by Amelia Autin
The doorbell rang.
“Showtime,” Dirk said under his breath, calling upon all his acting abilities to pin a smile on his face and greet the man who’d betrayed his trust. Who’d sold out his daughters for money. Dirk wanted to pummel him into bloody pulp, but he couldn’t. He had to open the door, welcome him in and let Mei-li take over.
“Mike. Rafe.” Dirk shook both their hands. “Come on in.”
Both men strode through the foyer into the living room. “Where are Linden and Laurel?” Rafe asked, betraying his surprise.
“They already ate,” Dirk said. “Vanessa’s washing them up.”
Mike glanced around. “Where’s Chet? I thought he was on duty.”
Dirk smiled. “He is. He’s with my daughters. Can you blame me for being a little overprotective?”
Mike laughed. “No, can’t blame you at all.”
Mei-li stepped forward, Jason at her elbow. “Rafe, Mike, I don’t think you’ve met my brother, Jason Moore.” She turned to Jason. “Jason, this is Mike Beckett and Rafe Johnson. You don’t know them. But you know all about them.”
Rafe’s face creased into a puzzled frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means one of you was working for Terrell Blackwood,” Mei-li said softly. “And we probably never would have known—did you know Blackwood committed suicide when Dirk rescued his daughters?—except you got greedy.”
“I don’t follow you,” Mike said.
“Don’t you?” Mei-li faced him, and her voice was even softer.
“No, I don’t.” But Dirk could hear the bluster in Mike’s voice, could see the way his eyes shifted. “Rafe, do you know what this is about?”
“You followed us night before last, Mike,” she said, ruthless now. “You knew we were heading for the Clock Tower, but that’s all you knew. So you had to follow us. How else would you have known where we dropped the last ransom package?”
“I was at the hotel.” Mike gestured to his fellow bodyguard. “We walked there together. Tell them, Rafe.”
“Yeah,” Rafe admitted. “We walked to the hotel together. But then I went to my room. You went to yours.”
“You knew the kidnappers had no intention of retrieving any of the ransom money we delivered that day. Because you knew it was just a ruse to keep Dirk busy. But you couldn’t bear leaving a quarter million where anyone might find it. So, early yesterday morning, you walked past the Clock Tower and down the pier. You took the staircase down to the water, and you picked up the grocery bag.”
Mike was sweating and his breathing was irregular. “You can’t prove that.”
Mei-li smiled coldly, and Dirk wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of that smile. “But we can, Mike. You didn’t know it, but that ransom package—like all the ransom packages—were under close observation. You were seen retrieving the money, then were followed back to your hotel. The person who followed you didn’t know who you were...not until later. But he unerringly picked your picture out of a six-pack. You know what a six-pack is, don’t you, Mike? You were a policeman for nine years.”
“Okay, I picked up the ransom money. But that doesn’t prove anything. That doesn’t prove I intended to keep it. And it doesn’t prove I had anything to do with the kidnapping.”
Mei-li turned to her brother. “Tell him, Jason.”
Until this evening, Dirk had never seen Mei-li’s brother without black greasepaint smeared over his face. Now, as he looked at Jason, he remembered Mei-li’s statement that only a very discerning eye could tell Chinese blood flowed through his veins. It wasn’t obvious, just a slight quirk to his brown eyes that wasn’t noticeable unless you were looking for it. Eyes that were hard and cold as they stared down Mike Beckett.
“Even before you were spotted retrieving the ransom bag, I had a thorough background check done on you. On both of you,” he amended, glancing at Rafe. “Rafe checked out. You didn’t. How were you planning to pay off those gambling debts you incurred last year?” he asked with a faint smile. When Mike just gaped at him, Jason continued. “I obtained your cell phone records, too. Quite a curious call pattern. Several calls over the past few days to an anonymous number belonging to a disposable cell phone here in Hong Kong. Who do you know in Hong Kong, Mike? Who could you call that many times?”
When no answer was forthcoming, Jason continued inexorably, “And several months before you arrived in Hong Kong, calls back and forth between your cell phone and another anonymous number, another disposable cell phone purchased in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Who do you know in Minnetonka, Mike? Terrell Blackwood?”
Dirk stepped forward. “You were on duty when Hannah ‘fell’ down the stairs and broke her leg,” he said coldly. “Did you push her? Were you trying to get her out of the way to make the kidnapping go smoother?”
“I...I...” Mike was backing away.
“Someone gave Dirk’s cell phone number to the kidnappers,” Mei-li added in an implacable voice. “Only a very few people could have done that. Including you.”
All at once, Mike was holding a snub-nosed pistol in his right hand, pointing it right at Mei-li. “That’s enough,” he snarled.
Dirk started forward and Mike swung the gun toward him. “Don’t even think about it. I could kill you just as soon as look at you.” He turned back to Mei-li. “I should have known the minute you showed up you were bad news,” he said viciously. “I warned Croft, but he—” Mike broke off when he realized he’d betrayed himself.
“Gabe Croft,” Jason said, almost conversationally. “They fingerprinted him after he was arrested, and Interpol identified him early this morning. Thank you, Mike. That’s really all we needed to put the final nail in your coffin.”
Mike cursed, and with his finger on the trigger took aim at Jason. Dirk dived toward Mike’s legs at the same time Rafe tackled him from the right. A shot rang out, but the bullet buried itself harmlessly in the ceiling. Dirk wrestled the gun away while Rafe got Mike in a stranglehold, and suddenly Patrick was there with an electrical cord he’d ripped off one of the living room lamps. Between the three of them, they tied Mike’s hands securely behind his back.
Dirk stood, then turned abruptly and was surprised to see Mei-li’s brother returning a gun to his shoulder holster. “The heroics weren’t necessary,” Jason murmured, his lips twitching as if he wanted to smile but wouldn’t. “But I suppose thanks are in order.”
Dirk couldn’t help it. He laughed. His eyes met Mei-li’s, and hers were brimming over with sudden humor that matched his. “I guess it’s true,” Dirk said. “The Brits do have a talent for understatement.”
Epilogue
Dirk proposed to Mei-li the next day...and she turned him down. “Stockholm syndrome,” she told him gravely. “Have you heard of it?”
“Yeah, but how does that apply here?” he asked, completely at sea. “I wasn’t your hostage.”
“No, but...you’re grateful. That might be coloring your perspective.”
“Hell, yeah, I’m grateful—to you and Jason. But I’m not asking Jason to marry me,” he said with dry humor.
She laughed a little at that, but then said, “Four days, Dirk. Four intense days.” She turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “You can’t fall in love with someone in four days.”
“You did.”
She swung back around. “Yes, but...”
Inside, he was ecstatic that she at least acknowledged she loved him, but he couldn’t figure out why—if she loved him—she was turning him down. “But what?”
“But how do you know you really love me? It’s different for me—I’ve had eleven years to get over Sean. Bree hasn’t even been gone two years. What if what you’re feeling is...I don’t know...you being on the rebound? Combined with that gratitude you feel.”
Bree’s
name shook him a little, but he said in a low voice, “Loving you doesn’t mean I don’t still love her. I always will. But there’s room in my heart for both of you. Is that wrong? Bree was a big part of my life—the biggest part of my life—for years. But she’s dead. I finally accepted that...when I met you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Ask me again when you finish filming your movie with my father. If you still want to marry me then.”
“Are you telling me I can’t see you for ten weeks?”
“No. Oh, no.” She twisted her fingers distractedly, and he was surprised. Mei-li was always so assured. So confident. This really didn’t seem like her at all. “I want to be a part of your life. I want to get to know your daughters. But I...I don’t want to sleep with you again.”
It made him pause for a minute, because their passion had burned white-hot every time they’d touched. Every time they’d kissed. He knew he’d pleased her the night they’d spent together. He knew it, just as he knew she loved him.
Then it came to him. She loved him. And, loving him, she was afraid that if they slept together she wouldn’t be able to bear it if he decided that he didn’t love her, after all.
Tenderness washed through him. “Deal,” he said. “I’ll give you the time you ask for. But when I ask you again in ten weeks’ time, be prepared to say yes. Because I won’t accept no for an answer again.”
* * *
The streets of Kowloon were teeming with people when Dirk DeWinter walked out of the soundstage ten weeks later and approached the waiting black Rolls-Royce that would take him back to the Peninsula Hotel.
“Thanks, Patrick,” he told his driver, who held the door for him. He leaned back against the leather seat, enjoying the stream of cold air blowing from the vent. Just walking from the soundstage to the Rolls in the intense heat and humidity had left him uncomfortable. “I sure am glad to be done,” Dirk said, satisfied but exhausted. “Hong Kong in July is pure misery. How do the locals stand it?”
Patrick grinned into the rearview mirror. “Guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”
Dirk returned the grin, but didn’t say anything more—he didn’t want to jinx his luck. Mei-li’s family all knew his intentions. He’d refused to keep it a secret. But she still had to say yes.
* * *
Mei-li fussed over the two-person table in her tiny dining room, deciding at the last minute to replace the romantic white candles with red ones. She wasn’t superstitious—well, not much anyway. But white was the color of mourning, red the color of celebration. And tonight she was going to wear the same red dress she’d been wearing the first night she’d met Dirk. “Good omen?” she muttered to herself. She slanted a quick look at the clock and realized she was going to be late if she didn’t hurry. She’d planned to take a long, luxurious bath before dinner, but she was going to have to settle for a quick shower instead.
Ten weeks, she mused as the water sluiced over her body. How was it possible ten weeks had flown by so quickly? Dirk had been working twelve-and fourteen-hour days, not to mention the amount of time he devoted to his daughters. And she’d had her work, too. One week she hadn’t seen him at all. But every day he’d sent her something. A song. A poem. Sometimes a quotation, famous or obscure. Just something to let her know he was thinking of her.
And she’d reciprocated...although he didn’t know it. But every night she’d written to him in a little journal she kept. Not long letters—a paragraph here, a sentence or two there. Sometimes it was in response to what he’d sent her. And sometimes it was a confession of the way her body longed for his. Tonight...if he asked to marry him tonight...she would give him the journal. So he’d know he’d always been in her heart.
* * *
Dinner was over, the table cleared and the dishes done. Mei-li had wanted to just clear the table and leave everything in the kitchen, but Dirk had insisted on washing while she dried. Then he’d taken her hand and led her into her small living room.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked her. “This isn’t like you at all.”
“Because...” Her voice trailed away.
“It can’t be a surprise.”
“No, but...”
“I told you ten weeks ago I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Is that what’s worrying you?”
“Oh, no, but...”
“You can’t be worried about losing your career. I told you, I can live anywhere. Hannah already agreed to move to Hong Kong, so she’ll bridge the gap with Linden and Laurel when Vanessa marries Chet. And I have the money to take my daughters back to the States to visit their grandparents, or whenever you’re afraid they’ll lose touch with their heritage.”
“It’s not that, but...”
“Finish one sentence,” he told her. “Just one.” She laughed, the deep, throaty laugh he remembered late at night in bed when thoughts of her kept him from sleeping.
He took both her hands in his, smiling a little to himself. “You know,” he told her. “The night we rescued my daughters? I remember looking at your hands and thinking you could move mountains. That’s so true.”
She breathed deeply and snuggled closer, laying her head against his shoulder.
“I was also—I think humbled is the word, humbled you’d decided I needed rescuing as much as my daughters. That’s so true, too. I did need rescuing.”
Her eyes softened, and her hand came up to caress his cheek. “I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone.”
“If I have you, I’ll never be alone again.” He drew a deep breath. “I love you, Mei-li. I didn’t think I’d ever love again after I lost Bree, but I do. I always will. You wanted me to wait. So I waited. You wanted me to be sure. I can’t be any more sure than I am at this moment. It seems so simple to me. I love you. You love me. I want to build a life with you. Which, for me, means I want you to be my wife.”
He laughed softly in self-deprecation. “I’m not used to making up my own lines. I do a lot better when I have a script to work from.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Mei-li told him, her eyes misty.
“Then, put me out of my misery, would you please? Just say yes?”
“Yes.” She barely breathed the word, but he heard the gladness in her voice.
He wasn’t prepared for the fierce exultation that flooded his body. He hadn’t been sure what her answer would be, but...it wasn’t a surprise. So why...?
He didn’t have time to think, because before he knew it his arms were full of warm, soft woman. His lips were touched by an angel’s lips. And a ten-week ache exploded into a fiery inferno.
* * *
They lay together in the aftermath of loving made all the more intense for the weeks of self-denial. But Dirk knew he would never get enough of Mei-li. That ten years from now...twenty...thirty...she’d still make him ache. And, woman that she was, she’d make that ache disappear. Because it wasn’t just a bond of the flesh, but a bond of the heart.
“You brought me back to life, Mei-li.” he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple. “You are my life.”
She placed her hand over his heart, and in that instant he saw his future spread out before him. Rich in laughter. Rich in love. Rich in everything that made life worth living. Because of one slight woman...who could move mountains.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from
THE ROYAL SPY’S REDEMPTION by Addison Fox
Don’t miss the next thrilling installment in the
MAN ON A MISSION miniseries, coming soon!
And don’t forget the previous titles in the miniseries:
LIAM’S WITNESS PROTECTION
ALEC’S ROYAL ASSIGNMENT
KING’S RANSOM
MCKINNON’S ROYAL MISSION
CODY WALKER’S WOMAN
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The Royal Spy’s Redemption
by Addison Fox
Chapter 1
Growing up with five brothers, Gabriella Sanchez assumed she’d experienced everything the male of the species could throw at her. From the gross to the ridiculous, she was quite sure she’d seen it all.