Gideon turned to squint in the direction of the terminal. "If I'm not mistaken, that's her coming out the door now. She mentioned she wanted to make one last phone call home before we got airborne."
"Oh." Olivia's stomach sank as she thought of that word. Home. Did it mean the place she'd bought on Green Ivy Way with the money her Uncle Marshall had left her? Funny, but she'd never quite thought of that house as home. It had been a sanctuary, but never home.
"After you," Gideon said, at the foot of the stairway. His expression was bland, courteous, as he didn't quite meet her eyes.
"Um, thank you," Olivia replied. She went up the stairs, one foot in front of the other, on her way 'home.'
~~~
Brittany was panting, but feeling healthy and full of vigor as she reached the top of the stairs and the door of the airplane.
Ah, it was a wonder what a few days of uninterrupted rest could do to restore a person to full power. She'd woken from her bout with whatever dread disease she'd contracted feeling helpless and weepy. No more. She'd had half a dozen conversations with Blake over the past two days. She'd made twice as many calls to her lawyer.
Her ex was damn well going to get a fight, and a good one, if he tried any monkey business with her custody of the children.
And to think she'd ever bewailed his absence from the boys' lives. If he even blinked wrong, Brittany was going to see that he lost visitation rights, too.
She stood just inside the door and looked down the length of the plane, feeling strong, feeling frisky...until she saw the back of Peter's head and his unmistakable honey-gold hair. Already holding a magazine, he was sitting by himself. Brittany's heart turned over in her chest.
He was a man, she reminded herself, determined to put a stop to that heart-turning-over business. Another Blake in disguise.
But Blake wouldn't have flown halfway across the world to save her butt, particularly when he'd only had to go to all that trouble because she'd done something stupid. Blake wouldn't have left her alone to recover from her illness because he cared enough to figure out she wanted to be alone.
And Blake would certainly not have shielded her during a gun battle with his own body.
Brittany swallowed and suddenly didn't feel so all-powerful any more. The man definitely shook her. He didn't behave the way she'd come to expect a man to behave, and she didn't react to him the way she'd learned to react to a man. It was all so confusing.
Brittany shifted her weight and scowled. The safe thing, of course, would be to sit down in the empty seat right there next to the door of the airplane. The safe thing would be not even to acknowledge Peter's existence.
Unfortunately, the safe thing was starting to feel not so much safe as, well...craven. The man had saved her life.
Confused or not, at the very least, she owed him a 'thank you.'
She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk down the length of the plane, past Olivia sitting on one side of the aisle, and Gideon on the other, past Anja and Walter in a similar arrangement. She walked until she was directly next to Peter.
He was so concentrated on his magazine he didn't even notice she was there. She had to clear her throat. When he did look up, his eyes went very wide.
"Pardon me." Brittany pointed to the seat next to him. "Is this seat taken?" Now, what was that? Saying 'thank you' was one thing. Planning to sit next to him for the next several hours was another. Her heart abruptly picked up speed.
"Um, no. Sure. You can sit there." Peter's amber eyes showed a mixture of confusion and wariness.
Quickly, Brittany looked away. "Thanks." She squeezed past him and dropped into the adjacent seat. Her face flamed as she shoved her bag beneath the seat. Oh, boy, was this a mistake. He was so close; his strength and warmth and smell. She felt the insane urge to lean into him.
"Um," she said. Now was the time to do the thanking.
Peter was still watching her, very carefully.
Brittany closed her eyes. All she had to do was say it. 'Thank you. Thank you for helping to save my life.' Then she could smile and move to another seat.
She opened her eyes, but the words did not come out of her mouth.
"I...haven't had a chance to ask." Peter was the one who spoke, his voice low and deep. "How are you feeling?"
"Me? Oh, I feel great. Never better." Brittany inwardly winced at her own false enthusiasm — and cowardice.
Peter nodded. "Good."
All righty. Brittany took a deep breath, determined to do it, really do it this time. She opened her mouth — but something very different from a 'thank you' came out of it. "Uh, Blake's giving me hell about the boys." A little Brittany inside of her threw her hands over her mouth and gasped. Why had she said that, something so personal, something so...irrelevant? Why?
She saw Peter swallow. He must be mortified, Brittany thought. But instead of some awkward evasion, he said, "Any way I can help," and his amber eyes looked directly into hers.
As she met his gaze, the tide Brittany had been swimming against abruptly changed. She got it. She suddenly, finally, understood.
Peter was not Blake, or even close.
Peter wanted to help. Peter wouldn't fool around behind her back. In front of her face, maybe, but never behind her back. Peter liked her. Peter respected her...Peter loved her. He really loved her, the way a man should love a woman. In a thousand different ways he'd shown and proved it.
Brittany felt a lump in her throat that was about the size of Montana. She couldn't talk, she couldn't breathe. Peter loved her. He would never hurt her. Her chest felt tight, like something inside her was trying to expand but didn't have enough room.
"Um," Brittany finally managed to croak out. "Actually, I think there is a way you could help."
Peter tilted his head in question.
Incredibly nervous, she started to chatter. "See, the thing is, you're a pretty macho kinda guy. Martial arts, I suspect, like Dash. Plus there's that gun of yours, wherever it is you keep it — not that I'd expect you to use it, but it would give me some extra confidence. And Blake is basically a coward. With all that, I could probably avoid a costly and protracted court battle, and the anxiety of being without my kids."
Peter blinked. "I don't — Was there a question in there?"
"Oh." Brittany's face flamed. "Yeah. I'm — I'm asking if you'll come with me when I pick up Sean and Cam from Blake's place."
Peter blinked again. In fact, he stared.
Brittany's heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to explode. Had it been idiotic to ask this? She waited, unable to breathe.
"That," Peter finally remarked quietly, "is an awfully personal favor to ask."
Brittany forced a terrified breath in and then out. "Yeah," she agreed. "It is, isn't it?"
Their eyes met and held. More terrified than ever, Brittany heard amazing words spill out of her mouth. "Oh, Peter, I can't give you up, so I guess I've got to try. I want to try. Lord knows, I can't promise you anything. I'm a complete mess. But — but — "
Her words faded as he leaned toward her and covered her lips with his. Brittany closed her eyes. Relief flooded through her. Peter put his hand on the back of her head and held her close while he promised her the moon with his mouth.
"I want to try, too," he finally whispered back. He drew away enough so their eyes could meet once again. Slowly, his lips curved. "Are you going to let me say it?"
Brittany felt her lips curve upward, too. "Say what?"
He touched his forehead to hers. "That I love you."
"Oh, that." Brittany put a finger against his lips and giggled nervously. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she whispered, "You can say it, 'cause I love you, too."
If she'd had any doubts as to the step they were taking, the way Peter's eyes then closed dissolved the last of them. "I love you," he said once more, and kissed her again.
This time Brittany's eyes were the ones that closed. Oh yes, incredibly enough, risking everything was
making her happy. She put her hands on his face as they continued to kiss. Goodness, but she was so very happy.
~~~
Upon their arrival at the airport in San Diego, Gideon insisted on driving Olivia home. It was simply more of the chill, polite treatment as far as Olivia was concerned. But she was too exhausted to protest. Besides, she had no other ride.
Oh, Brittany and Peter had offered her a ride, but it was clear they'd managed to work out something significant on the airplane and they could use all the privacy they could get. Opting for a cab, Shana and Dash had also offered Olivia a ride, but they were too deliriously happy for her to be able to stand their company, truth be told.
So she let Gideon usher her through the special customs area apparently reserved for secret agents and out to the parking lot and his Porsche. She could have taken a cab home herself, but she had a sinking feeling her husband was finally ready to have it out with her.
After three days of agonized tension, she was ready to oblige him.
They drove in silence through the post-rush hour traffic and out of the downtown area. Gideon didn't even ask where she wanted to go. He just pointed the car toward the house on Green Ivy Way. Olivia stared out the window at the passing landscape.
Thirty minutes later, Gideon pulled up at the curb in front of Olivia's house. Olivia wondered if he was thinking, as she was, of how much had happened — all thoroughly preventable — since she'd last seen her front door.
He set the parking brake and then turned off the motor. Yup, Olivia thought, her stomach sinking. It was definitely showtime.
She didn't bother trying to get her bag out of the trunk. Gideon was going to insist on carrying it, anyway. She simply walked up the front walk, taking the key out of her purse as she did so. Gideon was a tense presence behind her as she unlocked the door and went inside.
Normal. Everything looked normal, as if nothing had happened. Olivia set her purse on the little table by the door and walked toward the kitchen. Comfort. Somehow, kitchens were always a place of comfort. The sun was slanting in a few last rays through the sliding glass door at the back.
Home, Olivia firmly told herself. This was now home.
There was a thump as Gideon set Olivia's big shoulder bag on the floor in the foyer. She stiffened. Showtime was drawing ever closer.
But it wasn't here yet. Olivia busied herself making a pot of coffee, more for something to do than because she wanted anything to drink. Gideon, meanwhile, strolled slowly into view, his hands dug into his front trouser pockets and his gaze fixed firmly out the back sliding glass door.
He came to a stop just in front of the glass, his mouth a straight, unyielding line, his eyes narrowed into the last rays of sunlight.
Olivia drew in a deep, shuddery breath. This might be showtime, but there was no reason it couldn't be a civil showtime. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked him. "Or, uh, something to eat?"
Gideon went very still. For a long moment he continued to stare out the sliding glass door before turning toward Olivia. She was struck dumb by the expression on his face. It was not angry, not disgusted, but — stark, ravaged, bleak. "How can you?" he asked, in a voice that matched his face.
Olivia had no idea how to respond. Her heart squeezed in her chest. "Um," she finally managed to whisper. "How can I what?"
"How can you offer me coffee, or something to eat?" Gideon continued, in the same, terrible tone.
"I — I was just trying to be polite."
"Polite?" Gideon took three steps toward her. "You want to be polite to me?"
Olivia's back straightened. All right, she was ready for the showdown, but Gideon was starting over-the-top. She lifted her chin. "Why shouldn't I be polite to you?"
His eyes widened. "How about the fact I nearly let you get killed? That might be a reason. Huh? Think so?" He tilted his head challengingly.
Olivia's mouth dropped open. "You didn't nearly get me killed."
"I didn't?"
Olivia could practically see Gideon's anger, surrounding him in a red-black haze. Anger at himself, she now realized.
"Sure seemed that way to me," he said.
"Well, I — " Olivia blinked rapidly, thoroughly flabbergasted. All this time she'd thought he was angry at her. Instead, he'd been eating away at himself. She felt a wave of compassion. "Oh, come on," she argued. "How could it have been your fault? I was the one who was stupid enough to try to find Anja on my own, without telling you."
Gideon shook his head vigorously. "I was supposed to be in charge of this mission. I was supposed to be in control. And I wasn't. Because — because — "
Olivia widened her eyes. "Because you can't be in control of everything. That's why not."
Gideon's jaw set. "You don't understand."
"Oh, yes I do. All too well." Olivia left her fortified position in the kitchen. "You think you have to be in control of everything, and so you take control of everything. But you aren't, really. In control of everything, that is. And so you simply come off as a — as a — big bully."
Olivia felt her face flush as she finished this speech. What was she doing? The man had saved her life! A minute ago she'd been swept away by compassion for his pain. A minute before that she'd been terrified he was going to say he was leaving her forever.
And now she was shouting at him?
Way to go, Olivia.
But Gideon hadn't turned around in disgust. He hadn't stormed out the door. He was standing there looking at her, his eyes narrowed, muscles tensed, chest heaving. "I wish I'd been a bigger bully," he said at last.
Olivia stood dumbstruck.
"I wish I hadn't let you out of my sight," he went on. "I wish I'd put a chain around you, attached to me. Do you have any idea — " His voice broke and he tried again. "Do you have any idea how I felt when you called me from that underground cell?"
No, but Olivia was getting a pretty good image now. All the same...his notion of how he could have prevented the fiasco was completely ridiculous. "Listen." She made a Herculean effort to keep her voice calm. "I understand how you must have hated feeling so helpless, and I freely confess it was stupid of me to get involved, but ask yourself, Gideon. Really, honestly, ask yourself: would I, or any of the other ladies, have hared off to Maria Island if you three men hadn't deliberately withheld information from us? Would we have done that if you'd just told us who you really were for crissake?"
Gideon tilted his head back and to one side. "You're saying you wouldn't have run off if we'd been honest with you?"
"Yes!" Olivia resisted the urge to throw her gaze heavenward. He finally seemed to get it. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
Looking even more suspicious, Gideon said, "Are you trying to tell me that if I'd told you from the very beginning that I was actually a secret agent, and that I happened to be trying to find your best friend Anja, who we believed had run off with a dangerous drug — if I had told you all that, you would have been just hunky dory with it? You would have said, 'Oh, okay, Gideon. I'm not upset you never told me about your real job. And I'll just trust you to find Anja without interfering or demanding to be involved.' Are you trying to tell me that?"
It was Olivia's turn to stop. Dammit. He kinda, almost had a legitimate argument there. Okay, he was absolutely right. If he'd told her everything, she would have been furious over his betrayal of the past six years. And she would have been worried sick about Anja. She would, indeed, have wanted to become involved. She'd have demanded to know everything that was going on, and she'd probably have demanded to go along with Gideon if he'd figured out Anja was on Maria Island.
They glared at each other for a while.
"Okay," Olivia finally said, and tried not to sound too grudging. "Okay, I...see your point."
"And I see yours," Gideon admitted.
Olivia felt her eyes widen.
He turned and took a pace toward the coffee table, his hands dug back into his pockets. "Of course I see your point. How couldn't I, after you l
eft me in the dark, yourself? It's..." He paused to roll his shoulders. "It's not a pleasant place to be."
"No," Olivia agreed, slowly.
He bit a corner of his lower lip and stared down at the coffee table. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "Sorry I kept you in the dark, made you have to wonder..."
A funny thrill started trembling within Olivia. This, an apology, was not anything she had ever expected from Gideon — and particularly not about this subject.
"I'm sorry, too," she found herself saying. "Sorry I deliberately tried to thwart you."
Gideon sighed. "I didn't give you much choice. I always told myself I couldn't tell you who I really was. There were security protocols. It would be a violation of my job. Or — or — ha! This was the really good one." He turned to give her a rueful half-smile. "I didn't want to put you in any danger."
"I keep telling you, Gideon, you can't blame yourself for that."
"Forget it, Olivia, I blame myself. But that isn't the point I'm trying to make. I had all of these excuses for keeping you in the dark, for not telling you who I really was or what I really did for a living. But none of them were the truth."
Olivia had moved to lean against the kitchen opening with her arms crossed over her chest. Now she went still inside. "What are you talking about?"
Gideon looked away from her. He heaved a deep sigh. "I didn't tell you who I really was because I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with me if you knew my real profession."
Olivia stopped breathing.
Meanwhile Gideon grimly studied the coffee table. "So, that's it," he said. "And, knowing what I know now, I wish I had told you all about myself, a month into our relationship when we both knew it was going somewhere. I wish I had told you — and I wish you had rejected me. Then you would never have been in the power of those machine gun monkeys. You never would have been injected with Anja's doomsday drug. You wouldn't have nearly gotten ripped to pieces in a gun battle — "
"And I never would have married you."
Gideon's jaw clenched.
Olivia uncrossed her arms. Propelled by the deepest force within her, she started across the floor toward him. "I wouldn't have met my other half. I wouldn't have had all the — all the joy you have brought me. All the love you've showered me with. I wouldn't have had the happiest years of my life."
Indiscreet Ladies of Green Ivy Way Page 28