“We can help his love life as well as find me a head of the American operation. First, though, you have to help me satisfy a few cravings I can’t seem to get rid of.”
“You’re insatiable. You’ll most likely die a hundred-and-ten-year-old with an erection.”
“And I’ll die smiling because you’re lying naked in my bed.” He held onto her hand and pulled her toward their bedroom.
Chapter Eight
The sun shone straight through the window of Dane’s office at Pelican Industries, mocking him. The perfect weather and brilliant blue ocean screwed with his guilty conscience. Eve was in London. Rainy, cold London on a winter day. She’d trusted him, and he’d fled. He’d never almost killed a friend over a female. Then again, he’d never cared about anyone as much as he cared about her. She turned his mind inside out and made him irrational. That was not a trait that would keep him alive in his field.
How had he become so attached to her? Relationships scared the hell out of him. He’d been with every type of woman possible: the clingy, crying type; the angry, hostile type; the carefree, happy type; and the type of woman who understands the rules and doesn’t complain when it’s time to part ways. Eve wasn’t any of those women. Was she? She never actually said she wanted to remain with him. In fact, she was pretty focused on leaving him and getting back to work. Yet the pain in her eyes when she saw him with the blonde had scorched a permanent scar in his mind.
He’d told the woman who had approached him in the pub that he wasn’t looking for a companion. And yet, she persisted. He didn’t care to talk about reality stars and wardrobe malfunctions. Gretchen Something terminally bored him. Eve was a million times more intelligent, more interesting…more everything. The woman must have noticed his disinterest because she’d left when he stared at the pub door for several minutes without responding to her simple questions about what he did for a living. If she hadn’t walked away, he’d have excused himself and found an empty chair at the bar. The right woman was wrong for him, but he wouldn’t replace her with a cheap imitation. He’d internalized the pain he’d seen in Eve’s eyes as though he’d been shot through the chest and left to die on the floor. If she’d felt half as miserable, he should have run after her. Instead, he’d done nothing to correct her misinterpretation of what had happened. He truly was an ass.
He’d thought about her the entire flight back the States. How could he have let her go? He enjoyed spending time with her, and she never tolerated his quest for control of everything around him. Instead, she made her own demands and expected at least half to be complied with. If he did want a wife, she’d be perfect. But his need to protect her brought out the assassin in him, a person he’d tried to bury long ago. Having her around him would only result in someone getting hurt. Blood had already spilled. The blood of his best friend. What would he do if someone Dane didn’t trust had wanted to hurt her? Better to keep her at a distance, for everyone’s benefit.
His phone rang.
“O’Brien.”
“It’s Greg. How was London?” Greg, one of a handful of people from the CIA who knew Dane’s embedded role, would want a reason for his journey from Bogotá to London. He had a better chance of receiving an invitation to wipe the president’s ass onboard Air Force One.
“Rainy.”
“You’d have remained dry if you reported to the meeting in your office two days ago. Your inability to stay on task is becoming hazardous to your cover and your career.” Greg paused and waited for an excuse that would never be coming. He didn’t need to know about Simon. “How’s your new wife?”
“Still in London. She’s probably shopping.” And planning a murder. His.
“Good. She’s a beauty. Her passport picture makes for some erotic dreams.” The chuckles coming out of the phone almost made Dane tell him to fuck off, but he needed to keep his cool. His temper, restrained most of the time, was flying out of control at the mere hint of harm toward his wife, the sexy brunette with pouty lips. When he’d almost permanently altered Simon’s face, he understood the danger of falling so hard for her. She’d be safer on the other side of the world. And everyone else would be, too.
“Does she know who you are?” Greg should never have been informed about Trista’s transformation to Eve, but Dane had needed to obtain new identification for her quickly and the CIA was the fastest way to do so.
“Only that she married a two-timing jackass who left her in Europe.”
“Perfect. I was worried about her involvement with you. She may need to be placed in a witness protection program. She didn’t just kill a foot soldier of Juan Carlos. She gunned down his nephew.”
That changed everything. Despite her insistence on going into dangerous situations, Eve had to remain safe, for his own sanity. Perhaps he could move her to small town in the middle of nowhere to protect her.
“I’ll talk to her and tell her to keep a low profile until we figure out a permanent solution.”
“Keep her hidden for now. In a few months, you can divorce her. Leave a good word for me, I could use a kinky night or two.”
“Step one inch too close to her, and I’ll slit your throat open and FedEx your tonsils to your wife.” His response shocked him as much as it shocked Greg, who merely cleared his throat and remained otherwise silent.
Damn it. More proof Eve wasn’t an asset to his mental well-being.
“This call is not actually about your wife. She’ll be fine as long as she remains underground. We need you to monitor a situation.” Greg finally found his voice. “The Indian government caught wind of the pending army sale of the sniper rifles to the Pakistanis through Jordan. If we go through with the sale, they’ve threatened to buy their next batch of military drones from China and not us, and that will create an alliance we don’t want.”
“And they want Pelican at the meeting?”
“Yes. Meet with the representative from India in Nuuk. They’re not going to be appeased unless a U.S. supplier can promise something big. Pelican has the Lentox navigation system, and China has nothing like it. I’ll try to have the Pentagon assure them we’ll put off the Jordanian deal if they invest in our technology.”
Nuuk, Greenland? Cold and isolated. But away from memories of Eve. “When?”
“In two days.”
After Dane hung up on the prick, he stared out the window at the parking lot. Eve wouldn’t leave his thoughts to allow him to concentrate on work, so he called her to see how she was doing. No answer. He didn’t want to leave a message. He’d only botch it up. Instead, he traced his credit card and learned she’d traveled to New York City and then took a taxi out to Long Island. Damn her. Didn’t she know how to lay low for a few months? No. She’d be back on a battlefield if someone didn’t kick some sense into her. He’d have to fly to La Guardia before continuing to Nuuk to make her understand why she needed to keep a lower profile.
He picked up his phone again and called her. It went straight to her voicemail. His cheerful voice sounded insincere after he’d kicked her in the gut, but he wouldn’t grovel, either. “Hey there, I hope you’re doing well. Just checking up. It looks like I won’t be back in London for a while. I have a few sales I need to finalize. Call me when you get the chance.”
She might run if she knew he was headed her way, so he didn’t mention that he knew her current whereabouts.
He looked on the bright side of a quick stopover in New York. He needed her trust again so he could keep a better eye on her future activities. As long as he could keep her at arm’s length, they could both continue their lives separately. In order to convince her to listen to him, however, he had to mend fences. It wouldn’t be easy. He’d effectively ripped the fence out of the ground, poured acid over the metal, and left the whole mess to rot.
…
The best thing Simon ever did in life was to fall in love with Cassie Watson. Cassie hacked into the CIA’s central mainframe and learned that Eveleen Quinn O’Brien was an alias created by the U.S. go
vernment while she was in Columbia. Real name: Trista Marie Patterson. Occupation: Rehabilitation specialist for children pulled into military situations, whether as soldiers, runners, cooks, or sex slaves.
Simon tried to contact Eve, aka Trista, several times and received no answer. A quick call to the front desk of the hotel and he discovered she’d checked out. He then phoned her uglier half.
Dane picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Mr. Dunn. What can I do for you?”
“Have you contacted Juan Carlos?”
“Yes. He’s pissed off at you, but I can’t see him causing another scene. I offered to fly your team to his compound to wipe out his poppy harvest if he tries to arrange more impromptu meetings with your men. I think he got the point. Anything else?”
“I’m wondering what you’re not telling me about your purported wife Eve?”
The pause was a second too long. The silence of a person that cared. “Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Simon, leave her alone. I’m warning you.” Dane’s pronounced pause followed by his tense reply confirmed Simon’s suspicions.
After the call ended, he went back to the kitchen. Cassie was seated at the table with a cup of tea and one of her many laptops. Her bare feet stretched across another chair and her blue toenails wiggled as she typed. She glanced up at Simon and twisted her body, an enticing action performed to loosen her back muscles. Simon pressed his thumbs into her lower back and rubbed until she relaxed.
“You’re right. Dane is ultra-protective of his wife.” He continued massaging her. “I think he wanted to believe he’d left her safe in London to begin a new life and pine away for him. He’s not thinking that now. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t fly in by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Poor lovesick guy. Good news for us, though. I know where she is.” Her voice danced across the information. She loved her work, and it showed in her miraculous results. “I tracked her through Dane’s credit card. She’s headed to her mother or father’s house in New York. I’m certain of it. They live relatively close to each other, so it won’t take you long to track her down.”
“I’m going to the States?”
“I booked you on a flight tomorrow morning.”
“Why wait? I could be packed in a few minutes.”
She stood and snared one of his hands, leading him out of the kitchen. “Tonight, I need help with my deep breathing exercises.”
“I can definitely assist with that.”
Chapter Nine
There was no place like home, and that was a good thing. It was, however, the only place Eve could think of to hide out. The idea of remaining in London and obsessing over Dane’s abandonment pushed her across the pond to a place where she could plan her future in relative comfort and peace.
With her father and her stepmother Johanna on an extended cruise to God knew where, the woman formerly known as Trista, a person who would not be revealing any identification to her family, moved back to her mother’s house in Lawrence, Long Island. A pretty room overlooking the garden and some interaction with half her family seemed preferable to hiding alone until she could locate a new job. The house would be quiet since Felix had moved to Manhattan with a few friends while he attended NYU Law School. She’d tried to contact him to see if he wanted to meet for lunch, but he was going clubbing that night and the next and wouldn’t be available so early in the afternoon. She’d at least made an effort to see him.
Her mother had welcomed her with a lunch at the Rockaway Hunting Club. Eve had missed her, a woman whose philanthropic efforts with children had pressured her oldest daughter into choosing a humanitarian aid career over the NYPD. Her mother’s biggest flaw, however, was her refusal to make her younger children upset over anything. This resulted in the two most spoiled children on the East Coast. So despite her warm feelings for her mother, she only remained brief periods of time before the need for greener, more tranquil pastures pulled at her.
Her little sister Allegra was home, and still lounged around the huge house day after day as she pursued a modeling career between shopping trips and beauty treatments. Education didn’t suit Allegra, as she’d often told her older sister. Intelligence didn’t suit her, either.
Her sister acted put upon to have Eve back home. Allegra wanted her out of the house so she could pretend to be an only child. Conversations with her had often devolved into adolescent spats, no matter how hard Eve had tried to remain above the fray.
After mocking Eve’s new haircut, Allegra poured herself a glass of water for lunch and sat at the kitchen island. “You’ve gained weight. You should try a carb free diet.”
“I prefer this leftover lasagna. Mmm. You should try food sometime. It’s good.”
“Mock me, tent dweller. I’ve been in Vogue, Cosmo, and the JC Penney catalog. And when you meet Bradley, we’ll see who needs to change her eating habits.”
“Bradley? Is he your dietician?”
“He just happens to be the son of the CEO of Green Heights Corporation.”
“Green Heights Corporation? Never heard of it.”
“Only the biggest provider of green office supplies in the area. He’s looking for a wife to help him take over the family empire and thinks my pursuit of a modeling career is fantastic.”
“And he’s emaciated, too?” she volleyed back. When in the right mood, she actually enjoyed taking apart her sister in an argument.
“He’s perfect. Blond hair, blue eyes. More man than you’ll ever find.”
“And you’ll be married at what? Twenty?”
“Better than being ugly and alone at thirty, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know. I have too many men in my life right now, and I’m craving a little alone time.”
“Right. Some poor Mexican guys from one of the villages you work at? Eating tacos and drinking sangrias. What a charming life.” She tossed her hair back and managed an impressive eye roll as well, looking every bit the spoiled brat.
“First, I’ve never lived in Mexico. And second, do you hear how idiotic and intolerant you sound? You should sue for a refund on your high school diploma.”
“And yet, you are alone and I have Bradley.”
“The whole white picket fence thing doesn’t do it for me. I’ll live vicariously through you.” Perhaps her sister’s current relationship would do better than the last few she’d managed to destroy. Maybe a husband was exactly what she needed.
Eve grabbed her coat and took a walk. She didn’t want to meet Allegra’s Mr. Perfect just yet. Her skinny sister would gloat over his adoration non-stop in front of her. If Eve were the vengeful type, she could thrust a picture of her gorgeous husband Dane in her sister’s face. But he wasn’t Trista’s husband, he was Eve’s husband. And her family wouldn’t understand her name change. Besides, he’d left her. Despite the brisk wind and her fast pace, the sting of his rejection remained deep inside of her.
She strolled through the muted winter colors of her mother’s prize rose garden, clipped back and ready for spring to arrive. Eventually she’d have to contact him to take back her real name. Every important document of Trista’s had remained in Columbia, and she couldn’t explain to Homeland Security how she’d arrived back in the States without proper documentation, because she still didn’t trust that Dane had obtained them legally. So she was left in limbo until she had the guts to contact him.
Dinner, three hours later, consisted of braised beef and a red wine mushroom sauce enjoyed with her mother, her stepfather Scott, Allegra, and Bradley the Perfect. He’d arrived with a dozen red roses for Mom and then pulled out a single red rose for Allegra before asking Scott for her hand in marriage. Lots of squeals and a few large glasses of Merlot later and the wedding plans were being made. The next step in Allegra’s shallow life.
“A toast to the happy couple.” Her mother stood and raised her glass toward Allegra and Bradley. “May you find the happiness and joy I’ve found with Scott.”
Allegra’s eye
s glittered as much as the three carat diamond on her finger. “This will be the wedding of the year. September at the yacht club. And then Antigua. That’s the place to honeymoon. I doubt you’d appreciate a vacation in a resort, Trista. Maybe you could pitch a tent on the beach.”
Bradley sipped his wine and nodded at everything Allegra said, whether it made sense or not. His lean frame and gelled up hair made him look like a Ken doll. All plastic, zero substance.
“Bradley,” Eve said, “Allegra’s told me you work at your family company. What do you do there?”
He leaned back in his chair. The wineglass rolled back and forth between his fingers and thumb. “I’m in charge of public relations. My brother Dex handles the more mundane business operation side of things.”
Allegra positively beamed at his comment, although it was doubtful whether she’d ever heard the word “mundane” before in a proper sentence. “Bradley graduated from Hofstra with a marketing degree. He was the top in his major.”
“When did you graduate?” Eve asked.
He looked as though he hadn’t finished puberty yet. “Last year. It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“I’ll bet.” Eve would have to skip dessert in order to stop herself from using her fork to pierce the image of these two lovebirds from her vision.
A knock at the door gave her an excuse to leave, but Allegra jumped up before her, most likely to brag about her engagement to some random stranger. Bradley watched her ass shimmy away from the room. Classy guy.
Allegra bounced back within a minute. “Trista, you have a visitor. Do you owe anyone money?” She tittered and rolled her eyes toward Bradley, who threw her a kiss.
Her mother sat up straighter. She’d always wanted her oldest daughter to settle down and start a family. Life on Long Island, or in any suburban community, however, didn’t interest her. The problems of children in this area of the world didn’t compare with her kids from war-torn regions. And a suburban lifestyle didn’t make her excited to jump out of bed in the morning. She preferred excitement and new challenges.
True Peril Page 9
