"Not even close, but you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."
"I know. I'm still glad you're back." She took the computer from his hands and set it on the table, then wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a long, loving hug. "You don't mind if we stay like this for a while, do you?"
His hands slipped under her camisole top, caressing her back. "Hey, you left your bra off."
"I didn't think I needed it," she murmured.
"You don't," he said with pleasure. "In fact, we could get rid of this shirt, too."
Before she could answer, a knock came at the door.
"Don't answer it," she said, the fear back in her voice.
"Room service," a voice called out.
"It could be a trick," she warned him.
"Julia, we just ordered food," Alex said calmly. He set her aside, looked through the peephole, then opened the door. As the waiter set up the table, the delicious aroma of burgers and fries filled the room. Alex was reminded of how long it had been since they'd eaten. Julia must have realized the same thing. Her panic gone for the moment, she was already into the fries before he finished tipping the waiter.
"Hmm, this is good," she said when they were alone. "I'm starving. I haven't had a big cheeseburger in a long time. I feel so decadent."
He grinned at that. "I can show you more decadence than a cheeseburger."
"Save it for later," she said with a laugh.
Alex pulled over a chair, and for the next few moments they ate in companionable silence. He finished first, but Julia was a close second. She sat back with her milk shake in hand and a satisfied sigh.
"I think I inhaled that," she said. "And you still beat me."
"I'm used to eating on the run."
"Sleeping on the run, working on the run, pretty much everything else on the run," she said with a knowing glint in her eyes.
"What? You have me all figured out now?"
"Not even close. You're a man of mystery."
"Good. That's the way I like it."
"That's not the way I like it." A frown drew her brows together. "Tell me something I don't know about you. Like a juicy secret."
"You want to know more secrets? Haven't you had your fill?"
She made a face at him. "A personal secret, Alex, nothing that involves foreign governments or spies."
He grinned. "I don't have any."
"You must."
He thought about it and realized that he truly did not have any secrets from her. She knew more about him and his family than anyone. In fact, he'd let her get closer to him than any other person on earth. How had he let that happen? And how was he going to put an end to it?
He'd tried to walk away once before, but he hadn't been able to leave her, not in the middle of everything. He would go when it was over, when they knew everything there was to know. Then he'd leave, wouldn't he?
Of course he would go. He had jobs waiting for him. One call to the magazine, and he'd be on his way to some distant country on the other side of the globe. Just the way he liked it.
Julia would go on with her life. And he'd go on with his.
She'd be a good memory, one of the best. But that's all she would be. Their affair would end like all of his other relationships. He didn't know how to do long term. He'd never wanted to learn. Until now... He drew in a sharp breath, determined to put that ridiculous thought out of his mind.
"It's okay, Alex," Julia said gently. "You don't have to worry I'll tell your secrets."
"I wasn't worrying about that."
"Then what's making you so uptight? You have your stone face on right now, and that usually means something is bothering you."
"I don't have a stone face."
"Yes, you do. Your skin tightens over your cheekbones, and your jaw gets really set, and even your eyes look cold. They have that 'don't ask me any questions' look in them right now."
"Then maybe you should stop asking me questions," he pointed out.
She stuck out her tongue, breaking the tension, and he felt his face relax. He had been tightening up. He just hadn't realized it until she'd pointed it out.
"You know, we're even on the secrets issue," she told him. "I may know yours, but you also know mine." She paused. "Except maybe one."
He waited for her to elaborate, but she simply set down her milk shake and stood up.
"We should get to work," she said. "We need to make plane reservations for tomorrow, and—"
"What's the one thing?" he asked, extremely curious.
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's personal, and..." She paused for a long moment. "It would probably scare you to death."
He gazed into her eyes and saw a question there, a question he was terrified to answer. "I guess everyone is entitled to one secret," he said lightly. He got up from his chair and retrieved the laptop. He sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and opened the computer, hitting the button to boot up.
Julia sat down on the bed next to him. "I'll tell you if you really want to know," she said.
"I don't think I do."
"Okay, but fair warning... before you leave for good, I'm going to tell you."
"I'll keep that in mind. Now, I think we should take the first flight out tomorrow." In fact, if they could get on a flight right now, he would. Because another night with Julia wasn't going to make the leaving any easier.
"Let's see what you can get," Julia said.
His fingers flew across the keyboard. Within five minutes they had reservations on a seven a.m. flight to Dulles. "Now what?" he asked.
"Look up my mother's name, Natalia Markov."
"Here she is," he said a moment later, pulling up a page on Russian ballet dancers. There was a grainy black-and-white photograph of the ballerina. He adjusted the screen so Julia could see it better. He heard her sharp intake of breath and knew that she'd remembered something.
"I know her," she said softly. "That's my mother. She's beautiful."
Natalia was stunning, Alex thought. She looked a bit like Julia, but she had a lighter, more ethereal quality to her face and figure. As he studied her picture, he remembered something his father had said earlier, something that had gotten lost in his head until now. "Stan knew your mother," he said aloud.
"That's right," Julia said. "Your father told us that Stan helped them set up the defection. Why didn't he tell us that? He made it sound like he knew nothing."
"He said he was too scared for his family to look into my father's death. I bet he knew the death was fake all along." He thought back to their meetings. "And you—you must have reminded him of your mother. Yet, he gave nothing away. Hmm."
"What are you thinking?"
"I wonder if Stan hired someone to break into our apartments."
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" he queried. "Think about it. We went to Stan first. He knew about you before anyone else would have time to find you."
"He's a dignified, respected, older man. I can't see him breaking and entering."
"What about manipulating? Directing? Calling the shots—like he did when your parents tried to defect?"
"You really believe that's possible? What about the guy in the cap? Or the men who followed us to Napa?"
Alex shrugged. "They could all be working together, or different parties could be coming at us from different directions."
"Great. I feel much better now," she said dryly.
"I'm going to call Stan, confront him, see what he has to say." Alex set the laptop aside and grabbed his cell phone off the table. He waited impatiently for Stan to answer. A message machine came on instead. "Call me immediately," Alex said. "It's extremely important. Don't let me down." As he hung up, Alex realized Stan had already let him down, just like everyone else in his life.
"He'll call back. He cares about you," Julia said, putting her hand over his. "I saw the way he looked at you, as if you were his son
."
"Yeah, well, I'm not his son."
"Don't judge him until you have all the facts."
"Fine." He tipped his head toward the computer screen. "Did you learn anything else?"
"I can't seem to focus on reading the article. I can't look away from my mother." She smiled sadly. "How could I have forgotten her until just this second? How could I have forgotten them all? My sister, my father, my mother?"
He put his arm around her, pulling her close. "You suffered a trauma. Everything you knew was ripped away from you when you were too small to understand what was happening. Sarah gave you love and comforted you. She took care of you and became your entire world."
"And she surrounded me with people. First Gino and all his relatives, then Lizzie."
"Exactly. There were so many good people in your life who loved you that there was no reason for you to search your brain for anything else. It was probably too painful to try to remember, so you didn't."
"You're being too easy on me," she said.
"No, you're being too hard on yourself."
"I feel like I betrayed my mom and dad by forgetting who they were, and my sister, too. What am I going to say when I see Elena? How am I going to tell her that for the past twenty-five years I never gave her one thought?"
"You'll say what's right," he assured her. "I'm curious as to whether or not she ever remembered you or your parents."
"I just hope we can find her. What if she's no longer in DC?"
"Then it will take longer."
Julia kissed him on the cheek. "I like your confidence. You make me believe in the impossible. Thanks."
"No problem." He returned his gaze to the computer, but he wasn't thinking about the information on the screen; he was thinking about Julia. She was making him believe in the impossible, too.
* * *
It was a cool, crisp September day in Washington DC. The cab ride from the airport was long and nerve-racking after an equally long and nerve-racking flight. They'd hit lots of turbulence, which had done nothing to calm Julia's upset stomach. But at least they were here, and they had come armed with one address, that of the DC Ballet Company, located near the John F. Kennedy Center of Performing Arts. On the Internet, they'd discovered her sister's name, Elaine Harrigan, listed among the former stars of the company. Unfortunately, there had been no photo. Not that Julia needed to know what her twin sister looked like. All she had to do was gaze in the mirror.
"You're missing all the sights—the White House, the Washington Monument, the Capitol," Alex told her. "What's so fascinating about your hands?"
Julia realized she was still staring down at her tightly clasped fingers. "I was just thinking." She lifted her head. "And worrying about what's coming next."
"Hopefully a reunion with your sister."
"I want that—I think. I'm nervous. What will I say? What will she say? Then I worry that we won't find her at all."
He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Stop trying to predict the future."
It was good advice, and she wanted to take it. She looked out the window just as the Kennedy Center came into view. It was a beautiful, magnificent building set on the banks of the Potomac River. Her sister had probably danced there, Julia thought. Just like their mother, she'd taken to the stage, danced her heart out, and probably drawn the applause of thousands.
The cab passed by the center and a few blocks later stopped in front of a two-story building with white columns and a fountain in front of it. A sign over the door read DC BALLET COMPANY. Alex gave the driver money to wait for them. Julia kept her large handbag with her. She had a tight grip on it, knowing that even though they'd flown across the country, someone might still be on their tail.
They entered the building and stopped at the information desk in the lobby.
"Can I help you?" a young woman asked.
"We'd like to speak to whoever is in charge." Alex offered her a charming smile, and the woman responded immediately.
"That would be Mrs. Kay," she said. "Can I tell her what this is regarding?"
"Elaine Harrigan," Alex said. "She danced here several years ago. We're relatives of hers, and we're trying to find her. Do you think Mrs. Kay could give us a few minutes of her time? It's very important."
"I'll see if she's available." The receptionist made a brief call, then put down the phone. "You're in luck. She'll see you. Down the hall, second door on the left."
"Thank you," Alex said.
Julia felt herself growing more tense as they walked down the hall. She paused at the first door, glancing in at a large studio with hardwood floors and wall-to-wall mirrors. A group of six women in black leotards was going through a routine. She could hear music in the background and the sharp voice of an instructor. The dancers were all thin but strong, and their faces showed the same resolute determination, reminding Julia that professional ballet was not for the faint of heart. An old memory came back as she saw one girl unlace her ballet slipper. In her mind, she saw her mother taking off her slipper to reveal a bloody big toe. She'd simply wiped it off, bandaged it up, and put the slipper back on.
"Come on," Alex urged, pulling her away. "Let's find Mrs. Kay."
The door to the next room was half-open. A woman stood with her back to them. She was looking out the window behind her desk and talking on the phone. Alex knocked. She turned around and waved them in with an impatient hand.
With the woman still focused on her phone call, Julia had a chance to study Mrs. Kay. She had to be in her sixties. Her hair, a beautiful, vibrant white, was cut short, just past her ears. She was very thin, showing all of her fine bones. Her body was lanky, her legs long. She was probably a dancer, too, or had been. Finally, she set the phone down.
She smiled and said, "Elaine, I haven't seen you in awhile. I thought Judy said some of your relatives were here. She must have gotten confused."
Julia gulped. This woman thought she was Elaine, which meant Mrs. Kay knew her sister.
"Your hair is so short," Mrs. Kay said. "I thought you told me you'd never cut it."
"I'm not Elaine," Julia finally managed to get out. "I'm her sister, Julia."
"What?" Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"I'm Elaine's twin sister."
"That's not possible. You don't have any family."
Julia drew in a deep breath. "I'm telling you the truth. I'm Julia DeMarco. I was separated from my twin sister Elena—Elaine—many years ago. Now I'm trying to find her. And I hope you can help me."
Mrs. Kay came around her desk, her gaze never leaving Julia's face. "Come over here," she said, "and shake my hand."
It seemed like an odd request, but after a moment's hesitation, Julia moved across the room and did as she was asked.
"You aren't Elaine," the older woman said, still holding Julia's hand, "but you're the spitting image, except for your hair."
"She's my identical twin sister."
"Well, that explains it." Mrs. Kay cocked her head to one side, a confused expression lingering on her face.
"Do you know my sister well?" Julia asked.
"Of course. She lived with me for several years. I should introduce myself. I'm Victoria Kay. I run this dance company. You said your name was Julia and—" She gazed at Alex inquiringly.
"Alex Manning," he said.
"Nice to meet you."
"Does Elaine still dance for you?" Julia asked.
"No. You even sound like her. It's amazing." Victoria shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm just so bemused by your appearance. Elaine told me everyone in her family was dead. I know she grew up in foster homes.
I actually became her foster parent when she was fifteen. She was such a gifted dancer, I knew I had to find a way for her to dance. She had a rare talent."
"Why isn't she still dancing? Is it just age? Did she get too old?"
"Heavens, no. She stopped right before the peak of her career. It was five years ago. She was crossing the street, runni
ng to meet a date. She was late, and she didn't look where she was going. A car hit her, and she broke both her legs. One was beyond complete repair. She never danced again. In fact, she still walks with a limp." Victoria's eyes filled with regret. "That's how I knew you weren't her—the way you walked. It was so tragic, what happened to her. Elaine was truly special. She didn't just dance to the music. She lived it. And her career was over in the blink of an eye."
Julia felt her heart break at the story. "What happened to her after that?"
"She recovered as best she could. She had to start over, find a new life for herself."
"Do you know where she is now?"
"She runs an antique shop on Carlmont Street in Georgetown. You can probably find her there. I don't think she ever leaves. I'll write down the address for you." Victoria moved toward the desk. "Please tell her I'm thinking about her. You know, she once told me that a piece of her heart was missing. I didn't know what that meant. Now perhaps I do. You're the missing piece."
* * *
Julia was still thinking about Victoria's words when they took a taxi to Georgetown. "If Elena told Victoria that her parents and sister were dead, then she must have remembered us," Julia said, looking to Alex for confirmation. "But why did she think I was dead?"
"Maybe the agents told her that. They didn't want her to look for you."
"That makes sense. It sounds like she grew up alone, though."
"It does," Alex agreed. "I wonder what happened to her foster family."
"Maybe it wasn't a good one. God, I hope she wasn't mistreated or abused. That would be so wrong, so unfair."
"Just remember that whatever happened to Elena, it wasn't your fault, Julia. You were a child, too. You couldn't choose your surroundings any more than she could pick hers."
"I know you're right, but I still feel guilty that I've had such a happy life. And that accident she had sounds horrible."
"Life can deal out some bad cards," Alex said. "She had to play them out. So did you."
"Now we have the chance to start over, don't you think?" Alex didn't respond to her hopeful smile, his face grim. "What are you thinking?"
"That you could get hurt. Elena may not welcome you with open arms."
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