Someday Soon

by Debbie Macomber

  “Are you ready yet?” she asked.

  “No,” he said gruffly. He looked away from her. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.” His voice wasn’t any less brusque, but Francine could tell that he wasn’t angry. If anything, she read a certain hesitancy in him.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not much good at this sort of thing.” He paused and cleared his throat.

  Francine wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Not good at this?”

  “Apologies,” he muttered thickly.

  “You don’t owe me an apology.”

  “The hell I don’t,” he said, and raked a hand through his thick wet hair. “I said some nasty things to you when we first started working together. Things I regret now. I want you to know I didn’t mean what I said about you being unattractive.”

  The room went quiet. Even the water in the pool seemed to go still. A tightness gripped Francine’s throat. “It doesn’t matter. It’s long forgotten.” She attempted to stand, but he took hold of her arm.

  “There’s more.” His curt tone was back.

  “More?” Francine looked away, not wanting to see his expression or have him read hers. This discussion embarrassed her acutely. Tim hadn’t insulted her with anything she didn’t already know. Her body wasn’t going to be mistaken for that of a model. Nor had she been graced in the looks department. Her features were too blunt for that. Too round. She was large boned, and she’d learned long before that men liked their women small and delicate. The fact that she could bench press more weight than most men wasn’t something a fragile male ego could handle.

  Tim’s hand caught her by the chin, and he turned her face toward his. His deep, dark eyes met hers. “I was wrong about you from the first. You’re really quite lovely.”

  She was about to tell him it was time they left, when he kissed her. The action stunned her so much that the words were trapped in her throat, forever lost.

  The kiss was gentle, a delicate pressing of his mouth over hers. Francine wouldn’t have guessed that Tim was capable of such tenderness. She trembled and raised her hands to his bare chest in order to shove him away and tell him how inappropriate it was for them to be doing this.

  Not only was it inappropriate, it was wrong. The cardinal rule with a therapist was never to become romantically involved with a patient. But he caught her hands in his and continued, and soon she was fully involved in the kiss herself.

  After a moment, he drew back. Francine lowered her gaze, but she could feel him study her. He seemed as surprised by what he’d done as she was.

  Neither spoke. Francine didn’t know what to say, and she strongly suspected Tim was fast thinking of an excuse. Something that would assure them both that it had been a fluke, not to be repeated or mentioned hereafter.

  His eyes lingered on her face, until she was certain her cheeks were red enough to be mistaken for cooked lobster.

  “You’re an incredible woman.” His voice was as rough as moonshine.

  Francine knew she had to escape before she found herself believing what he said. She swallowed, and her heart, her silly, romantic heart, seemed to stick in her throat. What she needed now was some witty comment that would lighten the mood and remind them that what they were doing would only lead to problems. Instead her throat felt as if it had been stuffed with a whole apple and her eyes were filled with tears.

  He wiped the moisture from her cheek, and before she could object, he kissed her again. This time it was much different. Much better. Much deeper. Much more intense.

  He parted her lips with his tongue and penetrated her mouth. Francine moaned and trembled. She was afraid, almost desperately so, but not because Tim frightened her. Never that. He tempted her, and she couldn’t give in to that fascination.

  He deepened the kiss and sent his tongue in search of hers. She moved her own forward hesitantly until it touched his, then swiftly withdrew it in a panic. A moment later he sought her out again, and she allowed him to find her for another shy taste.

  By the time he broke off the kiss, Francine’s heart thundered in her ears. Her eyes remained closed and her head fell forward. She’d been kissed, but never quite like this.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all week,” Tim whispered, smoothing the hair from her face.

  “I should go.”

  “No,” he said roughly, insistently. “Not now. We’ve only gotten started.”

  She lifted her questioning eyes to his. “What do you mean?”

  “Mean?” He laughed lightly and kissed her gently. “What else could I mean? I’m dying to make love to you, woman. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. It’s been downright embarrassing.”

  “What?” It was all Francine could do not to leap out of the water right then. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought of him in those terms. Nor would she.

  “Come on, sweetheart, there isn’t any reason to play coy with me. It isn’t necessary. We’re both adults, and I want you, and if the way you kissed me back is any indication, you’re just as hot for me.”

  She stared at him as if he were speaking in a foreign language.

  “I’ve been a long time without a woman, so the first few bouts are going to be hot and fast. Just be patient and I promise to make it up to you later.”

  Francine was struck dumb. She glared at him and blinked several times before she found the strength to pull herself free of his embrace. Although her knees were weak, she managed to step out of the water.

  “Is something wrong?” Tim asked.

  She reached for her towel and wiped the moisture from her face. “I don’t know what led you to think I’d be willing to share a bed with you, Tim Mallory, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

  Her refusal must have come as something of a shock, because he looked at her as if he were sure he hadn’t heard her right. “The hell you aren’t,” he said after an awkward moment.

  “When I go to bed with a man, it’ll be for reasons other than the ones you gave me. You want a body to relieve your physical frustration. Any woman would do. Any body. I just happen to be convenient.”

  “You’re as hot for me as I am for you.”

  Francine didn’t have an answer to that because she feared it was true. “Look at me, Tim,” she said, “really look. Do you think that because I’m not svelte and beautiful that I’d be willing to settle for anything less than a man who loves me?”

  His gaze narrowed suspiciously, and then he groaned and wiped a hand down his face. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” He muttered several curses as if her lack of experience were some great detriment. Some great deficiency on her part.

  Francine pressed her lips together firmly. Hell would freeze over before she gave him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt her.

  “I’ll send for Greg,” she said on her way out.

  Linette stepped into the foyer of her apartment building and unlocked her mail slot. She anxiously sorted through the envelopes. She hadn’t heard from Cain, and although she repeatedly told herself it didn’t matter, it did.

  She was beginning to believe he’d meant what he said. That he wouldn’t be seeing her again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself believe what they’d shared hadn’t been something very special. He was special.

  Cain had gifted her with the precious promise of the future. Until they’d met, she hadn’t been able to look beyond a single day. She had no dreams. Cain had proven that in the two years since she’d lost Michael, she hadn’t lost her heart. She could feel again. Could respond to a man’s touch.

  Apparently she had been nothing more than a passing fancy to him.

  Linette let herself into the apartment, tossed the mail onto the kitchen counter, and slipped out of her pumps. She was about to survey her cupboard for dinner ideas when the doorbell chimed. A quick check in the peephole revealed her sister-in-law.

  “Nancy,” Linette said happily, unlocking the door. “This is a pleasant
surprise. Come in.” She’d meant to call Nancy all week, but with one thing or another, she hadn’t gotten around to it. If the truth be known, she had delayed putting off the call for fear Nancy would ask her about Cain. And she just wasn’t sure what to say.

  “How are you feeling?” Linette asked.

  Nancy peeled off her coat and collapsed onto the overstuffed sofa. She tucked her feet beneath her and settled in as if she meant to stay a good long while. “Dreadful. I’ve spent the last week with my head poised above the toilet.”

  “Flu?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Morning sickness.”

  “Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  Linette sank onto the chair opposite her sister-in-law. “I’ve been meaning to call all week. I had dinner with your parents on New Year’s.”

  Nancy’s gaze shifted away from Linette. “They aren’t happy with me just now.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I’m afraid they aren’t exactly overjoyed with me, either. As you’re probably aware, they didn’t think it was a good idea for me to spend Christmas with Cain.”

  Nancy flattened her hand against her chest. “I was responsible for the two of you meeting, and my parents…well, mostly it was Mom, seemed to think I’d dishonored Michael’s memory by introducing you to Cain.”

  “So I heard. I didn’t realize what was happening with Mom and Dad,” Linette said softly. “I knew that they found dealing with Michael’s death difficult, and they were more comfortable ignoring the fact he’d died. But it’s gone beyond that now.”

  “I’ve been tempted to say something to you for more than a year now,” Nancy murmured, “but it’s difficult, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin our relationship, especially when the one with my parents was becoming more and more strained.”

  “They don’t want me to date. I didn’t realize that or the reason why until I met Cain. They feel threatened and afraid. I can understand that, but at the same time I can’t live my life in order to please them.”

  Nancy looked worried. “You’re seeing Cain, then? You never said anything about him when you returned from Montana, and I didn’t want to pry.”

  Linette clenched her hands together, wanting to disguise her disappointment and not sure if she could. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  Her sister-in-law released a heavy sigh. Her shoulders sagged, and she closed her eyes momentarily. “That might be for the best. You don’t know how concerned I’ve been. I’ve been so afraid you would fall for him.”

  Linette didn’t understand. It was Nancy who’d worked so hard playing the role of matchmaker, eager to introduce her to Cain. As it happened, they’d met on their own. “You’d rather I didn’t see Cain again? But why?”

  Linette shifted positions, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Rob and I were talking last night, and I was saying how disappointed I was that you hadn’t called and told me how everything went over Christmas. I made some pithy comment about how nice it would be if the two of you fell in love. Then I said something along the lines that it might be difficult for the two of you, being that Cain’s in the military and all. Long-distance relationships can be tricky.”

  “I think you might be right.” Having Cain in the military certainly hadn’t helped matters thus far. Linette was left hanging, waiting to hear from him. At the same time she wasn’t sure he would contact her.

  “I was afraid something like this was going to happen,” Nancy said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “You don’t like Cain?” Linette didn’t understand.

  “I don’t know him well enough to like or dislike him. But after what Rob told me, I regret ever suggesting the two of you meet.”

  “What Rob told you?”

  “Yes, last night out of the blue, my dear husband drops this bombshell. Cain isn’t in the military. He’s—”

  “Of course he is,” Linette interrupted. “He was called away on a mission early Christmas morning. He didn’t want to leave any more than I wanted to see him go.”

  Nancy’s features tightened. “Rob told me Cain McClellan is a mercenary. Rob assumed I knew, and I told him I didn’t and that I didn’t think you did, either. He suggested we get together and talk.”

  Mercenary. The word echoed in Linette’s ears like a giant gong, but instead of fading, the sound grew louder and louder, more and more deafening.

  “Linette?”

  It took an instant for her to realize that Nancy was speaking to her. “In other words, he’s a hired killer,” she said slowly.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, so sorry. I feel like such a fool.”

  Linette forced herself to give Nancy a reassuring smile. “You didn’t know.”

  “But I should have questioned Rob more thoroughly before I suggested introducing you two. I don’t think Cain’s a bad person, don’t misunderstand me. It’s just that…well, you’ve already lost one husband, and you don’t need to get involved with a man in a high-risk occupation like his.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.” Linette’s fingernails dug painfully into her palms. If there was one single thing she had learned during Michael’s illness, it was how very precious life is. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone wasting a gift of such value.

  “What upsets me most is the big stink I made with my parents. They asked me all these questions about Cain, looking for one small thing to discredit him. Mom was furious with me and Rob, and when I learned what he was, Linette, I can’t tell you how upset I’ve been. Thank God she never found out.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. No harm done.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked with a heavy sigh. “I can’t tell you how guilty I’ve felt over all this.”

  “Don’t,” Linette insisted. If she was angry with anyone, it was with Cain. He’d clearly misled her, clearly chosen to let her believe he was in the service. She knew why. Had she known the truth, she would never have agreed to travel to Montana with him. Would never have become involved with him.

  “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to be gunshy,” Nancy continued, then smiled. “No pun intended. Cain’s just one man, and if you were attracted to him, then there are bound to be others, don’t you think?”

  “Of course.” But Linette wasn’t interested in anyone else. In time she would be willing to try dating again, but not soon. As it was, she felt like a yo-yo on one of those around-the-world spins. Her emotions had been looped around almost full circle. A feeling of emptiness swamped her.

  She knew what Cain had told her before he’d left was true: he wouldn’t be contacting her again. He couldn’t risk involving his heart any more than she could allow herself to care for a man who’d built his life around death and destruction.

  “I’d better go,” Nancy said after a moment. “I hate being the bearer of bad news.”

  “I don’t want you to feel guilty over this,” Linette said, handing Nancy her coat.

  “I can’t help it. I’m my mother’s daughter. I cut my baby teeth on guilt. Little happens in this world that I can’t find a reason to accept some of the blame.”

  Linette laughed, and the two women hugged. “Don’t look so worried,” she said, and unlocked her front door.

  “But I am. You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Nancy hesitated, and Linette knew her sister-in-law wished there was something she could do or say to set matters right. Nancy, however, had already paid a hefty price. She’d stood her ground against her parents on Linette’s behalf. That hadn’t been easy and had helped pave the way for her confrontation with the Collinses later.

  After Nancy had gone, Linette sat on the sofa, suddenly cold. She wrapped a hand-knit blanket around her shoulders. In the worst part of Michael’s illness she’d sat in exactly this position, with this same autumn-colored afghan tucked about her like a security blanket.

  She’d
needed it then. She needed it now.

  The force of the explosion knocked Cain onto his belly. His breath gushed from his lungs as the wind was knocked out of him. He lay there in intense pain, too stunned to move.

  What the bloody hell had happened? The only thing he could think was that the explosives had gone off too soon. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

  The explosion had been planned as a diversion. Unfortunately, the only ones it had distracted were the men of Deliverance Company. Not a single man was in position. The whole mission had literally blown up in their faces.

  They weren’t ready. This was a hell of a way to announce their arrival. If the terrorists holding Louis St. Cyr had any brains, and they must have, they’d quickly figured out this was a rescue attempt gone awry.

  Instinct took over, and Cain leaped to his feet and ran around the side of the building, dodging the rapid fire of a machine gun. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jack and Murphy crash through the underbrush to join him. Jack literally hurled himself behind the building, cursing as he slammed onto his stomach. Murphy followed.

  “It’s too soon,” Jack said as though Cain hadn’t figured that much out himself.

  As far as Cain could see, they had two choices. Ignore the fact that all their careful arrangements had gone up in smoke and go in after the kid.

  Or get out alive, while they could.

  One thing was certain—if they turned tail now, the kid was a goner. For all Cain knew, the teenager might already be dead. There were no guarantees he’d survived one moment beyond having his photo taken. He’d been held hostage for nearly three weeks as it was. The odds of his surviving the first few minutes following the explosion were slim to none.

  “We’re going in,” Cain decided.

  His men followed without hesitation.

  He was the first one through the door. The first one to fire his weapon, spitting death at a faceless enemy. The first one to see just how big a disaster they’d walked into.

  One man fell and then another. Bullets whistled past Cain, hitting the wall directly behind him. He fell to the ground and rolled, firing as he twisted. If they were going to kill him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make an easy target.