Читать книгу Colby Conspiracy - Debra Webb - Страница 10

THE STICK turned pink.

A surge of giddiness attacked Tasha North.

She was pregnant!

She and Jim were going to have a baby!

The idea of what a grandchild would mean to Victoria sent another thrill through Tasha. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone.

“Come on, North, you can’t expect me to believe you haven’t missed your work at the CIA.”

Tasha blinked and lugged her thoughts back to the here and now. “I’m sorry, Martin. What did you say?”

Martin, decked out in his typical uniform—an elegant designer suit—for schmoozing, stared, exasperated, at her from across the linen-draped table. “I fly all the way from D.C. to Chicago, bring you to one of the ritziest restaurants in town and I still don’t warrant your full attention.”

She smiled, tamped down her excitement and focused her attention on the man who had been her mentor in the CIA and who, as he so bluntly put it, had gone to all of this trouble in an attempt to lure her back to the Agency.

“I apologize, Martin.” She sighed. She couldn’t tell him the real reason for her distraction. “I’m just a little preoccupied.” Lord, what an understatement. As she’d gotten dressed this evening for his unexpected visit, she’d considered that a new wardrobe would be in order. Her tight little skirts, the ones Jim loved so much, and formfitting blouses would have to be traded in for something more readily expandable.

Another wave of giddiness washed over her.

Okay, she told herself, stay calm. It was all she could do not to float right up out of her chair. She couldn’t wait to tell Jim.

She glanced around the crowded restaurant. Martin was right. He’d brought her to Carmine’s, a very classy Italian restaurant filled with Chicago’s social elite. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she didn’t appreciate the gesture, however wasted it was.

“The CIA misses your talent,” he went on, moving past the awkward moment and diving straight into the heart of the matter. “You’ve only worked part-time for the Colby Agency this past year, desk work at that. Don’t you miss doing field work? Getting deep into the game?”

Truth was, she had gone on only one mission into the field, period, and that hadn’t even been for the CIA. Apparently Martin had forgotten that little detail. Lucas Camp had recruited her—stolen her from the CIA, actually—and sent her on a mission that would forever change her life.

That’s how she’d met her fiancé…the father of her child…the man she loved with her entire being. James Colby, Junior. Jim. The man who’d stolen her heart even before she’d known his true identity.

“Martin,” she said with genuine sincerity, “you will always be very special to me. But I won’t be coming back to the CIA.” Surely after a year, he should have come to terms with that reality. Her life was here now. She had no intention of giving up one moment of her time with Jim. Happiness bloomed in her chest all over again. She and Jim were pregnant! And in just a few weeks, they would be married. Her heart fluttered.

Her life was perfect. All that she’d dreamed of was coming true.

Martin sat back in his chair and heaved a disgusted sigh. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

She shook her head, feeling too incredibly blissful to be depressed by his blatant discontent with her decision. “Sorry, but this is what I want to do. I hope you can understand that.”

He exhaled another of those impatient breaths. “I suppose, deep down, I suspected this would be your answer.”

Tasha studied her longtime friend and mentor. Same dark hair and handsome mug that kept the new female recruits mesmerized, but there was something more in his eyes now, something she couldn’t quite read. Her gaze narrowed with an abrupt surge of suspicion.

“What’re you up to, Martin?” She remembered that final test he’d put her through last year before pronouncing her field worthy, knew exactly what this powerful man was capable of.

A grin slanted across his face. He reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and drew out an envelope. Plain, white. “You’re getting cynical on me, North.” He offered the envelope to her. “This is for you,” he said mysteriously.

Her uneasiness showing, Tasha accepted the envelope. “What’s this about?” The size and shape was consistent with that of a typical birthday card, but it wasn’t her birthday.

He nodded to the seemingly innocuous envelope. “Just open it.”

Dividing her attention between him and the envelope, she pulled loose the flap and reached inside. It was a card. She read the words embellishing the front and her heart leapt. Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.

He’d heard the news.

“Martin, you’re such a shit. You really had me thinking you were going to be upset if I didn’t come back to the CIA.” She clutched the card to her chest and smiled at him, tears burning in her eyes. God, she would not cry in front of him. He’d never let her live it down. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? You’re very special to me, North.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft and genuine. “I want you to be happy, even if it means you won’t ever be coming back to the Agency.” He gestured to the card once more. “Now, look inside.”

Confused, she opened the card and her mouth gaped at what it contained. A voucher for an all-expenses-paid, two-week honeymoon in Europe from a renowned travel agency here in Chicago. When she’d found her voice, she blurted, “Martin, this is too much! I can’t accept this.”

He winked. “Sure you can. You just tell Lucas Camp that he might have stolen you from me, but you still love me the best.” His lips tilted into that lopsided grin again. “Let’s see that old bastard top this.”

Tasha couldn’t help herself. She had to scoot from her seat and rush around the table to give him a hug. She did love him. He would always hold a special place in her heart, as well as her life.

AS THE TAXI traveled east on Division Street, Tasha barely contained the urge to dial Jim right then on her cell phone and give him the news. She shivered at the idea of how deliriously happy she knew he would be. She resisted the impulse. This was too important to do over the phone. It had to be done in person.

Jim had come so far the last few months. He had made great strides in coming to terms with the atrocities that had been done to him after he’d been kidnapped from his family at age seven. He’d progressed to the point of what most people would say was normal. Anyone who met him now would never suspect that just a year ago, he’d been a cold-blooded killer for hire. His primary mission in life had been to assassinate his own mother, whom he thought had abandoned him.

Tasha shuddered at the memories of just how ruthless the alter ego Seth had been. Jim Colby had been buried so deeply under that evil persona that reaching him had been almost impossible. Somehow, she had managed to do just that. Seth had grabbed on to what she’d offered—her heart and soul—and slowly but surely Jim Colby had resurfaced—been reborn.

She would be lying if she didn’t admit that there had been some aspects of Seth that had intrigued her—still did—but he was gone for good, and it was for the best. Her life with Jim was worth every moment of pain and uncertainty she’d endured with Seth.

No. There was no way she would ever go back to the CIA or anywhere else. Jim was her life now. Jim and the baby. She was perfectly content doing research for the Colby Agency on a part-time basis. She no longer felt that burning desire to prove herself or to make her mark among the superspies of the world. This was her life, and she adored every minute of every hour.

Being plain old Tasha North—soon to be Tasha Colby—fulfilled her every desire.

She’d fought the fight of her life and won, had walked away with the kind of love few ever found, and now they were about to move onto the next level…marriage and a family. The latter was a little sooner than expected, but she was definitely up to the challenge. The thought of carrying Jim’s child made her tremble with anticipation. She pressed her hand to her flat belly, closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Jim would be thrilled!

When the taxi reached her street in Old Town, Tasha dug out the fare and a nice tip. She looked up at the Queen Anne row house that she and Jim shared, a present from his mother, Victoria Colby-Camp. She loved the house. It was perfect. But Tasha hadn’t mentioned to Martin how she and Jim had gotten their cozy home. As much as she appreciated his wonderful gift, Victoria had cornered the market on gift giving. She had spent the last year trying to make up to her son for all they’d missed since his abduction nearly nineteen years ago.

Tasha hopped out of the cab and strolled up the walk to her door. She inhaled deeply of the night air, enjoying the clean scent of the recent rain that still lingered. She hesitated before unlocking the door and surveyed the sky and the stars that had peeked from behind the clouds. She wanted to remember everything about this night. Wanted it to hold a special place among the memories she and Jim were making together.

Another rush of pulse-tripping anticipation launched her back into gear. She couldn’t wait another second. She had to tell him the news.

No sooner had the key turned in the lock than the knob was twisted out of her hand and the door jerked open.

Harsh fingers dug into her forearm and hauled her inside.

Before she had a chance to react to the stab of fear a lethal masculine voice demanded, “Where have you been?”

Even in the dark, even with her heart pounding like a drum, Tasha recognized that voice—felt the malice in it penetrate all the way to the very depths of her soul.

Seth.

“Jim.” She reached through the darkness, tried to touch him. What could have brought about this relapse? Something had to have happened to—

He slammed her against the wall. “I said,” he snarled, “where the hell have you been?”

Tasha’s body started to quake. She struggled to steel herself against the fear and worry running rampant inside her. “I’ve been to dinner,” she said calmly. “You knew—”

“So you just take off?”

His face was pressed so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, could smell the liquor. Jim never drank, not anymore. The doctors had warned it might destabilize his condition.

Renewed fear raced through her veins. One doctor in particular had warned that Jim was still vulnerable, that a break from reality could occur unless strict precautions were taken to insulate him from the slightest stress. But he had been okay for months. He was well…happy…he was Jim, the man she loved.

The baby. Oh, God. Hurt knotted inside her. Please, God, not now. Don’t let him regress. Her thoughts whirled frantically, futilely. There had to be something she could do to stop this…to bring him back…

“Jim, please, tell me what’s happened?” She hated the quiver in her voice, the desperation. He’d been through too much already. It just wasn’t fair for him to spiral back into that abyss all over again. Not now, after he’d come so very far.

“Shut up and take off your clothes,” he commanded savagely. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Tasha froze, considered her options. Did she play along and hope he snapped out of whatever the hell this was, or did she fight back? Not now. Not knowing that she was pregnant.

“Jim, let me call your doctor,” she pleaded, praying she would somehow get through to him.

“Stop calling me that,” he warned, his muscular body pinning her to the wall. “Little Jimmy died a long time ago,” he taunted cruelly. “Now stop stalling.”

He wanted sex. Okay, she could play along. Surely he would snap out of this.

Drawing in a steadying breath, she reached toward the top button of her blouse. Her fingers shook before she could stem the reaction.

“You’re too slow,” he growled, then ripped open her blouse.

She bit down on her lower lip to hold back a gasp.

“Hmmm,” he breathed. “You smell so sweet.” He licked a trail down her throat and across her shoulder. She shivered, couldn’t help herself. “You like that?” He breathed the words on her damp skin.

“Please, Jim, let’s just talk,” she begged, suddenly fearing that he would take this too far… Damn, she didn’t know what to expect.

But she had to protect the baby.

His hand closed brutally over her breast and Tasha knew exactly what she had to do.

She went limp in his arms, surrendered completely. His full attention was focused on the breast he’d revealed. His mouth landed there and she made a sound of encouragement. As he kissed his way back up to her throat she rammed her fist into his unsuspecting gut.

He staggered back, doubled over.

Acting on pure instinct now, she landed a kick to the side of his head, forcing him to the floor. Then she made a run for it.

At the same instant that her fingers curled around the doorknob, his manacled around her ankle, closing like a vise.

She screamed, grabbed at the door even as he pulled her away from it.

He was too fast, too strong.

He yanked hard. She fell forward onto the hardwood floor. As he dragged her to him she kicked hard with her free leg and landed a blow to his jaw.

He swore and flung his full weight down on top of her. She grunted at the impact. His right hand clamped around her throat.

“Don’t move,” he growled between clenched teeth.

Tasha stilled. Her breath raged in and out of her lungs, barely hissing past the hold he had on her throat. Part of her screamed inside, urged her to keep fighting, but another part feared for the baby. She couldn’t afford to antagonize him any further. He was too strong.

His fingers all but cut off her airway. He used his right hand to shove her skirt up her thighs. Then he spread her legs and burrowed his way fully between them. His mouth came down on top of hers hard.

She felt him wrench open his jeans. Felt his thick sex spring free and prod against her panties. She closed her eyes and tried to lie still, told herself it would be better this way. Don’t give him any reason to hurt you.

He tore away her panties and shoved into her in one brutal plunge.

She caught her breath, winced against the pleasure of feeling the man she loved inside her and at the same time fearing the demon driving him.

“Now that’s more like it,” he said silkily, tauntingly. He flexed his hips, driving deeper. He kissed her lips, then her jaw. She shivered, afraid to guess what he might do next.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pretend that this was only a nightmare. It couldn’t be real…couldn’t be happening. Not now. Tears seeped past her tightly clenched lids, but she couldn’t hope to stop them.

His lips encountered those salty tears and he stilled.

He drew back from her then and though she couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, she felt the change in his body—the sudden, jagged turn his respiration had taken, the slight tremble of his hands as his grip loosened.

“Oh, God.” The words tore out of his throat on a wounded moan of agony.

He scrambled off her, pulled her onto his lap. “What’ve I done?” He ran his hands over her purposefully, hurriedly, as if searching for injury. “Did I hurt you? God, please tell me I didn’t hurt you, Tasha.”

“I’m all right,” she managed to say, pushing past the emotion lodged in her throat. “I’m okay.”

He cradled her in his arms for a long while. Tasha couldn’t say how long. He kept telling her over and over how sorry he was. How he hadn’t meant to hurt her. And then he carried her to the bathroom and bathed her gently in the deep claw-footed tub. He smoothed the washcloth over her skin lovingly in an attempt to soothe the hurt.

Tasha watched him, her heart too damaged to question the sudden reversal. But her eyes saw clearly the price he’d paid for the lapse.

She only knew that he was behaving like Jim now. Inside, she cried, both thankful and scared out of her mind. Because no matter what her eyes saw, no matter what her ears told her as the man she loved attended to her needs, begged for her forgiveness, nothing he did or said would change the cold, hard truth.

Seth was back.