Hunting Mila

by Melissa Schroeder

  “Oh, my God, you are like Mila.”

  She smiled, then dissolved into another fit of tears.

  Patting her shoulder, his father bent his head and murmured something too low for anyone else to hear. She nodded.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, gentleman.”

  She turned to leave, stopped, hugged Hunter again, then hurried down the hall.

  “Wow, she’s got to be a lot of work, sir.” Masters made that observation as he watched Janet scurry away.

  His father smiled. “Worth it all, my dear boy. Now, Hunter, tell me how’s she doing?”

  “Awake and alert. She lost some blood, but she’s going to pull through, no problem. And she might just be pissed as hell.”

  “At you?”

  Hunter nodded and his father sighed.

  “I won’t pry.”

  “That’ll be a first.”

  “But I will say that Janet might hurt you if she knew.”

  “Don’t worry, I was on my way out the door.”

  Pain washed over his father’s face, then dissolved, replaced by the diplomatic smile. And for the first time ever, he felt like the bastard he was for causing his father any harm.

  To escape he said, “I’m heading back to Earth tonight to tie up some loose ends.”

  Franklin nodded. “Thank you, John. I appreciate it and so does Janet. And ... I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Just make sure she’s taken care of.”

  He strode down the hall without looking back and decided, before anything else, he would get shit-faced drunk. Robbie caught up, took one look at him and said, “I know a great bar.”

  * * * * *

  After Hunter left her, Mila was sure she’d fall apart and start crying, but she didn’t. She figured she was too numb. Everything that had happened had really been almost too much. She had no idea of the amount of drugs in her system, so that might have had something to do with it.

  Truth be told, she was angry, not sad. Not really. How could he just walk away? Jackass.

  But, the moment the door opened, revealing Franklin and her mother, she couldn’t stop the tears. Her mother rushed to her bed and bent to hug her. It took all her strength to lift her arm and return the hug, but Mila did it. Lily of the valley surrounded her; the familiar scent was the one she always associated with her mother. She breathed it in and more tears spilled over and coursed down her cheeks.

  “Oh, mama, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

  Her mother pulled back and wiped the tears from Mila’s cheeks.

  “I’m fine. I’ll need some physical therapy and will have a nifty scar, but I’m fine.”

  Janet sighed, as if she’d been holding her breath until that moment. Then, the benevolent mother disappeared, replaced by the mother of her childhood.

  “Just what the hell were you thinking, Mila Simmons?”

  She heard Franklin chuckle. Glancing over her mother’s shoulder, she smiled at Hunter’s father and was struck by just how alike they were. No, with his cool, aristocratic looks, slim build, he didn’t look much like his son, save for those black eyes. But, their smiles -- they had the same smile.

  “Hello, Franklin.”

  He nodded in her direction. “Hello, Mila.”

  “Don’t try to distract me, Mila Louise Simmons.” Her mother’s stern voice made her frown.

  “You know you’re in trouble when she uses all three names,” Franklin quipped. Janet shot him a look over her shoulder that had him stepping back. “I’ll get you something to drink, love. Good luck, Mila.”

  Once they were alone, her mother kept staring at her, so she gave up. “I wasn’t thinking, okay?”

  “You know, I get blamed for your personality. Your father used to say that you were wild just like me. That you said exactly what you felt like saying, didn’t matter who was in the room.”

  “Did you know about Daddy?”

  Her mother frowned. “No. It’s bad enough that he actually had a double life I didn’t know about, the sneaky ass, but to do what he did to you, putting my baby in jeopardy ... If he wasn’t already dead, I’d strangle him.”

  Mila couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped. Her mother looked at her, surprise lighting the features of her face, then joined in.

  “You’re father was a piece of work. Sneaky. But worth every headache he gave me. Franklin reminds me of him.”

  Mila nodded and then dissolved into sobs. Janet rushed forward, sitting on the bed next to Mila and taking her in her arms.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “No. Daddy deserved it. I just ... it’s been a long few days.”

  “You’re telling me. It’s John.” Her mother didn’t ask. There was one person who knew her better than anyone, and it was Janet Simmons. It was because they were two peas in a pod.

  “Yes.”

  “I can go hurt him.”

  Mila chuckled. “No. I would hate it if you made him cry.”

  Janet stroked Mila’s hair. For a few minutes, Mila accepted the comfort her mother always offered without hesitation.

  “I love you, mama.”

  Her mother kissed the top of her head, then settled her cheek there. “So, tell me, what did John do?”

  “He thinks he isn’t good enough. That what happened was his fault, but that’s not really it. He’s using that as an excuse. He’s a coward because I told him I loved him.” She tried to be brave and not cry, but the catch in her throat and her mother’s soothing voice caused everything to surface ... and shred her heart again. “He threw it all away, just like that.”

  “Oh, baby.” A wealth of understanding sounded in her mother’s voice. Even as Mila’s heart ached, the warmth of her mother’s love crept in, helped her accept. “Men are jackasses.”

  She sniffled and said as she drifted to sleep, her head on her mother’s shoulder, “Yeah, men are jackasses.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Two months later.

  “I’m not sure if I’m in the mood to help the Agency or you, either, Robbie,” Mila said, as she studied him over her morning cup of coffee. He’d shown up about ten minutes ago, begging for her help on some kind of undercover thing.

  “You won’t be doing much. I just need someone who can handle herself to play my woman.”

  She snorted. “It isn’t a part I want. Been there. Done that.”

  His eyes narrowed. She’d rather have that mean look than the concern she’d seen every day for the past two months.

  “Not really. Just ... I need a woman people would expect me to be with. You would be that. But not many women who look like you do can handle themselves.”

  She studied him, trying to ferret out any hint of another reason, but saw nothing. “I’m not sure I can handle it, Robbie. My shoulder is still tight.”

  “Mila.”

  She grinned. “Okay, but you tell my mother. She’s not going to be happy.”

  “Tell her it’s a vacation.”

  “Not going to work.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair impatiently. An action that was completely out of character for Robbie.

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  After he left, she tried to figure out his cryptic comment. There was something else going on here, something he was doing that she didn’t know about. It made her uneasy, although she knew he’d never do anything to hurt her on purpose. The report on the mess put the blame at the Agency’s feet, and several supervisors had been relieved of their duty. Dangling the soon-to-be stepdaughter of Lord Westing like a carrot to catch Nikiraki didn’t set well with the government.

  The work would at least get her mind off Hunter. She didn’t expect him to show, but that didn’t stop her from looking for him everywhere. Every day it was getting easier to deal with the pain. It didn’t make her any happier. She’d used her hurt, her anger, to work through her recovery. The physical therapy had damn
near killed her, and she’d used her rage against Hunter to spur her on. She wouldn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself. She’d show him just what she was made out of.

  At some point, she just hoped the pain she felt each time she woke and didn’t find him in bed beside her would fade.

  * * * * *

  Hunter growled when he heard the knock at his door. He wanted to be left alone. In the past two months, more people than he thought he knew stopped by to bug him. Supervisors from the Agency begging for him to return had been in the first group. He refused. They kept calling.

  Next had been Sterling, who had cigars in celebration of the baby girl Saint and Libby had. Yes, he was glad everything turned out fine, and yes, he thought Maribeth was a beautiful name, but it didn’t mean he wanted to fucking talk about it.

  No sooner had he left than Masters had shown up. All he could talk about was Mila, her recovery, and if the pretty boy hadn’t brought the fine brandy he’d offered, Hunter would have kicked him out. Instead, they got shit-faced drunk again, as they did the night he left Mila.

  Cursing, he walked to the door. Cursed again when he looked through the peephole and saw his father.

  He opened the door and shot his father a nasty look. Without saying anything, he turned and walked back to his kitchen. The sound of the door shutting told him that Franklin wasn’t put off by his chilly reception.

  “Christ, John. You’re a wealthy man. Why do you live in the sticks in a shack?”

  He heard the humor in his father’s voice, but ignored it.

  “Because I don’t like people. Living here makes sure anyone who comes to see me really wants to see me.”

  His father just smiled at him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was ordered here.” Without invitation, he went to Hunter’s refrigeration unit and started looking for something to eat. “Don’t you keep anything unhealthy?”

  He grunted, picking up his green tea and sipping it slowly.

  His father pulled out a jujuapple and shut the door. Biting into it, he chewed noisily for a few moments. Since his father seemed to be waiting, he took the bait, figuring it would get him out of the house faster.

  “Who ordered you here?”

  “It was killing you, wasn’t it?” He took another bite, munched, then said, “Your future stepmama ordered me here.”

  “Why is that?”

  “First, I want to talk about other things.”

  “If you mean my mother, she’s off limits.”

  “Then go away, because I am going to talk about her.” He sighed and finished off his fruit, throwing the core in the sink. “You know I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. She was shopping at Harrod’s, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was so happy, so jubilant.”

  “And when things got nasty, you split.”

  “No. I assumed she told you that. Until now, I wanted to let you believe that, because I loved her.”

  Hunter didn’t want to hear this, hear his father wax on about a woman he wouldn’t marry, even when she found herself pregnant. He didn’t want to accept anything except what his mother had told him. But he realized with each passing year, that his mother had had problems.

  “I can see you don’t believe me. But I did. Christine was so wonderful. She made me think I could do more with my life. Then she found out she was pregnant. I wanted to marry. I know she told you differently, but I did. Her background didn’t matter, and the things I wanted to do, that I did do, had less to do with my title and more with my quest in the scientific field.”

  “And she turned you down?”

  “Yes. When I insisted, tried to force the issue, she threatened to disappear with you. I couldn’t have that, and thought maybe after you were born, her erratic behavior would improve. The ups and downs while she was pregnant were ... scary.”

  Apparently needing to do something with his hands, Franklin went to the microstove and ordered up some green tea for himself.

  “She did improve. For a few years. I wanted her to take medication. She wouldn’t.”

  “Mum didn’t trust it.”

  Franklin chuckled. “Yes, she told me that more than once.” The bell dinged and he retrieved his tea, then took the stool opposite Hunter. “So I did what I thought would be best and played along. I had no idea how bad it had gotten until you’d left for school.”

  The memories of his adolescence came rushing back at him. Her mood swings -- happy one day, near suicidal the next. When he left for college two years early, thanks to his quick mind, he hadn’t though about learning -- just escape.

  “When she committed ...” Franklin’s voice faltered, and he took a sip of tea. “When she was gone, you were so angry. You didn’t want to see my side, and I didn’t want you to think ill of Chris. I loved her.”

  Looking at the man he’d despised most of his life, Hunter realized that what he’d said was true.

  “I often wondered why you didn’t marry.”

  “I couldn’t. I thought I’d failed, that there should have been something I could have done, something I could have said that would have saved Chris from herself. In the end, I couldn’t. It wasn’t until I met Janet that I started to think it might be possible to fall in love again.” His voice lightened. “Well, truthfully, she wouldn’t leave me alone. Showed up at work on loan from the U.S. government and told me to quit acting like a bloody stick-in-the-mud.”

  Hunter chuckled. “Mila’s right. They are a lot alike.”

  His father sobered and studied him for a second. “And we’re a lot alike. I know that you left Mila because you think it best.”

  “I let her down.”

  “You told her to be a courier, to ignore your warnings to return to Earth, to jump in front of you?”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Mila.”

  Still, two months later, the shaft of pain that had ripped into his chest when he left her, oozed. “She thinks she bloody knows everything.”

  “Yes. But in this case, she’s right.”

  Hunter frowned. “No, she’s not.”

  “I was ordered here by Janet.”

  It took a minute for Hunter to catch the switch in topics. “You let a woman tell you what to do?”

  “Like you said, the two of them are a lot alike.”

  “And why did she order you here?”

  “Mila is going on another assignment and won’t listen to either of us.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Exactly. And Masters is on my list of people to visit. I can’t believe he convinced her to go undercover.”

  “I’ll kill the bastard.” He was up and moving to his bedroom to pack. “Have they left?”

  “No. We have another day to get back.”

  Blind rage and fear made it hard to remember just what he threw in to take with him before he shut the case. He grabbed a weapon and joined his father in the entryway.

  “Janet and I really appreciate this, John.”

  “You’re going to owe me big, Franklin.”

  As he headed out the door, he didn’t even try to guess at the strange smile on his father’s face. He concentrated on exactly what he’d do once he cornered Mila. Bloody hell, he didn’t go through all this pain just for her to screw it all up.

  And he would make damn sure she knew it.

  * * * * *

  Mila heard her doorbell and rolled her eyes. Robbie was over an hour late. When she opened the door, though, she found Hunter standing there, a dark expression on his face. Before she could close the door, he stepped through the doorway and stalked her.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m here because my father was ordered -- yes, ordered by your mother -- to come get me. Seems they’re a little upset because you’re going on assignment with Masters. Who, when I find him, is going to have a conversation with my fist.”

  She stared at him, her mind still trying to come to terms with th
e emotions racing through her. Anger, pain, and jubilation. It was a confusing mix. He looked tired, and he looked beautiful, damn him.

  “My mother doesn’t know about this. Robbie said he’d take care of it.”

  Hunter snorted and stepped closer. She hurried around the other side of her breakfast table.

  “Once again, Masters strikes. He didn’t. You’re mother got a whiff of it, and because my father can’t say no to her, he came and told me what was going on.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “It bloody well is my business, woman.” He fairly shouted that comment out.

  “You gave up that right.” She embarrassed herself when her voice hitched on the last word.

  “Oh, love.” Hunter’s features softened, and he came around the table. She inched away, but not fast enough. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest.

  “Let me go,” she said, without much conviction, as she struggled against him. It was hard to be convincing when it felt so good to be held against him, allowing his body to warm her.

  “Shhh.” He stroked her hair and settled his chin on her head. “I’m a jackass.”

  She didn’t respond, couldn’t. The tenderness she heard in his voice, the plea, was her undoing. She began to cry.

  “I don’t know what to say. I thought I was willing to give you up, but ... I can’t.”

  She pulled away and looked at him. The pain she saw mirrored in his eyes warmed her as much as it angered her.

  “You were going to give me up?”

  “I thought it best.”

  “Who died and made you the emperor?”

  He frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Fear flitted over his face and he drew in a deep breath.

  “I couldn’t take it, okay?” He shouted the words as he paced away from her. “All I could see was that bastard with his hands on your neck and you fucking dangling there. And then, you jumped in front of me ...”

  He paced back to her, leaned down toward her. “You will not go on another assignment, and I’ll make sure of it.”

  She would have been mad and yelled back, but joy burst through her at his ranting. The ice that had encased her heart melted as love for the jackass warmed her.