Operation: Reunited

by Linda O. Johnston

  The old Cole. Not this cold, angry, accusatory stranger.

  “I didn’t know what was going on back then, Cole. In fact, if you remember, you lied to me from the first. I thought that Vane and you were army officers on leave, not undercover Special Forces investigators.” She sighed. “I’ll make this short. After you…after I thought you died, my parents were accused of being in on the plot with Warren Geari. Vane helped to clear them. He told about your special unit, your investigation assignment together—at least what wasn’t classified. I was grateful to him. My parents sold most of what was left and scaled down their hotel operations, and I decided to go into business myself. I remembered this inn…” She remembered it because of what she had shared here with Cole, but she wouldn’t mention that. “Vane had decided to leave the military and offered to go into partnership with me. He’d supply some of the funds and legwork, and I’d supply the knowledge and experience.”

  “And you weren’t lovers before?” Cole sounded insultingly incredulous.

  “No!” They had kept their voices down before, and this word came out louder than Alexa had intended. More softly she repeated, “No. It’s not your business why we decided to get engaged, but we had a nice establishment here for over a year, until—”

  “Until you decided enough time had passed and you could bring the terrorist infiltrators back.”

  “Stop it!” Alexa hissed. “I didn’t know who these people were. Vane brought them in. I realized right away that something wasn’t right, but Vane changed. He wasn’t kind anymore. He threatened to destroy my parents if I didn’t play along. He threatened me, too, but that didn’t matter.”

  Tears had started flowing down Alexa’s face, but she didn’t care. She was finally able, for the first time in these terrible, frightening months, to tell her story. Even if he didn’t believe her, she couldn’t stop.

  “I recognized from the first how much this looked like what had happened two years ago. They’d investigated my parents, and I knew the authorities thought there had been a terrorist plot, but all the truth hadn’t come out. I wanted to stop it. Mostly, I wanted to understand it, for maybe if I did, I’d understand why I lost you.” She glanced at Cole through the veil of wetness. The fuzziness of her own ability to see must have shaded his features, for they no longer looked as hard. As remote.

  Was there a suggestion of sympathy in his eyes?

  She had to be mistaken. She inhaled shakily. “I tried to get answers but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave without the evidence Vane devised to incriminate my parents. I couldn’t—”

  “Damn it!”

  Before she could react, Alexa found herself drawn into Cole’s arms. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened around her.

  “Damn it,” he repeated softly. And then his lips ground down on hers.

  Chapter Eight

  The kiss devastated Cole. And revitalized him.

  At first, she felt as rigid as a cardboard cutout in his arms. But then she yielded.

  No, she threw herself into the kiss with all the passion he recalled.

  “Oh, Alexa,” he whispered against her.

  She made small whimpering noises as her mouth opened to welcome the plunging exploration of his tongue. The sound nearly drove him crazy.

  Or was it the sensation of her soft, pliant body against him once again, after so long, that made him feel lost and found at the same time? And hard. Very hard. Almost painfully hard against the unyielding fabric of his jeans. Especially as she fitted her body along the length of his on the bed, her hips pressing against him. When had they lain down?

  He hadn’t intended to touch her.

  And he certainly hadn’t intended to believe any lies she told to defend herself.

  But…those very realistic lies. The way she reacted to seeing him again. The intoxication of her soft citrus scent.

  His continued feelings for her, despite all good sense.

  They had all crashed together into one incredible surge of irrationality and need. Need to be with her. Need to be in her—

  He groaned as she pulled away, swinging one leg over the far side of the bed from him and curling the other on the mattress for balance as she continued to face him. Her lips were swollen from their contact with his. Her chest heaved, the swell of her high, firm breasts visible through her long and prim nightgown. Lord, she was still the most incredibly sexy woman he had ever met. But, sitting again at the far edge of the bed from her, he resisted reaching for her again.

  He couldn’t touch her now. Not as he watched the unrestrained heat in her eyes grow chilly. She took a deep breath. Her eyes did not leave his. “All right,” she said, her voice hoarse. “We just learned something. The attraction we felt for one another—it’s still there. Even with me knowing you are not the impostor John O’Rourke, but yourself.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “And—”

  “And nothing. We’re not going to act on it. You don’t trust me, and I certainly don’t trust you.” Her expression blazed. “I loved you, damn it! And you died. The pain—” Her voice broke and her head drooped. Her lovely, honey-colored hair draped about her face, hiding her features. Obscuring any tears. But her shoulders shook.

  He couldn’t help himself. He extended his arms toward her. She must have seen the movement, for she looked up once more with glistening, angry eyes, stiffening her body against his impending touch.

  He dropped his hands. He replied to her words in a monotone. “I had hoped that you would mourn me but get on with your life, Alexa. Your life. I thought I was ensuring you still would have one. My father had been murdered because of my involvement in that investigation. I’d been warned that everyone else I cared about was at risk, too.” That had been Vane and Alexa. His mother had died when he was young, a fact he had revealed to Alexa back then. “It took a long time after the explosion before I could think at all, and even longer before I could think logically, but staying away from you was the only way.”

  She studied him for a moment before her expression softened. “You were in pain, too,” she finally said. “Physically as well as mentally, I expect.”

  He shrugged.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted, though he would never describe the shooting stabs in his back, the cramps in his hands, the aches deep within the bones of his face.

  “I assume you look so different as the result of cosmetic surgery.”

  He nodded.

  “Couldn’t they reconstruct your face the way it was before?”

  Shrugging, he said, “They weren’t sure, and I told them not to try. In my line of work, a new appearance can be an advantage.” Especially since he’d had every intention of picking up this investigation again as soon as he could. And if no one involved knew that Cole Rappaport had survived, so much the better. Even now, most members of his Special Forces Unit still didn’t know the truth.

  “I see.”

  He could tell she did, too, by the combination of sympathy and dismay in her eyes. With his new identity, he had fooled her, at least for a while, the person who had known him best—the better to scrutinize her and her involvement.

  “I really liked how you looked before,” she continued in a small voice, “but this way is good, too.”

  “Just good?”

  Her smile was wry. “Are you fishing for a compliment, Rappaport? Okay, it’s great. And I can’t even tell it’s not natural.”

  He had allowed his hair to grow much longer than his previous military cut, and he pulled it back on one side. “They did a good job with the cosmetic surgery, but there are still scars along the edges.”

  She leaned toward him, appearing to study his face even closer in the glow of the reading light. “They don’t show much.”

  “No,” he said. “The damage is still much more obvious on my back.”

  Her head rose sharply. “That was why you didn’t take your shirt off at the beach.”

  He smiled. “And you
thought it was just my boyish modesty.”

  She made a small snorting sound, but the edges of her full, sensuous mouth curled slightly in an ironic answering grin. “Yeah, something like that.” She hesitated, then asked softly, “Who else knew you survived, Cole?”

  “My boss, Forbes Bowman, pulled me out of the rubble just in time. He’d been on his way with some others to the garage that exploded. We’d intended to—never mind. That part is classified.”

  “And you didn’t tell him to contact me.” There was no inflection in her tone, but he sensed both question and sorrow.

  “For a long time, I couldn’t tell anyone to do anything. And when I regained consciousness enough to discuss it with him, we concluded it was in your best interest not to know I’d survived.”

  “Oh.” Alexa’s voice was subdued.

  Maybe he had been wrong. If she had been innocent, he had left her alone to cope with his death and the accusations against her parents. Had left her vulnerable to Vane’s encroachment on her life.

  But he hadn’t known of Vane’s involvement then, either. And he still did not know whether she was a world-class actress, or if she was telling the truth.

  Phantom, who had been lying on the floor, suddenly stood at attention. Cole froze, listening.

  “What—” Alexa began, but he held his hand up to silence her.

  Cole didn’t hear anything, but all his senses were on alert. What if Alexa had been feeding him a line? Was Vane coming in here to see his beloved? To make love with her?

  Even when Phantom settled back down again, Cole felt his skin crawl. He had kissed Alexa. Had begun to joke with her.

  And he still could not buy that she wasn’t in on the plot he had come to investigate. He didn’t dare buy it, not if he wanted to stay alive…this time.

  She was engaged to Vane.

  “I’d better go,” he whispered. He knew that his mistrust had turned his voice cold once more.

  “No!” she said quickly. “Not until we have an understanding.”

  “I’m listening.” But he wasn’t about to consider a bargain that would let her off the hook. Not if she was as involved as he still suspected she was.

  “I need your help. I’m a virtual prisoner here—I am!”

  This last must have been the result of his deep-seated skepticism being reflected on his face. She bit her luscious and tempting bottom lip—the way he’d do if they were making love.

  And then her face took on an imperious expression. “You don’t need to believe me. But if we work together, maybe we can get the answers you need to stop whatever is going on. I will do what’s necessary to help you with that. In exchange, I want you to— You do still work for the government, don’t you?”

  He nodded curtly. Was she going to grill him for classified information, assuming he’d blurt it out because he wanted her so badly?

  “That same secret agency? Never mind. You didn’t tell me about it then, so I don’t expect you to now. But I’ll need for you to help me locate the file Vane put together to implicate my parents, and to guarantee that someone will watch over and protect them. And you’ll keep an open mind about their innocence, no matter how realistic Vane’s documents appear to be. Also, if I can somehow prove that I’m not involved, that I wasn’t involved before, you’ll leave me alone here, at the Hideaway. Alone. Without Vane. If you find the evidence you need about this plot, Vane will probably go to prison for a long, long time.”

  “And if I don’t agree? Assuming you’re right and your parents and you weren’t involved, what can you give me that I can’t get on my own?”

  She lifted her fingers to enumerate items. “Easy access to the guest rooms. Vane’s and Minos’s, too. Printouts of information about the guests. And I can keep them occupied while you search. I can tell you what I’ve heard so far, though I admit it isn’t a lot. They’ve been careful. I haven’t been able to get into Vane’s computer yet, but you can do that. And—”

  “And you’re not going to tell Vane who I am?” he interrupted.

  “Of course not,” she said scornfully. “What good would that do either of us?”

  “All right, then,” Cole said. Maybe she was playing him for a fool once more, but just possibly she could be of assistance. And if he found he had begun thinking with the wrong parts of his body again, he could always call it off—as long as he remained alive. But for now… “You’ve got a deal.”

  “I’M HELPING YOU again this morning.”

  Alexa whirled from the counter where she was whisking eggs in a metal mixing bowl in preparation for making Spanish omelettes. The voice had not been the one she had been anticipating. And, yes, hoping for.

  Minos Flaherty’s muscular girth filled the doorway. He wore black sweats, his usual morning garb, for she knew he went out jogging on mountain paths at dawn.

  His dark scowl told her he hadn’t elected to be her breakfast assistant.

  “That’s not necessary,” she replied with a forced smile. “You can let Vane know I have everything under control and don’t need assistance.”

  “I’m helping, anyway.” He walked in and planted himself at the sink, staring at her with his beefy arms crossed.

  Alexa gave a groan deep inside. She was being watched even more carefully today. Why? Did Vane suspect something was different between “John O’Rourke” and her? Or maybe he was still just angry about her outing yesterday.

  She had put her ring back on first thing that morning. She would have to maneuver herself back into Vane’s good graces if she was to be of use to Cole in his investigation.

  Thank heaven she no longer felt alone—at least, in the quest to understand what was happening. She knew, from the earlier fiasco, that there could be earthshaking repercussions from the mission Vane’s guests were being primed for—whatever it was. She had already hoped she could ferret out the goal and somehow thwart it—once she was able to protect her parents. Now, with Cole’s participation, they would succeed. He would have the attention of appropriate authorities. Perhaps this time, she could even assist in saving a few lives.

  And maybe, just maybe, she had some hope of breaking free of this dismal situation.

  But how was she to hide that her despondency was no longer so deep?

  She had even gotten a better night’s sleep last night than she had for a long time. And she had risen early and taken Phantom, who was now watching from behind his gate in the pantry, for a brisker walk than usual along the water.

  She had hoped to see Cole—John—on his morning run, but he hadn’t appeared.

  She turned to Minos. “Well, great. It’ll be nice to have your company. Let’s see—there are some fresh tomatoes there, by the sink. You can wash and slice them for me.”

  His scowl grew even uglier, if that was possible, but he said, “Fine.” He turned to study the sink area. Finding the tomatoes, he took them out of their plastic bag and began scrubbing them under the tap.

  “Not too hard,” Alexa admonished. She kept her sigh low as she returned to her whisking.

  “Good morning.”

  The bowl of eggs was the recipient of her smile, for she didn’t want Minos to see it. When she looked up, her expression was friendly but remote. “Good morning, John,” she said.

  Cole entered the kitchen with that stride she had remembered so well, the stride she had recognized in the gourmet store just a few days ago. Heavens, he looked wonderful in his T-shirt—sexy, muscle-hugging black this time—and jeans.

  She was glad that she had dressed in slacks and a matching sleeveless sweater in a flattering shade of yellow. Of course, she had put on one of her ubiquitous lacy aprons to protect her clothing. She had used a plastic clip to pull her hair back from her face.

  “I see you have help this morning,” he said, stopping beside her at the kitchen’s center island, “but if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” His liquor-brown eyes appeared controlled and neutral. She studied that new cleft in his strong chin again,
wanting to touch it, to stroke the silvery strands of hair at his temples.

  She groped for something, anything, so that he would stay here. She didn’t care for him the way she had…or at least she didn’t want to, after the way he had deceived her, the way he mistrusted her. But to her dismay she realized she had anticipated seeing him again this morning just as she had looked forward to each time they were together in the past, and it wasn’t only because he represented her one shred of hope for a real future.

  “Er, coffee. The beans are in the freezer, and the grinder is over there.”

  “You got it. If I weren’t the world’s best home improvements salesman, I’d be its best coffee brewer.” He winked broadly at her, and she smiled. From the corner of her eye, she caught Minos’s irritated stare.

  She tried to recall if she had ever seen him smile.

  For the moment, she didn’t care. Her heart was lighter than it had been in months. Years.

  Two years.

  She even caught herself starting to hum as she gathered onions for the omelette, glad that the loud grinder noise hid it.

  And then Vane entered the kitchen. His gray plaid shirt was open at the collar, and his long sleeves were rolled at the cuffs. He stopped just inside the doorway. “This room is the most popular in the place,” he said cheerily.

  “Good morning,” Alexa said to him. “Would you like a chore, too?”

  “No. Minos, I’ll take over for you. You go into the dining room and make sure all the tables are set.”

  “Sure.” He didn’t sound thrilled at the new assignment, either, but didn’t complain.

  Before Minos left the room, Vane said, “I got a call last night from Leopold Salsman.” He joined Minos at the kitchen sink.

  “Really? He’s the local chief of police,” Alexa told Cole, who, as O’Rourke, regarded them with interest. She turned back to Vane. “Did the police find who shot at us?”

  “Yes, an overzealous hunter up on the slopes, just as we thought.”