“Adam and Edward. Yes…I know.” He sat back in his chair, shifting his shoulders in a determined effort to ease the strain. “Then we will just have to hope for a simple explanation, won’t we?”
Simple?
The bleak and unpleasant truth was that nothing in his life had been simple for a very long time. Thanks to the efforts over the past six months of some of his best agents, all too often at grave risk to their own lives, he’d become aware that there had to be a mole operating within the Lazlo Group. That had been hard enough to deal with when the list of possible suspects included every person in the agency, each and every one of whom he’d handpicked and trusted with his own life. But to have the field narrowed down to these three…
My brother, my best friend and the woman I love. Am I to believe one of them capable of betraying me to my worst enemy? My God.
He stared into his coffee cup, his heart tapping deep in his belly in a way he knew all too well. Dread…fear…the feeling went by any number of names, and he’d become familiar with it at other times when his life and future had hung in the balance. When the outcome had depended on people and events beyond his control. During one of the worst of those times, it had been Adam Sinclair who’d come through for him, at the cost of his own career. And there were all those times during his wild and misspent youth when he was certain the only thing standing between Corbett Lazlo and reform school had been his big brother, Edward-the good son. Which left…
Lucia.
He stole a look at her as he lifted his cup to his lips and sipped what had begun to taste as awful as battery acid to him. She was staring fixedly at her cup, her cheeks washed with pink-looking, quite frankly, guilty as hell. Which, in itself, meant nothing, of course; most innocent people did feel guilty when they knew they were being suspected of wrongdoing. A woman with her intelligence would quite likely know precisely what he was thinking. And he knew all too well what it was like to be the one all the evidence seemed to point to.
No. Not Lucia.
He could not-would not-believe this woman, this same woman he’d held in his arms such a short time ago, made love to until she’d sobbed and trembled in complete and total surrender, could betray him. He could not have been such a bloody awful fool. Could he?
Of course, there had been all those years when she’d been madly in love with him and he’d ignored her, dismissed her, flaunted other women in front of her. He cringed to think of all the times he’d stopped by her office on his way to or from a date, determined to prove something, he supposed-to her, to himself, who knows?-but an exercise in monumental stupidity however he sliced it.
And he did have a history of involving himself with women with a thirst for revenge…
Lucia?
Could she have been so angry at him at some point during those years as to let herself be persuaded-
No.
But that could be why she’s feeling guilty about it now, and afraid to-
No, dammit. Not Lucia.
And what a complete jackass he was to let her sit there in guilty silence, thinking he was entertaining all sorts of doubts about her…
I’ve got to say something to him, Lucia thought. She’d held it in too long as it was. I know he’s thinking about it. She could feel it pulsing like a living thing, as if another person were there in the room with them, standing between them.
“Corbett,” she began, just as he said, “Lucia-”
They broke off together and then he was staring at her, frozen, his eyes like silver daggers.
“Go on,” he said softly.
“No-that’s all right, you-”
“Lucia.”
Oh, God. She’d heard that tone of voice before. And she could see his jaw stiffening, see his body tensing, knew he was throwing up all his old barricades. This was going to be even harder than she’d imagined.
She drew a shuddering breath. “Corbett, there’s something we have to talk about. I’m sorry, I know you don’t-”
“Lucia, for God’s sake!” His voice was like tearing cloth.
She held up a hand as if to deflect a blow, then snatched it back. “I know this is hard for you. Painful. And maybe you feel it isn’t really my business, but-” She halted when he flinched back, as if she’d lobbed something at him instead.
“Not-your business?” And now, oddly, he seemed more confused than anything.
“Yes. I mean-” She closed her eyes and took another breath. Well, what could she do but blunder on? “This has all happened so suddenly. I think…I’m really not exactly sure what my status is-with you. But I do think this is important, to you and to both of us. So I have to ask. Corbett, you must have thought about it. What are you going to do about them? Cassandra. And…um…your son. What is his name? I’m not even sure…” She stumbled to a halt.
With all the responses she’d imagined, all the scenarios she’d played over in her mind, she hadn’t expected this. Corbett had one hand over his eyes and was shaking with silent laughter.
She could only stare at him, wonder whether to be miffed and wait for an explanation. Which never really came, because after a moment he rubbed the hand over his face and said in a muffled voice, “Troy. I believe that’s his name. My son…” Another spasm of inexplicable laughter rippled through him. He shook his head, then looked at her, eyes glistening with something that might have been grief or mirth, mixed with what looked bewilderingly like relief. As if the question she’d asked hadn’t been nearly as hard for him as the one he’d been expecting.
He didn’t give her a chance to mull that over, though, as he pushed back abruptly, rose and began to pace, raking his hair back with his fingers.
“You’re quite right, you know. It is difficult for me to talk about. I don’t know how to feel about it, for one thing. Guilt-a whole lot of that. Rage, sometimes. Sure, I’m angry. Mad as hell. More often, though-most of the time-I think what I feel is just…sad.” He paced a step or two without speaking, then threw Lucia a crooked smile. “What’s weird, though, is that I have these moments where I actually feel this fierce kind of joy-purely instinctive, I suspect. Crikey, as Adam would say, I’m a dad! Am I crazy, or what? The kid wants to kill me. But, hey, he’s my son.”
His lips twisted with a bitter little smile as he paused to grasp the back of a chair and lean his weight on it. “As for what I’m to do with him, given the fact that he is currently in police custody, I doubt I’ll have much to say in the matter. If we’d been able to whisk him away before the authorities arrived, as we’d planned…But, as it is-”
“What about the fact that he is your son? Couldn’t you say it was all a family quarrel gone wrong, some sort of misunderstanding, and given that the only real harm done was to the perpetrator, get the charges dismissed, or reduced, say, to something with probation or a suspended sentence?”
“You’re forgetting,” Corbett said dryly, “he’s tried this a few times before.”
“Yes, but the police don’t know that. Do they? If you can keep him out of jail, maybe you could get him released into your custody…”
“He’s nineteen years old, Lu. In criminal matters that’s considered an adult in most countries. I do have a few connections, it’s true…one or two favors I could probably call in. But there’s the fact that we don’t know who this boy is. We don’t know how much damage his mother’s managed to inflict on him. Considering he’s got her genetic material and almost twenty years of her influence, for all we know the lad could be an unmitigated monster who absolutely belongs in jail.”
“Yes, but he’s got your genetic material, too. And you told me his mother wasn’t always evil. And speaking of Cassandra, why haven’t the police arrested her? Adam said she’s been right there at her son’s bedside ever since the shooting.”
“And what would they charge her with? Just being a lousy mother isn’t enough, I’m afraid.”
“But Adam said she’s the head of S.N.A.K.E. She must have been responsible for dozens of murders, dr
ugs and weapons trafficking. What about that conflict-diamond business Witt uncovered last summer? Surely that-”
“And absolutely nothing can be traced back to her. She’s covered her tracks well, as you know. Even you weren’t able to nail her as the source of those bloody e-mails that entertained us so nicely all summer and fall.” He broke off, straightened and rubbed his hand over his eyes once more. “You know what the real irony is? This is precisely the sort of job the Lazlo Group would ordinarily take on. If I’d only caught on sooner to the possibility it was Cassandra behind it all, I believe we could have found the proof necessary to put the organization out of business and Cassandra behind bars for good. But as it is, I’m afraid she’s got the drop on us, love. With the Group in complete disarray and no way to communicate-”
“Don’t say that,” Lucia said fiercely. “I’ve been running some diagnostics. Let me try again to reach Adam.” Or anyone else in the system, she thought, as she pushed her chair back from the table. Maybe even anyone but Adam…just in case.
Ten minutes later she looked up from the bank of monitors and turned to face Corbett. Her heart felt like a chunk of hot lead in her chest, and she knew from the bleakness in his eyes that what she had to tell him was already written in hers.
“That’s it, I’m sorry. The entire communications system is nonfunctional. It’s been shut down, from headquarters to the most remote outpost. Everything. There’s not a peep anywhere.” She paused, then added in a voice that trembled, “It’s as if the Lazlo Group has ceased to exist.”
Chapter 11
“It’s the only possible thing to do,” Corbett said. “I have to go back immediately. You know that.”
“Of course I know that,” Lucia said with exaggerated patience, a ploy he thought was intended to keep her from falling apart completely, and which he could tell was only a good breath or two away from complete and utter failure. “What I do not understand is why you won’t let me come with you.”
“I’ve explained why,” he said, in a manner that matched hers and, he was sure, was about to cause an inevitable flare-up of her temper. “I need you to stay here, try to access the Lazlo system, and ferret out our mole.”
“Which I can do just as well on my laptop from anywhere on the planet,” she shot back furiously, sitting up in bed and turning on him, evidently forgetting for the moment that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Which you well know, dammit.” The last word emerged with added emphasis as she snatched at the down comforter and jerked it up to cover her breasts.
In spite of the ache of sadness that seemed a permanent part of him now, he had to quell an urge to smile. Given her present state of mind, he didn’t like to think what she might do if she thought he was laughing at her. Which was the farthest thing from his mind.
What was on his mind was trying to recall exactly how they’d come to be engaged in discussion at all, instead of the vastly more enjoyable activities they’d both had in mind when they’d reached the mutual conclusion that he should spend the night in his own bed-with her. But somehow, between the blood-stirring embraces in the kitchen and the unavoidable processes involved in retiring for the night-the teeth-brushing and the like-Lucia had asked him about, or he might have mentioned, his plans for the following day.
“Édesem…” He reached across her to hook a forefinger over the comforter where it draped between her breasts. Half expecting her to bat his hand away, he pulled it down to uncover her nipples. Finding them pertly erect in spite of the comforter’s cozy warmth, he smiled. “I do know that. The truth is, I don’t want you anywhere near Cassandra until she’s been neutralized. In fact,” he added fervently, “if I could find a way to send you off-planet, I would. She’s vowed to kill you, you know. And I believe she means it.”
“But you said it yourself,” Lucia said, looking at him along her shoulder, her mouth set in a stubborn pout he was sure she had no idea made it look more delectable than determined. “It’s you she really wants.”
“I believe I’m a bit more able to look after myself than you are.”
Oh, the confident smile, the lazy arrogance in his half-closed eyes…Even though Lucia knew what he said was true, and even though she knew the smile and the arrogance had more to do with what his hand was doing to her than what he’d said, she couldn’t resist twisting around to stare pointedly at the fading bruises on his torso and murmuring, “Oh, yes, I can see that. What if-”
“Lucia,” he interrupted in a stern, warning tone, without causing the slightest interruption in the slow sensual way his thumb was circling the rigid tip of her breast. “Don’t make me play the I’m-your-boss card.”
She valiantly narrowed her eyes and swallowed before attempting to speak, but still, the words came out slurred. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I think you know I would.” She felt him shift behind her, felt the warm flow of his breath on her naked shoulder. “Since I can tell you’re going to leave me no choice…” She felt his mouth move in clever ways that shivered her skin into goose bumps and made all the nerve-rich parts of her swell and sing shamelessly, and entirely against her will. “I’m making it an order.” She tried to turn her face away, but with a single finger touched to the underside of her chin he brought it back so that his steel-dagger eyes could stab relentlessly into hers. “Lucia Cordez, you are to stay here and catch me a mole, whilst I return to Paris to see what has become of the agency formerly known as the Lazlo Group. That is a direct order.”
He leaned slowly forward and touched his lips to hers. Warm and firm and satiny, they moved over hers with the skill of an artisan, and she closed her eyes and her mind and gave herself up to him, and knew in that terrifying moment that this man, Corbett Lazlo, was not only her boss and her lover, but also master of her heart and soul. My love…when did you become everything in the world to me? Painter of my heart’s dreams…maker of my soul’s music…
“You are not to follow me until I tell you it is safe to do so. Do I make myself clear?”
A shudder shook her and she opened her eyes, trying desperately and without success to free herself from the web of enchantment he’d woven around her. She wanted to be angry with him, fight with him, scream at him in fury, but instead, she wanted him to make love to her. And the worst of it was, she knew he knew it.
How had she let this happen? When had he become master of all her being? Master of her heart and soul-that was one thing. Master of her body? Well, okay, some of the time. When she allowed it. But master of her mind?
Never.
“Perfectly,” she purred.
“Promise me.” She could see the wariness in his eyes. The man really did know her too well. “Promise me, Lu. I want to hear you say it. You will stay here until I tell you it’s safe.”
“I promise.” She whispered it, surprised by the ache that had come to her throat from out of nowhere, and even more by the tear that was making its way slowly down her cheek.
He kissed it away, then took her mouth so sweetly, so tenderly, she knew he’d misunderstood the reason for the tears. He couldn’t know it was the lie, not the promise, that was breaking her heart.
“Don’t cry, édesem,” he said huskily. “It’s going to be all right, you know. I just don’t think I could bear it if anything happened to you. You’ve become part of me, you see. From now on, for the rest of my life, you are a very important part of me.”
She touched her finger to his lips and in a choked voice, said, “Promise? I want to hear you say it…”
His smile was beauty itself. “Yes, love, I promise to love you dearly, cherish and protect you for the rest of my life. How’s that?”
She couldn’t answer, but only stifled her gathering sobs in his mouth. And she thought, Will you still love me, my dearest one, when I’ve broken the very first promise I made to you?
Corbett felt the shudders that racked her body and recognized them for the struggle they betrayed. He knew his Lucia very well, and knew what it had cost her to mak
e him such a promise. And, to be completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely trust her to keep it.
Which was why before he left tomorrow he intended to make it very clear to Josef and Kati that they were to make absolutely certain she did.
For now, though, he was only glad the conflicts had been resolved to his satisfaction, and with the woman he adored softly, sweetly compliant in his arms. He still felt his lovemaking skills somewhat hampered by his injured ribs, but the tenderness he felt for her, and his gratitude for the way she’d given in, he hoped would make up for that.
The fact was, he’d never before made love in the grip of such powerful emotions. He felt they’d changed him in ways he hadn’t begun to understand yet, but which scared him a little. He knew for certain that when he left this house tomorrow he wouldn’t be the same Corbett Lazlo he’d been when he’d arrived. What he didn’t know was…would he be less strong because he had so much to lose? Or all the stronger for having so much to fight for?
For now, there was, thank God, Lucia. Only Lucia.
It confounded and amazed him how happy he was to be with her, touching her, kissing her, hearing her earthy little sounds of pleasure. Before Lucia, sex had been at best mildly enjoyable, on those occasions when he’d had needs of his own to be met, and at worst a chore that left him feeling soulless and depressed. Even with Cassandra, as wildly exciting as that liaison had been, there’d also been an element of fear, of danger, involving, at times, a good bit of adrenaline. He’d never gone to bed with her without feeling at least a smidgen of dread.
But Lucia…making love with her was complete and utter joy. He wondered if it might be because her love for him matched his for her, and that he didn’t have to be anything other than who and what he was. He didn’t have to think about what he was going to do, what way to touch her, what part of his body to put where. All he had to do was feel, and his body fit naturally with hers, and everywhere they came together there was only sweetness and pleasure.
Lazlo’s Last Stand Page 15