’d told them, the fact that he had two families was no longer to be kept hidden.
There was lots to drink and a band had been brought in from Dallas, so there was lots of dancing too. Alessandra spent what seemed like hours on the improvised dance floor in the arms of first one brother and then the next, going from Luca to Matteo to Jacob to Caleb and, finally, to Travis.
“It’s so good to have you back,” Travis said, dancing her around the floor while the band played “Sad Songs and Waltzes,” an old Willie Nelson tune.
“It’s good to be back,” she said.
“That STUD operative… the lieutenant who rescued you.” Travis took her into a slow turn. “Chay Olivieri said he was the best, and I guess he was.”
“You met him? Chay Olivieri?”
“Yes. He and I worked out the details for you to hole up in that house on the beach.” Travis drew back and smiled down at her. “Sounded like a pretty nice place.”
“It was wonderful. I really should write a note to your friend and thank him for lending it to us.”
“Not necessary, but I’m sure he’d be happy to hear from you.”
“I’ll do it first thing tomorrow. Is it okay if I give it to you to send?”
“Absolutely. My pleasure.”
“Thank you.” She gave Travis what she hoped was a smile. The music, the party, everything was beginning to be more than she could handle. People were so kind, so thoughtful, but the one man who should have been here wasn’t. “Not that I’ve been doing too well lately with writing notes and having them delivered.”
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“Meaning?”
“Nothing.”
“Alessandra. What’s the matter? Come on. That’s what big brothers are for, remember? Little sisters are supposed to tell them their troubles.”
She laughed, just as she knew he hoped she would, but, dammit, her laugh didn’t fool him, not for a second.
“Hell,” he muttered. He waltzed her across the room, out the open patio doors and into the moonlit garden where he stopped dancing, clasped her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her voice wobbled.
Travis pulled a pristine white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. “Go on. Cry. Blow your nose. Then tell me what’s going on.”
I told you, nothing’s…” She bit back a sob. “I thought I’d hear from him.”
“From who?” Travis sounded baffled. “My pal in Silicon Valley? Chay Olivieri?”
“Tanner Akecheta. The lieutenant. I know it was silly, but I thought—I thought—”
“Alessandra.” Travis hesitated. “Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you…”
“Nothing happened,” Alessandra said, and began to weep.
Travis ran a hand through his dark hair.
“Man. See, I’m not very good at this…”
“No. Obviously, neither am I.” Alessandra wiped her eyes. “I mean, maybe I said more than I should have in that note. Or maybe I didn’t say enough. Either way, he could have answered. Just a couple of words. I know he shipped out right away, but… What?”
“What note? To whom? Who shipped out?”
“Tanner. I wrote to him as soon as I could. His commanding officer hand-delivered it, well, our father gave it to him and to hand-deliver, but Tanner was shipping out and he never replied and I thought—I really thought, if he’d just taken a minute—”
The expression on Travis’s face stopped her in midsentence. He had gone tight-lipped. It was a look she’d seen before. All the Wilde and Bellini men got that look when they were angry.
“Let me get this straight. You wrote a note to the lieutenant, gave it to the general, and he gave it to the lieutenant’s CO, who gave it to the lieutenant.”
“Yes.”
“And you know this, how?”
“Father told me. The commanding officer at Camp Condor gave Tanner my note. Tanner was being shipped out, but he—he sent me his best wishes…”
Power: Special Tactical Units Division (In Wilde Country Book 3) Page 19
