My Spy

by Christina Skye

  SHE MANAGED A PASSABLE EXIT. LATER, ANNIE WOULD BE PROUD of that.

  There had been no spilled tears, no wobbly knees. No panic and no second thoughts.

  But it had been harder than she'd dreamed possible, because the tears had threatened, blocking off her throat. Down the hill she heard the sharp slam of a car door. Probably another guest leaving in haste.

  She winced at the thought, hit by a crushing sense of failure. She'd mishandled Marsh, misreading his intentions completely. She'd been too slow to take precautions and now everything she valued was in jeopardy, and she was to blame.

  The buck stops here.

  The simple truth was that she should have seen where things were heading and tossed Marsh out at the first sign of trouble. Being frightened of litigation and distracted by Sam was no excuse, she told herself bitterly.

  Down the hill another car door slammed. Annie did some quick math and sighed. At this rate, she'd have only five guests left by morning.

  Maybe she'd have none.

  Mist curled around her as she cranked up the whirlpool heater, then switched the motor to high. With a sigh she sank into the hot, churning water and closed her eyes. Her head hurt and her ribs were bruised. But what hurt most was the knowledge that she'd failed. A good reputation was hard to achieve and even harder to maintain. Surrounded by luxury hotel chains bankrolled by international resources, she had to rely on impeccable service, discretion, and word-of-mouth recommendations to survive. Customer satisfaction had always been her hallmark, and her clientele demanded privacy and peace.

  Now that sense of peace and privacy was threatened by the media zoo in progress and rumors of sabotage at the resort. Two huge hotel chains had already phoned, offering to buy the resort, and even Annie's local bank had expressed concerns about how the publicity would affect her future bookings.

  If the attention continued, she would lose most of her clientele, people with hectic, high-power lives who came to the beautiful, isolated beach to escape from the rat race, instead of finding it right on their doorstep.

  Marsh might have the last laugh after all.

  She kept her eyes from the windows, from the shadowed figure pacing inside. In the midst of this chaos, there was Sam, distracting her, confusing her, making her want things she'd never wanted before.

  But he would be leaving soon. They both knew his job demanded it. Why did he have this ridiculous idea that they had a future, something that could outlast a few torrid encounters?

  Forget about the sex, Annie told herself.

  Forget about Sam, too.

  She traced the churning water with her hand, watching steam rise in slow spirals. At least she would always have Summerwind.

  SHE WAS WALKING RIGHT AT THE EDGE, SAM THOUGHT.

  She was pale and strained. Even then, she wouldn't give an inch.

  He stared out the window, hating the slump to her shoulders and the weary way she sank onto the deck. Tucker Marsh was to blame for some of it, but Sam knew a major part of the blame was his. It was his arrival that had thrown her life into chaos, eating into her work time and distracting her from the heavy demands of running the resort.

  Taylor had told him glumly that guests were checking out at a record clip. Though they'd kept the details from Annie, she was too smart not to guess how bad things were.

  He looked up as Izzy emerged from the courtyard. “How is it out there?”

  “Worse than a tied Army-Navy game. There are media people everywhere. The minute Buzz's officers run them off, new ones appear.”

  “What about the guests?”

  “Most of them have left. Taylor's down there handling things like a pro, but who can blame people for leaving? Finding a TV cameraman crouched on your balcony isn't exactly restful.”

  Sam prowled the room restlessly. “I've got to do something. If Annie hadn't gone back for my wallet, none of this would have happened. Hell, if I hadn't come here this wouldn't have happened.”

  “If you show your face, they'll go berserk.”

  Sam knew it was true, but his inability to help only made him angrier. “Can't Buzz block the road?”

  “He already has. They just go around by the back roads. Every hour or so a few manage to dodge his men and sneak onto the grounds anyway. It's not like he can put a dozen deputies here full-time. He doesn't have the personnel.”

  Sam stared toward the beach. “Annie needs more protection.”

  “Don't worry, I've got someone inside the spa.”

  Sam's brow rose. “If Annie didn't notice, your contact must be pretty slick.”

  “Only the best.”

  “You won't tell me who?”

  Izzy shrugged. “Afraid not.”

  “Things aren't going to get any better, not with this circus going full tilt. If she closes, the curiosity might fade.”

  “Taylor agrees. She suggested you try to convince Annie.”

  “She won't give in without a fight. This place means too much to her.” Sam stood up. “I'll still give it a shot.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Do I want to hear this?”

  Izzy cleared his throat. “Probably not.”

  Sam waited, nerves on edge. “Let's have it.”

  “The admiral just phoned. They've caught some of the TV coverage back in D.C.”

  “So?”

  Izzy seemed to steel himself for what he had to say next. “New orders. You're being pulled out as of midnight tonight.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  SAM SLASHED AT THE AIR. “I'M NOT LEAVING ANNIE IN THE Middle of a mess like this.”

  Izzy said nothing, his face impassive.

  “She's been through too damned much already.”

  “She's strong, Sam.”

  “I didn't say she wasn't.” Sam's fingers formed a fist. “But she needs moral support. Thanks to me, her life's turned into a nightmare.”

  “Taylor can give her moral support.”

  “Right now, Taylor's part of the problem,” Sam said grimly. “Annie and I were just starting to work things out. I can't leave now.”

  “I don't think you have a choice, my friend.”

  Sam slammed his palms against the kitchen counter. “Like hell I don't.”

  “Are you ready to chuck a distinguished career?” Izzy asked quietly.

  Sam stared out the window. Steam was rising above the hollyhocks, gray streaks between a riot of pink and fuchsia. The rich, hot colors reminded him of Annie's laugh, her eye for beauty, and her passionate skill at healing.

  Didn't it figure that he'd fall in love with a woman who knew how to cure everyone else's stress and pain but her own?

  Whoa.

  Love?

  Swallowing hard, Sam sank into the nearest chair. Love was an emotion he'd managed to avoid for nearly three decades. Love was messy and confusing and changed everything. Love was a distraction that a SEAL couldn't afford.

  In spite of all that, he loved her.

  Damn it, he'd loved her from the first moment he'd seen her running along the beach carrying a weather-beaten straw hat and a bunch of straggly wildflowers, laughing full tilt.

  His head sank onto his hands.

  “Something wrong?”

  Sam closed his eyes. “You could say that.”

  “Bad?”

  “Beyond bad.”

  Izzy studied him curiously. “Want some coffee?”

  “It would take a lot more than caffeine to fix this problem,” Sam said grimly. He took a long, harsh breath. “I love her,” he said quietly. “I don't want a day or two, I want forever.”

  “So this is serious.”

  Sam nodded.

  “For both of you?”

  Sam smiled thinly. “I was working on that part.”

  “A wife is a definite liability in your line of work.”

  Sam moved restlessly, rubbing his shoulder. “Tell me something I haven't already told myself. The thing is, the problems don't matter.”

  “Y
ou know what happens to marriages put under the kind of stress you face.”

  “They nose-dive fast. I've seen the scorecard, Izzy. The odds are against us. But I don't care. I'm not running out on Annie again.”

  Izzy's eyes narrowed. “Again?”

  “You heard me, again. I know what happened before. I remembered most of it yesterday.”

  Izzy shot to his feet. “Damn it, Sam, you should have told me.”

  “Relax. Nothing official has come back or I would have let you know. What I remembered was personal, scattered details about the last time I was here.” Sam shifted one shoulder restlessly, his eyes focused on the beach. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't pin it down.

  Hell, he should make a list of all the things that were bothering him.

  “I remember I told her she looked like Meg Ryan. She gave that amazing laugh and told me I didn't look much like Russell Crowe, so we were probably safe.” He closed his eyes. “I hurt her when I left, Izzy. She still can't hide it. How can I walk out and cut her to shreds like that again?”

  “Because you have to. Last time I checked, the Navy didn't let you pick which orders to obey and which ones to ignore. If you stay here any longer, someone will pick up your scent, and that becomes a serious security matter.”

  Sam cursed. He'd already realized the same thing. “When are they coming?”

  “We're to expect a car and driver at oh-three-thirty hours.”

  “Call D.C. with some story about a final set of tests you and Annie need to run.” Sam stared at the steam rising above the flowers. “I want tonight with her, Izzy. If it's going to be the last one we have, I need that.”

  Izzy rubbed his jaw. “It's not going to be easy.”

  “If it were easy, you wouldn't be getting the big bucks.”

  Izzy's brow rose. “How do you know what I'm getting?”

  “Friends in low places. You're top of the line, and the Navy knows it. I heard about that episode down in the Caribbean last year.”

  Izzy's face was expressionless. “Don't know what you mean.”

  “The cruise ship assignment. Ford McKay happens to be an old friend of mine.”

  “I don't think I know the name,” Izzy murmured.

  Sam snorted. “Like hell you don't, but I'll forget I brought it up. Just buy us some time.”

  Izzy smiled faintly. “You're on.”

  “I won't forget it.” Sam started for the back door. “Meanwhile, why don't you go keep an eye on Taylor and the media hordes?”

  “Meaning you'd like some privacy?”

  “Meaning I'd like some privacy.”

  Izzy was smiling broadly as he sauntered to the door. “Roger that. Radio silence until oh-five-hundred hours.” But he turned, giving Sam a serious look. “I can't hold them off beyond that. At dawn I'm afraid all the coaches will turn back into pumpkins.”

  ANNIE WAS STRETCHED AGAINST THE ROCKY EDGE OF THE Freeform saltwater spa, her eyes closed as steam danced around her. A book lay forgotten at her elbow.

  She would have looked the picture of serenity except for the black eye and the bruises along the inside of her elbow.

  Sam still felt sick at how close she had come to serious harm at Marsh's hands, but he wasn't going to waste their last night thinking about Marsh. If there was any justice, the man would be practicing jailhouse law on surly cell mates for the next few years.

  Annie opened one eye as Sam sat on the edge of the spa. She watched him heft a twenty-five-pound dumbbell with his good arm.

  “Don't you ever rest?”

  “No.” Sam smiled. “I guess that makes us just alike.” He finished ten repetitions, then started another set. “I figure I'll relax when I'm a hundred.”

  “You push the limits whenever you can, don't you?”

  Sam shrugged. “Another thing we have in common. Face it, Annie, we're meant to be together, and you already know I can't resist a woman in red lace.” Sam studied the churning water. “By the way, what are you wearing in there?”

  “None of your business.”

  His mouth moved a little. “I could make it my business.”

  She crossed her arms stiffly. “I wanted to be alone out here.”

  “Just ignore me,” Sam said.

  “Fine.” As she spoke, Annie slid the book under her towel.

  “What are you reading?”

  “Nothing special.” She spoke quickly, trying to block Sam's hand as he reached under the towel, but he was too fast.

  “Thirty Days to a Stress-Free Sex Life?” His smile widened. “Sounds useful.” He flipped through several pages and stopped at random. “Take this idea, here on page fifty-six. The one with the whipped cream and the bowl of fruit.” He skimmed the page, one brow raised. “I'll never think of avocados and strawberries in the same way again.” He studied Annie. “Wanna try it?”

  There was just a moment of hesitation before she shook her head.

  “How about adapting this one for the blue exercise ball?” He pointed to a diagram. “Just think what this would do for my lower-body strength. You can write it all up in your final report for the Navy, complete with your own therapeutic diagrams.”

  He saw her lips twitch.

  A good sign.

  “Maybe we should try chapter six. I suggest putting pillows on the wooden bench on your porch. I'll go round up the candles.”

  “Are you biologically unable to hear the word no?”

  “No.” Sam was grinning. “I say it all the time to other people and mean it.”

  He did a final rep with the barbell, then winced.

  “Sam, what happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Of course something happened. You were twisting to the right, then you froze.”

  “Look, it was nothing. Just a twinge, okay?”

  “Get over here and let me see.”

  “There's no need.”

  Annie shot out of the water. “Now.”

  Sam watched in fascination, barely aware of the throbbing at his right shoulder. Today she was wearing some kind of leopardskin-print bodysuit with little hooks down the front. The water left it glistening and translucent against her.

  “Sam?”

  He had to swallow to talk. “What?”

  “You're staring.”

  “Me?” In another minute he was going to feel his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh. Your suit. It's—interesting.”

  “Forget the suit.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Not possible, Doc. Not with you in it, looking good enough to nibble slowly from stem to stern.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “I need to look at your shoulder.”

  His gaze hardened. “Fine.” He unsnapped his jeans and shucked them with no wasted movement. “This way you can see better.” He stepped into the water beside her, trying not to watch that unbelievable body showcased in see-through leopard print or want her long legs wrapped around him.

  “You're sweating, Sam.”

  “Probably.”

  “You look really done in.” She leaned against his side, her breasts skimming his chest as she gently palpated his shoulder. “Where does it hurt?”

  All over, he thought grimly. But especially where she touched him. “About the same.”

  Annie slid over his thigh, fingering pressure points along his neck and back. “Better?”

  He shook his head. Begging was a real possibility if he opened his mouth.

  Annie straddled his other thigh. “How about this?”

  He caught her waist, holding her still. “You don't want to know, honey.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If this is some kind of macho ploy to trick me into having sex—”

  “Stop calling it sex,” Sam said tightly. “And it isn't a trick. My shoulder happens to hurt like hell. Problem is, the rest of me hurts even more.”

  The water churned around them. Steam drifted past Annie's face. Sam saw something move in her eyes, but he couldn't say what.

  “So yo
u're in pain.”

  He nodded.

  She rested a palm against his chest. “Starting here?”

  And shooting straight south, Sam thought wryly. It wasn't the sort of thing you could conceal in a pair of briefs, either. “Roughly, yes.”

  Annie traced the dark curve of a recent scar at his shoulder. “This must hurt, too.”

  Her touch was killing him, actually. “Sometimes. Did I tell you I love your hair?”

  She studied him gravely. “Why do you always have to push so hard?”

  “Because it's what I do.”

  After a long time she nodded. “So I've been told. You don't ever make things easy, do you?”

  “Easy was never on my agenda.” Sam bit back a groan as her body rocked against him in the water. He moved back, closer to the waterfall. He wasn't going to push Annie if she didn't want him.

  But when he moved, she followed.

  Sam frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Something stupid, probably. You see, I was trying to do the right thing before. The practical thing.”

  “Tear off my clothes and have your way with me in a night of wild, abandoned sex?” he said hopefully.

  “No.” The swirl of emotions was back in her eyes. Sam realized it was tenderness laced with regret. “I was trying to say good-bye, ace. Fast and painless, the way good-byes work best. We both know we don't have any kind of future together.”

  Sam's hands tightened. “Says who?”

  “Says just about anyone with eyes.”

  He was getting damned tired of people telling him about the future he didn't have. “Then a lot of people are idiots. They have eyes but they still manage to be blind.” He coaxed a damp curl off her shoulder as hot, frothy waves lapped at his skin.

  The sudden narrowing of Annie's eyes told him she felt it too.

  “So what do we do next?” Her voice was grave. Sam heard the unspoken questions that neither was able to face yet.

  He felt his muscles tighten as he pulled her onto his lap. “We make tonight count.” He traced her hip slowly.