Читать книгу Black Ops Warrior - Amelia Autin - Страница 12

Chapter 2

Savannah surveyed the contents of the closet in her hotel room with disfavor. As if something incredibly eye-catching and seductive would miraculously appear if she stared long enough, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t own anything incredibly eye-catching and seductive. And if she did, most likely she wouldn’t have brought it on this trip anyway. Slacks, blouses, sweaters and jeans were all she’d packed. Not a single dress. Well, there was that dressy tunic to be worn over slacks, which she’d packed for the Welcome Reception on the river cruise portion of the tour. But it wasn’t nearly sexy enough for a dinner date with Niall Johnson.

Then she took herself severely to task. “It’s not a date. It’s just...dinner.”

But dinner with a man who looked at her the way she’d dreamed of having a man look at her. As if she was irresistible. As if he wanted to do unspeakably wonderful things to her body...all night long.

Her imagination immediately went into overdrive and her nipples tightened unbearably. Unexpected heat in her core sent the blood rushing to her cheeks, and all of a sudden she grabbed her purse off the bed and headed for the door. There were at least two elegant shops on the first floor of this five-star hotel. And she had time...if she didn’t dawdle.

* * *

Five hundred seventy-three dollars poorer, Savannah opened her hotel door at Niall’s knock, and he literally did a double take. “Wow. I mean...” He seemed at a loss for words, and the stunned expression in his eyes conveyed that every penny had been well spent. “Wow,” he said again.

“Thanks.” She thought about adding, Just a little something I packed at the last minute, but she didn’t think she could pull it off. Instead, she admitted, “I kind of got carried away in the stores downstairs.” Which she had. The peach-colored frock, with its frothy, layered-chiffon skirt and coyly plunging neckline, was one she’d never even imagined trying on. But the saleswoman in the shop had known her business, and before Savannah had realized it, she’d bought the dress, sheer stockings and silk-and-lace wisps of panties and a bra.

Then, because she’d already splurged, she’d headed for the drugstore and the cosmetics counter there. Peach lip gloss to match the dress, of course, and eye shadow to make her gray eyes smoky and mysterious—it was amazing what a little makeup did to change a woman’s appearance. Not to mention what it did for a woman’s self-esteem in a social setting.

She didn’t wear makeup as a general rule, because she’d always wanted to be taken seriously as an engineer. Not as a woman engineer. So she’d never worn it at work, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to apply it. She’d experimented in middle and high school like most girls, and she knew what suited her. But it had been a long time.

Niall looked fantastic in gray slacks and a long-sleeved white dress shirt, but then he had this morning, too, in much more casual clothes. His slightly-too-long brown hair would have looked ungroomed on another man, but on Niall...it was perfect. Out of the blue, she thought of Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp in the movie Tombstone, and realized she’d hit the nail on the head. She could so envision him as a gunslinger in the Wild West.

He was watching her mouth again. Something about that intent stare thrilled Savannah to no end. She would normally be flustered by male attention of that sort—not that she’d had all that much of it in her life, in large part because she’d eschewed it—but still...

It was different with Niall, though. He made her feel desired, but safe...in an unsafe sort of way. In other words, as safe as she wanted to be.

But she didn’t want to be. She’d spent all that money on this dress and everything else, for one reason and one reason only. She wanted to throw caution to the winds. She wanted to be reckless for once in her life. She wanted to be wild and wanton. And she had every intention of letting Niall teach her how to be wild and wanton, things at which she was absolutely sure he was an expert.

Which was why she’d bought something else at the drugstore. She’d hidden the little box in the nightstand by her bed, but she was acutely aware it was there. And if she played her cards right tonight, Niall would be using its contents. Multiple times.

* * *

Niall told himself it was just the dress and the makeup. Fine feathers make a fine bird, he reminded himself cynically. But he was lying to himself...and he never did that. Which meant it wasn’t the dress, and it wasn’t the makeup. It was the woman he was attracted to. He’d been entranced by her lips earlier today, and there hadn’t been a trace of lip gloss on them then.

Desire had tugged at his loins when he’d created that little space for her on the Great Wall, and he’d wanted to pull her into his arms and possess that mouth with a single-mindedness that made a mockery of his assignment. Desire that had flared out of nowhere. Desire that now threatened to get out of hand.

She’s your target. The reminder helped, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

* * *

“So tell me why this year is so special,” Niall invited. They’d filled their plates at the buffet, then reseated themselves in the secluded corner booth he’d charmed the hostess into seating them in.

He watched as Savannah swallowed a bite of the excellent shrimp in lobster sauce he’d already sampled. His brain took a quick detour as he considered pressing his lips to the delicate hollow of her throat, clearly visible in that temptation of a dress. He dragged his attention back with an effort when she said, “My parents died three months ago.”

He blinked. He knew that fact—of course he knew. He knew just about everything there was to know about her. But he’d never have thought their deaths would be something she—

“They were booked on a round-the-world cruise,” she continued softly, her eyes filled with shadows. “To be followed by a series of cruises along ancient waterways—the Nile, the Amazon and the Yangtze Rivers, among others. It was the dream of a lifetime for them. It’s not as if they’d never travelled before, but not like this for many, many years...mostly because of me.”

“Because of you?” He knew why, but he wanted to encourage her to confide in him. To trust him.

She hesitated. “My parents used to travel a lot during Christmas and summer breaks from teaching, mostly in the US. And they continued doing that when I came along. But...” She glanced down at her plate, then back up at Niall. “The summer I turned four, we flew to Hawaii—Oahu, actually. I loved it, right up until I got separated from my parents in a Waikiki open-air tourist market. Masses of people. All strangers. All crowding around me. And when I started crying, everyone tried to help. But that only made things worse. People kept coming up behind me, touching me. I panicked and began hyperventilating. I passed out eventually, collapsing into a little ball on the ground. By the time my parents found me...”

“So that’s why you don’t like crowds.”

“Not crowds so much,” she explained, “although I prefer not to be in them. It’s more people coming up behind me. Touching me unexpectedly. Like today at the Great Wall.”

“I understand.” He didn’t have to fake the empathy.

“I had therapy, of course. And I don’t panic nearly as often as I used to. But for the rest of my childhood and adolescence, we never traveled anywhere that might bring on one of my crowd-induced panic attacks. Which pretty much ruled out most tourist destinations. It wasn’t until my parents no longer had to worry about me that they were free to travel again, but...”

She paused as if her thoughts were a million miles away, and Niall asked, “But...?”

“Then my mom got sick. Kidney failure. Which meant she was tied to a dialysis schedule that wouldn’t allow her to travel far from home, especially overseas. You can arrange for dialysis someplace other than your home hospital here in the US, but she was also on a waiting list for a transplant. I don’t know if you know how that works, but when you’re on the list they give you a beeper. You have to be at the ready the instant a kidney becomes available, because there’s a very limited time window. Otherwise it goes to someone else, the next blood-and-tissue match on the list.

“And my mom had a somewhat rare blood type, which meant the odds of a match weren’t all that good to begin with. She wasn’t about to risk missing out on a kidney transplant, so they never went anywhere they couldn’t return from at a moment’s notice.”

She sighed softly. “My mom finally got her transplant two years ago. But my parents had been planning for the day they’d finally be free to travel again long before that. They were going to take a spectacular trip to make up for all the trips they hadn’t been able to take over the years, first because of me, then because of my mom’s health. And they were going first class all the way. They’d planned what they would see and do at each port of call, in minute detail.

“They had to wait, somewhat impatiently, to make sure my mom’s body didn’t reject the donated organ, but the trip was all they talked about, especially toward the end, when it was finally going to be a reality. They’d both arranged sabbaticals so they didn’t have to worry about how long they’d be gone—they were professors at the University of Arizona, you see. My father in mathematics, my mother in ancient history,” she explained unnecessarily, although she didn’t know it.

“And...?” Niall prompted when she fell silent.

“And they were on the way to the airport to embark on their grand adventure, when a trucker fell asleep at the wheel. At least...that’s what the police theorized. His truck jackknifed on the I-10 freeway, then flipped over, pinning my parents’ car beneath it.”

Even though Niall already knew all of this, hearing the words from Savannah, hearing the grief in her voice, did something to him, and his brows drew together in a frown. He reached across the table and touched her hand briefly. “I’m so sorry.”

She drew a shaky breath before continuing. “It still hurts,” she said in a tight little voice. “But it’s not as bad as it was at first.”

“I lost my dad some years back,” Niall admitted before he could stop himself. “And yeah, it still hurts. It will always hurt. That old ‘time heals all wounds’ saying is a load of crap. But it does get easier. Trust me on this.”

She smiled mistily at him, and Niall had the sudden, eerie sensation of falling.

* * *

Five tables away—not close enough to hear the conversation, even though they strained their ears—a couple posing as husband and wife covertly watched the other couple. Both wondered what Savannah Whitman was saying to put that steely eyed expression on her companion’s face. And both wondered just who the hell he was, what he was doing with their target and...whether or not they’d need to take him out. Things were going to be tricky enough as it was. They didn’t need some stranger throwing a monkey wrench into the works.

“She was supposed to be on her own,” the woman muttered. “Isn’t that what Spencer told us?”

“Yes.” Just the one word, but it conveyed a wealth of meaning.

“How are we supposed to—”

Her pseudo-husband cut her off. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”

“Yes but—”

“Quiet!” He cast her a quelling glance. “I’m trying to read their lips.” He cursed under his breath. “But the angle is all wrong, damn it! Why did you allow the hostess to seat us in this out-of-the-way table? If we were closer, I might be able to hear what they’re saying or at least read their lips.”

“Why did I—It was you. You were the one who—”

He brought his hand up sharply, and she fell silent. “Let’s go the buffet,” he said, standing abruptly. “Maybe we can maneuver into getting close enough to hear something. At least find out who the hell he is.”

* * *

Niall shook his head and the eerie feeling went away, but he wondered what it meant. He’d never suffered from vertigo before, but then, deep down, he knew it wasn’t vertigo. He just didn’t want acknowledge the real cause. To distract himself he said, “So your parents were killed in an accident. And then...?”

“At first I was in shock. I mean...they weren’t that old. I just didn’t expect it, you know?”

He nodded.

“Not both of them at the same time. But as I was picking out clothes for them to be buried in, it came to me with such cruel irony that they never fulfilled their dream. They’d planned this trip for so long, and then—boom! They never got to take it. They never saw the Egyptian pyramids except in photographs. They never stood on the Acropolis and felt history all around them. They never gazed at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in awe and wonder. All the things they’d promised each other they’d do someday.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper at this point, and Niall sensed she was talking more to herself than to him. She swallowed hard, and he knew she was holding back tears.

“Someday never came for them. Death cheated them out of the someday they’d promised each other. I stood at their graves after the funeral, and I swore I wasn’t going to wait another day. I was going to do all the things I’d dreamed of doing, and I was going to do them now.”

Niall saw it all then, and the relief that rushed through him was out of proportion to what she’d said. But it wasn’t out of proportion to what it meant to him.

“I resigned the very next day. Everyone thought I was overreacting to my parents’ deaths, and would change my mind once I came to my senses. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but they tried to convince me anyway. They wanted me to postpone my decision until I’d had time to think about it. No amount of thinking was going to make a difference, though. Does that make sense?”

Niall nodded again.

“I gave them a month’s notice, but I agreed to extend it to two because I still had to settle my parents’ estate, sell their house. Stuff like that. And I needed time to arrange some of the trips I wanted to take anyway, so...”

She paused for a moment, then continued. “But I... I couldn’t explain the real reason I’d resigned to the people at work. They didn’t want to listen, and I’m not very good at talking about personal issues with them, anyway, especially my section hea—”

She cut off the rest of what she’d started to say, and Niall filled in the blanks. Section head, by which he knew she meant her immediate supervisor at the internationally famous defense contractor—one of the top five in the US—where she’d worked up until a month ago.

Her sudden reticence in discussing her job made more sense to him than it might have to someone who wasn’t in his line of work. Employees of defense contractors were strongly urged never to talk about what they did with outsiders, for fear of security leaks. Savannah had been a missile guidance, navigation and control engineer. She’d held a top secret clearance granted by the Department of Defense and had designed weapons the US relied upon to stay ahead of its enemies militarily.

But he’d bet anything she’d resigned because she was fulfilling some kind of vow she’d made to herself and to her parents. Not because she was a potential traitor.

Between her confession and everything he’d learned by hacking into her computer and searching her hotel room last night, it all boiled down to one thing: his assignment was most likely a total bust. Whoever had gotten it into his head that Savannah planned to sell what she knew to the Chinese government and had dispatched him here was way off base.

If he didn’t need to worm his way into her confidence and compile evidence to arrest and convict her of espionage...if he didn’t need to worry about her betraying his country, either...that meant she wasn’t a security risk. Which also meant, even as a last resort, he wouldn’t have to kill her.

And considering his reaction to kissing her earlier, that revelation was a godsend.