He stood, then went to pull Lucy’s chair back for her. “There might not be anything more than you already know.”
In her heart, she knew there was more than her mother just getting killed “in the line of duty.” More than just that she had gotten caught in the cross fire of two battles raging between two warring factions of the same chaotic Third World country. Her mother would have been better utilized than that.
“I have a feeling there is,” she said quietly. She blew out a breath. “And then I have to make up my mind whether or not to tell my father.”
Collin thought of the world that he usually dealt in. “He might already know.”
She shook her head. Her father had caught a plane and come to her dorm the day after he’d called. They’d spent the day remembering things about her mother. He far more than she.
“Unlike you, he’s very easy to read. If my father knew more than he initially told me, I would have seen it in his eyes. And gotten it out of him,” she added with no attempt at bravado. It was just the way things were. “He’s not too good when it comes to keeping secrets. I think he sees them as lies. And it’s not in his nature to lie.” She’d often thought of her father as a gentle soldier, if there was such a thing. He was a big man, but he’d never been anything more than gentle and kind as far as she was concerned. “My mother was the clam,” she added with a bemused smile on her lips.
“I’ll come over,” Collin promised.
They wove their way through the small dining area to the front of the restaurant. He noticed that Lucy no longer pulled away when he placed his hand to the small of her back. And noticed, too, that he rather liked the feeling that softly tiptoed through him while he had his hand against her back, guiding her out. Liked the subtle feeling of being part of two.
Not a couple, of course, but still, not quite alone either…
Dangerous ground, he warned himself. But then, he’d never shied away from crossing unsafe terrain before. And at his age, he was too old to learn new tricks.
Which was exactly why nothing was going to come of the feelings that were trying to push their way through like first spring grass through frozen ground.
He’d do well to remember that, Collin counseled himself.
As the cold air hit them upon walking outside the restaurant, Collin wondered if he was going to wind up walking out onto thin ice, wisdom notwithstanding.
Or if it was going to turn out to be solid and would bear his weight.
“Well, there you are, nestled in your chair and giving one magnificent impersonation of a slug,” Vanessa Fortune Kincaid announced as she breezed into the den. The room was bathed in light, catching the morning sun’s rays and hoarding them like a miser anticipating forty days of rain. She bent over her father, who was sitting in a recliner, and kissed his cheek. It felt unsettlingly cool to her lips, she thought. “The day’s bright and beautiful for a change. Why don’t we celebrate by going out for lunch?”
Vanessa was trying her best to be brave. For both their sakes. But they both knew that the cheer was little more than just a charade. That she knew just how badly he was doing and he knew she knew.
Still, clinging to the game made them strong. Kept dignity in place.
Not that Vanessa gave a damn about dignity, but she knew it was important to the man she’d loved with all her heart since the day she’d been born.
She made a point of stopping by the house where she’d grown up with her four siblings as often as she could, sadly aware that one day, all too soon, she was going to walk through that front door knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find Ryan Fortune somewhere within one of the rooms. That his huge, larger-than-life presence would no longer fill the house.
No longer fill her life.
She was married, and dearly loved Devin, but her father had been the first man she’d ever loved.
Her mouth curved now as she remembered the adage: you never quite got over your first love. For her, it would always be true.
It killed her to see this vibrant, dynamic man reduced to a shell of his former self, ravaged by a brain tumor that allowed him no peace, consuming his energy, his essence.
As always, Vanessa had come to fight with the unseen enemy, trying her best to help her father rally one more time. And she would continue to do the very same thing each time she saw him. The way she saw it, each day he woke was a victory. And she was here to collect another victory.
But Ryan Fortune, once the toast of both coasts, able to go on for more than two days straight without a wink of sleep and still dance with his wife, shook his head slowly to the invitation his daughter extended.
“Sorry, princess, I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check on lunch with you. I’m not up to slaying dragons today.”
Suppressing a sigh, she dragged a chair over to his. She hadn’t seen him on his feet in several days. It was as if her father were rapidly deteriorating right in front of her eyes.
She tried not to think about it. Or what lay ahead of them.
“Okay, no dragon slaying,” she allowed. “How do you feel about wounding a lizard?”
He laughed. Vanessa could always make him laugh and he was grateful to her for that. “Maybe you should get started without me.”
Vanessa pretended to sigh and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Daddy, you really know how to weasel out of things, don’t you?”
Ryan looked at his daughter fondly. “I can remember a sunny-eyed little girl who could give me lessons in that.”
She’d been a handful when she was younger. Not bad, just incredibly mischievous. She knew all the stories by heart. “I grew up.”
The smile that crossed his lips was fleeting and mostly sad, even though he tried his best not to be maudlin around his wife and children. But the mantle weighed heavily on him. “And I grew old.”
She was nothing if not fiercely loyal, fiercely protective. “No, not you, Daddy. Not you. Older, maybe, but not old. You’re the youngest man I know.”
He interpreted that the only way he knew how. “Worn out your husband already, have you?”
There was a twinkle in her father’s eye. Vanessa cherished it as she laughed in reply. “No, Devin’s still got some mileage left in him.”
Ryan nodded his head. More than just some, he thought. “More power to him. Knew Devin was the right man for you the second I laid eyes on him. Takes a hell of a man to keep up with you, ’Nessa.”
“It should.” Taking her father’s hand in hers, she cradled it as she looked at him meaningfully. “I was spoiled by the best.”
Governors and senators had bestowed words of praise on him during his lifetime. It never pleased him as much as hearing kind words from his children. They were a man’s true legacy and a test of his mettle.
“I don’t know about the best,” he said slowly, fighting off a wall of pain, “but I did spoil you. You and your sister and brothers.” And then he smiled. “Best time of my life.”
She pretended to lower her voice and move closer. “Don’t let Lily hear you say that.”
At the mention of his third wife’s name, Ryan’s wan smile grew stronger. He’d loved Lily for a very long time. But fate had arranged things so that their paths first had to go in different directions before they were finally allowed to cross again, permanently this time.
Initially, Lily had gone on to marry someone else, and so had he. Twice. Once to the mother of his children and once, in his grief, to a woman who had taken advantage of the sorrow in his heart. He discounted everything he’d had to endure on the journey that had brought him to Lily because he finally had Lily by his side. And even though the time they had together proved to be relatively short, he was grateful for that. Grateful for every scrap he could get.
The pain was worsening again, reminding him that it was never far away. That it was the jailer and he the prisoner. He struggled not to let it show on his face. He didn’t want his daughter’s pity. Only her company.
“I’ve been a very fortunat
e man,” he told her. “Having all of you, your mother and Lily in my life.”
Vanessa hated it when he sounded like that. As if he was about to close the book.
“Daddy, don’t talk as if it’s over. It’s not. Tomorrow they might discover something that’ll destroy this awful thing that’s sapping your strength.” She was an optimist, she always had been. But even she had her limits and she was frighteningly close to it. So much so that it was a struggle not to cry. “They might even be coming up with it in some far-off laboratory even as we sit here talking.”
He smiled at her. Vanessa was his ray of sunshine. Ever hopeful. And he loved her for it. Even though there was no foundation for what she was saying. They both knew that. His days were limited.
“They might,” he allowed. “And then again—”
“Don’t go there, Daddy,” she ordered, her voice stern. At the breaking point. “I won’t let you go there.” Vanessa looked at her father, the tears she was trying unsuccessfully to hold back shimmering in her eyes. “I won’t let you go.”
He ran his hand through her hair, the way he used to when she was a little girl. But now the effort was almost too much for him. The pain was taking on proportions again, bringing with it bursts of stars and lights that clouded his vision.
“I know, princess, but sometimes what we want doesn’t matter.” His eyes searched her face. “I’m very proud of you and I want you to go on and have a good life with Devin, understand? Have it for me. And I’ll always be with you.” He tried his best to smile, to look like the man he’d been such a short time ago. “Never more than a whisper away.”
It was what he’d said to her when she’d been a little girl, afraid of the dark, afraid to fall asleep in her room for fear that the monsters would get her. He’d promised her that he would come if she needed him, that all she needed to do was to call and he’d be there. Never more than a whisper away.
Vanessa thought her heart was going to break as she nodded.
Lucy glanced at her watch. She’d done it so many times since she’d come home from the lab this afternoon, she’d lost count, and the butterflies in her stomach were mocking her.
After all, Military Man hadn’t said he was definitely coming over, only that he’d stop by if he had something. If he had something. So why was she straining so hard to hear a knock on the door or the sound of the doorbell fading away?
She told herself that it was because she was anxious about any illuminating news regarding her mother, but she knew that was only an excuse. She wasn’t listening for a messenger or for an informant; she was listening for the man who had succeeded in breaking through the steel barriers around her thoughts. All her senses were keenly alert so she could hear the advance of a man who had managed to somehow weave his way into the pattern of her thoughts.
And he had done it with just one damn kiss.
A performance Collin’d had opportunities to repeat and never did, she reminded herself tersely.
But reminding herself of that didn’t cause her pulse to slow or her hands to lose the slightly damp feeling they’d attained.
Annoyed with herself, she wiped her hands along her jeans.
How stupid could she get? She was acting like some kind of teeny-bopper. Even then, she hadn’t acted that way. God knew she’d been uprooted time and again, faced new situations frequently, and she’d never felt more than mildly nervous on each occasion. What would be, would be. Her calm had been her gift.
But for some reason, that kind of one-on-one hadn’t felt nearly as personal as this did.
She was being an idiot, she upbraided herself.
And then she heard it. She really heard it this time, rather than thought she did like the last two times she’d raced to answer the door only to find herself staring off into empty space.
Last time, she promised herself as she crossed to the door.
She didn’t care if she thought she heard the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing “Amazing Grace” on her doorstep, she wasn’t going to answer her door. Three times and then you’re out. That included her. And Military Man, she tagged on firmly.
Lucy yanked open the door.
And there he was, standing on her doorstep. Military Man.
Twelve
Lucy tried to read his expression and failed. “You know something?”
The nod was barely perceptible.
Much like she imagined Collin probably gave in response to a query from any of the operatives who crossed his path. He was not a man who was given to any sort of an emotional display.
But even so, something made her believe that beneath the rugged exterior, there was a man who felt, who bled and cared. Why else would he be here now, with information for her when there was nothing in it for him? Other than her words of gratitude.
Collin walked in. Lucy closed the door behind him and waited, holding her breath. When he didn’t say anything, she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“What?” she pressed, moving out in front of him so that he was forced to face her.
The tail end of a debate raged within him. Ever since he’d agreed to come down here to help Emmett, he’d been doing things against his nature. To get what Lucy wanted to know, he’d pulled strings, called in favors. Digging into the past was never straightforward.
Right now he was violating half a dozen rules, all of which could have gotten him dismissed immediately, if not jailed indefinitely. The right military thing to do was to keep his mouth shut. To never have investigated at all. But the right moral thing was a different matter. It wasn’t as if she was looking to trade on the information. This was about family, about her mother, and she had a right to know. When it came to family, he drew a line in the sand. She had a right to know, he thought again. Just as Emmett had a right to try to track down his brother.
Unbuttoning his jacket, he shed it and tossed it over the back of the butterscotch-leather love seat that served as her sofa. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his denim shirt, as if the words couldn’t come out if he were still formal.
His eyes were on hers as he told her. “Your mother was killed while working deep undercover. Her assignment was to guard one of the Saudi princes who was involved in a peace negotiation. There was an assassination attempt. She took the bullet that was meant for him.”
Lucy’s eyes widened as he spoke. She remembered reading about the incident when it happened. There were pictures in the newspaper of the prince and his bodyguards. They were all men.
“The account said that no one got hurt except for one of the prince’s mistresses.” The words dribbled from her lips, each one slower than the last as the import of what she was saying sank in.
Again, Collin nodded. He was watching her for signs of a stressed reaction. This wasn’t just a tidbit he was tossing her. This was something that would shake up her world, cause it to reform.
“That was your mother’s cover. To be truthful, I don’t know if the prince even knew that she was an operative.”
Lucy stared at him, unable, unwilling to assimilate the implications. If the prince didn’t know her true identity, her true function, then as his mistress— No, not her mother. Maybe the newspapers just called her that because that was what they’d been told, but not what was true.
She looked to Collin for help, for support. “Then she…”
He knew exactly where she was going with this, exactly what was on her mind. It was as if her thoughts flashed across his own mind the instant she began talking. But he couldn’t lie to her, even though he knew that was what she wanted. Because the truth was too bitter to swallow.
“I have no way of knowing that, Lucy. None of us does. Probably the only one who could answer your question, truthfully, is your mother.”
Her shoulders sagged beneath the weight of the information he’d just given her.
“Not much chance of that,” Lucy murmured. She let out a ragged breath as she made up her mind. “I’m not telling my father.” There was no need f
or him to have this information. “He thinks of her as a hero, anyway. No reason to make him wonder if the woman he loved was faithful to him or if her duty to her country had her putting aside her marriage vows.” It was bad enough that she would always wonder about it, wonder without ever really having a chance to find out one way or another.
She stopped focusing on herself, on what this meant to her and what it did to the image of her mother that she carried around with her. Instead she turned her attention to the man who had gotten this for her against all odds. Who’d risked a great deal because of a promise he’d made to her.
She placed her hand on his. “Thank you. I realize that you got this at a cost.”
One broad shoulder rose and fell in a dismissive gesture. “I gave you my word.”
Which he prized a great deal, she thought. It just went to show her the measure of this man. At this moment he could have asked her anything and she would have tried to do it for him, tried to obtain it for him. Maybe that was even the purpose behind all this, she thought, and maybe later on she’d see it that way. But right now that speculation didn’t take away from the magnitude of what he’d done for her.
“You could have said that you couldn’t find out,” she pointed out.
By his expression, she could see that the thought hadn’t even crossed Collin’s mind. “But that would be lying.”
Her lips curved slightly. “I imagine you occasionally lie in your line of work.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers. She felt as if they were delving into her. Speaking to something that didn’t need words. “Not to someone who counts.”
Lucy looked at him for a long moment, so many things stirring up inside of her she couldn’t even begin to count, couldn’t begin to sort them out. She’d always thought of herself as never needing anyone, not in that way. And yet, it didn’t quite ring true, especially not at this moment. She didn’t want to be alone inside of it.
Military Man Page 13
