by Mona Ingram
“Thanks for trying. It’s as much as I could have hoped for.” She brightened. “I’ll see him next week then.”
Colin frowned. “You’re not staying here?” His eyes darted to the ring on her finger.
She didn’t dare look at Josh. What if she saw relief on his face? “No, a very dear friend is getting married on the weekend, and I’ve promised to be part of the wedding.”
“That’s too bad.” He turned to Josh. “Well, old chap, perhaps I should stay and keep you company. There must be something I can do around here to make myself useful.”
Josh clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry. We’ll find something. Now, how about a drink?”
During dinner, Olivia wondered why she’d been feeling uncertain about Josh. His eyes sought hers often, and in them she read a desire so intense that she forgot to breathe. Dirk made no comment but he must have been aware of the current that sizzled between his two dinner companions. At the end of the meal he folded his napkin and placed it neatly beside his plate. “I know we said we’d start working on our mission review tonight, but if you prefer we could put it off until tomorrow.” His expression was bland.
Josh grinned good-naturedly. “We have to get started sometime. Tonight is fine. You don’t mind, do you Olivia?”
“Not at all. I’ll review my notes while you two are working.”
“All right then. I’ll say goodnight.” Dirk kissed her on the cheek and nodded to Josh. “I’ll be outside, having a smoke.”
Josh slipped an arm around Olivia’s waist, guiding her up the stairs. They paused on the landing overlooking the great room. The fire in the fireplace crackled softly, the flames sending flickering shadows up the walls. “I’ll try to make it quick,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “Although I don’t know how I’ll be able to concentrate, knowing you’re up here.” His voice rumbled in his chest, and she breathed in his familiar scent, already dreading the day when she had to leave.
She brushed her fingertips against his lips. “I can wait if you can, although I must confess I’ve thought of little else all day.”
“God, Olivia. I want you so much.” He pulled her against his chest, and then backed away with a groan, holding her at arm’s length. “You’ll come to my room later?” He grinned boyishly.
She nodded silently, knowing the hours would pass slowly. He headed down the stairs, calling to Dirk. “All right my friend, let’s get this show on the road.”
* * *
Olivia wrapped herself in a blanket and curled up in the window seat. A three-quarter moon hung in the sky, turning the countryside into a dramatic black and silver daguerreotype. The uneasiness returned, taking small annoying bites out of her confidence. She hated feeling this way. There was no room in her life for self-doubt. At least there hadn’t been, before she met Josh. She held up her hand. The diamond appeared cold in the light from the moon and she slipped it off, twisting it this way and that. Her thoughts went back to the day he had given it to her. On that day she had seen a different Josh. Smooth, urbane and fully in charge. Her brows drew together. Over the past two weeks, he had shown her many different sides to his character. Was that what was bothering her…the knowledge that he could adopt a new persona as readily as a Hollywood actor? The idea was chilling. Pulling the blanket closer, she fought off the troubling thoughts and rested her forehead against the cool pane of glass.
* * *
Josh pulled down the sheet, and the heat of his gaze aroused her as never before. With infinite tenderness, he slid his hands into her hair, claiming her mouth with a kiss that seemed to draw the air from her lungs. Her body rose to meet him, her hands playing over the sinewy muscles of his chest and arms. With a pounding heart, her hand moved lower and he stilled as her fingers closed around his enormous erection.
Gasping for breath, she awoke from the dream. It had been so realistic she could still feel his hands in her hair and her mouth ached for one more kiss.
The moon had moved higher in the sky and she glanced at the clock. She’d been sitting in this uncomfortable position for over an hour. Unfolding her cramped legs, she tested them by taking a few steps toward the door. Josh’s voice floated up the stairs. He sounded angry–or was that frustration? She inched her way down the hall, still clutching the blanket around her shoulders. From the landing, she could see the two men sitting before the fireplace. They had allowed the fire to burn down, and in the glowing embers she saw Josh gesture angrily.
“Dammit, Dirk. I know it was necessary. All I’m saying is that using someone like that rubs me the wrong way.”
Olivia smiled to herself. He’d already apologized. She thought he’d understood that it was all right. Especially since she knew the reasons for the deception.
Dirk’s voice was weary. “How else were we to get to Blazek? Good God, man. You knew from the beginning that without Olivia’s connection to the Blazek family, the mission wouldn’t work. It was the only way to get to him.”
Olivia backed up into the shadows. What had Dirk just said? Something wasn’t right about this conversation. Her first instinct was to run back to her bedroom so she didn’t have to hear any more, but she remained glued to the spot. She strained to hear their words.
“I know.” Josh’s voice was thoughtful. “Imagine Colin being able to dig up that tidbit of information.” He massaged the back of his neck. “Finding out that Olivia had gone to school with Blazek’s daughter was a stroke of genius. Colin was right. Without her we’d never have been able to get inside the villa.”
“So you did what you had to do.” Dirk sipped his drink slowly. Olivia could imagine those clear blue eyes waiting for Josh’s response.
Josh nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“And was it worth it?”
Josh downed his drink with a gulp. “You know it was.” He stood up and lifted a poker from a set beside the fireplace, poking idly at the coals. His voice cracked. “When I saw those two warehouses go up, the pain that’s been gnawing at my gut these past few years disappeared like magic.” He turned to Dirk. “So yes, it was definitely worth it.”
Chapter Twelve
Olivia clamped her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Snatches of conversation and flashes of memory haunted her as she ran back to her room, but she could make no sense of them. She collapsed on the edge of the bed, both hands on her stomach as though she’d been punched, and rocked back and forth. The pain was almost unbearable. Josh had used her, and not as she had originally thought. He had known about Eliska’s father from the beginning and she had been nothing more than a link in their plot to ruin him. Jagged pain exploded behind her eyes, and she knew she was getting a serious headache.
She looked about wildly. She had to escape from this nightmare–except the pain in her heart told her it was no nightmare. Her first thought was to get as far away from Josh as possible, and that meant getting out of the house. Without any thought as to where she was going, she threw on her clothes and jammed her few remaining items into her bag. For the first time in her life she knew what it meant to be heartsick. A crushing weight had settled on her chest, competing with the pounding in her head. She took a slow, calming breath and willed herself to find the strength to get through this night. If she took this in small steps, she would survive. Instinct took over and her eyes raked over the room. She didn’t want to leave anything of herself behind. On the window seat, the diamond ring glinted in the moonlight. It must have fallen from her hands while she slept. She saw it now for what it was…part of the charade in which she had been an unwilling pawn.
She picked up the ring and tossed it onto the dresser; he couldn’t help but see it there. With one hand on the doorknob, she paused, and then dug through her bag. There was a sheet of letterhead from the Dorchester in here somewhere! She scribbled a note and placed it under the ring with a toss of her head. Then she slipped out into the hall.
No more than ten minutes had passed since she’d gone back to the bedroom, although it seemed like a
lifetime. The men were still sitting in front of the fireplace.
She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew she had to get out of the house tonight. Could she make it down the stairs and out the back door without being observed? She didn’t think so.
“I need a smoke.” Dirk stood up, fumbling for his packet of cigarettes.
“And I need a breath of fresh air.” Josh sounded dejected, but Olivia was not inclined to feel sympathy for him. This was her chance to escape undetected. As soon as the men walked out to the front verandah, she calmly walked down the stairs and out the back door. Josh and Dirk obviously weren’t finished yet. It could be hours before they realized she was gone.
The yard was surprisingly bright in the moonlight, every blade of grass and pebble clearly defined in the moonlight. In the distance, an owl hooted and her eyes moved in the direction of the sound. Beside the drive-in shed, the Jeep gleamed dully, and the next part of her plan began to take shape. Thank goodness she’d studied that map. She stealthily opened the door and tossed in her bags, then slid into the driver’s seat. She rolled down the window and sat quietly, listening for sounds from the house. After a few minutes, the screen door hinges squealed and male voices floated across the yard. Then the door slapped closed and all was silent again.
She turned the key in the ignition and, heart pounding, looked around to see if she’d been detected. No lights came on. Easing the Jeep away from the drive-in shed she gave silent thanks for the brilliance of the moon. She didn’t turn on the headlights until she’d navigated the road leading from the ranch house to the secondary highway. According to the map, there was a large town only two hundred miles away. She laughed out loud at the thought of two hundred miles being a short distance. Had she fallen under the spell of this beautiful land so easily?
* * *
Exhausted from rehashing the mission, Josh stood in the shower, letting hot water pound against his tired muscles. He had been right to dread this debriefing, even though he knew it was necessary. IATO was a sophisticated organization, and of necessity they had to learn from each sortie, searching for ways to make the next one more effective. Lifting up his head, he allowed the water to beat against his face. The next session with Dirk would be easier. Making recommendations was a positive step, and he looked forward to speaking his mind.
Using the cut and dried terminology of an intelligence report to describe Olivia’s capture and the night she spent in the warehouse had been surprisingly difficult. He prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, but reliving those twelve hours had been emotionally draining. He turned off the taps and dried off briskly.
He wasn’t sure how much sleep he would get tonight. Much as he would like a replay of last night, there were other items that had to be dealt with. He was going to tell Olivia about Zach. He hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about his brother since that television interview, but he knew now that if Olivia was to play a part in his future, she had to know the whole story. It may have been a small counterstrike in the war against terror, but when he’d fired that RPG at Blazek’s stockpile of arms, the healing had begun. Perhaps at some time in the future he’d tell her about needing her connection to Eliska. Maybe it was the coward’s way out to put that off, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her right now. What he could share was the most important information of all…his reason for wanting to catch Blazek. By the time they finished talking about Zach, he probably wouldn’t be much good for her tonight. But there was always tomorrow morning. Pleased with his decision, he eased his tired body between the cool sheets.
* * *
Dappled sunshine danced across the walls of Josh’s bedroom and he stretched out his arm. The bed beside him was empty. He sat up groggily. Had Olivia come to him last night while he was sleeping? Surely he hadn’t been that unconscious! He pulled on his shorts and jeans and padded down the hall in his bare feet, selfishly hoping that she was still asleep. He wanted to watch her as she awoke, to see desire surface in those beautiful eyes.
The bed hadn’t been slept in. He took a few steps inside the room. What was going on here? The closet doors were open, revealing empty hangars and nothing else. The bathroom was bare. As he turned to leave, he spotted the diamond ring on the dresser. Only last night, he’d felt a glow of satisfaction when he noticed it on her hand.
He stared at it as though it were a rattler, coiled to strike. He had a premonition that a rattler’s bite might be preferable.
Her penmanship was unsteady, lacking her usual flair, but the message was clear. ‘Shame On Me’. The words seared themselves into his brain like a hot branding iron, and he gripped the edge of the dresser as the bottom fell out of his stomach. What was that saying again? ‘Fool Me Once, Shame on You. Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me.” He read the words again and a band of dread closed around his heart. She had discovered the true deception.
* * *
The trip back to London was long and arduous, and yet Olivia scarcely remembered it. She’d boarded a plane in the first city she came to and flew to Chicago, then on to New York, arriving within hours of a British Airways flight to London. She’d called the ranch from Chicago, telling Maisie where they could find the Jeep. With a soft ‘good-bye’, she’d hung up before the housekeeper could call Josh to the phone.
The weather was dreary when she arrived at Heathrow and she boarded the express train to Paddington Station. Finally, on the last leg of the trip, she sank back in the cab, praying that she could hold herself together until she was safely inside her flat.
“Are you all right, Miss?” The cabbie took the proffered note and passed her change through the window.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Olivia smiled weakly. She didn’t think she’d ever be fine again, but she’d made it this far, and that was all that counted.
Somehow she made it into her flat and put on the kettle for a cup of tea. Tired to the bone, she kicked off her boots, propped up her feet on the coffee table and turned on the television, clicking idly through the channels. Why wasn’t her brain working properly? She turned off the television then crossed the room to the window and looked across at the small fenced park, wondering if she’d lost the ability to feel.
Once the initial shock of Josh’s betrayal wore off, she’d expected to experience anger, or at least the desire to strike back; to hurt him as he’d hurt her. But there was only an empty space where her heart used to be. She picked up her cup and saucer, the cup rattling unsteadily. The sound pulled her back from the edge. Somehow she’d managed to make it through today. Tomorrow she would start looking for answers.
* * *
“Good morning, Miss MacMillan. I was expecting to hear from you.” Colin Chisholm sounded nothing like Olivia expected. With his polished accent, he might have been employed in her father’s investment bank. Was everyone at IATO a chameleon? She made a mental note not to be diverted when she finally got to meet him.
“I’d like to come and see you if that’s convenient. I understand Dirk mentioned to you that I’d like to write an article on his latest mission.” Her tone was crisp and businesslike. She wasn’t ready to tell him that she’d changed her mind. The story would remain unwritten. They’d had all the help they would get from her. But she still wanted to meet the man who had pulled the strings.
“Yes, he did mention it. Could you possibly stop by around eleven this morning? The rest of my day is rather full, I’m afraid.”
“Of course.”
He provided the address and she hung up. She had no idea what she expected to accomplish, but at this point she was operating on instinct. She dressed carefully. If she were to go down in flames, at least she’d look good doing it.
* * *
Colin’s office, while not luxurious, was tastefully appointed. Offering his hand, he smiled graciously, and asked her if she’d like a cup of tea.
“No thank you,” she replied, feeling slightly uneasy under the scrutiny of the piercing green eyes across the desk. Colin Chisholm di
dn’t miss much.
“I’ve given your proposal a great deal of thought.” He steepled his fingers. “Although I’m sure you’d do justice to the story, I’m afraid I have to ask you not to write it.”
She regarded him coolly. “You sound like my editor.”
He blinked twice. “I hope that’s a compliment.”
“I suppose it is. You see, he can be ruthless as well.” She watched his reaction for any flicker of discomfort. There was none. “As you can tell, I don’t mind about the story. I had already decided that the article would be so severely edited that there wouldn’t be much of a story left.”
“You’re right about that I’m afraid. It would have been heavily censored.” He spread his palms. “In that case, why are you here?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know.” This wasn’t going quite the way she’d imagined. But then she hadn’t imagined that she’d be tongue-tied, either. She’d never get answers to her questions this way.
“That’s not quite true,” she blurted out. “I do know why I’m here.” She squared her shoulders. “Tell me one thing. What criteria do you use in choosing the men for each mission? For example, how did you choose Josh Morgan?” She mentally applauded herself for saying his name without choking. “Why did you put him on this particular job? Was it because you needed a sexy, good-looking man with attitude to sweep me off my feet?” She was gathering steam. “You intentionally sent him to find me and romance me. And all because my roommate in Switzerland was Eliska Blazek. You used me, Mr. Chisholm, and Josh Morgan used me.”
He regarded her calmly. “You’re right, of course.” Taking a deep breath, he hunched forward on his desk and his bearing changed. He radiated intensity. “You’re a journalist Miss MacMillan and a rather good one, so I’m going to be perfectly blunt. Unlike most of your readers, you’ve seen first-hand how innocent people suffer because of men like Jiri Blazek. You try to describe the horror of it, but not even someone as talented as you can portray the shameful waste of life you saw in Afghanistan. Every conflict in the area is the same.” He paused. “Perhaps I should say they have the same results.”
