by Debra Webb
“You set me up.”
Outwardly unfazed by her accusation, Hamilton merely shook his head. “I tried to protect you, Vanessa. I gave you a way out and you refused to stay dead.”
“You—”
The rest of her words died in her throat when her keeper’s fingers dived into her hair and snapped her head back. “That’s enough,” he growled.
Hamilton shifted his attention to Landry. “As for you, Landry, you and your former superior should have stayed out of our business. I’d intended to take care of the three of you together, but, unfortunately, he wouldn’t wait. I’m certain his body will never be found.”
Olivia watched Landry from the edge of her vision; turning her head was impossible. He and Andrew Page had been close. Though he kept his emotions masked behind that cool, calm exterior, she knew he was ready to take Hamilton apart.
Talk about a sucky ending.
“I guarantee yours will be found,” Landry returned, the threat delivered so softly but with such lethal precision that even Hamilton flinched.
“Enough chitchat.” Hamilton turned his attention to the lead gorilla. “Kill them.”
“Wait!” Echols barged into Hamilton’s personal space. “You’re not going to kill them here, are you?”
Hamilton narrowed his gaze at the younger man. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You ordered me to eliminate anyone who had knowledge of the Al Hadi mission. Isn’t that right?”
Olivia tensed. Hamilton’s urging her to trust him…no matter what happened, nudged at her instincts.
Echols rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth as if somehow the move would prompt the proper response. “Well, yes, but not here.” He scanned the deserted park, with its encroaching forest and expansive lake. “Anyone could be hiding in those trees. We don’t need any witnesses that can connect the two of us to this.” He glanced in Olivia’s direction but quickly looked away. “Where’s your discretion, man? The president can’t afford this kind of scandal. The coming alliance is far too important. We can’t allow any risks. The elimination of two…” His voice faltered as he glanced at Olivia and Landry. “Some sacrifice is necessary, as you well know.”
Hamilton nodded. “Of course. However, I would have felt more confident had I received these orders directly from the president.”
Echols’s expression grew more flustered. “You know how busy he is, Hamilton. He has no time for these trivial matters. That’s why he has you and me. He doesn’t need to be involved.”
Olivia didn’t know about Landry but she was damn tired of being considered a mere sacrifice.
All she needed was one split second. A single opportunity facilitated by distraction.
If fate wasn’t going to hand her one, she’d just have to make her own.
Her guard still had his fingers coiled tightly in her hair. Still had her pulled firmly against his body, the muzzle of his weapon jammed into her rib cage.
Might as well make the best of it.
She eased slightly to the left, aligned her butt better with his aroused lower anatomy. Either the guy got off on causing pain or her plan had worked to this point. Careful not to make any sudden moves, she pressed her bottom more firmly into him. His fingers tightened in her hair but he made no move to push her away. If anything, he grew harder.
“If the president wants these two dead,” Hamilton was saying, “let’s get it done. I have other business to attend to this morning.”
Olivia heard parts of the conversation but mostly she was focused on how she could make this guy’s horniness work for her.
If she moved abruptly he’d surely shoot.
The gun was poking her rib cage on the left. Twisting right would work but she might not be able to move quickly enough. Did she have another alternative?
Landry beat her to the punch.
He and the guy holding him at gunpoint were suddenly on the ground.
Olivia’s keeper shifted slightly to see what was going on with his pal. The pressure from his weapon eased a fraction.
Olivia twisted to the right. Hurled herself around behind him, ignoring his grip in her hair. She reached between his legs and grabbed his scrotum with her left hand and the knife with her right.
His weapon discharged.
The bullet whizzed right past her forehead, which was sort of wrenched down to his side.
He howled as she squeezed harder.
His weapon discharged again and hit the ground.
Another shot echoed from somewhere but she couldn’t see the source.
She shoved her keeper forward, sending him off balance and to the ground. She scrambled for his weapon but didn’t make it.
The third man, the one who’d appeared to be in charge, was suddenly on top of her. He held her against the ground with one hand and aimed the weapon at her head with the other.
Fuck him. She wasn’t dying without taking him with her. Careful not to take her eyes off his, she moved her right hand into the best position she could for driving the knife into whatever part of him she could reach.
A heavy foot came down on her hand, pinning her weapon to the ground.
“Let her up,” Hamilton ordered.
Olivia’s gaze jerked up to his.
“Yes, sir,” the gorilla relented.
The pressure on her throat ceased. The guy on top of her got up and backed away.
“Leave the knife on the ground, Vanessa, and get on your feet.”
Her fingers unclenched, allowing the knife to drop to the ground. He kicked it aside then offered his hand.
She knocked it away and got up under her own steam.
Apparently several things had happened while she was rolling around on the ground.
Landry was on his feet, looking no worse for wear. His former keeper had a busted lip and a swelling eye. The man she’d given a good squeeze was over in the treeline puking his guts out.
It was the newcomer to the party that confused her. At first she didn’t recognize him. Then he spoke. She could have identified that British accent anywhere. Andrew Page. He was far more handsome than his picture.
But wasn’t he supposed to be dead?
“Excellent job, Hamilton,” Page commented with a smile, the weapon he brandished aimed directly at the head of Paul Echols who was, by the way, currently on his knees pleading for his life. What the hell was going on?
Landry looked from Page to Hamilton and back. “Does anyone care to let us in on the joke?”
Landry’s own accent reared its charming head when in the company of a fellow Brit, it seemed. Olivia felt a little quiver ripple through her muscles.
Echols’s pleas grew louder.
She still didn’t get this.
Hamilton frowned. “Would someone please gag that fool until he’s taken away?”
The only one of the three guys who hadn’t been injured jumped to obey. He yanked off his tie and silenced Echols. Olivia decided that there was something to be said for dressing up for the occasion.
When Echols had been restricted to a muffled moaning, Hamilton went on, “I apologize for the inconvenience this operation has caused the two of you. Andrew assures me that neither of you was in actual danger.”
Olivia clamped her fingers into balls at her sides and hoped like hell she’d be able to resist slugging one or both men. Not in danger? She thought about the raid at the hotel and what had just happened…they could have been killed!
“Which is more than I can say,” he went on, “for the men I had assigned to track your movements and bring you in.” He cut a look at Olivia when he said this.
Okay, so she’d shot a couple of guys. She thought they were trying to kill them. Anyone here would have done the same thing.
“So sue me,” she tossed at Hamilton. “You should have let us in on whatever the hell was going on. By the way, what the hell is going on?”
“According to Andrew, this operation had to appear real,” Hamilton explained. “I wasn’t even inform
ed until twenty-four hours ago. Apparently the powers that be at Interpol as well as my own agency were convinced that if Echols was to be cornered, everyone involved had to believe this was the real thing.”
Olivia glared at the blithering idiot on the ground who’d begun to cry since he could no longer plead for mercy.
“Why don’t we start at the beginning,” Landry suggested as he dusted off his clothes.
“Good idea,” Olivia chimed in.
The guy who’d been puking had regained his composure and returned to the group. He shot Olivia a nasty look, to which she responded with a wink. This did not appear to make him happy. He and his cohort, the one with the busted lip and rapidly swelling eye, loaded Echols into the limo and climbed in to keep him company.
Page came over to pat his colleague on the back and offer platitudes while Hamilton appeared to gather his thoughts. Or maybe he was trying to figure out a graceful way to say what had to be said.
“Our friend Echols,” Hamilton said, resuming his explanation, “took it upon himself three years ago to clear a way for the former White House administration to do business with Al Hadi. Echols made this his personal mission. He wanted to ensure his advancement. But Al Hadi backed out on the bargain. He refused to submit to the numerous compromises in Echols’s proposed deal. Echols was infuriated and embarrassed. He decided the only way to save face was to doctor information he provided to the president, causing the former president to agree to an off-the-record elimination of brewing trouble.”
“My final mission.” Olivia filled in the blank.
Hamilton nodded. “Yes. Echols knew that all hell would break out in political and media circles, so he hatched a plan beforehand on how to deal with that. He would wait until it was too late to call you back in to tell me that the president had changed his mind. When you, of course, carried out your mission, he threatened to blame the Agency. To blame you.”
Landry came over to stand beside her. “So you gave her a way out.”
“I couldn’t let her take the fall for someone else’s mistake.”
Hamilton looked tired and old. Olivia realized then what a toll the past three years had taken on him, as well.
“Foolishly I shared my plan with Echols. There was no reason for me to believe that he wasn’t on our side. I was under the impression that the president was the one who’d caused this travesty. That mistake came back to haunt me recently when the talk of an alliance, with Echols at the helm, got under way.”
Olivia understood. “Echols didn’t want to take any chances on one of us coming forward with the truth about what happened.”
“Precisely,” Page confirmed. “I wanted to tell you the truth,” he said to Landry. “But I couldn’t risk that the truth would soften your reactions. We needed Echols to believe this was real in order to prompt his confession, otherwise we would have been back at square one. I had to leave you, as well as Hamilton and Woods, guessing.”
An epiphany struck. “That clears me.” The concept astounded her, shook her.
Hamilton smiled, one of those fatherly gestures. “That’s correct. I’m prepared to fully reinstate you, Vanessa, if you’re interested in working for the Agency again. Director Woods will be one hundred percent behind me.”
Page raised his eyebrows and sent Hamilton a knowing look. “I would say that full back pay is in order.”
“Absolutely,” Hamilton agreed.
Olivia couldn’t think. She felt overwhelmed.
The adrenaline had deserted her and she suddenly felt every minute of the insanity she’d been through in the past four days.
“Take some time,” Hamilton said to her when she failed to give him a ready answer to his offer. “Think about my offer, Vanessa. The Agency could use a woman with your skills.”
A number of realizations settled over her just then. Her life was in L.A. now. No question. As nice as it was to know the offer stood, she wasn’t interested. “No, thanks, Hamilton. I’m going back to L.A.” Saying it out loud felt damn good. “Vanessa Clark is dead. She should stay that way.”
He acknowledged her decision with a nod. “Very well, then. I’ll see that you get home.”
Home. Yep. She was ready to go home.
She told herself not to make the first move, but somehow, after all she’d been through, she couldn’t help herself. Her chest felt tight with the need to know what happened next…for them.
Turning her attention to Landry, she asked the question that burned all the way to the very depths of her soul. “Where do you go from here?”
He took a big breath, let it out. “That depends.”
Her heart jolted, sent anticipation soaring through her. Could that mean…? Did she want it to mean his decision depended on her? When she would have asked on what, Page stepped in. “I’ll need him back in London for a few days.” He clapped Landry on the back. “We have things to talk about.”
That certainly answered that question. Her heart dropped into her shoes, taking her ability to continue to stand and pretend it didn’t matter away in one fell swoop.
Olivia stuck out her hand. “Goodbye, Landry.”
He looked startled, which shocked her, but she refused to read anything into it. She was finished trying to read between the lines of the men in her life, past, present or future. She had to get out of here before she embarrassed herself.
He folded his big hand around hers, sending a charge up her arm. “Goodbye, Nessa.”
“Olivia,” she corrected, determined to make a show of strength.
“Olivia,” he acquiesced.
She pulled her hand free of his since he didn’t readily let go and turned back to Hamilton. “Get me to L.A., Hamilton. I’ve had enough of this coast.” And there was Jeffrey. She’d have to see that he got home, as well.
They moved toward the Mercedes belonging to Echols. The limo had already departed with its prisoner and his guards.
Page had ushered Landry to his car. He kept one eye on Olivia until she got into the Mercedes. She knew this because she’d kept an eye on him, as well.
The door closed behind her and the reality that whatever they’d resurrected during this unexpected mission wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
It was over.
All of it.
No point in looking back.
But she did. She couldn’t help herself.
She watched the Jag carrying Landry disappear in the other direction as Hamilton pointed the Mercedes toward the city.
No way would she grieve losing Landry again.
She’d done that once.
Besides, she should be happy. The past was really behind her now. She didn’t have to fear being recognized. No more evacuation plans were necessary. Her life would finally be normal.
It just wouldn’t include the man she loved. But then that had never been the plan…until she’d foolishly let herself hope…again.
Chapter 16
Olivia was dictating notes on her final patient for the day when she heard someone come into the reception area of her West Hollywood office.
She turned off the tape recorder and got up to greet the unexpected visitor. There were no more appointments on her calendar. New patients generally called before showing up at her door.
Jeffrey, sans his usual white lab coat, smiled as she stepped into the room. “I was just leaving your key. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He placed the key to her house on the table between the two chairs that flanked her front window.
“Thanks. I appreciate your dropping it by.”
She’d only been back a week. She’d told Jeffrey not to hurry about moving out but he’d wanted to put this behind him, she supposed. He’d moved the last of his things from her place yesterday.
“You look well.”
She was back to being Dr. Olivia Mills. Her hair was arranged in her preferred French twist. The skirt and blouse were classic, as were the stilettos. Her patients paid well for her services. They
expected a certain level of elegance in both her office and her attire. New curtains and a fresh paint job were next.
“So do you.” That sounded entirely lame, but she had to admit that Jeffrey looked good.
“Excellent.” He gestured to the door. “I should go.”
Olivia couldn’t do this, just stand there and pretend they hadn’t shared so much. She walked straight up to him and hugged him fiercely.
He hugged her back.
Eventually she saw him out the door and watched him drive away. They would run into each other from time to time. Despite its size, L.A. and its many communities could be a small world at times. People generally operated in their comfort zones. She’d see Jeffrey at the market or in one of their favored shopping areas. They would both smile and say hello. He would move on, find someone new and maybe get married and have children.
She, on the other hand, could do none of the above.
Her heart was not available.
After turning the sign to Closed and locking the door, she wandered back to her office and finished dictating her notes.
It wasn’t the end of the world.
She had her work.
She had her freedom.
Anything else was icing on the cake.
When she’d finished for the day, she grabbed her handbag and left by the side exit. She drew up short when her gaze landed on Landry leaning against her Audi.
“I would have been here sooner but Andrew insisted on formal ceremonies.”
She ordered her heart to stop its fluttering. “Ceremonies?”
He moved one broad shoulder up and down carelessly. “In some circles I’m actually considered a hero. Apparently when I abruptly resigned two years ago, I had several medals coming to me.”
She tried so hard not to conduct a visual inventory. She didn’t want him to pick up on how thrilled she was to see him.
Her efforts failed. Her gaze took in every detail, from his handsome face to his booted feet. The well-fitting jeans and snug Henley shirt emphasized every sexy feature.
