by Dana Marton
And then she left.
Ian went into work, trying not to think about what his mother said, because then he might have to admit that she was right, and he wasn’t ready for that.
He filed his reports, ran a search on Marcos Morais, and found out which diamond mine he had provided security for last. Then he packed up the diamond-sugar mix, put in a letter explaining Marcos Morais’s theft and connection to Goat Man and Goat Man’s description, and sent it via courier with door-to-door delivery to the guy who owned the mine.
The mine owner would have all the resources in Brazil and wouldn’t rest while Marcos and his accomplice were still in one piece. Not as satisfying as Ian taking Marcos out, but not as dangerous either.
When he was done, he walked into Karin Kovacs’s office. “Any new cases coming in?”
The boss looked up from her computer. She had a sunburn on her nose. Maybe she’d been on a vacation. “I’m deciding on assignments right now.”
Ian thought about his empty apartment. “I’d like something far away. Something that’ll take a while.”
She watched him. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”
About as much as he wanted to sit in a tub filled with piranhas. “I just want to work.”
She considered him for a couple of seconds. “An American businessman disappeared in Russia. Could be mob related. The Russians don’t really want us there but agreed as part of some kind of diplomatic exchange. The bureaucracy over there will be enough to make you tear out your hair. They’ll do whatever they can to stonewall you. Are you ready for months of diplomatic maneuvering?”
Just the thing he needed to keep his mind off Daniela. “I’ll take it.”
He turned to leave, but then stopped and stuck his head back in the door again. “What are you assigning Daniela?”
Karin raised an eyebrow. “She came in first thing this morning and quit. You’re friends, aren’t you? I thought you’d know all about it.”
She quit.
Good.
Ian didn’t want her anywhere near danger. He wondered what she was going to do next. He wanted to offer his help. As he left Karin, his hand was in his pocket, on his phone, ready to call Daniela.
But by the time he walked out of the CPRU office into the hallway, he realized he shouldn’t. He wished he could be the man she needed, but he wasn’t. Hanging on to her would be unforgivably selfish. No matter what anybody said, he had to let her go.
Rocket booster, say good-bye to rocket and prepare to plummet.
Part III
Chapter Nineteen
6 months later
Eduardo
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Eduardo sat on the ornate cast-iron bench in front of his brother’s grave as rain drizzled from the gray, unforgiving sky. Darker clouds gathered on the horizon, but he should have some time before the storm hit.
He touched the gravestone he’d bought for his brother—the black granite bigger and fancier than he could afford, but he didn’t care. If only he could talk to Marcos one last time. If only they could have one last drink together.
But time turned back for no man. Time flowed only forward, like the Amazon, and took whatever it damn well pleased.
Eduardo had lost Marcos, a fact he needed to accept, the same way he needed to accept that he’d also lost his father.
Marcos’s brutal murder six months ago had shaken Raul Morais so much, the old man had spent a fortune on investigating why his eldest had been killed. He’d found out about the stolen diamonds. And then he’d exploded with rage. He could not forgive Marcos turning criminal. He refused to even attend the funeral.
He hated Eduardo too now. He’d found out that Eduardo and Marcos had plotted together from the beginning. The old man changed his will, disinheriting Eduardo completely. And then he’d divorced wife number three, married a new one, barely twenty, and gotten her pregnant on the wedding night.
Eduardo had only seen the bitch in the papers. Joaquim the butler-bodyguard had Eduardo escorted off the premises when he’d tried to visit. The mansion where the future president of Brazil was going to be raised did not admit criminals.
Eduardo wanted to murder all of them. He’d spent months fantasizing how he would do it, even though he knew that security would never let him anywhere near the family mansion again. He’d been banished.
His fury had no outlet.
Until this morning. The American private investigator Marcos had hired before he’d been killed called while Eduardo was drinking his first cup of coffee. He’d found Ian Slaney, Finch’s thieving buddy.
Eduardo patted the black granite, then let it go, pulled the plane ticket to Washington DC from his pocket, and showed it to Marcos’s headstone. “I’m going today. I’m going to avenge you, brother.”
Leaving Brazil might be the best course of action, in any case. He’d done a good job of hiding so far, always on the move. But he couldn’t for a moment forget that he too had a price on his head.
* * *
Daniela
Daniela pushed her hair behind her ear as she looked in the mirror. She liked her new hairstyle, short, sassy, easy. With the hours she was putting in at work and school, she didn’t have time to care for hair that reached below her waist.
She’d grown tired of wearing it in a bun at her nape. She no longer wanted the old-fashioned, matronly bun so she could look older for Ian. The pixie cut made her look the young, hip professional she was.
“You could try going blond,” Iris said on speaker. “I think it’d look good on you. Of course, everything looks good on the young and beautiful.” Her words had an undertone.
“Having seconds thoughts about emerald?” Daniela asked as she spritzed a tiny bit of perfume on her neck.
“You should have talked me out of it. I look like Kermit.”
As much as Daniela loved her, she did secretly think that, with the new glasses, Iris had a slightly froggish appearance. “I could pop in tomorrow. I’ll help you dye it back to black.”
“Would you? Thank you.” She paused. “Ian called earlier.”
Daniela’s pulse sped up. “Everything okay?”
“He seems to be in no imminent danger. Other than frustration slowly killing him.” Another pause. “He asked about you.”
“Any idea when he’ll be coming home?”
“Not yet. I’ll go and check on his place tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can swing by after we do your hair.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wanted to pick up a few things anyway.” And Iris’s knees were giving her more and more trouble lately. She was beginning to find stairs challenging. Whenever she could, Daniela was more than happy to help.
“You’re a sweetheart.” Iris smacked a kiss. “Wait. I have to go. Barry is here. Have fun tonight. Find true love.”
“You too.”
Iris laughed. “Honestly? I’m just looking to get laid. Don’t tell Ian. But I’m not going to say no if Barry asks. You never know when it’s going to be the last time, at my age.”
“Not for a long while. You’re a beautiful, vivacious woman.”
“Damn right. And I want to go out with a bang.” She giggled like a teenager. “Pun intended.”
“I fully support the effort. But let me just say this ahead of time, I’m not going to want any details.”
“You and Ian could be twins. It’s scary.” Iris tried for a disgruntled grumble, then closed with “Have fun. I love you.”
“I love you too, Iris.”
She truly did. She felt as if she’d found another mother in the older woman. And Crystal was like the sister Daniela had never had.
Daniela had accused Ian of wanting his family back, but maybe she wanted the same thing, because somehow she’d managed to gather a small family around herself. And Bobby…
Maybe Bobby was another puzzle piece that would help her create that wholeness she craved.
She clicked of
f the phone and turned around slowly, doing one last mirror check. Her teal dress was fun and flirty, a light silk, flaring at the knees. Perfect for her date.
She’d learned to appreciate Bobby for never giving up, for always coming back, for wanting her without wavering. For knowing what he wanted and being brave enough to stick with it. She no longer wanted a man larger than life, the legendary hero, the completely unattainable.
She’d had a pretty good talk with her shrink about that. How she’d always felt guilty about her past, so maybe she thought she didn’t deserve true happiness and chose Ian, a man she subconsciously knew she could never have.
If she wanted a better future, she needed to learn to make better choices.
The intercom chimed. She pressed it and said, “I’m on my way down,” at the same time as Bobby said, “I’m here.”
Purse. Keys. Shoes. And then she was running down the stairs.
Crystal texted her:
Want to go out?
Daniela texted her back:
Going out with Bobby. Want to come?
Crystal wrote:
Too fabulous to be 3rd wheel. Will magnanimously
give him privacy to pop the question.
Daniela typed:
He’s not going to propose!
To which Crystal said:
Get back to me on that later.
And she signed off with an icon of a madly waving penguin.
“Hey, beautiful.” Bobby took Daniela’s hand as soon as she stepped through the apartment building’s front door. He twirled her around. Gave a wolf whistle. Then he pulled her in and kissed her.
He had a firm body—from golf and tennis, both of which he was teaching her. He was lighthearted and fun, and he unabashedly, unapologetically wanted her. Which he proved by deepening the kiss, pulling her tighter into his embrace, and then whispering into her ear, “We don’t have to go out for dinner. We could order in, hang out on your couch, and watch Netflix.”
She knew what that meant. And part of her even wanted it. But every time the opportunity came up, she felt she wasn’t ready.
She kissed him back.
I’ll have to be ready soon.
They’d been dating for three months. He was a great guy, but he wasn’t going to wait forever.
She tugged him toward his blue Prius parked by the curb. “Come on. You promised me the roast duck. Don’t think you’ll weasel out of it.”
He grinned back, his hair in golden spikes, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. “I wouldn’t dream.”
As he drove to the restaurant, he reached over and took her hand. “I’ll have to go to the Montreal office.”
They both worked for the same law firm, Bobby as a junior attorney, Daniela as an assistant. She’d entered law school after all. She liked the law. Especially human rights law. The cases were international, interesting, required plenty of investigation. She was challenged and got to use her skills.
She’d already assisted on a case in India that resulted in a dozen child brides being given back to their families so they could finish growing up and going to school. And she’d assisted on a case of sex trafficking from Mexico to the US, to make sure that the victims’ rights were protected.
She was happy. She was becoming a person who helped others.
She could have been happy at CPRU too, but it’d been a job she’d applied for to prove a point to Ian. No more of that. Law school and the new job had given her the new start she’d needed. She felt content. She felt that she was in the right place for this point in her life.
Maybe even with the right man. She smiled at Bobby. “How long will you have to be in Montreal?”
He groaned. “A full month. I’m going to miss you like crazy.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Next week. Want to cook me a good-bye dinner?”
She kept her smile. “One good-bye dinner, coming up. And then when you get back, I’ll cook you a welcome-home dinner.”
“I love you, you know that?”
She could almost, almost, say it back. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but by the time she was about to release them, Bobby was pulling into a parking spot. They were at the restaurant.
During dinner, they talked about cases, people at work, plans for the summer, the possibility of Bobby trading his car in for a newer model, if he could get promoted from junior attorney.
“Either a newer car,” he said, holding her gaze, “or I could switch to a larger apartment.”
He took her hand on the table. She let him play with her fingers. Was he getting ready to ask her to move in with him?
Was she ready to say yes?
“Or maybe just an apartment closer to work,” she said. Rush-hour traffic was the bane of both of their existences.
The duck tasted great. They had a fun time together. Bobby was gentle, attentive, and he loved her. When, postdate, he asked to come up to her place, she said yes.
She made two decaf cappuccinos.
He flipped through the TV channels and settled on a basketball game. As she brought over the cups and set them on the coffee table, he reached for her and pulled her onto his lap.
“I want you crazy much.” He kissed her.
He was a good kisser.
He was also extremely good at manipulating her out of her dress. She barely even realized what was happening before she was in her panties and bra, on her back on the couch, Bobbie over her.
He kissed her neck. “God, you’re beautiful.”
He caressed her breasts through the lace of her bra. He pressed his erection between her legs. Then he eased back a little and put his hand inside her panties.
She unbuckled his belt and slipped her hands in, between the pants and his underwear, cupped him, rubbed her palm against him. He groaned into her ear.
While his fingers played with her, she slid hers inside his silk briefs. He pressed his hot length into her palm.
“I know you’re not ready for more—”—he gasped the words in a ragged whisper—“but…” He groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”
She wrapped her fingers around his hard length and worked him as he pumped into her hand. Then he bowed his back and came, and collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, laughing weakly.
He gathered her against him and kissed her. “I love you. And I can’t wait to be able to do that inside you. I know you don’t jump into bed with people easily, and I respect you for that. I love you for that. I’m not going to push.”
He kissed her again, this time without heat, with mellow love and affection.
She kissed him back. And decided that next week, after the good-bye dinner, she was going to let him inside her bedroom, in her bed, inside her.
But first, she was going to tell him about her past. She didn’t want to have secrets from the first man who’d ever told her he loved her, someone who was working up to asking her to move in with him, and maybe more. Letting him believe that her reluctance stemmed from old-fashioned morals and shyness was the same as lying.
Here was a man who loved her, someone she could grow to love back. They couldn’t build their future on lies. She’d built an entire relationship with Ian out of nothing but fantasies. She’d learned from that mistake.
This time, she wanted something solid and real.
* * *
Eduardo
Eduardo had a name, Ian Slaney, and he had an address. Trouble was, he’d been in DC for two weeks and nobody had showed up at the address yet.
He’d picked the lock—no security system, piece of cake—but he found nothing to help him to track down his target. At least he wasn’t at a complete dead end. The apartment hadn’t been cleaned out: cans in the kitchen cabinets, clothes in the closet, books on the shelf. Maybe Ian Slaney was on a trip and would be back soon.
So Eduardo rented a place across the courtyard, in the same apartment complex, on the same floor. From his bedroom, he could monitor Slaney’s windows. Any sign of movem
ent, and he could be over there in two minutes.
* * *
Daniela
Daniela was swamped between school and work. Ian had called, his usual once-a-week check-in. He’d asked about Bobby. He was okay with the relationship, even encouraged it.
Daniela was glad that they’d found their way back to friendship.
Bobby called every night. Tonight, he was in high spirits. The case he was working on finally moved forward. Daniela suspected he’d had a few drinks out of his hotel room’s mini fridge.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
“Judge’s robes and nothing under.” A fantasy of his that he’d told her about.
“God, you’re torturing me.”
She grinned. “What are you wearing?”
“Legal briefs.” He snickered.
She rolled her eyes. But she had a smile on her face.
“I miss you,” he said next.
“I miss you too.”
She had chickened out of telling him about her past before he’d left. But she was determined to do it right away when he returned. She’d cook for him. They’d have a good talk. Then they would go to bed and see where they could take their relationship.
“So, a cop, a lawyer, and a judge walk into a bar,” Bobby began.
She settled in and let him tell her silly jokes for almost an hour, and enjoyed the company.
After they said their good-byes and hung up, she felt restless. She wasn’t ready to go to sleep.
She thought about the legal dictionaries and college notes she’d left behind at Ian’s apartment and decided to drive over and get them. She wanted to check on his apartment for him anyway. He’d been away for over six months. She had a key. She went over every couple of weeks to make sure he didn’t have a leaky pipe or an ant infestation, or…okay, because she missed the place.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave as she headed out. Past nine p.m. Good. At least, she wouldn’t have to fight traffic.
She was there in thirty minutes, let herself in, walked around, checked out every corner. Everything looked fine. She cracked a window open to let some fresh air in, since the apartment smelled stale.
