Читать книгу Another Side Of Midnight - Mia Zachary - Страница 13

A Matter of Trust

“YOU CAN GO, TOO.”

Stella pierced Stone with a green-brown glare, angling her head toward the front door. Then she turned on her heel so swiftly that her braided hair swung in an arc. Cameron admired the sway of her bum before following her down the passageway. With little effort, he recalled the satin feel of her bare skin and the sinuous muscle beneath it.

He glanced about, registering the agency’s layout and exits from habit. He walked into the last office just as she went round the desk, set her meal down and flung herself into the chair. He studied her, replacing memory with reality. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing with wide hazel eyes beneath straight brows, a classic nose and a full mouth that begged a man to kiss it.

And that bloody shiner. The anger had hit him out of nowhere, as if he could feel the impact of that fist against her cheek… He’d seen quite a few people die over the years, some of them by his own hand. And yet the sight of her barely concealed bruising made him ill.

He forced his gaze away, schooling his expression to mask the sudden rush of feeling. Looking around, he made note of the motorbike helmet, technical books and utilitarian blinds along with the watercolor canvasses, delicate glass paperweights and flowering plants.

“You’re just as intriguing as I recalled.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Stone. Why are you still here?”

He hated having his back to the door, but he took the visitor seat, gingerly crossing his left ankle over his damaged knee. “As I said before, we need to talk.”

“So talk.” She flung up her arms in resignation before opening the polystyrene container. The room filled with the scent of grilled chicken, garam masala and lemon.

He nodded toward her food. “I don’t suppose you’re sharing that?”

“No.” She took an exaggerated bite, closing her eyes and humming with gusto. “Why did you come back?”

He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t possibly explain how he’d left the Bellagio with the oddest sensation of the light going out of the room. He hadn’t much experience with light. A relationship was something he never thought he’d have. In his line of work truth and true emotions weren’t to be allowed. No ties to hold him back, no assets to compromise him.

Yet there was something about Stella. For the first time in years, he’d felt…

He’d begun making arrangements while waiting in the Vegas airport’s international terminal for his flight to Bogotá. He hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place. But Nick Anson, head of the Nighthawks, had needed him and the job had been one he couldn’t refuse. A matter of a life or painful death.

Unfortunately it had taken longer to come to the final end of things than anticipated. He, Ice, Loco Vaquero and Blueman had spent miserable weeks in the jungle dealing with the Liberation Front rebels. The ordeal had only strengthened his resolve to return to Stella. He’d begun several times to ring her up, but even so he’d known an impersonal call wouldn’t do.

He’d wanted—no, he’d needed—to see her again. “I’m here for a job… Among other things.”

“Uh-huh. Obviously I missed something before. What exactly is it you do?”

“I…” Cameron smiled briefly. “Eliminate problems.” She laughed at his careful phrasing. “What, you’re some kind of enforcer for the Scotch mafia?”

“Scottish, actually. Scotch is something you drink. But, no.” He dropped his foot back to the floor. “I’m a risk management specialist, mostly negotiations and recoveries.”

She set her fork down with a snap. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an insurance agent. They usually don’t disappear in the middle of the night.”

Cameron knew what she wanted and he resisted giving it. He was very much his own man, had been since having to leave the Special Air Service behind. There had been other women, of course, but he’d made the rules clear from the start. He’d come and gone as he damned well pleased. Until now.

Until her.

His natural aptitude for unconventional warfare was discovered during his Army training. Each time he’d put his dark gift to use, it had cut away a bit of his core and it showed. Given the life he led, he looked like ten kilometers of bad road and well he knew it.

Yet somehow she’d recognized him, as he had her. The instant they’d touched, he felt it. Like that split second before impact when you knew the bullet was coming, but couldn’t do sweet fuck-all about it. Souls colliding as bodies merged.

Anyone outside of his best mate would think he’d gone barmy, but he was sure about himself and Stella. He’d seen that same certainty in the eyes of his parents when they looked at each other, right up until they were killed. Therefore now that he’d returned, he had every intention of staying on. Whether his wife liked it or not.

“Well?” Stella crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’m what you might call a conflict consultant.”

“Consulting could mean anything or nothing.”

Clever girl, his Stella. That was precisely why he’d set up his company in that manner. The less known about what he did, the better for all involved.

“When one person’s agenda conflicts with someone else’s, they call me. That’s why I’m here. Frank DiMarco called me.”