Rafferty's Wife
Page 15
Smiling, she said, “I’m not trying to paint him all white, you know. I just don’t think he’s a monster anymore.”
“You were smiling at him that last day,” Rafferty remembered. “As if you finally understood him, and weren’t worried about it anymore.”
“That’s about the way it was.”
“I wanted to deck him.”
Surprised, she said, “It didn’t show.”
“I’m a great poker player.”
“Darling, you know—”
“Oh, lord,” he muttered, bending his head to capture her lips. And when he carried her into their bedroom, it was caveman style, over one shoulder.
“You said that deliberately,” Rafferty decided sometime later in a drained voice.
Sarah raised herself on an elbow to smile down at him, mischief sparkling in her sea-green eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You did. I was well on my way to developing an inferiority complex regarding Sereno, and you set out to cure me of it. And very nicely, too.”
“Well,” she said innocently, “when a woman knows which button to push, it’s a little hard to resist pushing.”
He opened one eye and stared at her. “Yeah.”
She giggled. “You remember when we were celebrating on the Corsair? I almost said it then.”
“I know you did. That’s why I kissed you and then managed to get you to our cabin so fast.” He sighed. “I can just see what’s going to happen. Every time we have a fight, you’ll look at me with those lovely eyes and call me darling, and I’ll forget my name.”
“I could call you at the office—”
“Don’t you dare! At least, don’t call me darling over the phone. I’d kill myself getting home to you.”
“Or show up in court—”
“I won’t tell you when I’m going to be in court. Besides, I don’t have to be there often these days.”
“Boardrooms instead?”
He looked at her warily.
Sarah giggled. “I won’t, I promise. Besides, if you push a button too often, it’ll wear out. I wouldn’t want that, now would I?”
Rafferty pulled her over on top of him, smiling. “I hope not.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And I wonder if you have a button.”
“Of course not,” she denied stoutly.
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
After a few moments, she added breathlessly, “Well, not a verbal one, at any rate.”
Rafferty smiled.
EPILOGUE
“YOU’VE LOST ANOTHER agent,” Kelsey said cheerfully. “A field agent, that is. You won’t be able to get Sarah out of an office again. And since Rafferty has your number now, boss, you sure as hell won’t be able to con him again.”
“Most unfortunate.” Hagen frowned at the clear blue water of the Caribbean, his mind, as always, refusing to allow him to relax and enjoy the vacation. “I would have said such an eventuality was highly improbable given the information—”
“The lies,” Kelsey translated dryly, “you told them.”
He was splendidly ignored.
“It appears I underestimated Rafferty Lewis’s intuitive abilities,” Hagen decided. “He discovered far sooner than anticipated that I had—misled him about Miss Cavell’s past.”
“Tragic past,” Kelsey reminded politely, thoroughly enjoying his boss’s unusual lapse from godlike omniscience.
Again, he was ignored.
“The human element.” Hagen muttered the phrase several times, clearly searching for a way around this annoying stumbling block in the path of his greatness.
Kelsey leaned his head back, taking advantage of the warm sunlight. “Let me know,” he advised, “when you find a way around that one.”
Long moments passed, and then Hagen said dreamily, “My boy, there is nothing that cannot be surmounted with enough forethought and planning.”
Kelsey turned his head and opened one eye to peer at his boss. “Uh-huh. Who’s next?”
“Zachary Steele.”