“Yes. You can leave this behind…” He indicated the snowy world around us with a sweep of his arm. “…and move to a secluded raincoast paradise until spring arrives here. I’ll arrange for someone to take care of your home during that time.” He smiled. “You’ll be taking what amounts to a lengthy paid vacation.”
I stared at him, my mind sluggishly turning the idea over and over.
Well, shit. Why not? It would let me avoid awkwardness with Kane while he was recovering, and he’d likely be gone by the time I got back. Tammy Mellor could handle the decryptions. And Hellhound had a high enough security clearance to be told where I was. He might even come and visit me in B.C., lured by the promise of ice-free roads for his Harley.
And I desperately needed a break. God, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.
“Okay.” The word fell flatly from my lips.
“Excellent. Be ready to leave tomorrow morning. A car will pick you up at your house at ten hundred.”
I nodded and turned away to slog back to the hospital.
His voice stopped me again. “Also…”
A dull throbbing began at the base of my skull. “What?”
“Kane asked me to send you in to see him.”
Chapter 48
I hesitated for a long moment outside the door to Kane’s hospital room, bone-deep fatigue dragging at me. My bruised shoulder throbbed in time with my tension headache, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
I should just walk away.
I had already seen the cool distance in Kane’s eyes. He had requested reassignment. What was left for us to talk about? This conversation could only end in ashes and bitterness.
I turned away.
Fuck it. I’d go and meet Dave and Hellhound at Blue Eddy’s and drink myself senseless. Hellhound would haul my stinking carcass home and put me to bed, soothe my hangover in the morning, and get me out the door by ten…
“Aydan!” Linda hurried out of one of the other rooms, her perky smile making me feel like seven kinds of shit. “John has been asking for you. Have you talked to him yet?”
“Um, no. I don’t want to disturb him tonight,” I mumbled. “Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow after he’s had a chance to rest.”
Or maybe not.
“No, you need to see him. He said he wanted to see you no matter how late it was.” She latched onto my arm and ushered my dragging feet back to his door. “Go on in.”
“Aydan? Is that you?” Kane’s voice emanated from the room, sounding exhausted but wide awake.
Shit.
“See, I told you.” Linda’s smile sparkled up at me. “Go on in.”
There was nothing else for it. I trudged into the room.
“You came.” Kane’s smile looked strained. “Thank you. Would you please close the door?”
I did as he asked before turning reluctantly to face him.
He held out his hand. “Please… come closer?”
I sighed and crossed the room to stand beside the bed. In the dim light his features looked carved from white stone, hard pain lines etched around his mouth and eyes.
My heart clenched and my hand flew to his despite my attempt to hold myself aloof.
His eyes closed for a moment, his hand gripping mine. “Aydan…”
“It’s all right,” I interrupted softly. “Stemp already told me you want to be reassigned, and I understand. I stepped over the line today, and I don’t blame you for being disgusted by me. Just rest. Get better. I’ll go now.”
“No!” His hand clenched around mine so hard I let out a yelp of surprise. “Aydan, no, dammit…” He struggled up on the pillow and a groan wrenched from between his teeth. He took a couple of shallow breaths before growling, “Damn Stemp. I wanted to tell you.”
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “Don’t worry about it. Just take it easy and get better-”
“No, dammit!” His grip tightened and I winced.
“John, you’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry!” He eased his grip without letting go of my hand. “Dammit, Aydan, I’m sorry, this isn’t what I wanted…” He waved me to silence when I began to speak again. “Stop. Please let me explain. Will you do that?” He gazed up at me imploringly. “Will you please just stand there and listen until I’m finished talking?”
“Of course.” I stroked his hand, afraid he’d overtax himself. “Just relax. Say whatever you need to say.” I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you.” He closed his eyes and breathed for a moment, sweat glistening on his forehead.
My heart twisted again. “John, can’t this wait? You should be resting…”
“No.” His eyes flew open. “Aydan, I did request reassignment, but it’s not for the reason you think. I…” He swallowed convulsively and his hand trembled in mine. “I… Today shook me. More than any mission I’ve ever had. Dawn…”
I touched his face, his pain slashing my heart. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time to save her.”
“No, that’s not it. Aydan, she didn’t mean anything to me.” His face twisted. “That’s the hell of it. Nobody deserves to suffer like that, but I never liked her. Never trusted her. And she betrayed me in the end. But…”
He gave me an imploring look. “I couldn’t help thinking, Aydan, what if it had been you? What if they had captured us and I had to pretend, had to say you meant nothing to me? Had to watch them…” His voice choked off.
He swallowed and continued evenly, “I couldn’t. Can’t. And that weakness could mean the failure of a mission. So I requested reassignment. If we’re not working together, that can’t happen. And…” He gazed up at me, his eyes dark and vulnerable. “If we’re not working together, we could…”
He drew a shallow breath, his hand tightening on mine. “I’m going to be on med leave for at least six weeks, probably more. I was hoping maybe we could… take some time and get to know each other like normal people. When we’re not hopped up on adrenaline or facing death. Just… talking… or going for walks. Or maybe working on your car. I don’t know. What do normal people do?”
I stared down at him, open-mouthed. “I… uh…” Sudden comprehension exploded into fury. “Bastard!” I spat.
He flinched, pain twisting his face.
“I’m sorry, not you!” I amended hurriedly. “Stemp! That lousy fucking twisty bastard! He dumped your reassignment request on me to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. Again, for fucksakes! As usual!”
“What…?”
“I’m going to be guarding his parents on a hippie commune in B.C. for the next two months. I leave tomorrow morning.”
Kane stared at me for a few moments before the corners of his mouth quirked up. “You’re kidding me.”
“No!” I knotted my fists in my hair and tugged savagely. “I’m not kidding! I couldn’t make up shit like this!”
He began to laugh feebly, clutching his chest. “That bastard. That rotten bastard.” He sobered, panting shallowly. “Well, then.”
“Well, then,” I echoed.
A mischievous spark kindled in his eyes. “Maybe my convalescence will require a stay in a place with more temperate weather.”
“I’ve heard that can be very beneficial,” I agreed, giving in to the smile tugging at my mouth.
“And since we’re not working together anymore…” He pulled gently on my hand, grinning. “Come closer. I seem to recall I owe you the last half of a kiss. And then some.”
I leaned down to his lips. “I’ll take a kiss as a down-payment for now…”
A Request
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Books in the NEVER SAY SPY series:
Book 1: Never Say Spy
Book 2: The Spy Is Cast
Book 3: Reach For The Spy
Book 4: Tell Me No Spies
Book 5: How Spy I Am
Book 6: A Spy For A Spy
Book 7: Spy, Spy Away
Book 8: Spy Now, Pay Later
Book 9: Spy High
Book 10 to be released late 2015
Humour by Diane Henders
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Definitely Inappropriate
Totally Inappropriate
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About Me
By profession, I’m a technical writer, computer geek, and ex-interior designer. I’m good at two out of three of these things. I had the sense to quit the one I sucked at.
To deal with my mid-life crisis, I also write adventure novels featuring a middle-aged female protagonist. And I kickbox.
This seemed more productive than indulging in more typical mid-life crisis activities like getting a divorce, buying a Harley Crossbones, and cruising across the country picking up men in sleazy bars. Especially since it’s winter most of the months of the year here.
It’s much more comfortable to sit at my computer. And hell, Harleys are expensive. Come to think of it, so are beer and gasoline.
Oh, and I still love my husband. There’s that. I’ll stick with the writing.
Diane Henders
Since You Asked...
People frequently ask if my protagonist, Aydan Kelly, is really me.
Yeah, you got me. These novels are an autobiography of my secret life as a government agent, working with highly-classified computer technology… Oh, wait, what’s that? You want the truth? Um, you do realize fiction writers get paid to lie, don’t you?
…well, shit, that’s not nearly as much fun. It’s also a long story.
I swore I’d never write fiction. “Too personal,” I said. “People read novels and automatically assume the author is talking about him/herself.”
Well, apparently I lied about the fiction-writing part. One day, a story sprang into my head and wouldn’t leave. The only way to get it out was to write it down. So I did.
But when I wrote that first book, I never intended to show it to anyone, so I created a character that looked like me just to thumb my nose at the stereotype. I’ve always had a defective sense of humour, and this time it turned around and bit me in the ass.
Because after I’d written the third novel, I realized I actually wanted other people to read my books. And when I went back to change my main character to not look like me, my beta readers wouldn’t let me. They rose up against me and said, “No! Aydan is a tall woman with long red hair and brown eyes. End of discussion!”
Jeez, no wonder readers get the idea that authors write about themselves. So no, I’m not Aydan Kelly. I just look like her.
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