Читать книгу Mountain Retreat - Cassie Miles, Cassie Miles - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Nick folded his arms around her and held her in a warm embrace. Tucking her head beneath his chin, Sidney gasped, trying to suck oxygen into lungs that felt paralyzed. She was frozen in time. Her world had stopped spinning.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“I know.”

She desperately wanted to kiss him, but she was afraid to look into his eyes again. What if he’d changed? What if he was no longer the Nick she’d built her life around? She needed reassurance, needed to know that this was her Nick, her fiancé, her lover.

“They told me it was better to wait,” he whispered in her ear. “They said it would be easier for you.”

“They were wrong.”

And he should have known that. He should have realized how much she had needed to know that he was safe. Every moment he’d been missing, she had feared the worst.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t say that.” It wasn’t right for him to apologize. He’d been through hell. “It’s not your fault.”

“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Forgive me, Sidney.”

A burst of anger shattered her fear. Her blood surged. Her muscles tensed. She pushed away from him, whirled and stalked into the office to face the CIA agents, who had been joined by Phillips. “I blame them.”

Special Agent Hawthorne had lied to her only minutes ago. The woman was a monster. If Sidney truly had been a lioness, she would have pounced on the skinny agent, thrown her to the carpet and torn out her throat. Why had they kept Nick from her? What was their plan?

She didn’t really care, didn’t want to know. She’d happily leave spying to the professionals. All that mattered was Nick. He was alive. Everything else was water under the bridge.

“We’re leaving now,” she informed them. “Nick and I are leaving. Together.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Hawthorne said. “Nick will be staying in a safe house until after the visit from Hurtado and his wife.”

“Is he in danger?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.” Hawthorne’s tone was brisk. “Captain Corelli is a marine. He has his orders.”

“Ma’am.” A man with a thick neck and a body builder’s shoulders stepped forward and shook Sidney’s hand. “I’m Lieutenant Randall Butler. I want you to know that we appreciate what you’ve gone through.”

“Is that so?” Anger pumped molten lava through her veins. “You knew he was safe. I should have been informed.”

“Marine Intelligence has been working with the CIA on this mission. Special Agent Hawthorne is taking the lead.”

In spite of her searing fury, she understood what he was saying. “It was Hawthorne’s decision to keep me uninformed. Why?”

Hawthorne unbuttoned the black jacket of her severe pantsuit and leaned against the edge of her desk. The plain office suited her dull, uncluttered personality. The bookshelves were arranged in order, a few diplomas—including one from Harvard—hung on the walls, and nothing seemed out of place.

Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Part of my job is to assess your psychological profile. Though you’re an intelligent woman who is capable of logic—”

“An engineer,” Sidney said. “It doesn’t get much more logical than that.”

“Your behavior—especially when it pertains to your fiancé—is highly irrational. Therefore, I concluded that you would not be brought into the loop until after Captain Corelli’s assignment is over.”

Clenching her jaw to keep from screaming, Sidney replied, “I resent your assumptions.”

“They aren’t meant as criticism.” Hawthorne arched an eyebrow. “It’s clear that you care so much about Captain Corelli that you aren’t capable of behaving in a dispassionate manner.”

No one had ever accused Sidney of being too passionate. Her engineering work put her in contact with all-male crews who never showed emotion, and Nick was the only man she’d ever had a serious, long-term relationship with. In her twenty-eight years, there had been two other men she’d fallen for, but she had ultimately ended things with them.

Sidney wasn’t going to waste time arguing with Hawthorne, who thought she was doing the right thing. Instead, she pointed out the obvious. “The situation has changed.”

“Yes, it has.” Hawthorne scowled.

“Keeping me in the dark is no longer an option. I’m here. What are you going to do about it?”

“You leave me no choice but to take you into protective custody.”

“You’re arresting me?”

“There’s no need to be melodramatic. The only restriction is that you won’t be allowed to talk to anyone. You’ll be kept in comfortable accommodations, and it will only be for about a week.”

Overwhelmed by rage, she saw red. “You can’t do that.”

“Actually, I can.”

“What about my work?”

“We’ll handle it,” Hawthorne said. “This is inconvenient for all of us. It would have been easier if you’d just stayed in the interrogation room.” She shot an accusing glance toward Phillips.

“Don’t blame him,” Sidney said. “After I saw the photos you took in the rebel camp, I took off running. I had a question for you.”

“Go ahead and ask.”

“I wanted to know if you’d seen my fiancé.” She turned toward Nick, who had remained silent throughout this exchange. “The answer is obvious.”

He came toward her and slipped his arm around her waist, a familiar gesture. Leaning against his chest, she was more comfortable than she’d been in half a year. Their bodies fit together so nicely.

His deep voice rumbled. “There’s no reason for Sidney to be detained. She doesn’t know anything about my assignment, except that I’m back in town. Hurtado and the rebels are aware of that fact.”

“I don’t want her talking to anyone.”

“A simple instruction,” Nick said. “She can handle it.”

“Unacceptable,” Hawthorne said. “I don’t believe she can be trusted. She’s a civilian.”

“Which is why you can’t take her into custody against her will,” Nick said. “You’re right about me. I’m obligated to follow orders. But Sidney wants to be home.”

She appreciated the way he was taking care of her, putting her comfort ahead of his own. She tilted her head back so she could see him. “I haven’t done much with the house.”

Before he’d left, they’d purchased a bungalow together. She had intended to use the time while he was on deployment to do some decorating, but when he’d gone missing, she couldn’t bear to make any new purchases. Cardboard boxes still packed with their belongings were stacked in every room of the house. In spite of a lovely walk-in closet, she was living out of a suitcase.

“I’ve been dreaming about our house,” he whispered, “coming home and finding you waiting for me in the bedroom.”

The tone of his voice hit precisely the right chords inside her. His words were music that touched her soul. She knew there was only one way she could be certain that everything was all right between them. She needed to kiss him.

“Try to understand,” the lieutenant said. “The CIA is running this show. We need to do all we can to help them.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said, “and I’m not refusing. But I want Sidney to be comfortable. She’s been through enough.”

“I agree,” the lieutenant said. “It’s important to be sensitive to the needs of the family.”

“What if she’s in danger?” Phillips asked. “The rebels could kidnap her and use her to influence you.”

“If that’s true,” Nick said, “why wasn’t she under protection before?”

She listened with half an ear to their discussion. The rest of her mind focused on one goal: kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. If she could feel his lips on hers and know their relationship was okay, she could handle anything.

Special Agent Hawthorne stomped around her desk and took a position behind it. The only overt signs of her anger were the flaring of her nostrils and a sharp gleam in her flinty eyes. Her voice was low, monotone. “I will agree to send Ms. Parker home while Captain Corelli stays in protective custody. There will be no communication between them unless it’s cleared through me. Phillips will accompany her and keep an eye on her. Is that satisfactory?”

“It works for me,” Nick said.

“And for me,” she said.

She shifted her position within his embrace, turned toward him and tilted her head upward. Her eyelids closed, and her lips parted. The office wasn’t an appropriate place for their first kiss, but she couldn’t take the chance that Hawthorne would tear Nick away from her.

When his mouth joined with hers, a sweet rush of warmth spread through her body. His lips were firm. His taste always reminded her of honeysuckle. His scent was a pine forest after a rain. He held her with a perfect balance of strength and gentleness.

Even on a bummer day when he wasn’t in the mood, Nick was the most irresistible kisser she’d ever known. Though his lips pressed against hers and invited her to respond, he seemed...detached. This kiss wasn’t exactly right.

Silently, she cursed her eidetic memory that had recorded every nuance of their lovemaking in indelible detail. She missed the light scrape of his teeth against her lower lip, the quick stroke of his tongue and the fire.

Embarrassed, she pulled away. What had she been expecting? He certainly wasn’t going to give her the kind of kiss she wanted while standing in an office surrounded by intelligence agents. This was no basis for judgment.

* * *

IN THE BACKSEAT of an unmarked SUV, Sidney sat beside Nick on their way to drop her off at their house. An agent she’d never met before was driving, and Phillips sat beside him in the passenger seat.

“Special Agent Phillips,” she said, leaning forward to speak to him. “Thank you.”

“It didn’t feel right to keep you in the dark,” he said. “I’m surprised y’all got Hawthorne to make a concession.”

“She’s a hard nut to crack.”

“Just doing her job,” Phillips drawled.

Though wearing her seat belt, her shoulder rubbed against Nick’s and her naked thigh grazed the fabric of his trousers. She could feel him watching her.

“Interesting outfit,” he said, “I never thought you went in for gingham.”

“I have a new job at the Silver Star Saloon, night shift.”

“Why?”

“It’s kind of fun,” she said, avoiding the sad truth. “The place is a microbrewery with ninety-nine different brands of beer, and I like to take big orders and show off by remembering every last one of them.”

“You wanted to keep yourself busy,” he said. “My God, Sidney, I’m so damn sorry.”

There were so many things she wanted to know but was afraid to talk about. What had happened to him while he was held captive? Was he hurt? How was he rescued? Instead, she kept the topic light.

“I should warn you about the house.” Quickly, she glanced up at him and then looked away. His nearness was also having a sensual effect on her. Did she dare to try another kiss? “I haven’t done much with it, with the house.”

“But you had such big plans for decorating.”

“I wanted you to help me make up my mind. I haven’t even painted the disgusting turquoise in the kitchen.”

“What colors are you thinking about?”

Decisions that had seemed impossible yesterday became clear. “I like a soft beige with dark gold and brown granite countertops.”

“And in the bedroom?”

“Blue,” she said.

“Like the Colorado skies you grew up with.”

He knew her so well. At this time of the year, in early November, they usually took a ski vacation in Colorado, where her parents had a vacation cabin. “I don’t mind Austin, but I love my mountains.”

“Tell me about this bar where you’re working.”

“Should I recite the ninety-nine varieties of beer?”

“Please don’t.”

Their conversation was cozy and natural and deliberately avoided dangerous topics. She felt as if she was walking through a minefield. They talked until they pulled up to the curb outside the one-story, redbrick bungalow with shrubs under the windows and a live oak in the front yard. The grass was a little raggedy in winter.

“It’s even cuter than I remembered,” Nick said as he unfastened his seat belt.

“Whoa,” Phillips said. “My orders are for you to stay in the vehicle while I escort Sidney inside.”

“You’re going to have to hog-tie me to keep me from going into my own house.” Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Hand in hand, they walked up the sidewalk together. Being separated from him again would be hard, but she was willing to put up with a few days now that she knew he was safe. “You’ll call me, won’t you?”

“Every day.”

“I wish you could stay here.”

“Me, too.”

She noticed that the porch lamp was dark. She thought she’d turned it on before she’d left for work. The bulb must have burned out. But there were two bulbs in the fixture. What were the odds of both burning out at the same time? “I must have forgotten to turn on the porch lamp.”

As she reached toward the lock with her key, the front door yanked inward. A barrage of gunfire erupted.