Читать книгу Strangers When We Married - Carla Cassidy - Страница 11

Seth awakened just before dawn, surprised to realize he’d slept deeply and without nightmares. The house was dark and silent and cold…especially cold.

In fact, he was freezing. He sat up, stretched, then turned on the lamp next to the sofa. It felt like a meat locker in here.

He grabbed the multicolored afghan from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around him, then reached up and touched the tip of his nose.

Meghan had always liked to turn the furnace way down at night and apparently this peccadillo of hers hadn’t changed. His nose felt like an iceberg in the center of his face. He rubbed it several times as he contemplated turning up the thermostat, then dismissed the idea. He was here on shaky ground as it was, no sense pushing his luck.

With the afghan still around his shoulders, he padded into the kitchen and flipped on the small light above the sink.

Coffee was in order, not only to ward off the chill of the house, but to get his brain cells working properly.

He frowned as he pulled the coffee from the cabinet. She’d switched brands. He eyed the container of a gourmet brand he’d never heard of before.

She’d changed the furniture, changed her brand of coffee—what other changes had occurred in his lovely ex-wife?

As he watched the dark brew drip into the glass carafe, he wondered if she still spent long minutes each night creaming her slender, shapely legs before getting into bed? It had been one of those nightly female rituals that had driven him crazy with desire.

He’d lay next to her in bed and watch. He’d smell the heady fragrance of the cream and imagine those long, sweet-scented, silky legs wrapped around him. And when she’d finished, on most nights, his imagination would transform into mind-blowing, sensual reality.

The gurgle of the coffeemaker pulled his thoughts from what had been, and what would never be again. He poured himself a cup of the fresh brew and sank down at the table.

He and Meghan might have remained married forever had they been able to spend every minute of their time in bed. Between the sheets, they had been equal partners, companionable in their wants and needs. Out of bed they had been disastrous.

He’d probably made a mistake in coming here. He wrapped his hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. It probably would have been better for both of them had he stayed away, had he not seen his son.

Frowning, he took a sip of his coffee.

Kirk.

Seth had never thought much about having children. He’d had Meghan and he’d had his job. He’d believed that had been more than enough to fill his life, fulfill him as a man.

Even when Meghan had called him and told him she was pregnant, the idea of a child had remained vague, a mere abstract in his mind. She’d been so vehement about him staying out of her life, and at the time he’d been so bitter, it had been easy to agree to her terms that he keep away from her and their child.

There had been times in the past fourteen months that Seth had wondered about the boy, but always in his head he’d thought of Kirk as Meghan’s child, a tiny entity that had little to do with him.

He recognized now that keeping Kirk a mere abstract in his mind had been a survival instinct. But now the abstract had been transformed into a smiling little face with a mop of dark hair and bright green eyes. Now the abstract had become sweet baby scent and chubby arms and legs.

Suddenly hungry to look at his son, he shoved back from the table and stood. Leaving his halfempty cup of coffee on the table, he walked through the living room and down the long hallway.

The faint illumination of night-lights spilled from each of the doorways in the hall. It had always amused Seth that a woman as bright, as totally together as Meghan, had refused to sleep without a night-light in practically every room of the house.

He had to pass the master bedroom in order to get to the smaller room he assumed to be Kirk’s. The third room at the very end of the hall he knew was Meghan’s home office, equipped with a state-of-the-art computer system.

Moving with the grace of a cat, he started across the doorway of her room, but paused to peek in before gliding past.

She slept on her stomach, her hair an explosion of scarlet color and wild curls against the pristine white of the pillowcase. The floral bed comforter was bunched at her waist, exposing a soft green nightgown and her freckled shoulders.

He’d once told her that they’d remain married for as long as it took him to kiss every freckle she possessed. And considering the fact that she had a million freckles, the implication was their marriage would last an eternity.

But she’d blown the scenario of eternity. A blast of bitterness laced with pain shot through him. She’d excised him out of her life with a surgeon’s precision, with unrealistic expectations and the attempt to force him to deny the very essence of himself.

So much for kissing freckles, he thought as he moved on past her bedroom doorway. Eventually some other man would have that pleasure and he didn’t want to examine why that particular thought bothered him.

He drew a deep breath as he stepped into the small bedroom across the hall, drinking in the scents of sweet innocence and babyhood.

The night-light cast shadows around the room and made the teddy bears on the wallpaper appear almost animated.

The crib was against the far wall, and through the oak bars he could see his son sleeping. Holding his breath, not wanting to awaken the slumbering child, Seth stepped closer…closer still.

Kirk slept on his back and he was snoring faintly. Clad in a dark blue fuzzy sleeper, his cheeks flushed a rosy red, the sight of him expanded Seth’s heart.

His child.

His son.

Never again would Kirk be a nebulous abstract in his mind. Seth would never again have the luxury of ignorance, the bliss of not knowing what he was missing.

The desire to pick up Kirk, to hold him tight against his chest was overwhelming. The need to feel the little boy’s arms wrap around his neck, feel the snuggle warmth of his body inundated him. Forever now, Kirk would not just be a name in his mind, but rather a face, a spirit, a little person who was a part of Seth.

“What are you doing in here?”

He whirled around to meet Meghan’s angry gaze. He reeled at the sight of her. Clad in an emerald green velour robe, with her hair tousled from sleep, she looked as lovely as he’d ever seen her.

She motioned him away from the crib and out of the room. Once they were in the hallway, her expression was anything but lovely. “I don’t appreciate you skulking around the house in the middle of the night.”

“It’s practically morning, and I wasn’t skulking around,” he protested, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken Kirk. “I…I thought I heard something and just wanted to check to make sure he was okay.”

The fabrication tasted vaguely sour in his mouth. She eyed him knowingly and he felt his cheeks warm. He sighed. “I just wanted to look at him for a minute,” he finally confessed.

He could tell his answer didn’t particularly please her. “It’s awfully early in the morning to start off angry,” he said. He grinned. “But as I remember, you never were much of a morning person.”

“And as I remember, you were always nauseatingly cheerful in the mornings,” she replied with a touch of crankiness.

“But I always made the coffee for you,” he said, wondering how she could look so damned beautiful with such a scowl on her face. “And this morning isn’t any different.”

Her scowl eased somewhat and she pulled the robe more tightly around her. “Coffee sounds good,” she said grudgingly.

Together they went to the kitchen. She sat at the table while he poured her a cup of coffee and refreshed his own. “What time is it?” she asked.

Seth checked the clock on the oven. “Just a few minutes past six. Did you sleep well?” he asked as he eased down next to her at the table.

“No.” She paused long enough to take a sip from her mug. “I didn’t sleep well because there was a stranger in the house.”

“I’m hardly a stranger. We were married for seven months.”

She sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim of the mug. Her eyes looked large, luminous, but he knew he was probably nothing more to her than an indistinct shape without her glasses. “Okay,” she relented. “We were intimate strangers.”

He couldn’t argue with that. In truth, it described their brief relationship perfectly. They had been physically intimate, but when they’d finally tried to share their hopes, their dreams, their expectations for their future together, they’d realized their error in judgment about each other.

“What time do you normally go into the office?” he asked.

“Usually, I’m there around eight-thirty or quarter to nine. But, I intend to go in early today and log some time on the computer before anyone else arrives.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I can’t let anyone know what I’m doing for you.”

“Can’t you do a lot of the work here? You still have your monster computer, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I prefer to work at the office. It’s less conspicuous for me to use the official computer at work.”

Although it sounded logical, he had a feeling she had another reason to prefer working at the office rather than here at home. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him that she had to, and she particularly didn’t want to give him an opportunity to spend time with Kirk.

Before he left here, he’d make sure he changed her mind about him seeing Kirk. There was no way he could not be a part of his child’s life now. But he also knew now wasn’t the time to discuss this particular issue with her.

At that moment the object of his thoughts cried out. It was not a cry of distress or fear, rather it was a demand for attention.

Meghan finished the last of her coffee and stood. “Feel free to use the guest bathroom to shower or whatever,” she said, then she disappeared out of the kitchen.

Seth got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. He had all day to shower. In fact, he had a feeling the most difficult part of this entire ordeal was going to be sitting in this house doing nothing…waiting for Meghan to come up with the information he needed.

Seth wasn’t accustomed to doing nothing. He was a man who thrived on action, craved challenge. Hiding out in a house where nobody was home wasn’t very appealing, but at the moment it was his only option.

He walked over to the kitchen window and stared out, watching as the sun crested the horizon, shooting out tentative fingers of light.

It was going to be a beautiful, clear day. It was unusual for D.C. not to have snow by this time of the year. He was grateful there wasn’t any. Snow always reminded him of the months he’d spent married to Meghan.

Several weeks of his marriage to Meghan had encompassed the worst winter in D.C. on record, involving blizzard conditions and widespread power outages.

He and Meghan had spent several nights wrapped together in blankets in front of the fireplace, providing warmth for each other. They’d eaten canned pâté and crackers and read to one another by candlelight.

It had been a singular moment, a magical halt of reality when time had seemed to stop and the world outside their home had disappeared.

He turned away from the window in irritation. Damn the memories. They were the one thing he hadn’t considered when he’d made the decision to come here. And why such selective memory?

What he had to focus on was the fact that marriage to Meghan had required too high a price…the relinquishing of his very soul.

He turned as she reentered the kitchen, this time dressed for the day and with Kirk in her arms. With her hair neatly tied back at the nape of her neck and the wire-rimmed glasses firmly in place, she looked nothing like the sleepy-eyed seductress she had earlier.

“We’re off,” she said.

“But what about breakfast?” he asked, his gaze going from her to Kirk, who was clad in a turtleneck and a pair of corduroy overalls. “Even if you don’t eat, doesn’t he need something?”

“Grandma Harry will give him breakfast,” Meghan replied.

Kirk grinned. “Mama Harry,” he said.

“Harriet Winslowe at the Happy Time Day Care Center,” Meghan explained.

He trailed her from the kitchen to the living room, where she stopped at the hall closet and withdrew her coat and Kirk’s.

Seth leaned against the wall and watched as she placed Kirk on the floor and wrestled him into his coat and hat. Kirk laughed, as if it were a game to him, and Seth found a ridiculous grin decorating his own face at the sound of the childish giggles.

“Meghan,” he said as she put on her coat and picked Kirk up from the floor. “I know this whole situation is uncomfortable for you, but I do want you to know I appreciate it.”

She nodded and ducked her head, as if not wanting him to see whatever expression lit her eyes. “I’m usually home between five and six,” she said, then she opened the door and was gone, leaving Seth alone in the cold, empty house.

Uncomfortable. He’d said he knew the situation was uncomfortable for her. Meghan looked at her wristwatch and stifled a yawn. It was just a few minutes past seven in the morning and already she was exhausted.

She pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. Uncomfortable, that didn’t even begin to describe what she felt about Seth hiding out at her place.

He filled the entire house with his presence, invading her personal space with his scent, his very essence. He’d always seemed larger than life to her, more colorful, bolder, stronger than any other man she’d ever known.

Even sleeping, he’d bothered her, making her own sleep elusive. She’d tossed and turned, remembering the look on his face as he’d gazed at Kirk. She’d seen that same troubling expression on his face this morning when she’d walked into Kirk’s room and found him standing there.

Shoving the disturbing image aside, she put her glasses back on and eyed her computer screen thoughtfully. If she had a criminal mind and was in possession of seven hundred pounds of uncut heroin, if she wanted to undermine the standing of a secret government agency, where would she go to orchestrate her attack?

The possibilities were endless, the countries who would welcome a traitor and dissident vast. She wasn’t sure where to begin a search for the elusive Simon.

As part of her job, Meghan maintained identities in dozens of chat rooms. Rooms with white supremists, tax evaders, bomb builders and weird splinter religious groups. Meghan knew which groups were truly dangerous and which were merely a bunch of nuts with shared delusions.

But Simon wouldn’t show up in a chat room and announce his presence or hold a sale for the drug product. And, of course, it was also possible he’d never left the States and instead was someplace near.

The problem was, Meghan couldn’t hunt Simon. She didn’t have enough information to track him. She had to hunt down the drugs. It was the only way to get to the man.

For the next hour, Meghan pulled up newspapers from around the country, studying front page stories and crime beat columns to see if any one city was suffering a rise in crimes or deaths affiliated with heroin in the past three days.

The man the SPEAR agents were after had already proved himself more than dangerous. The agency had managed once before the L.A. debacle to intercede a large shipment of weapons intended for Simon. That time Simon had escaped empty-handed. But this time Simon had the means to buy more weapons, and Meghan knew the desire for the weapons and drugs he now possessed were the keys to finding his whereabouts.

There was also one other way to find out what was going on where Simon was concerned, but she didn’t want to use that access unless absolutely necessary. She could hack into the most sensitive, secured files in the SPEAR computer, but that avenue was highly risky and she’d only do it as a desperate last resort.

At quarter to eight, Mark breezed into the office, startled to find her already at her desk. “Ah, the early bird gets the worm,” he said. “Only in this case it should be the early bird gets the best doughnuts.” He placed a box of pastries on her desk as she clicked out of the Montana newspaper she’d been perusing.

“What are you doing here so early?” Mark asked as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree just inside the front door.

“I just got around earlier than usual this morning,” she said as she scooted her chair to his desk and opened the box of doughnuts. “Hmm, these look wonderful.” She grabbed a glazed one as the heavenly scent filled the office.

“It’s going to be a slow day,” Mark said as he went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of the brew. He then perched on the edge of his desk and grabbed one of the doughnuts from the box. “In fact, it’s going to be a slow week with the holidays coming up so fast.”

The holidays. Christmas.

Meghan had always hated the holidays…first as a child, then as an adult. And Christmas was the worst holiday of them all.

“I think I’ll spend the day putting up decorations outside,” Mark said thoughtfully. “I should have done it before now, but I just haven’t taken the time. Did you see the display in the window next door?”

Meghan nodded. The dry cleaners who shared the building with them had gone all out. A huge evergreen tree stood in their window, complete with sparkling lights and ornaments consisting of little doll clothes all glittered and sequined in traditional Christmas colors.

“Why bother putting stuff up?” Meghan said between bites. “You’ll just have to take it all down again.”

“Oh, do I sense a touch of Scrooge in my lovely colleague?” Mark raised a sandy eyebrow teasingly.

Meghan blushed and shrugged. “I just think there’s too much holiday hype.”

“I adore holiday hype. Have you taken Kirk to see Santa yet?”

“No way. He’s too young to be traumatized by a fat guy in a red suit.” Meghan popped the last of the doughnut into her mouth and daintily licked sugar from her fingers.

“Definitely a Scrooge,” Mark said with a grin.

She laughed and wheeled her chair back in front of her desk and clicked on her in-box, not surprised to find a dozen files waiting for her attention.

As a communications expert, her job entailed analyzing diplomatic communiqués, studying the language used in official speeches and various other materials, then writing detailed reports on what was said and what she believed was meant. Often the two were very different.

Mark finished his doughnut, then disappeared into the large storage closet. He returned carrying a large box filled with glittering garland, plastic evergreen boughs and giant candy canes. “I’ll be outside playing one of Santa’s elves if you need me,” he said.

A moment later Meghan once again found herself alone in the office. As much as she wanted to find the information Seth sought and get him out of her house, she knew she didn’t dare spend any more time on his problem right now. She needed to get to her own work so as not to rouse suspicion.

She worked for the next four hours, breaking only to refill her coffee mug and occasionally stand to stretch her muscles. Mark spent the time outside, wrestling with a ladder as he hung lights, garland and giant candy canes from the top of the building.

The door flew open just before noon and a delivery man walked in. He wore an apron that advertised Ling Choo Chinese Cuisine and carried a bag containing a half-dozen take-out cartons.

Mark must have ordered in, Meghan thought in delight. She pulled out her wallet, but the man waved it away, declaring it had already been taken care of.

When the delivery man left, she opened the cartons to find all her favorites…sweet and sour chicken, won ton soup and crab rangoon. There was also chicken chow mein, which she knew was Mark’s favorite.

“Hey, Chinese…great idea,” Mark said as he came in, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

“What do you mean? I thought you ordered it,” she replied.

“Not me…you didn’t?” Mark took off his coat and pulled his chair over next to hers.

She shook her head and frowned. “It must be a mistake. The delivery man must have gone to the wrong office or something. We’d better call them.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Mark said as he peered at the contents of the cartons. “Odd, isn’t it? Everything you like is here and everything I like is here. Was there anything else in the bag?”

“Just a couple of loose fortune cookies.” Meghan retrieved the plastic bag the food had arrived in. “Surely you don’t think…” She pulled out the two fortune cookies and looked at Mark expectantly.

Mark grinned and shook his head ruefully. “He’s been wily before. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s contacted us through take-out food.”

Meghan knew exactly who Mark was talking about. Jonah. Their elusive boss who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. Mark grabbed one of the fortune cookies, cracked it open and withdrew the fortune.

“Good fortune will smile on you. Lucky numbers are three, five and seven.” He looked up and smiled at Meghan. “Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket on the way home tonight.”

Meghan broke her cookie apart and pulled out the fortune. “A package has gone missing from the eagle’s nest. If contact is made, notify me.” It was signed with a familiar J. Meghan’s heart quickened.

Mark frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Seth.” She wondered if Mark could hear her heart thundering in her chest. It pounded so hard he must hear it. “He’s talking about Seth, who disappeared from the Condor two nights ago.”

Mark’s brows rose. “He did? How do you know about that?”

Meghan forced a dry smile. “I’m a communications expert, Mark. I know lots of things.”

To her relief, he seemed to accept her explanation at its face value. He picked up a set of chopsticks and grabbed the carton of chow mein. “I don’t think anyone has to worry about Seth contacting you. Not only do I remember the crime of the century, but I also remember your and Seth’s parting as the divorce of the century.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” Meghan set the note aside and tried to keep the nervous tremble of her hand under control.

“I wish somebody would send me to the Condor for about a month of rest and relaxation.” Mark stuck a mouthful of chow mein into his mouth. “I guess Seth isn’t into vacations.”

“I’m sure Jonah is just checking with all of Seth’s past acquaintances within the organization.” At least that’s what she hoped.

She drew in a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t like subterfuge of any kind. Damn Seth for getting her involved in this.

Still, she’d been with the agency long enough to know that this note from Jonah indicated a low-priority concern. If Jonah was truly troubled by Seth’s defection from the resort, he wouldn’t be contacting people with notes in food that could be easily tossed away. She would have received a phone call from the man himself.

She relaxed somewhat, certain that Jonah had no idea Seth was presently hiding out in her home. But the note from Jonah filled her with apprehension.

She had to find what Seth needed as quickly as possible. The last thing she’d want to happen was to lose her job because she’d chosen loyalty for a man she’d once believed she’d loved over loyalty to SPEAR.

She’d already lost enough to Seth…. She was determined not to lose anything else because of him.