by Diana Palmer
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” he began.
“It doesn’t matter, you know,” she replied with resignation. “I love him. I never stopped. The past four years have been so empty, David. I’m tired of running from it. At least he still wants me, you know. I may not win entirely, but I’ll give Daphne a run for her money,” she added with a tiny smile.
“That’s the spirit. You might consider, too, that if he didn’t care, why would he want to marry you?”
She couldn’t tell him that. She changed the subject and led him on a discussion of local politics.
But she did go around in a daze for the rest of the day. She wouldn’t have believed what had happened if it hadn’t been for the potent evidence of it in her untried body. Her memories were sweet. She couldn’t even be bothered to worry about Daphne anymore. She did worry about Steven. If a crazed terrorist was after him, how would the authorities be able to stop him? And what about Ahmed?
The questions worried her, so she found solace in her exercises. Even so, she only did them halfheartedly. Ballet had been her life for years, but now she thought about loving Steven and having a baby of her own. Suddenly her fear of childbirth seemed to diminish, and her disappointment over her injury faded. Ballet was a hobby. It was nothing more than a hobby. She was daydreaming now, of little baby clothes and bassinets and toys scattered around a room that contained Steven and herself as well as a miniature version of one of them. Anything seemed possible; life was sweet.
Steven tossed and turned until dawn and went into the office in a cold, red-eyed daze. His life had shifted without warning. He’d made love to Meg and nothing would ever be the same again. If he was besotted with her before, it was nothing to what he was now that he’d known her intimately. He wasn’t certain that he could even work.
Daphne brought in the mail. She saw his worried expression and paused in front of the desk.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked with the ease of friendship. “Can I help?”
“Sure,” he agreed, leaning back in his big desk chair. “Tell me how to explain to Meg, to whom I’ve just become reengaged, why I’m going out with you tonight.”
She whistled. “That’s a good one.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Can’t you get permission to tell her the truth?”
He shook his head. “Your own fiancé told me not to tell. He thinks too many people are in the know already.” He closed his eyes with a long sigh. His body was pleasantly tired and still faintly throbbing from its exquisite knowledge of Meg.
“Isn’t she going back to New York temporarily?” Daphne asked.
“I’m afraid to let her,” he said wearily. “At least here she can be protected along with David. But I can’t tell her what’s going on. I’m going to have to ask her to trust me, when I never trusted her.”
“If she loves you enough, she will,” Daphne said with certainty. “And anyway, surely it will all be over soon.”
“God, I hope so!”
“How’s the arm?”
“Is wasn’t exactly a major wound,” he mused, chuckling. “The bullet broke a small vein. I’ve got a bandage over it. Funny, I didn’t even notice—” He broke off, feeling uncomfortable as he remembered the night before, when he and Meg had both forgotten it. He changed the subject, quickly. “Have we heard from Ahmed today?”
She grimaced. “Indeed we have. He came in surrounded by bodyguards and government agents, and eventually chewed up one of the girls in the typing pool, who stopped bawling long enough to take a leaf out of my very own book. She threw a paperweight at him on his way out.”
“What?”
“Calm down, it was a very small paperweight—not in the same league as the lamp I threw at you—and she missed on purpose, too,” Daphne said quickly, with a grin. “He was surprised, to say the least. In his country, women don’t react like that.”
“I don’t guess they do. Certainly not with Ahmed!”
“But, then, Brianna our typist didn’t know who he was,” Daphne reminded him. “And she still doesn’t. She told me that if he sets foot in the building again, she’s quitting,” she added. “She is a very angry young lady, indeed.”
“I need to have a word with your fiancé,” Steve said. “Just to see what else needs doing so we can wind up this mess.”
“Ahmed’s under twenty-four-hour guard. He’s used to it, of course. I understand he had a slight altercation with his bodyguard when they didn’t see the assassins coming last night.”
“I noticed the bruises,” Steven mentioned.
“I’m sorry about Meg,” Daphne said, grimacing. “I seem to keep complicating things for her.”
“Not your fault this time,” he said. “Or last time, either. It was my pride that sent her running. I hope I’ll have better luck now.”
“So do I,” Daphne told him sincerely. “We’re good friends, Steve. We always have been. I’m so happy. I hope you’re going to be, too, you and Meg.”
He only nodded. “We’d better get to work.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a grin. “I’ll send Wayne in.”
Daphne’s fiancé was blond and blue-eyed, a screaming contrast to his partner, who was tall and very dark and had a sense of humor that had already sent Steven up the wall.
The dark one looked around very carefully, even peering under Steve’s desk.
“Looking for bugs?” Steve asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“No,” he replied. “Paperweights and blue-eyed brunettes.” He grinned. “She’s a dish.”
“Yes, she is, but you’re on duty,” Wayne told his partner.
“So I am.” He straightened, wiped the smile off his face and stared grimly at Steven. “Sir, have you noticed any bombs or enemy missiles in your office—oof!”
Wayne calmly removed his elbow from his friend’s ribs. “I’m going to feed you to a shark on our next assignment.”
The taller man lifted both bushy eyebrows. “Copycat. James Bond did that to an enemy agent in one of his films.”
“Are you sure you’re suited to this line of work, Lang?” Wayne asked somberly.
“Plenty of people with badges have a sense of humor.” Lang glared at his friend. “Plenty more don’t, of course.”
“To the matter at hand,” Wayne interrupted, glancing at Steve. “We need your itinerary for the rest of the week, right down to the minute. And if you plan any more impromptu evening outings…”
“Not me,” Steven said with a slow grin, indicating his arm. “I’ve gone right off night life without adequate protection.”
“Fair enough. We’re now in the process of bugging everything you own, from cars to houses to aircraft, as well as Mr. Shannon’s home,” Wayne continued, noticing Steve’s faint color with absent curiosity. “We would have done it sooner, but until this morning we hadn’t quite decided about how much surveillance was required. It would be pretty stupid to overlook protection for your chief executive, Mr. Shannon, and his sister, especially since they were seen in the company of Ahmed. These people will use whatever bargaining tools they can get, and Ahmed’s fondness for Miss Shannon was pretty obvious.”
Steve didn’t like remembering that. He was jealous of Ahmed now—jealous of any man who looked at Meg.
“Isn’t it dangerous politically to let Ahmed stay here, in the States?” Steve asked suddenly.
“Certainly,” Lang told him. “Suicidal, in fact.” He grinned and his dark eyes twinkled. “But we’re responsible for him. So if we send him home and somebody blows him away, guess who gets the blame?”
“We’re in between a rock and a hard place,” Wayne agreed. “That’s why we’re going to keep Ahmed here and see if we can draw the other agents out into the open again.”
“They were in the open last night.”
“Ah,” Lang replied, “but it was just a routine surveillance until then. We didn’t have any advanced warning of an assassination try until the coup attem
pt was made in Ahmed’s home country. And by then the terrorists were already in position here and making their move. Now that we know what’s afoot, we’re ready, too.”
“We’re on it. We’ll handle this. How about Miss Shannon?” Wayne asked Steven. “Can you get her out of town?”
“I can,” Steven agreed. “But what if they find out that she and I are engaged again and make a grab for her, where she’s totally unprotected?”
The smile vanished from Lang’s face. “You’re engaged again?”
Steven nodded.
Lang exchanged a long glance with Wayne. “That changes things. We’d better keep her in town. But she can’t know why,” he emphasized.
Steven just nodded, because Wayne had already told him that. He could break their confidence, of course, but now that the house and his car and God knew what else was bugged, he couldn’t tell Meg anyplace that they wouldn’t overhear. He was going to have to watch what he said altogether. And the complication was that he not only couldn’t tell Meg that, but he wouldn’t be able to touch her without being overheard. He could have groaned out loud.
Meg was home alone that afternoon. David was still at work.
Steven drove up to the Shannon house just a few minutes after quitting time, casually dressed in jeans and a knit shirt, topped off with a suede jacket.
He smiled at Meg when she opened the door, approving the pretty blue sundress that complemented her fairness. She’d left her hair down, and he ached to get his hands in its silky length.
“Give me your hand,” he said without preamble.
She lifted the left one, and he slid the sapphire and diamond engagement ring he’d given her four years ago smoothly onto her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.
He lifted the hand to his lips and kissed it very gently.
“Oh, Steve,” she whispered, reaching up to him.
He caught her wrists and stepped back, painfully aware of surveillance techniques that could pick up heavy breathing a mile away. He laughed a little shortly, trying to ignore Meg’s shocked, embarrassed expression.
“How about some coffee?” he asked.
She faltered a little. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just make some.” She was near tears. They’d made love, they’d just gotten reengaged, and suddenly Steven couldn’t bear her to touch him!
He followed her into the kitchen, grimacing at her expression. He couldn’t tell her everything, but he had to tell her this, at least.
As she turned on the faucet to fill the drip coffee maker, Steve reached over her shoulder and took the coffeepot away, leaving the water running just briefly.
He bent to kiss her, whispering under his breath, “We’re on Candid Camera.”
She let him kiss her, but her wide eyes stayed open. He drew back, shutting off the faucet.
She was suddenly very alert. She looked around the room. “Achoo?” she whispered.
“Gesundheit!” came the deep, chuckled reply.
Meg went every shade of scarlet under the sun as she looked at Steven. She gasped in horror.
“It’s all right,” he said quickly. “They’ve only just done it!”
She chewed the ends of her fingers as the flat statement finally began to make sense and she relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness!”
The back door opened and the big, dark agent entered, a finger to his lips.
He whipped out a pad and pencil and wrote something on it, showing it to Meg and Steve. He’d written: Our team wasn’t the only one wrangling bugs around here this afternoon. Watch what you say.
Do they have cameras? Steve scribbled on the paper.
The agent shook his head, grinning. He made a sign with two forked fingers like someone poking eyes out.
Steve gave him a thumbs-up sign. The agent put away his pad and pencil and looked at the coffeepot longingly.
Meg held up five fingers. He grinned and started back out. Then he glanced at the two of them and made a kissing motion followed by a firm shaking of his head. Meg stuck her tongue out at him. He smothered a laugh as he let himself back out the door.
Meg busied herself with the coffeepot, worried about living in a goldfish bowl. It would be like this from now on, she was sure, until they caught the people who were responsible for the attack at the restaurant.
“Cream?” Steven asked when she poured coffee into two cups.
“I’ll get it.”
She handed it to him, carrying a cup of black coffee to the back door. A huge hand came out and accepted it. She peered around the door, eyebrows raised. The agent made a sign with his thumb and forefinger and eased back around the side of the house with his cup.
Meg closed the door gently and followed Steve back into the living room.
“I can’t stay long. I have a date,” he told Meg.
She glared at him. “Of course. With Daphne.”
“And Ahmed,” he replied. “At the Sheraton. More business discussions.”
It didn’t occur to her right then why Steve had given away his movements, when he knew the house was bugged. “I don’t suppose I could come along?” she asked.
“No.”
“I like Ahmed. He likes me, too.”
“Of course he likes you. You’re blond.”
She glared at him.
“And pretty.”
The glare softened.
“And very, very sweet.”
She smiled.
He sipped his coffee. “Where are we going to live when we’re married?”
“I like Alaska…”
He glowered at her. “In Wichita, Meg. I don’t work in Alaska.”
“What’s wrong with your house?” she asked.
“It doesn’t have much of a yard,” he replied. “We’ll need a place for a swing set and some outdoor playthings for the kids.”
She flushed, averting her eyes. “So we will.”
He stared at her until she lifted her face, and he smiled. He slid his arm over the back of the couch and his eyes narrowed. His head made a coaxing motion.
She put her coffee cup down, her blood throbbing in her veins, and went across to join him on the sofa.
He put his thumb over her mouth and pulled her down into his arms. As his hand lifted, his lips parted on her mouth, and he kissed her with long, slow passion. His hand found her breast, teasing the nipple to hardness while he kissed her as if he could never get enough.
When he lifted his head, her eyes were misty and dazed, her body draped over his lap.
He looked at her for a long, long time.
“I have to go,” he said quietly.
She started to protest, but she knew that it would do no good at all.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked miserably as he helped her up.
“Probably.” He stood close to her, his eyes troubled. “Lock the doors. David will be home soon.”
“My brother is a poor substitute for my fiancé,” she muttered.
“It won’t always be like this,” he said solemnly. His silver eyes searched hers for a long time. “I promise you it won’t.”
She nodded. “Do be careful. The way you drive…” She stopped when he frowned. “Well, I’d like to think you could get all the way home in one piece.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you worry about me?”
“All the time,” she said honestly, her blue eyes wide and soft.
His heart raced as he looked down at her. If she was putting on an act, it was a good one.
Gently he brought her against him and bent to brush his open mouth softly over her own. She moved closer. His arms enfolded her, cherished her. She wrapped herself around him and gave way to the need to be held.
But things got out of hand almost immediately. He caught her hips and pushed her away, his face set in deep, harsh lines as he fought to control his passion for her.
“Go back inside,” he said huskily. “I’ll phone you in the morning.”
“Why did you bother to get engaged t
o me when you plan to spend your nights with another woman?” she asked miserably.
“You know why,” he said, his voice deep, his eyes glittering. “Don’t you?”
Because they’d stepped over the line and she might be pregnant. How could she have forgotten? She moved back from him, averting her eyes.
“Yes,” she replied, freezing up. She’d tried to forget, but he wasn’t going to let her. She was weaving daydreams. The reality was that he’d lost his head and now he was going to do the honorable thing. “Of course I know why, Steven. Silly of me to forget, wasn’t it?”
He scowled and his face tautened. She had the wrong end of the stick again. But he couldn’t, didn’t dare, say anything. “David should be here any minute,” he added. “Don’t go outside, and lock the door after me.”
“I’ll do that.”
He glanced around. Nothing and nobody was in sight, but he was certain that one of the agents guarding Meg was nearby. He’d arranged that before he left the office.
“I’ll phone you tomorrow. Maybe we can go out.”
“What a thrill,” she said.
He glared at her. “Keep it up.”
“I’m trying.”
He made an exasperated sound, stuck his hands into his pockets and moved toward his Jaguar.
After he drove away, Meg closed the door and locked it, and went back into the living room.
David came home long enough to change and went right back out again, apologizing to Meg. He had to go along with Steve and Daphne to hobnob with Ahmed.
“Is everybody going except me?” Meg groaned, exasperated.
David grinned at her. “Probably. Have a nice evening, now.”
She glared at him. He left and she busied herself watering her house plants. The house was unusually quiet, and she kept imagining noises. They made her uneasy, especially under the circumstances. She heard movement in the living room and slowly stuck her head around the door to see what it was, her heart pounding madly.
But it was only the big dark agent standing there, grinning at her. He put a finger to his lips, pushed a button on some small electronic device in his hand, and chuckled as it emitted a jarring noise.