by Zoe Dawson
“Why did you let him go?”
She stirred beside him, but he couldn’t see her face in the dark. Her voice was pensive and quiet. “Because he’d survived for so long. I just couldn’t eat him. Is that dumb?”
Cradling her against his chest, he smoothed her hair back off her face and kissed her temple. “No, I don’t think that was dumb at all.”
He wanted her to be his, but was their concept of how to live life too divergent?
He knew her intimately and she knew him. But was that enough?
She fought against the attraction and the chemistry because she was dedicated to a promise she’d made when she’d been young and vulnerable. Lost and alone. It hurt his heart to think of her like that. He wanted her to get in touch with everything she’d shunned. All those feelings that made a person alive and strong and real.
Denying them wasn’t healthy.
He wanted to change her mind. He wanted to make her understand that what they were building was solid, so solid it could last a lifetime.
If she would let it.
She could be his, if she let her past go.
He wasn’t sure she could.
He wasn’t sure where that would leave them.
Chapter Fourteen
“Dmitry?”
The younger man rubbed the back of his neck and sat back from the computer.
“Anything?” Alex growled in Russian, so frustrated he wanted to punch something.
“I broke into his personal email, and there was correspondence with a friend of his about a cabin.”
“Where?”
“I’m still going through the emails, but so far there has only been a reference to it. It’s possible he’s already deleted the emails that described it in more detail.”
“Shit!”
Dmitry typed on the keyboard and stared at the screen. “I’m trying to backtrack and find out who friend is, then I can search for properties. I need more time.”
Alex grabbed him out of the chair and slammed him against the wall. “We’re running out of time! We are supposed to deliver her tomorrow. Find that damn cabin. I am not going to be bested by some smart bitch and her lapdog! Find them!”
Dmitry started to sweat. That was a good sign—he realized that Alex was dead serious. “Agent Fitzgerald graduated from MIT. I’ll try to find an address in their database. That will at least lead to his family, where we might get some leverage.”
“His name is way too common to search for him that way. Where is MIT?”
“Cambridge, Massachusetts.”
“Massachusetts? Do we have anyone in that area?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Hack the university and see if you can find a home address for him. And his parents most likely paid for his education. Track them that way, too. There’s always a money trail.”
“Yes, sir,” Dmitry said, looking as if Alex had given him the incentive he needed.
“I’m going to contact our employer for any insight from him.”
Alex walked away from the kitchen table, leaving Dmitry to work. They still had the possibility that Dr. Baang would act true to form, demand her laptop with the hidden microdot that contained a GPS tracker that would lead them right to her, but so far, she hadn’t. Alex wasn’t any closer to tracking down Agent Fitzgerald’s family. That could be a damn dead end. If he put stock in Dmitry’s skills, then getting leverage against Agent Fitzgerald would be in the bag, as the Americans said.
He dialed and waited for the call to go through.
“It’s me,” he said.
“Do you have her?”
“Nyet. Can you do anything to speed up process? You know girl better.”
“I tried, but I haven’t heard from her. They might get suspicious if I push. She’s got to be getting pretty antsy right about now.”
Alex heard a phone ringing in the background. “Speak of the devil. Got you, sweetheart.”
“This is good news? She grabbed bait and will lead us to her. Call if you have lead.”
“You’re lucky, Captain Andreyev.”
“Da. I feel better when I have girl and turn her over to you to get paid.”
He disconnected the call and went into the kitchen to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of vodka.
Dmitry looked up from his computer and smiled. Alex smiled back, knowing that Dmitry was aware that if Alex was drinking, it meant they were celebrating.
His computer beeped. Alex walked up and looked over his shoulder. He was into MIT’s database. He grinned. They did have something to celebrate as Special Agent Vincent Fitzgerald’s personal information flashed up on his screen.
When Russell picked up the phone, Sky breathed a sigh of relief. She had to at least touch base with him, and the phone was untraceable, so she felt safe calling him.
“Russell?”
“Hello there, hon. How are you holding up?”
“Not very well. I wish I could go back to work.” She set the scarf down and rubbed at her forehead. The day had dawned, and Vin was outside again doing a perimeter check and making sure his map was accurate before he was satisfied. But she’d heard him shouting, and she guessed that he’d been talking to his boss. He wasn’t happy.
That was one man she wouldn’t want as an enemy.
She’d had a good time with him yesterday, but today she was feeling restless. It hadn’t been until he was fast asleep that she’d remembered she’d asked him if something was bothering him. He’d replied yes, but in the excitement of catching Monster and the rest of the fun, relaxing day, it had slipped her mind.
Being in his arms seemed to make everything better. But she didn’t want to get too used to it. There were still barriers to their understanding of each other. She’d read something in a journal once about how couples got used to sleeping with each other, so that it was hard for them to sleep without their partner.
She had to wonder if that was going to happen to her when she and Vin parted and went back to their own lives.
Her heart ached at that thought, but how could she reconcile her oath to honor her parents’ sacrifice and take this happiness for herself? Guilt tightened her chest and her throat hurt. She could barely remember what her mother looked like. She’d had to leave everything behind when they had fled. No pictures of her mother or father. Nothing to remember them by except for the solid foundation of her vow.
How many times had her father told her how important it was to make the gift of her intelligence count? How many times had her aunt reinforced that, mentioning how much her parents had sacrificed for her?
She was jerked back into the conversation when Russell said, “Well, you know you can’t. Not until this threat against you has been neutralized. But having your laptop with you will at least allow you to work some. I’m depending on you, Sky. Could you thank Agent Fitzgerald for relaying my message to call me back?”
“What? When did you call Agent Fitzgerald?”
“Couple of days ago. Actually, I called his boss. I’m assuming he relayed the message. I need the data on the Stargazer project.”
“It’s on my laptop.”
“Don’t you have that with you?”
“No. When I ran from the safe house, I had to leave it behind, but it’s secure with NCIS.”
“Well, are you close enough that you could get Agent Fitzgerald to get it for you? I’m desperate here. I need that data for a meeting I have at the Pentagon at the end of the week.”
“I’m almost finished analyzing it. It shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours.”
“That would be stellar.”
“I’m sorry about all this, Russell.”
“So am I, Skylar. Thank you for handling that for me.”
She disconnected the call.
Vin came into the cabin then, and she turned toward him. He saw the phone in her hand and toed off his boots, frowning. It looked as though he was already in a bad mood. Part of his argument with his boss? Partly what he w
anted to spill to her? “Who were you calling? It would be best if you didn’t call anyone.”
“I thought you said this phone was untraceable,” she said bluntly as her temper began to snap inside her like a live wire.
He walked up to her, already doing that observant once-over of her, scrutinizing her pose, her expression, the passion in her voice. “It is, but you could let something slip. We can’t trust anyone.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to placate her, but she almost wished he had. “I’m not an idiot. We can trust Russell. He’s my boss and has a high-level clearance.”
His gaze intensified, sharpened, as if he had sensed something in her. Slowly, he leaned forward until he was just a little too close. “Not high enough to be a part of Stingray. I don’t trust anyone at this point.”
Annoyance flicked through her, and her chin came up. “When were you going to tell me that he called?”
He rubbed at his temple, and his eyes hardened. “It slipped my mind, Sky. I had other things occupying my attention.”
“You had no right to keep that from me. This is my job.”
He stared at her a moment, then paced away, his tone flat. “Right. Your life. How could I have forgotten?”
She folded her arms, her anger jumping up a notch. “Don’t use that tone. My job is important to me. I have several high-level projects I’m working on. I want you to go get my laptop.”
“Sky—”
She marched up to him and poked him in the chest. “No, Vin. I’m going crazy here. All I’ve got to do is knit, and that is not stimulating my brain. I’ll be jumping out of my skin by the end of the week.”
“Why don’t you use your meditation CDs and do some yoga to relax?”
His dismissive tone only made her dig her heels in deeper, her stomach turning at the change of subject to something that she didn’t want to discuss. “Yoga is exercise, and meditation doesn’t take up a significant amount of the day. I didn’t start Espritu to be a substitute for other pursuits, Vin.”
“What? You started Espritu? That’s your business?”
She bit her lip. Damn him for distracting her, now she’d let the cat out of the bag.
“Yes. In college, as a project I was interested in sounds and how they soothed people. So, I experimented with them and came up with a regimen to complement my yoga routine.” She looked away, trying to cover how much she didn’t want to talk about this.
“You love yoga, don’t you?”
Dammit, the man was too observant.
“Don’t you?” he pressed.
“Yes. I love yoga. Your point?” She said it calmly, but she wanted to shout it.
He studied her as if her anger didn’t even faze him. His eyes were intent and deep. They narrowed, and he said, “No, you really love it, like in you’d like to teach it.”
“That’s a frivolous pursuit,” she said, guilt twisting her up inside. It also happened to be true, but she’d put aside her own dreams of owning a studio for family obligations. “My time is better spent serving my country.”
“You have really done a number on yourself.”
She bristled. “Vin, I’m not in the mood right now to debate my choices. Right now, I need you to get in the car and get my laptop. Russell needs the data for a meeting.”
“No.”
“What? You can’t refuse to do this for me. I’m not a prisoner.”
His expression eased. “No, you’re not. Back to the question on the yoga, I’m trying to understand. I really am, but I don’t buy into this theory that your parents wanted you to give up everything so you can use your big brain. That’s what my family wants me to do.”
“What? Is that what you were going to tell me yesterday? Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I’m torn between protecting you and worrying about my family.”
He seemed evasive, as if he didn’t want to tell her the meat of the issue. As if he was holding back from her. She was hurt and shocked. She’d been so open with him. More open than she’d been with anyone in her life. “What is it you’re trying really hard not to tell me?”
“My father is ill, and he can no longer run the family business that is their sole income. That includes my sister, who works for the company. My father wants me to come back home and take over.”
She stepped closer to him. She softened her voice. Antagonizing him wasn’t helping. She tried to get control of her anger, but once she let it have free rein, it bubbled up from a dark well she’d kept a lid on. “Vin, please do this for me. Make it work. I know you can. I just want to stay busy.”
“No, you don’t. Working, for you, is all about maintaining your family’s honor. You feel if you’re not working, you’re somehow failing. It’s all tied up inside you together. You can’t separate them. Admit it.”
“What would you know about that? You’re turning your back on your family. I may work all the time, but I hold my family in esteem.”
“You’re getting me all wrong. Why can’t you understand what I’m saying to you? I love my family, but just because I don’t do what they want me to do, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about them.”
“You don’t want to do this to honor your family? Make this sacrifice? At least you have the opportunity to make a difference in their lives.” She wrestled with trying to understand his point of view and getting him to understand how maintaining family honor to her was more important than either individual freedom or individual achievement. Something both her parents had done without hesitation. How could she do anything less?
“That’s not fair and exactly how I expected you to react. How can I put this so you’ll understand? What I do at NCIS protects everyone, including my family. It makes my life worth living. I don’t want to give it up.”
“I don’t understand you, Vin. I can’t conceive of not helping out your family in their hour of need.”
He blinked a couple of times as if her words cut him to the quick. Sacrificing was something that she understood, but Vin’s need to find his own way without consideration of his family’s needs was very alien to her. Her emotions were tying her up, confusing her. Maybe it was her own personal failing, but the values had been ingrained in her from birth and that was all she could see. His face tightened, and the glimmer of hurt glistened in his eyes.
He stepped within inches of her, leaning down, meeting her at eye level, his nose almost touching hers. In the bright light, his green eyes were as hard and unrelenting as agate. “No, you don’t get me, Sky. Taking what you want in life honors yourself. I don’t know the situation yet. I don’t know what is going on at home. I’m conflicted about the choices I have to make, and you siding with my family doesn’t help.”
She was in full panic mode now. It was better to make it clear to him about where she stood. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t know how, and it already hurt more than she could stand.
“It’s obvious to me that we have different mind-sets when it comes to how we view our families. You don’t understand me, and I don’t understand you. Family honor is the foundation of my culture.”
“And freedom of choice is the foundation of being an American. So, we are of two different minds when it comes to this. Or are we? You’re holding on to the past. You were just a child then, and it must have been terrifying to lose your mother, then be separated from your father. You’re afraid of real emotion, like we’re sharing. It scares you because it brings all of that back. That’s why you isolate yourself from living and work has become so important to you. You’re afraid of life. You haven’t even visited the Philippines. You aren’t embracing your culture. You’re running scared.”
She straightened, her heart lurching at his words. The hurt in his eyes was having a profound effect on her, but she stubbornly held on to what she knew, afraid to walk into that unknown black void and deal with all the stuff he’d just mentioned. It wasn’t true. She was doing something important with her life, just as they’d wished it. She wasn’t afraid.
She wasn’t.
“And it seems we’re incompatible. I would lose respect for you if you don’t do what is right for your family. I just see it as dishonor. You disappoint me, Vin.”
He grasped her upper arms, and the feel of his hands sent waves of electricity through her. His eyes tormented with unexpressed emotions, he said, “Why can’t you just see me as a man who’s trying to make the right choices for his own life? You should make your own choices and stop holding on to the past, sacrificing everything for your deceased parents who aren’t even alive to judge you.”
“I’m alive to judge me. My foundations are all I have left of them.”
“Are you living?” He got closer and the tension around them increased tenfold. She couldn’t help responding to him; her whole body yearned for him even with her anger and her disappointment wedging between them. She shivered at the way he looked at her, the desire melded with the pain and the tension ratcheting up with each breath they took. Longing welled inside her when he reached out to touch her, and the feel of his fingertips on her face eased an ache in her, filled the hole in her heart. He framed her face with his palms, his fingers combing back into her long hair.
He leaned down, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “I bet you’ve lived more while on the run these past few days than you have your whole life.” His mouth descended to hers, his lips trembling.
She couldn’t fight it. She sank against him, shivered against him, savoring the feel of his strong arms around her, the vulnerability in his kiss. Her skin alive with awareness, she tingled at the slightest brush of his fingertips, the sensations swirling in her like stardust.
“Feel that?” he said, “That’s genuine. That’s intimacy. That’s living.”
She wanted so much to yield, but she couldn’t. She pulled away, backed up and put distance between them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He sighed, looking as if he wanted to pursue her, but he didn’t. “Yes, I do. I know the truth hurts. So, here’s a little more. I think you’re afraid of letting go and living, because with life comes pain and indecision, and a whole host of chaotic and difficult emotions. I think that scares you because you’ve lived in this sterile life. You’ve lived in your head all these years, finding it hard to connect to people too mature for you at such a young age. Pain is living. Hard choices are all about living. Making your own decisions is living. What you’re doing is just marking time until it runs out. Will you have regrets then? Because there’s one more thing that’s all about living. Love.”
