by Amelia Autin
* * *
Five tables away—not close enough to hear the conversation, even though they strained their ears—a couple posing as husband and wife covertly watched the other couple. Both wondered what Savannah Whitman was saying to put that steely eyed expression on her companion’s face. And both wondered just who the hell he was, what he was doing with their target and...whether or not they’d need to take him out. Things were going to be tricky enough as it was. They didn’t need some stranger throwing a monkey wrench into the works.
“She was supposed to be on her own,” the woman muttered. “Isn’t that what Spencer told us?”
“Yes.” Just the one word, but it conveyed a wealth of meaning.
“How are we supposed to—”
Her pseudo-husband cut her off. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”
“Yes but—”
“Quiet!” He cast her a quelling glance. “I’m trying to read their lips.” He cursed under his breath. “But the angle is all wrong, damn it! Why did you allow the hostess to seat us in this out-of-the-way table? If we were closer, I might be able to hear what they’re saying or at least read their lips.”
“Why did I—It was you. You were the one who—”
He brought his hand up sharply, and she fell silent. “Let’s go the buffet,” he said, standing abruptly. “Maybe we can maneuver into getting close enough to hear something. At least find out who the hell he is.”
* * *
Niall shook his head and the eerie feeling went away, but he wondered what it meant. He’d never suffered from vertigo before, but then, deep down, he knew it wasn’t vertigo. He just didn’t want acknowledge the real cause. To distract himself he said, “So your parents were killed in an accident. And then...?”
“At first I was in shock. I mean...they weren’t that old. I just didn’t expect it, you know?”
He nodded.
“Not both of them at the same time. But as I was picking out clothes for them to be buried in, it came to me with such cruel irony that they never fulfilled their dream. They’d planned this trip for so long, and then—boom! They never got to take it. They never saw the Egyptian pyramids except in photographs. They never stood on the Acropolis and felt history all around them. They never gazed at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in awe and wonder. All the things they’d promised each other they’d do someday.”
Her voice was little more than a whisper at this point, and Niall sensed she was talking more to herself than to him. She swallowed hard, and he knew she was holding back tears.
“Someday never came for them. Death cheated them out of the someday they’d promised each other. I stood at their graves after the funeral, and I swore I wasn’t going to wait another day. I was going to do all the things I’d dreamed of doing, and I was going to do them now.”
Niall saw it all then, and the relief that rushed through him was out of proportion to what she’d said. But it wasn’t out of proportion to what it meant to him.
“I resigned the very next day. Everyone thought I was overreacting to my parents’ deaths, and would change my mind once I came to my senses. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but they tried to convince me anyway. They wanted me to postpone my decision until I’d had time to think about it. No amount of thinking was going to make a difference, though. Does that make sense?”
Niall nodded again.
“I gave them a month’s notice, but I agreed to extend it to two because I still had to settle my parents’ estate, sell their house. Stuff like that. And I needed time to arrange some of the trips I wanted to take anyway, so...”
She paused for a moment, then continued. “But I... I couldn’t explain the real reason I’d resigned to the people at work. They didn’t want to listen, and I’m not very good at talking about personal issues with them, anyway, especially my section hea—”
She cut off the rest of what she’d started to say, and Niall filled in the blanks. Section head, by which he knew she meant her immediate supervisor at the internationally famous defense contractor—one of the top five in the US—where she’d worked up until a month ago.
Her sudden reticence in discussing her job made more sense to him than it might have to someone who wasn’t in his line of work. Employees of defense contractors were strongly urged never to talk about what they did with outsiders, for fear of security leaks. Savannah had been a missile guidance, navigation and control engineer. She’d held a top secret clearance granted by the Department of Defense and had designed weapons the US relied upon to stay ahead of its enemies militarily.
But he’d bet anything she’d resigned because she was fulfilling some kind of vow she’d made to herself and to her parents. Not because she was a potential traitor.
Between her confession and everything he’d learned by hacking into her computer and searching her hotel room last night, it all boiled down to one thing: his assignment was most likely a total bust. Whoever had gotten it into his head that Savannah planned to sell what she knew to the Chinese government and had dispatched him here was way off base.
If he didn’t need to worm his way into her confidence and compile evidence to arrest and convict her of espionage...if he didn’t need to worry about her betraying his country, either...that meant she wasn’t a security risk. Which also meant, even as a last resort, he wouldn’t have to kill her.
And considering his reaction to kissing her earlier, that revelation was a godsend.
Chapter 3
“Oops!” said a voice behind Savannah as someone bumped into her chair. “Sorry about—Well, hey there!”
She looked up and saw a face she recognized from their tour group, but she couldn’t immediately put a name to the face and searched in vain for a nametag.
“Savannah Whitman, right?” the vivacious blonde said. “I’m Mary Beth, remember? Mary Beth Thompson. And this is my husband, Herb.” She turned to the man who’d come up beside her, holding a full plate. “Herb, you remember Savannah, right? We were on the same plane from San Francisco.”
Mary Beth chattered away about the crowded conditions at the Great Wall. “All that pushing and shoving! So rude, too! Why, I could barely take a picture without someone walking right into the frame.” She moved on to discuss the factory they’d visited afterward. “Wasn’t that jade factory incredible? Did you buy anything? I could have spent a fortune. Good thing I had Herb with me,” Mary Beth said with a laugh, “or I’d have put a major dent in my credit card for sure! But I have to say, the food in the factory restaurant was just so-so, don’t you think? Not five-star like this restaurant.”
Savannah couldn’t get a word in edgewise. But apparently Mary Beth didn’t need an answer to any of her questions. She just kept rolling on, and Savannah was terribly afraid at any moment Mary Beth would suggest she and her husband join them for dinner. Savannah didn’t want to—not only was she already getting a headache listening to Mary Beth’s incessant chatter, she also wanted Niall all to herself. But she didn’t know how she’d say no if...
“Well, hello,” said another woman, stopping by their table, accompanied by a smiling man, both of whom looked familiar. “Weren’t you in our cable car going up to the Great Wall this morning?” she asked Savannah.
“Oh. Oh yes, I think I was. It’s...” Savannah surreptitiously looked for a nametag she didn’t find, then searched her memory. “It’s Tammy and...and Martin, right?” she said triumphantly. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your last name.”
“Williams,” the man threw in.
“That’s right. Sorry, I’m really bad with names.”
Niall had risen when Mary Beth and her husband had stopped at their table, and had stayed standing. But after one quick glance at Savannah’s face, he politely but firmly made it very clear the other couples were de trop.
Savannah smiled
admiringly at Niall when they were alone again. “How did you do that?” she asked, leaning forward to make sure she couldn’t be overheard. “I mean, you weren’t rude, but you managed to get rid of them in no time at all.”
He shrugged, but a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Just something I picked up at my mother’s knee.”
“I want to meet your mother.”
His smile deepened. “You’d like her. And what’s more to the point, she’d like you.”
A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her, so unexpected, so real she was afraid to look down in case she’d see blood somewhere. She tried not to let her smile fade away, but she wasn’t completely successful. Niall watched her for a moment, then said in a quiet voice, “Just tell me.”
The words slipped out. “My parents would have loved you.”
He didn’t say anything, just took her hand in his and stroked his thumb back and forth in a move that was both comforting and somehow erotic.
“I miss them so much,” she whispered in a desperate undertone. “My mom—she’s the one who got me interested in ancient history. I was thinking of her when I was standing on the Great Wall. Remembering lying on my bed, poring over books on ancient China with her. And my dad—he’s the one who introduced me to the pure beauty of mathematics. But I didn’t want to be a mathematician, like him. I wanted to be an engineer because it was applied math. I wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help keep the world safe. That’s why I became a—”
She stopped short because she suddenly remembered her numerous security briefings. Don’t tell anyone what you do, she’d been warned. You can say who you work for, but nothing more than that. And never mention your security clearance.
But Niall’s eyes held such understanding, she added, “I know people mock ideals these days. And patriotism seems passé, but that’s how my parents raised me. When I graduated college, I was recruited by...” She mentioned the name of her former employer, knowing Niall would probably recognize the name and make the connection to the Department of Defense. “Microsoft and Google recruited me, too, and a half dozen other companies. But I wanted to do my part in keeping my country safe.”
His hold on her hand tightened. “I understand, more than you can possibly know.” His voice dropped a notch. “That’s how my parents raised me, too. There’s this quotation from Edward Everett Hale my dad carved in wood before I was born, and hung over the fireplace mantel in the family room at home. It’s still there. ‘I am only one, but I am one,’” he recited softly. “‘I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.’”
She gazed wonderingly at him. “Would you believe I’ve read that saying before? Not exactly those words, but close.”
“Yeah. I’ve seen variations on it, too. But it influenced me from the time I was old enough to understand what it meant. And I joined the Marine Corps when I turned eighteen. So did all my brothers and my baby sister when they were old enough. Not that my parents pushed us into it. It was just...” He seemed to search for the words. “A way of giving back, I guess. I know our country isn’t perfect. We’ve made mistakes. Grievous ones sometimes. But I wouldn’t trade the US for any other country in the world.”
Savannah smiled tremulously at Niall. “You do understand.”
“Yeah. I do.”
They gazed at each other in silence for endless moments, and Savannah had never felt closer to another human being than she did right then with Niall. But eventually she tore her gaze away and glanced down at her largely untouched plate. “Oh rats,” she said for something to say. “Our food’s cold.”
“It’s a buffet. You could get a new plate.”
“And waste good food?” She shook her head at him and picked up her fork. “I’m not going to perpetuate the stereotype of the ‘ugly American.’ Not if I can help it. It’s cold, but it’s still edible.”
They made small talk as they ate. And Savannah couldn’t believe this was really her. Where was the woman who was tongue-tied in the presence of the male of the species in a social situation? But everything seemed natural with Niall, as if she’d known him forever instead of meeting him for the first time this morning.
She frowned as she acknowledged the truth of that thought; she really knew nothing about Niall.
“Are you still a marine?” she blurted out.
He shook his head. “Four years was enough for me. My older brother made it his career, though, until—” He stopped abruptly, and Savannah wondered what he’d intended to say.
“Until...?”
“Until he was wounded and they gave him a medical discharge. Now he does something else.”
“If you didn’t make the Corps your career, what do you do?” She almost missed his slight hesitation.
“Security.”
She wondered about that infinitesimal pause, but didn’t ask him about it. Instead she said, “What made you decide to take this trip? I mean, it’s mostly couples. And it’s mostly people who are...” She cleared her throat. “Well, retired. I know why I’m here, but...”
He smiled at her. “I’m forty. Not retired yet, but not so young, either. And I have a bucket list, just like you. Everything seemed to dovetail with work, and so...”
He wasn’t being completely truthful. She didn’t know how she knew that; she just did. But she wasn’t ready to call him on it. Yet. Someday, she vowed, he’ll trust me enough to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
As soon as that thought occurred to her, another thought crept into her consciousness. What made her think there was going to be a someday with Niall?
* * *
They strolled leisurely through the hotel’s vast lobby afterward, in companionable silence for the most part. When they passed the shop where Savannah had purchased her dress, she stopped momentarily to look at the others in the window. “I almost bought that one,” she murmured, pointing to a red silk sheath with the most gorgeous gold embroidery in a very Chinese design.
“Red’s not your color.” Niall turned, and when his gaze traveled over her from head to toe, Savannah felt it as a caress.
“No?”
“No. It’s all wrong for you.”
She didn’t know what made her say it—she never flirted—but she teased, “I didn’t know you were a connoisseur of women’s clothing.”
A short huff of laughter answered her. “I’m not. But I’m a connoisseur of you.” His voice dropped. “And what you’re wearing is perfect...for you.”
She caught her breath at the blatant desire in his eyes, kindling an answering desire in her. And all at once she remembered this morning, and her determination that if Niall wanted to make love to her, she wasn’t going to say no. Except for that one time she’d fallen in love in her teens, she’d played it safe all her life where relationships were concerned. How many chances like this would come her way? How many opportunities would she have to live the fantasy?
You even planned for this, she reminded herself. There’s a box of condoms waiting upstairs. But she couldn’t make her lips form the words to invite him up to her room. She wanted to. But she couldn’t.
* * *
Niall saw Savannah safely back to her hotel room on the thirty-eighth floor. He leaned in and kissed her lightly, not trusting himself any further than that. If he kissed her the way he wanted to—the way she deserved—he wouldn’t have been able to walk away at all. And he needed to. The shy invitation in Savannah’s eyes was an indictment of him. Of his assignment. And of what he’d actually—for a brief period—considered doing. How do you make love to a woman you’d convinced yourself you could kill?
He could have done it yesterday, if absolutely necessary. He could have slept with a traitor without a qualm and gone after the e
vidence to convict her, or kill her, when she was still his target. But not now. Not when he knew his assignment was most likely pure BS. He’d done things for his country that kept him up at night, things he wouldn’t necessarily want his mother or sister to know about, but he’d never done anything of which he was ashamed...until now.
“Lock your door,” he whispered when he raised his head.
“Lock my door?” Bewilderment shone from her gray eyes.
“I want to hear that lock click behind you. Then I’ll know you’re safe...from me.”
She caught her breath. “What if I don’t want to be safe?”
The sound that issued from his throat was nothing more or less than a growl. “Damn it, Savannah! You don’t know the first thing about me.”
She stared up at him, an enigmatic expression on her face. “You’re wrong,” she said quietly. “I know you better than you think.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “The fact that you have no intention of following me into my room despite what your body is saying tells me all I really need to know about you.” She reached up and touched two fingers to his cheek. “Good night, Niall. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
Then she was gone, closing the door in his face the way he’d told her to do. And the click of the lock was audible.
He walked next door and inserted his keycard in the slot. Savannah didn’t know it, but he’d arranged to have the room right next to hers. She was also unaware he’d broken into her room last night while she was at the lavish three-hour Peking duck banquet outside their hotel, which Niall had missed.
He’d searched everything Savannah had with her and had found nothing. No incriminating papers. No CDs, DVDs or thumb drives that might contain top secret files. He’d hacked into her laptop, too, and copied her data files for perusal back in his hotel room, which he’d done into the wee hours of this morning. He’d also installed worm software on her laptop. Every keystroke she made, every website she visited, every email she sent—Niall would know about it.
And he’d planted nearly invisible voice-activated cameras and listening devices, all of which weren’t necessary if she wasn’t a traitor or a security risk. He wouldn’t turn off the electronic monitoring system yet, just to be on the safe side. But they were checking out of this hotel day after tomorrow. When she went down to breakfast that morning, he would retrieve the equipment he’d installed last night, then install it at their next hotel. Assuming he didn’t get called back to the US in the meantime.
