by Pat White
“Excuse me?”
“It will put her in even more danger. If she knows, Grace’s questions will only bring things to the surface again.”
“The radicals are hoping to find Mary Logan’s list,” Gerry explained. “They want to use it to raise money to revitalize their cause by selling it to our enemies.”
“Good God.”
“If we find the list there will be no reason for this new group to pursue Grace. We’ll get our advantage back. And as long as you two are here with us you’re safe.”
Bobby struggled to make sense of it all. The only thing that matters is keeping her safe.
Bobby left to find Grace and he ran into Lydia in the hallway. “She’s outside,” she said, her voice softer, more compassionate than before.
“Where?”
“I gave her a cup of hot tea and a blanket and sent her to the barn to sit with her mother’s things.” Lydia touched his arm. “I’m not with the others,” she said, then smiled. “Her family were good people.”
He pushed through the back door into the cool night. Heading for the barn, his mind filled with confusion. Would she ever be safe? Or would protecting her be his job forever?
He could think of worse assignments.
He entered the barn. A small lantern lit the corner where she sat on a blanket.
She glanced up as he approached. “Lydia said…she said everything in here is for real. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.”
“Grace,” he started, then went blank. What could he say?
“What does it matter anymore?” She tossed a pearl-handled comb back into the trunk.
“I know what matters.” He shifted to the ground beside her. She glanced up into his eyes with a lost, yet angry expression. “What matters is how you see yourself, love,” he said, fingering her hair behind her ear.
“I don’t know who I am, even less than I did when I started this trip.” She pinned him with her sad blue eyes. “I feel disconnected from everything. My dad lied to me, my mom was not what I thought she was, these people—” she glanced at the house, “—used and manipulated me, for what? To get a look at my mother’s journal because she was a terrorist. Nothing in my life feels real.”
Then her eyes were on him again. “Except you. This.” She leaned forward and kissed him. He held her shoulders and broke the kiss.
“Grace, this isn’t right.”
“Don’t push me away.”
“I have to.”
“Why? Because…because I’m a fool, right? Because I’m such a stupid girl that I was fooled by my father, by those people in there, even by Steven? My God, would he have married me for his job?”
She stood and paced to the other side of the barn. “The way he pretended to care about me, the way he touched me.” She shivered. “Yeah, you’re right not to fall for a girl like me. A complete idiot.”
“Stop it.” He went to her.
“Why? It’s true. You’re probably snickering with the rest of them at the stupid American girl.”
“Don’t say that. You’re bright, and witty and beautiful. I can’t kiss you because I want you so badly I won’t stop there. I want to drive myself into you, possess you in every way possible, and even then it won’t be enough. I’ve never wanted to possess a woman like that.” He caught his breath. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“You will be hurt. Those bloody terrorists will hurt you right in front of me because I’m distracted by how I feel about you. Let’s get into the house where we’ll be safe.”
He took her hand and led her out of the barn, across the green grass to the house. They went upstairs to their room, seeing no sign of the others.
He couldn’t believe he’d so completely lost it, had confessed how he felt about her and what he wanted to do to her. But she didn’t seem put off by his outburst. He didn’t read fear or apprehension in her eyes.
No, the reflection of desire sparkled back at him. Bloody hell.
He stood by the window, staring up at the stars, when he heard Grace close the bathroom door behind her. He would do anything to ease her pain. The poor girl deserved so much more out of life than being lied to by the people around her. She deserved to be loved and respected. It seemed an easy assignment for Bobby. Too easy.
A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom wearing a nightshirt. She padded to the bed and climbed under the covers. He reached over, turned off the night lamp and went back to his spot by the window. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
“Bobby?” she said.
“Yes?”
“Would you…would you mind lying with me?”
You wanted to know how to ease her pain, well, this is it, mate. All she wants is a warm body beside her in bed, not to feel so bloody alone. It’s a small request.
He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes. Arms behind his head, he stretched out beside her, on top of the covers.
They lay there, bodies touching through the bedding, for a good five minutes. Then she turned over and pressed her cheek against his chest. He thought he’d break apart inside.
Suddenly she shifted up in bed and kissed him.
It started as a sweet kiss, a kiss of thanks, but he couldn’t control himself and opened to her, wanting more, needing to taste her.
He broke the kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she said, kissing him again, practically climbing on top of him.
He wanted to tell her to stop, that she was on the verge of falling apart and was turning to him not because she wanted Bobby, but because she wanted somebody.
Isn’t that what his one-night affairs had always been? For the few hours he’d spent between the sheets with a woman, their bodies tangled and humming with sex, he’d forgotten how empty he felt inside.
Which is probably how Grace felt right now; empty.
And she was turning to Bobby to fill her up, with hope.
He’d do this one thing for her, tonight, and never again. He’d surrender himself to whatever she needed of him. Completely.
NOTHING MADE SENSE anymore. Everyone had lied.
What was real?
This, she thought, kissing Bobby Finn. His lips were warm and soft and opening to her with such need.
What had he said? That he wanted to drive himself inside her and even then it would never be enough?
She suspected he hadn’t meant to say it, but she knew exactly how he felt.
She’d been drawn to him from the first time they’d met on the train. There had been something tender and loving in his eyes: something genuine.
Pulling his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, she caught him watching her, his eyes half-closed, his lips curved in a subtle smile. She pulled his shirt up and over his head, admiring his firm, slightly hairy chest.
He could have taken the lead, but she suspected he’d had his share of women and knew exactly how to pleasure them. Instead, he lay with arms stretched to his sides, letting her have her way with him, being the gentleman.
Her life was in shambles, yet there was one thing she knew for certain: what she felt for Bobby Finn was real and it was more than simple lust. She’d made an emotional connection to him that first day he’d comforted her on the train. She’d recognized his tender nature beneath the jokes he’d used to cover his pain.
She slipped off her nightshirt, exposing herself to him. “Bobby,” she whispered, as she pressed kisses against his chest and down to his stomach. She un-snapped his jeans and slid them off, his need obvious, exciting her. Heat pooled between her legs.
She touched him and he moaned, his right hand clenching the sheets as if he struggled not to lose control. Yet she wanted him to lose control. She wanted him stripped of pretense and politeness. She wanted to know that his intensity matched her own.
Sliding up his body, skin-to-skin, she nibbled and kissed her way to his lips, kissed him once, then broke the kiss and said, “Touch me.”
It must have been the permission he’d been waiting for, because he rolled her onto her back and straddled her, his gaze taking in her breasts with a twinkle in his dark-brown eyes. He leaned forward and nuzzled her left nipple and she cried out, grabbing his silk boxer shorts and pulling them down, off his butt.
He eyed her and smiled. “Wild wench,” he teased, then kissed her right breast, taking her nipple into his mouth, his tongue flirting with it, driving her completely insane.
If he didn’t bury himself inside her soon, she was going to scream in agony. She gripped his buns with trembling fingers, pulling him closer, letting him know she needed him inside her, now.
But he resisted, the tip of his need teasing at her opening.
“Wait.” He leaned across the bed and pulled a condom from his wallet in his jeans.
He tore the foil packet with his teeth. “Allow me,” she said, taking it from him.
His eyes widened as she pulled the condom from the packet. She reached down to slide it in place and he clenched his jaw, barely able to control himself.
Yet there was no reason to hold back. They were safe in each other’s arms, able to trust completely and love without condition.
“Bobby,” she breathed. “Please.”
He leaned forward and nuzzled her breast, then closed his mouth over hers, teasing and taunting with his tongue. She opened to him, spreading her legs for encouragement, then she gripped his buttocks and pushed him inside her, crying out as they joined together, the rhythm slow and steady, her body on fire.
He reached between them and gently stroked her sensitive nub. She arched, cried out, and he drove himself deep, just as he’d promised, her body absorbing him completely.
He collapsed against her, his heavy breath warming her skin, filling her heart.
This was real.
This was good.
This was love.
BOBBY HAD NEVER felt this way about another living soul.
He stroked the bare skin of her back, thinking they should get up soon. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read twelve-fifteen.
She was probably exhausted from their marathon night of sex. No, it was more than that. Last night with Grace had been Bobby’s first true experience of making love to a woman.
Love.
A complicated emotion, and one he’d never truly felt before.
Did Grace feel the same, or was this a case of finding comfort in a stranger’s arms?
Stranger, mate? Is that what you are to her? Possibly. But Grace was no stranger to Bobby, not deep in his soul. She’d peeked into his ugly shadows and had seen his ghosts, yet still she wanted him inside of her.
She was just his job. It would all be over once he got her back to the States.
She stretched and opened her eyes, smiled at him.
“Hey, you,” she said, kissing his cheek. Warmth floated across his skin and down his neck to settle around his heart. Nothing would make him feel like this ever again.
At least he’d felt it this once. At least he knew it was possible for him to experience this kind of love. But he didn’t want it from anyone else.
He wanted it from Grace.
“What are you thinking?” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“What an amazing woman I have in my bed.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all your one-night stands.” She smiled and placed her cheek to his chest.
His heart broke. Of course, that’s what she considered last night. He wouldn’t correct her. If that’s how she wanted it, he’d go along.
“I hope you know I’m kidding,” she whispered against his skin.
He didn’t answer, not sure what to say.
Her head popped up and she fixed her eyes on him. “One night of that isn’t nearly enough, you know that, right?”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He smiled, but still wasn’t sure where that left him. Was he her sexual playmate or potential boyfriend?
She laid her head against his chest. “I guess this vacation has been a bust.”
“A bust?”
“A failure. A disappointment.”
“So sorry, Miss Fairmont.”
Her head popped up again. “No, not the you-and-me part. I meant the whole soul-searching part. I guess I would have been better off not coming at all.” She rested her chin on her upturned palm and glanced lovingly at him. “But then I never would have met you, would I?”
“Probably not.”
“Then, it wasn’t a complete bust.” She blinked and got a faraway look in her eye. “I just can’t believe Mom was a terrorist.”
She wasn’t! he wanted to shout. She was a government agent assigned to infiltrate the PIRA.
He knew the agents were right; if Grace knew the truth she’d start asking questions and put herself in danger. She needed to let this go; she needed to move on.
With or without Bobby. He had to be fine with her decision. Only, he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep the secret about her mother from her. She sensed things about him; puzzled out his thoughts.
“You look awfully serious this morning,” she said.
“Didn’t get my proper night’s rest, is all.”
“Yeah? You blaming me for that, big guy?”
“Wouldn’t think of it, Miss Fairmont.”
She sighed. “What do I do now?”
“I’m sorry?”
“British Intelligence thinks PIRA might be after me, but why?”
“That list of agents was never found. PIRA thinks you could lead them to it.”
“But I didn’t even know my mother, and I surely don’t condone her actions.”
Bugger, he ached to tell her the truth, that her mother was not a terrorist, but an agent assigned to prevent terrorism.
“Yet, she was my mother.” She glanced at him. “No matter what she did, or who she was, she loved me. I guess that’s what matters most.”
There was a knock at the door. Bobby got up, put on his shorts and jeans and answered it. “Cousin Anne” stood in the doorway.
“Here’s the diary,” she said. “If you two wouldn’t mind, we’d like to talk to you downstairs.”
Bobby nodded and shut the door. He handed Grace the diary.
A half hour later they went downstairs, holding hands, and found the two female agents in the kitchen, sitting at the counter drinking tea.
“I wouldn’t mind some of that,” Bobby said, searching through the tea bags for a breakfast blend. Grace stayed close to him, ignoring the agents.
Gerry came in through the back door and removed his boots. “Hope everyone slept well,” he said.
“We did,” Bobby said. Grace blushed and stared at Bobby’s tea.
“We’ve had word from London. The radical group after the agent list is on their way to Pitlochry.”
Bobby automatically put his arm around Grace and held her close.
“Which means?” she said, defiance in her voice.
“Which means they are determined. And so are we.” He paced to the island opposite her. “We’re determined to protect you as well as to find the list.”
“I don’t have the damn list,” she said.
“No, but they don’t know that.” He glanced at the women. “We’ve been planning all night and have come up with a strategy.”
Bobby clenched his fist. He sensed what was coming and didn’t like it.
“Strategy for what?” Grace asked.
“For ending this,” Anne said. “For making sure you’re safe, even after you go back to America.”
“And what would that be?” Bobby pushed.
“Grace meets with Harry Franklin to give him the list, one that we’ve provided. We’ll take it from there.”
“You mean, you eliminate him,” Bobby clarified.
Gerry stared him down. “He runs a group of terrorists that could potentially kill thousands. We’ll do what’s necessary.”
“It’s dangerous,” Bobby said. “She won’t do it.
”
Grace glanced at him, then at Gerry. “Actually, I will. I won’t live my life in the shadow of my mother’s sins. Stopping these guys, saving lives, will make up for the ones that were lost. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I can’t let you do this, Grace,” Bobby said.
Grace turned to Gerry. “What time and where?”
Bobby glared at the bastard. He was going to use Grace’s guilt to his advantage. Bobby wouldn’t allow it.
“We’ve already sent a message from your e-mail address asking to meet Harry at Blair Castle this evening, nine o’clock,” Gerry said.
“You bastard,” Bobby said. “You weren’t going to give her a choice.”
“Not true. We knew she’d make the right choice.”
“You call that the right choice? Hooking her up with a bloody terrorist?”
“She’ll be safe. We’ll be close by.”
“I’ll be closer,” Bobby said.
“She should do this alone,” Gerry said.
“Rubbish. I’m paid to protect her. I’m going with her.” He respected her need to do this and knew she could take care of herself, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her being in danger.
“No, Bobby, it’s okay.” She turned to Gerry. “I hate what you’ve done, how you’ve lied and manipulated me. I’m ending it all at Blair Castle. What’s the plan?”
“We’ll take you up there for a dry run and show you the equipment,” Anne said, walking toward her.
“Grace, listen to me—”
“Don’t worry,” she said, kissing Bobby on the cheek, her blue eyes brightened by their lovemaking.
“I’m coming with you. We’ve got to talk.”
“I need to do this on my own, without leaning on anyone. I’ll see you later.”
She left the kitchen with Anne.
“No, Grace.” He started after her, but Jimmy got him in some kind of fancy headlock.
“Let me go, you bloody beast.”
Gerry walked around to face Bobby. “Can’t do that, mate. Can’t risk you telling her that her mum wasn’t a terrorist. She might lose her motivation.” Gerry reached over and stuck something into Bobby’s arm. The room spun, then faded to black.
Chapter Fourteen
It was well past suppertime when she got back and found Bobby fast asleep. Boy, he must have been exhausted from their night of lovemaking.