by Ana Leigh
“A complete truce between us. No more tantrums or going off on your own. You have to promise to do everything I tell you to do.”
“I promise, Mike.”
“Well, I’ve got some calls to make before I can agree.”
As soon as they got back to the hotel, Mike put in calls to the guys in the squad. He was able to reach all of them by the time he took Ann to dinner that evening.
“Okay, this is the deal,” he told her. “I called in the squad. They’re off duty, but doing this as a personal favor to me. For the next week you’ll be guarded 24/7. Got that?”
“You mean even at night?” she groaned.
“It’s all or nothing at all, Ann. Decide now, because that’s the only way I’ll agree to this. I figure within the week you’ll get custody of Brandon. I talked to Rick Williams and Pete Bledsoe. They’ll take Brandon back to the States when the time comes, and that will save you the trouble of coming back here. If we do this, you’ve got to promise to abide by the rules.”
“I promise, Mike.” Those violet eyes were misting with tears.
“Okay, we’ll go back tomorrow.” He tried to steel himself against the draw of those eyes. “You want to take in a movie?”
“If you want to, Mike.”
Right answer.
Chapter 14
Dave Cassidy, Kurt Bolen and Don Fraser met them at the airport when they landed.
“So where do we stand?” Mike asked, after an exchange of greetings and handshakes.
“My sister and brother-in-law are letting us use their condo,” Dave said. “They’ll be out of the country for the next month.”
“Good.”
“Where are Bledsoe and Williams?” Cassidy asked.
“I contacted them and told them to stay in England until Ann gets official custody of the kid and then brings him back. Let’s go to that apartment and get settled in. Then we’ll work out a schedule.”
The apartment was on the thirty-fourth floor of an exclusive high-rise hotel in Manhattan. Each condo unit took up an entire floor, and only a programmed floor key card could stop the elevator on the requested floor.
As they looked around in awe at the elegant apartment with its ten-foot-high ceilings, marble columns and crystal chandeliers, Kurt Bolen whistled softly, “Cassidy, what in hell does your brother-in-law do for a living?”
“He’s a Frenchman. Owns some kind of financial consulting firm,” Dave said.
“And a drug cartel on the side to afford all this,” Don Fraser added.
“Naw, you know my sister’s Kim Barrington.”
“The movie actress?” Ann asked.
Cassidy nodded. “Have you seen any of the movies she’s in?”
“Who hasn’t?” Mike said. “We watched one on the plane coming back.”
“Too bad she got all the looks in the family, Cassidy,” Bolen said, moving in to inspect more of the apartment.
“Maybe we should take our shoes off so we don’t dirty that white carpet,” Fraser said.
“Yeah, and we need a map to figure out the traffic pattern in here,” Bolen grumbled. “With all these mirrored doors and walls, a person could get lost.”
“Then I suggest we all learn it fast, starting now,” Mike said.
A few minutes later, after checking out the apartment, they all sat down at the kitchen table.
“Okay, here’s how I see it,” Mike said. “There are twelve rooms and five bathrooms. That’s a lot of rooms to cover. But the good news is that we don’t have to worry about windows, and the main door and a kitchen door are the only access in or out of the apartment.
“Now, there are only two ways on or off this floor—the elevator or the locked door to the stairway. Since a key card programmed for this floor only is needed to open either one, we’ll post a man in the hall lounge right outside the main door here, giving him a full view of the elevator, stairway and the two doors. Do you all read me?”
When they nodded, Mike continued. “All right, there are four bedrooms—a master, two guests and one off the kitchen, probably intended for a servant. Apparently, there is no live-in servant since there are no personal effects in that room. We’ll close and lock up the master bedroom—that’s out of bounds for all of us. Ann takes one of the guest bedrooms and that leaves two for us.
“wo men will work twelve-hour shifts, eight to eight, with a man in the hall lounge and one inside here. That puts two of us awake at all times. Fraser and Bolen take the first watch at 20 hundred. At O200 switch posts. Then tomorrow morning at 0800 Cassidy and I will relieve you. Any questions?”
“I have one,” Ann said. “There is no standard time when I have to do a shoot. It can be morning, afternoon or evening. What does that do to your schedule?”
“The schedule is to indicate who’s officially on watch at a given time. When you’re out of this apartment, Ann, at least the two awake men on watch will be covering you for sure, and most likely more of us. I’ve never seen one of these guys sleep for twelve straight hours.
“Frankly, I’d prefer to keep you confined to this apartment, so whenever possible, try to keep our schedules in mind. It will make it easier on all of us for the next week.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to all of you,” Ann said. “I know you guys are giving up your free time to do this, and I wish I knew a way of making it up to you.”
“Just do as we ask, Ann. It’ll make it easier on all of us.”
She looked at Mike. He could separate business and pleasure so easily. Last night they had shared a pleasant dinner together and then went to a movie as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Today it was all business again, and he was in charge.
Well, he seemed to know what he was doing, and she had promised him to cooperate to get him to agree to this, so she wasn’t going to give him any arguments.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get settled in. Which bedroom do you want me to take?”
“One of the bathrooms has a bathtub and shower stall. The other two have only showers. I figure you might like a tub.”
“You’re right about that. I love hot baths,” she said.
“Then it’s yours.” He pointed to one of the archways opening off the mammoth living room. “Through there and it’s the second door on the right.”
How does he remember all these details? she pondered in awe as she followed his directions to the designated room.
Ann sank down on the edge of the bed. Yesterday she was in London. Today she was here in New York in the luxury apartment of total strangers. What happened to her life? She sighed deeply and looked around her. The ivory and pale-yellow bedroom had a serene ambiance that was like a soothing balm to her frayed nerves—nerves that had been stretched almost to snapping with the alarming events and setbacks of the past week.
Wearily Ann got up, and after unpacking she drew a hot bath. Lowering herself into the mammoth tub, she leaned her head back against the rim and closed her eyes. Streams of warm water from jet sprays washed over her tired body with the effectiveness of a relaxing sedative. For some inexplicable reason—perhaps from the jet sprays, perhaps the effects of the room’s serenity, or perhaps mere exhaustion from the treadmill she’d been on lately—she began to feel lethargic and her mind flooded with an inner peace. Somehow, no matter how grim everything seemed at the moment, she sensed it would all work out in the en. Maybe the world wasn’t so bad after all. Like Browning said, “God’s in His Heaven…” And Mike Bishop’s in charge down here.
After a phone call to Brandon, which diminished some of the upbeat attitude she’d achieved, Ann and her four-man escort went grocery shopping. It became an experience she’d never forget. The different types of food the fellows picked out to eat were as diversified as their personalities. It appeared that beer, pretzels and coffee were the only unanimous choices among the four of them.
Dave Cassidy broiled steaks for the evening meal, Mike made French-fried potatoes and Ann tossed a green salad
. The fellows drank beer with their dinner, and she drank iced tea. She gave half of her steak to Mike and as much as she enjoyed the banter of the guys, she couldn’t shake off the effects of her conversation with Brandon.
At eight o’clock when Don went out into the hall to start his watch, Ann turned down an invitation to watch the latest Kim Barrington film on DVD and retired to her room.
She called Barney on Mike’s cell phone and arranged to meet him for lunch the following day. Then, after paging through several magazines she’d found in the den, she finally turned off the light and tried to sleep. But to no avail. She had a heavy heart. She missed Brandon and he’d sounded so sad and desolate on the telephone that it preyed on her.
Somewhere in the apartment a clock chimed one o’clock and she got out of bed, pulled on her robe, and opened the bedroom door. Peering out, the hallway was dark. Moonlight gleaming through floor to ceiling windows cast silver rays across the marbled floor of the living room. The faint drone of the television in the den was a comforting sound in this unfamiliar apartment. Should she go in and join Don Fraser, or was it Kurt Bolen now?
No doubt at this late hour the other two men would be asleep. She couldn’t help but wonder which bedroom Mike was in. But what difference did it make, anyway.
A light breeze carrying the sweet fragrance of roses drew her to the open doors of the terrace. She stepped outside and moved to the bricked railing. The view was breathtaking. Ann closed her eyes and lifted her face to catch the breeze as it feathered her hair.
“Can’t you sleep?”
Startled she turned. Mike Bishop rose from a chair in a darkened corner.
“I could ask you the same thing. I thought this was your sleeping time.”
“I was just considering going to bed.” He moved closer, narrowing the gap that separated them, then leaned back against the wall.
“What a view,” she murmured. “I bet you could reach up and pluck a star out of the sky.”
“It would be easier to just pick one out of your eyes,” he said.
The sensual huskiness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her heartbeat quickened, and she turned her head and gazed out at the New York skyline to avoid looking into those wounded-deer hazel eyes of his. She could feel his stare fixed on her face.
She was scared of him. Scared of the effect he had on her. She reacted to his nearness like a teenage groupie to a rock s
Like now. Her legs were trembling, her heart pounding, and she wanted him to kiss her. Recalling the excitement of the kiss he gave her in D.C., she yearned for him to kiss her again—now, like two lovers, with a starry sky twinkling overhead and the scent of roses permeating the air.
Romantic? Yes! She needed some romance in her life. Hearts and flowers. Dancing in the dark. Stolen kisses. Tender words of love.
It had been a long time since she’d thought about being in love—or having a man make love to her. She thought in this case it must be the latter. Yet, somehow it was hard to conjure up the image of Mike Bishop being romantic. While on the other hand if it came to hot sex—his was the only image she could visualize.
“So what’s on your mind, Ann?”
She felt the heat of the blush that coursed through her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. With his powers of observation she’d crumble before him. If only he’d stop staring at her!
“Why can’t you sleep? You’re safe. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“It’s not that, Mike. It’s Brandon. He wants me to come back to London.”
“Did Leonard have any luck reaching Burroughs’s lawyer?”
“No.”
“I never should have left London, Mike. Another week one way or the other wouldn’t make that much difference. Because I came back today, Barney wants me to start right away. I had hopes of finding a nice little house for Brandon and me first.”
“If I were you, I’d forget both things, and after my squad leaves remain under protective care until this whole mess is resolved.”
She finally turned her head and looked him in the eyes. “You didn’t have much of a vacation, did you? And it’s entirely my fault. I’ve spoiled it for the other guys, too, but at least they had a little time to… I mean a chance to…probably get together with their girlfriends or… I mean you were stuck with me the whole time.” Her mind was back on sex again and she was rambling like a flustered virgin.
Mike chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, Hamilton, I’d swear you were hitting on me.”
“Hitting on you!” She must have turned six shades of red. “I’m sorry, it probably does sound like that, but that’s not what I meant. We both agreed not to mix business and pleasure. To keep it strictly business between us.” She moved away quickly. “Well, I guess I’ll make another attempt at sleeping. Good night, Mike.”
“Ann.” She stopped and turned around. “Yeah, that was our agreement. But I’ll warn you now, lady, when this business is cleared up, I’ll be coming after you.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve got a lot of lost pleasure time to make up.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourseDo you actually think I’m stupid enough to get involved with a guy who lives on the edge like you do?”
“I think it’s out of both of our hands. Right now I want to pick you up and carry you to bed. Are you really going to deny you don’t want me to? No, sweetheart, it won’t fly. Those violet eyes tell me all I have to know. I figure it’s going to be worth the wait.”
“I’m not denying the idea momentarily crossed my mind. Moonlight can put a lot of crazy ideas in a woman’s head, but in the bright light of day, she faces reality. I want a husband who comes home to Brandon and me each night and not one who’s in some godforsaken place on some kind of covert mission.”
“I don’t remember whistling the ‘Wedding March,’ lady. I’m talking about a week in bed of nothing but hot sex.”
“Won’t happen, Bishop. You don’t have a brain or you wouldn’t be doing what you do for a living. Me, I have to put mine to a better use.”
“Pity,” he said. Even with the distance between them she didn’t have to see his face clearly to know he was smirking.
“What?”
“How afraid you are of a man.”
The arrogance of the man was maddening. “You know, Mike, I’m grateful to you. A few minutes ago, mesmerized by a romantic moment, the idea of going to bed with you was very tempting. Thank you for reminding me of the danger in substituting moonlight for the real light of day.”
Chapter 15
Mike slept until seven and then got up and showered. Last night he’d gone to bed and lain thinking about Ann until jet lag kicked in. When he went into the kitchen Ann and Don Fraser were sitting at the breakfast table. Dave Cassidy joined them a few minutes later, since he was due to take the hall watch at eight.
As soon as Cassidy relieved Kurt Bolen, he came in and joined them. For the next hour they sat around talking and relaxing.
The men in the squad got along well with each other. There were no ego or personality clashes between them. No vying for authority. Mike was their undisputed leader. They accepted his judgment without a word of contradiction. Mike figured it was because each one was a specialist in a particular field, and knew he’d never doubt their individual ability when it was called for.
Since he’d forbidden anyone to use the telephones in the apartment, Ann borrowed his cell phone to call Brandon. Her eyes were misting when she hung up.
“How’s the kid doing?” Mike asked.
“He’s so sad. It breaks my heart to hear him. If only someone could locate Charles Breton.”
“I’ll see if the Agency’s had any luck,” Mike said, reaching for his cell phone.
“Where the hell are you, Bishop?” Avery Waterman ranted as soon as he picked up the p. “You working for us or moonlighting? The hotel in London said you checked out yesterday, and I’ve t
ried to reach you a dozen times on your cell phone. I either get a busy signal or you don’t answer. Don’t you check your messages?”
“I had to charge the battery. It’s working now.”
“You are expected to check in daily.”
“I’m supposed to be on leave, too? And you’re supposed to be in Intelligence. You could have called the British State Department. Miss Hamilton informed them of her intentions. So chill out,” Mike said.
Despite the irritation in Waterman’s voice, Mike visualized his superior sitting behind his desk without a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his suit jacket. “We’re in New York.”
“New York!”
“Yeah. Miss Hamilton got her photography job back, and she’ll be working here.”
“Is the Burroughs lad with her?”
“No. He’s still in London. Did you check out Charles Breton?”
“He’s squeaky clean.”
“That alone is suspicious. Have you ever met a lawyer who’s squeaky clean? Any progress in locating Breton?”
“The chap appears to have disappeared into thin air. There’s been no word from him since he left Kourou on the same day as Burroughs was murdered.”
“Well, his secretary must have an idea where he was headed.”
“She claims not. Breton said he’d contact her every other day. He hasn’t done it. There have been no sightings of his boat since he left the harbor. We’ve alerted several coast guards, but they haven’t seen him either.”
“Could be he’s the one who whacked Burroughs, or met the same fate as Burroughs did.”
“That’s possible, or his radio could be out of order. We’ll keep following through on this end.”
“Hamilton clearly needs protection. Someone’s going to have to take over here when I leave. Who have you got working on this case? There’s sure been enough time to come up with something.”
“They’re experienced agents and know their job.”
“Well obviously whoever’s behind the murder believes that Hamilton knows something. I’ve been with her practically nonstop since the rescue. If she knows anything, she sure has me fooled.”
