by Debra Webb
Landry claimed his bag from the cargo area. Olivia and Jeffrey did the same. She was beginning to worry about him. He hadn’t said a word since they left I-95.
That communication strike ended the instant she and Jeffrey were alone in their own room.
“Olivia, we have to contact the police. This is way, way out of control.” He dropped his bag onto the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. He looked haggard. Clearly he had reached the end of his rope emotionally.
She couldn’t keep lugging him around with her. He could have been killed today.
They both could have.
The reality that she hadn’t drawn her weapon when coming face-to-face with the enemy scared her more than any other aspect of the day’s adventure.
Why hadn’t her survival instincts kicked in?
She should have had her weapon in her hand before she opened that door. Her enemy’s failure to draw his own weapon was the only thing that had saved her ass.
As well as Jeffrey’s.
And it didn’t make a damn lick of sense.
Jeffrey sat down on the edge of the bed. His somber face warned Olivia that she might not be talking him out of his decision this time.
“If you choose to leave this hotel with Landry then you’ll be doing so alone,” he said flatly. “I can’t go along with this any longer.”
She sat down next to him. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Jeffrey.” Clasping her hands in her lap, she let her shoulders sag with her own fatigue. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. The only thing I’m certain of at this point is that I can’t walk away.”
“It’s his fault.” He glared toward the connecting door she had yet to unlock. “He started this mess.”
She couldn’t argue either of those statements, not really. What she could do was ask some more questions. The reactions of Woods and his men had given her pause.
“I need to speak with him.” She searched Jeffrey’s face for signs of disapproval. “Will you be okay over here for a few minutes? You won’t make any calls until I get back and we’ve talked?”
“No calls until you come back. But I don’t trust him,” he said firmly. “Be careful what you agree to. I’m certain he has some hidden agenda that will only create more trouble for you.”
She stood. “I’ll be back soon.”
Jeffrey massaged the back of his neck. “I think I’ll order room service or takeout if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” She hesitated at the door. “Don’t forget the Pepsi.” Somehow she managed to dredge up a smile. “Be right back.”
She opened the doors leading to Landry’s room without knocking. He would be expecting her. He’d left his side unlocked. There would be no question in his mind what she was thinking. He’d heard the conversation between her and the director.
Landry had stripped down to his jeans. She reminded herself not to visually examine his well-defined chest. She’d seen it before. No need to linger there. She knew every amazing contour.
“I still feel like you’re keeping something from me, Landry.” Why beat around the bush? He had to be expecting this. She closed the door behind her. Some aspects of this conversation were off-limits to Jeffrey…could actually endanger him even further.
“I told you everything I can.”
Landry kicked back on the bed, the pillows behind him for support as he reviewed his map.
The desire to whip out her Beretta and make him talk was palpable. The only problem with that scenario was that she could shoot out his kneecaps and he still wouldn’t talk. Not unless he wanted to. That part she knew for sure.
She assumed a position next to the bed, adopting her most intimidating posture. “Woods had no idea what I was talking about. He had no idea I was alive. I just can’t figure out if that’s related to what you’re not telling me.”
He set his map aside and pushed to his feet, forcing her to take two steps back to avoid his entering her personal space. “You can’t be certain of anything yet, Nessa. Woods may have told you what he wanted you to hear.”
Tiny blasts of annoyance imploded, one by one, deep inside her. He did that, used her old name, just to keep her off balance.
Unfortunately it worked.
“I saw his face, Landry. Saw his eyes. He wasn’t lying. I really want to believe that you’re not.”
He moved closer. Too close. The implosions of irritation turned to anticipation. Her pulse responded.
“I need you to trust me a little longer,” he said, his tone too low, too intimate for comfort.
She firmed her defenses, held her ground. He wasn’t going to influence her with his vast charm. “I still say he didn’t know.”
“We’re not finished yet. There’s still Hamilton and Echols.”
“What about Andrew Page?” she demanded. “Is your former Interpol superior suddenly exempt?”
Somehow he was closer now. She’d scarcely blinked and he’d invaded her territory. She hadn’t noticed him move, but that bare chest felt too close…too inviting.
“Woods might not have been the one,” Landry allowed, “but he turned a blind eye when you went down. Whether he knew the specifics of your situation or not, he understood that something wrong happened. Andrew isn’t exempt, either. He knows things…the same as the others do. The bottom line is, whatever Woods did or did not know, he wanted to take you in today. That much was clear. We can’t let up until we’ve got them all running in circles.”
She backed up a step. She didn’t care if he recognized his effect on her. She couldn’t stand there feeling the heat from his body a second longer.
“Nothing we do is going to clear my name,” she countered. “Vanessa Clark is dead. She died a rogue agent, a traitor. End of story, Landry. No matter if we prove who gave the order, the woman I used to be will still be dead and buried. We need to stick to a single agenda—finding out who wants Olivia Mills dead.”
For the third time since he’d crashed back into her life she failed to see his next move coming. His fingers were suddenly in her hair, tugging her close…his mouth claimed hers in an act so bold, so demanding that she couldn’t assemble a proper thought much less an evasive maneuver.
He kissed her the way he had before, with every ounce of his being. She didn’t have to wonder…she could feel all of him in the act. Holt Landry was a master kisser…an equally masterful lover. She shuddered, tried not to think.
He pulled back just far enough to draw in a desperate breath, the rush of air between their damp lips sending fire raging through her.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
The words…his touch…were too much.
She planted her palms against that bare chest and pushed with what meager strength he hadn’t drained from her. “Don’t do this.”
He wouldn’t let her go. He held on, cradling her face in his hands. “Do you know what it did to me when I thought you were dead? I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t work. Nothing. I searched for you. Talked to a thousand people in an attempt to confirm what I’d been told. I was crazy with grief.” He pressed his forehead to hers. Stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I couldn’t bear the idea that you were gone.”
She pushed harder against him. Had to get some distance between them. The desire to touch him more intimately…to have him skin to skin was almost overwhelming.
She was a fool. A damn fool. How the hell could she still feel this way knowing what she knew about their past? She couldn’t let him change the subject like this.
“They took you from me.” He backed off a little but he didn’t let go completely. His hands rested on her shoulders, maintaining the connection that was tearing her apart inside. “They destroyed all that you were. I want them to pay. I want the people responsible to face up to their crimes. I want you safe.”
It would be so easy to believe him. So simple to fall into his arms and take up right where they left off three years ago.
But things were too complicated right now�
�and even if they weren’t, how could she trust her heart to him again? Nothing he said, no amount of scorching kisses, would change the facts. He’d damaged her too badly.
“I need the truth, Landry. The whole truth.”
His hands fell away and she hoped the resignation in his eyes was real. There could be no more secrets between them…not about this.
“You’re right.” Landry shoved his hands into his pockets, emphasizing the part of him that had once given Olivia great pleasure. “I haven’t told you everything.”
She felt weak with relief. “Tell me.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “Tell me everything. I have to know all of it.”
“Somehow someone found out you were still alive. We don’t know who it is yet, but whoever it is, he wants you dead.”
Frustration furrowed its way across her brow. “Why? What is it they think I know?”
“You’re the only one left who knows what really happened. Even I wasn’t there when the assassination went down. No matter the threats we toss around, alone, anything I say will only be chalked up to hearsay or conjecture. But you were there. You carried out the hit. Your testimony combined with my statement would nail someone’s ass to the wall.”
“That administration is over,” she protested. “Mistakes that were made three years ago will only be seen as a nuisance and swept under the rug. I’m betting our new president wouldn’t be that worried about what I did then. Regardless of what’s going on in the Middle East.” Though the media’s ability to twist ancient history into current events could make a person deeply regret an action, past or present. There was that, she supposed.
“Under normal circumstances you would be right,” he assented.
He rested his hands at his waist, the muscles of his arms flexing and contracting with the move, disrupting her focus as well as her respiration. She needed him to get to the point. Spending any more time with him in this suggestive setting was asking for trouble.
“Remember I told you that old enemies were now allies.”
“Of course.” She watched the news. Anywhere you looked there was trouble brewing. Great care was required to keep the delicate balance even among those political venues this government had once snubbed.
“If word gets out that someone in the American government had such an important man killed for no other reason than to influence an election, that someone will be done in this business. No one knows, outside the handful of suspects we’ve talked about and the two of us, that the CIA was responsible for that assassination, Vanessa. If the man who gave that order is exposed, he’ll be lucky to walk away with his life. But worst of all, relations with the Middle East will be shattered, regardless of whether the current administration is innocent or not.”
The scariest part of his ongoing monologue was that he was absolutely right. She had sensed that he’d known more than he was telling—now she knew for certain.
“Perception is everything these days,” he persisted. “All it takes is one black mark to push a player out of the game. Our president doesn’t want any additional trouble in the Middle East. Particularly considering the country whose leader you took out of action has now formed an alliance not only with the U.S. but with former ruthless enemies. Enemies with whom the U.S. has waited decades to negotiate. A historical alliance will soon be under way. The administration can’t afford any ripples. My guess is that your old mission was brought up within the context of possible stumbling blocks and someone has decided that he needs to tie up any remaining loose ends to ensure he isn’t sorry later.”
In other words, despite being dead as far as the Agency was concerned, she had become a liability.
“Why didn’t you just give me a call and tell me this in the first place?” Frustration and fury overtook the suspicion and surprise, making her madder than hell. “Why the game?”
“I received word that you’d been targeted for elimination. I was afraid you wouldn’t listen to me and I was right. You wouldn’t have. I had to do something drastic to get your attention so you’d act quickly.”
She went toe-to-toe with him, no longer concerned with keeping her distance or how he looked or how he smelled. “And just how did you come to have access to this information, Mr. Landry, ex–Interpol agent?” He’d told her he’d quit. How could he be this deeply involved with this operation—and that was exactly what this was—and be retired, so to speak?
He looked away. A concession to guilt?
“Who is your source, Landry?” She couldn’t be here if he didn’t tell her everything. He was in this up to his eyeballs, dammit.
“My former superior.”
Andrew Page had set this whole thing in motion. Why? She moved in closer still. “Look at me when you speak to me, Landry. I want to see the lie in your eyes.”
As if in slow motion his face turned back to hers; their gazes connected and she wasn’t prepared for what she saw.
Pain…fear.
Impossible.
She blinked.
Landry had never been afraid of anything.
He had no heart. He couldn’t feel pain or fear.
“I watched you all that time. Wanted you.” He licked his lips, the lingering taste of their kiss no doubt still there. His voice weaving a spell even now she couldn’t resist. “But I stayed away,” he confessed softly, “to protect you. I wouldn’t risk endangering you. Alone you were invisible, but the two of us would have been too risky.”
The spell he cast so easily shattered as she reminded herself that he hadn’t been there to back her up when she’d needed him three years ago. Fury ate a path through her chest. “To protect me? How the hell were you protecting me? You were the reason I had to agree to faking my own death, you son of a bitch!”
She clamped her mouth shut. Forced herself to take a breath. If she started yelling again, Jeffrey would come to check on her. He didn’t need to hear any of this.
“I took on the CIA, Nessa,” Landry admitted, his tone still quiet and calm, frustratingly so.
She let her glare speak for itself. “What does that mean?”
“I raised hell. Let them know that I knew what they’d done. Andrew was the only reason I was able to walk away from the confrontation. He took immediate action. Got me out of the country. Probably saved my life.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes. “You were targeted for elimination because of what you knew.”
He nodded. “I was just like you. I had to disappear to stay alive.”
A whole load of emotions dumped on her at once. He’d lost his life as well because of that operation. He’d gone through the same thing she had.
Her breath caught. “What about your mother?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t risk seeing her or even calling her.”
Olivia’s hand when to her throat. That was the one part of Landry that had always grounded him in the human race, the way he doted about his mother. “She must miss you terribly.”
His gaze shifted away from her again. “She died last year.”
Olivia closed her eyes and forced back the emotions pounding at her brain. She had to think. Had to process all this information.
Damn whoever had done this to them.
“I’m working as a go-between. Andrew trusts me. He’ll listen to me. We have to know who is responsible. It’s the only way we’ll ever make this right,” he said, his gaze leveling on hers once more. “Hamilton fits near the top of that category.”
“I’m not willing to lay this on him just yet.” She rubbed her right temple, a headache beginning there. She needed to eat. As if she’d only just awoken from a long sleep, the smell of the pizza Jeffrey had ordered wafted beneath the door and tugged at her senses.
“But…” When she set aside personal feelings and really considered Hamilton as a suspect, she just couldn’t get past the idea that he would have let her live for three years only to suddenly want her dead. “If it’s Hamilton, why didn’t he eliminate me before?”
“My
understanding is that this new political arrangement only recently became a priority, making this dirty little secret suddenly a far more volatile issue.”
She shook her head. “Then why didn’t he kill me the other night when he had the chance? I walked right into his weekend home. He had the perfect opportunity.”
“That one’s simple.”
She waited expectantly for him to explain what was so damn simple about it.
“He needs both of us dead. He was waiting for me to show up. You know, kill two birds with one stone. If he had eliminated you too quickly he would have risked any chance of reeling me in. He wouldn’t have found me in a million years.”
Jesus. That part could definitely be true. That still didn’t convince her that Hamilton was dirty.
“But why have me tell Woods that you were going to back me up if you were already on his hit list?”
“Our goal is to find the truth. To ferret out just how high up the chain of command the betrayal goes. The only way to do that is to use the element of surprise. Shock value. Make them think we know more than we do. That’s what you accomplished with Woods today. Now we’ll see what Woods does with this new information. He knows we’re together and that we’ve formed a plan of action. He didn’t want us to get away but we did. Now he has no choice but to react.”
“We’re giving each suspect the rope he needs to hang himself,” she surmised aloud.
“Precisely.”
And they were both targets.
If there was one thing she had learned, when the CIA wanted a target dead…
…that target usually got dead.
Chapter 12
Olivia couldn’t sleep that night.
Jeffrey had finally given up his own battle and started to snore softly. They had talked and he had convinced her to allow him to call his lab tomorrow morning to let the senior scientist know that an emergency had come up. He’d suggested she call her part-time assistant, as well. He was right. She should have thought of that. The last thing she needed right now was someone going to the authorities and reporting them missing.
