Читать книгу Mommy Midwife - Cassie Miles, Cassie Miles - Страница 13

Chapter Four

After he’d ordered room service and Olivia had retreated to the bedroom to contact her parents, Troy used his secure cell phone to place a call to Gunnery Sergeant Blaine Nelson, who had recently taken Troy’s place as the leader for their seven-man special ops team.

Nelson answered his phone with a yawn. It was two hours later at Camp Lejeune on the North Carolina coast but still too early for Nelson to be asleep. Troy wasted no time with pleasantries. “I have a situation.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Wake up, Gunny. I need intel on the whereabouts of the terrorist cell, and I need it now.”

“Yes, sir, Captain Weathers, sir.”

Troy couldn’t help grinning at the overly formal form of address. “What are you trying to tell me, Nelson?”

“That you’re being a pain in the butt, sir.”

“Duly noted,” Troy said. “Give me an update.”

“Nothing’s changed since this morning when you left. We can’t pinpoint locations, but chatter indicates that they’re planning their attack in New York City.”

“I want you to trace any possible connection to Colorado. There’s been a threat.”

“No joke? Fill me in.” Nelson was now fully alert. He and Troy had worked together for eight years. They were more than associates, more than friends. They were as close as brothers. “What’s the nature of this threat?”

“Somebody’s after Olivia,” he said. “She’s had the feeling that she’s being watched. About an hour ago, an intruder broke into her cabin. It could be a kidnap attempt.”

“Do you think the guys we’ve been tracking are behind it?”

“I don’t know.”

Their code name for this terrorist group was Hatari, the Swahili word for danger, and they were based in Rwanda. Troy and his team had been responsible for capturing two of their leaders while they were investigating a totally unrelated issue in Africa. If the cell in the U.S. planned to grab Olivia, it could be meant as payback for Troy.

“You said they were tailing her,” Nelson said thoughtfully. “That doesn’t sound like Hatari.”

Troy agreed. The M.O. for these terrorists was anything but subtle. In their home country, they were responsible for wiping out villages, poisoning wells, burning fields and decimating entire families. They went in with guns blazing, operating under the premise that more firepower was better. If they wanted to threaten him using Olivia, they would have killed her.

But Colorado wasn’t their homeland. And the U.S. cell of Hatari was operating under a different set of priorities. They had hooked up with a man whose alias was Kruger—the name he’d used when he’d disappeared off the radar twenty-two years ago. Kruger was under such deep cover that he was nearly transparent. Though he’d lived in the United States, his current identity was unknown. He had no fingerprints on file. There were no existing photographs of him.

“Kruger could be running the show,” Troy said. “He might be inclined to pull a kidnapping and use Olivia to force my hand.”

“Wish we knew more about him. He’s a ghost, an old-school kind of spook.”

Similar to Olivia’s dad and mom. “I’ve got to go. Look into the Colorado angle and keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir.” Nelson yawned again.

“Missing your beauty sleep? It’s a little early for you to be hitting the sheets.”

“It would be...if I was sleeping alone.”

Troy grinned. “Carry on, Gunny.”

When Olivia made the call to her parents, it might be smart for him to talk to them, as well. Kruger was something of a legend in CIA circles, and her mom and dad had been part of that inner circle for years. They might have useful advice.

He crossed the sitting room and tapped on the closed bedroom door. “Is it okay for me to come in?”

“Sure thing.”

He pushed open the door and stopped dead in his tracks. She’d changed from her hospital scrubs to a long, cream-colored, cotton nightgown with lace and satin ribbons around a neckline that was low enough to showcase her full breasts. The light fabric draped gently over her rounded body. Her golden hair cascaded around her shoulders. She looked like a goddess.

“I thought I’d get changed,” she said, “before I made the phone call.”

Struck dumb by the abundance of her beauty, he could only stare and nod. This was his woman. She was carrying his child.

She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing.” He swallowed hard. “You’re stunning.”

“No need to worry,” she joked. “I promise not to knock you over with my giant belly.”

“I like the bulge. I like the whole package.”

“It’s a pretty nightgown. It was a gift from one of my baby showers. I’ve had four. I guess that’s a benefit of being a midwife. Most of the people I know have recently given birth.” She swept across the room, majestic as the QEII. At the desk near the window, she picked up her cell phone. “I should probably make this call.”

“When you’re done, I’d like to speak with your dad.”

“Why?”

If circumstances had been different, he would have met her father before he’d asked for her hand in marriage. “The terrorist cell my team is investigating has a CIA crossover. Your dad might have intel I can use.”

“Let me get this straight. You want to talk to my dad about spy stuff?”

“He’s a source.”

“I hadn’t planned for you to meet my family.” She lowered herself into a padded chair beside the desk. “Certainly not like this.”

Though he’d prefer to keep his phone conversation with her father on the level of an intelligence briefing, they couldn’t ignore the personal. He and Richard Laughton had more in common than their occupations. “How much have you told them about me?”

Avoiding his gaze, she stared at the phone in her hand. “They know that you proposed and that I turned you down.”

“Did you give them a reason?”

“I tried.” She shook her head. “I told them pretty much the same thing I told you. You’re a great guy, but we don’t have a relationship. And I’m not interested in being married to someone who’s always traveling and putting himself in danger on a regular basis.”

“What if my career was different?”

She shot him a questioning glance. “Different in what way?”

“What if I wasn’t in the field?”

“But you love your work.” She rose to her feet and stalked toward him. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve resigned from special ops.”

He gave her a weak grin. “Surprise.”

“No way. I won’t let you quit doing something you love because of me and the baby. That’s the worst way to start a relationship. You’d blame me for ruining your life.”

He hadn’t been expecting her to turn handsprings, but he didn’t think she’d be outright hostile. Damn it, this was his decision. His life. “You know, Olivia, not everything is about you.”

A knock at the front door to their suite interrupted any further explanation. A voice called out, “Room service.”

Before he left the bedroom, Troy drew his gun. “I’ll deal with this. You stay here and make your phone call.”

He went to the door and cautiously eased it open. The same bellman who’d carried their suitcases to the suite stood outside with a cart. While Troy watched and kept his weapon hidden behind his back, the young man wheeled into the room and unloaded the plates onto a round table.

Hoping to pick up information, Troy commented, “This must be off-season for the lodge. Are many people staying here?”

“There’s a lot more when the ski slopes are open, but you’d be surprised. We get golfers, hikers, mountain bike riders and people who are up here for river rafting.”

There wasn’t a clever way to ask if the bellman had seen possible Hatari terrorists or a spy named Kruger from the last century. “Mostly families?”

“That’s right. And we’ve got a wedding party coming in tomorrow for the weekend.”

Troy gave him a generous tip before he locked the door and shoved a chair in front of it. If he’d been in the field, he never would have tasted food that hadn’t been prepared in his sight, but he had no reason to believe Olivia’s intruders had followed them to the hotel. He would have noticed a tail.

She emerged from the bedroom. “I talked to my sister and warned her about a possible threat. After she told me I was nuts, she reminded me that her house has an excellent alarm system. They’ll be safe.”

He held out his hand for the phone. “Can I talk to your father?”

“Mom and Dad are asleep. They were exhausted after the flight from Cairo, and my sister didn’t want to wake them.”

“I guess I’ll have to wait.” He was a patient man, almost to a fault. Patience and persistence were useful traits in his business, but Olivia was straining his reserves. She had a real talent for driving him to the edge and making him want to jump.

He went to the table and lifted the lids off their separate dinners. Pan-fried trout for her. A T-bone steak for him.

As she took her place, she gazed across the table with a guarded expression. “You said the decision to change your career wasn’t about me.”

“Correct.” He sliced into his steak, cut off a chunk and stuffed it into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk. The consequences of his decision were still painful, and he knew better than to look toward her for understanding.

“I’m listening,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s time for a change.”

“Is this a military thing? Some kind of requirement?”

“The T-bone’s great. How’s the fish?”

“Delicious.” She poured water from a carafe into her glass and took a sip. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“I thought pregnant women were always eating for two.”

“Oh, I’ve done plenty of that. I’ve packed on thirty-three pounds, probably more than that. I quit weighing myself two days ago.” She picked up her fork. “And you’re changing the subject. I want to know about your career.”

Telling her about the career change was one of the reasons he’d come to Colorado. He was looking at a change in his life that might affect the way she felt about him. From the first time he’d proposed, she had made it crystal clear that she didn’t want to be married to a man whose occupation was full of danger and uncertainty. Now that he knew more about her family history, he had a greater understanding of that fear. But he still wouldn’t have quit if he hadn’t been ready to make the change. As it turned out, the timing was right for him to settle into a different phase of life.

He wanted a home.

He wanted to be a father—a real father, not a part-time visitor.

All he had to do was convince Olivia. It was a risky proposition. If he told her and she still rejected him, he’d know that her reason for avoiding a relationship with him wasn’t just his job. She’d be saying no because she didn’t like him.

“I’m thirty-six years old,” he said. “For somebody who does my kind of work, that’s over-the-hill. My reflexes aren’t as fast. My aim isn’t as sharp as it used to be.”

“It sounds like you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Since he was coming clean, he might as well let her know everything. He left the table and went to his duffel. From a front pocket, he removed a case, took out a pair of silver-rimmed eyeglasses and stuck them on his nose. Wearing them was an admission of declining vision, but it was nice to be able to see the food on the plate. “Right now, I just need them for up close. My long-range vision is okay.”

“I like the glasses,” she said. “They make you look smart.”

He winced. “And it’s well-known that a high IQ strikes terror in the hearts of bad guys.”

“Is that what you want? To strike terror?”

He shook his head. “I’m still in better shape than ninety percent of the guys out there. That’s not my point. I need to be the best, the fastest, the sharpest. Otherwise, I could be putting my men in danger.”

“This must be hard for you,” she said. “Will you miss the action?”

He thought for a moment before responding. “In spite of what you might think, I’m not an adrenaline junkie. I don’t get a thrill from putting my life on the line. My proudest accomplishment as a leader is that I’ve never lost a man, not a single one in fourteen years. I’m happy to quit while I’m still ahead.”

When he looked across the table and met her gaze, he noticed a glow that he’d never seen before. Approval? She smiled gently. “What will you do now?”

“I could continue to go along with my men in a supervisory position, staying behind the lines and giving orders. Or I could opt for a training position at Camp Lejeune. I’d rather be a trainer.”

“A desk job?”

“Hell, no. I couldn’t handle that. I’ll have some time on the training courses and some in the classroom.”

As her smile grew brighter, her blue eyes glimmered. Definite approval. He felt like he’d won the lottery. Her voice was warm. “You’ll be a good teacher.”

“Why do you think so? Is it the glasses?”

“You’ve got the patience for it.” She lifted a forkful of green veggies to her mouth. “You’ve been able to put up with me for all these months. And I can be pretty stubborn.”

“Like a mule.”

“But you never gave up,” she said. “Even though I said no, you asked again and again and again and—”

“You liked it,” he interrupted. “On some level, you liked that I sent flowers for your birthday. You always thanked me.”

“Just being polite.”

He knew it was more than that, but he didn’t push. This dinner was going well. The food was good, and conversation was beginning to come more easily. She talked about what she wanted to do after the baby was born, and they discovered a common interest in rock climbing. He mentioned his interest in historical books and biographies, especially those of presidents and statesmen.

“Do you like politics?” she asked.

“It’s not the politics,” he said. “It’s the strategy that goes into decision making. What do you read?”

“Fiction, all kinds except espionage for obvious reasons. I’ve been into vampires for a while, but that’s not the best kind of book to be reading while I’m sitting with a mom in labor. It’s a little too gory.” She leaned back in her chair, rested her hands on her bulge and grinned. “This is nice.”

“We haven’t spent a lot of time like this...just talking.”

“Well, we only had two quickie dates before I showed up on your doorstep and pounced.”

Things would have been different if they’d gone through a regular courtship. He doubted the outcome would have been the same. From the first time they’d met, there had been physical chemistry, but there had also been logistical obstacles with his international assignments and her mountain lifestyle. There might have been a couple more dates, but they didn’t really have a lot in common—not until she’d pounced.

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up. A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. “My sister.”

“Answer it.”

She talked for half a minute. Her frown deepened.

Thrusting the phone toward him, she said, “It’s my dad.”

Reluctantly, Troy took the call. His relationship with Olivia had progressed more in the past forty-five minutes than it had in eight months. They were enjoying each other’s company, growing accustomed to each other.

He was pretty sure that talking to Richard Laughton would change the situation.