by Grady, D. R.
A man who could hide effectively in the sunlight was a scary man indeed.
“I brought your painting.”
His voice nearly caused her to yelp. Not that she exactly forgot he was there after they signed off with O’Riley, but she didn’t know quite how to handle his presence. Janine fluttered a hand to her galloping heart while she processed what he said.
She brightened. “Let’s get it. I can’t wait to see your painting on my mantle.” She headed for the door, aware of him following her. He rolled with an easy, all but undetectable gait. The walk of a man who didn’t draw attention to himself. A shadow dweller.
Janine resisted the urge to shiver again. Why was she attracted to a man she was a little afraid of? And why was she afraid of him? The things that scared her could be counted on one hand. She learned early in life that her fears were used against her so she slowly exorcised the things that frightened her.
Slanting a glance at Greg Gilmore, Janine doubted he’d be easy to exorcise. He appeared to already have a hold on her, and she hated the sensation in one regard, and longed for it on the other. Then again, she was no Persephone, picking flowers to be caught by the Underworld Lord.
Besides if this underworld lord tried to capture her, she... Had no idea what she’d do. A helpless maiden, she was not, so screaming and fleeing were both ruled out. What she wanted to do was cast a binding spell on him and she didn’t understand that. Janine wanted him tied so tightly to her he could never escape. Why?
Greg unlocked his trunk and bent to retrieve the painting. In the sunlight, Janine caught her breath. His rendering of her family was utterly dazzling. Beloved faces smiled at her in an array of gorgeous colors and expressions. She fell in love with the painting all over again.
Her awe must have been obvious because Greg’s eyes raked her face and his eyes crinkled beguilingly at the corners. “We artists love to see that expression on people’s faces when they view our work.”
“I can’t get over how beautiful this painting is,” Janine answered, a catch in her voice from the lump lodged in her throat. These were her people. People who loved her and Greg had managed to capture that love on the canvas.
“We’re always appreciative of those who like what we do.”
Janine smiled and followed him back into the house. He stood in front of her mantle and solemnly placed the canvas in the center. They both stepped back and stared at the painting and placement.
“It’s perfect.”
He nodded. “I’m impressed myself.”
She laughed and enjoyed the sight of the most beautiful painting she had ever seen on her mantle. Greg slipped back into the shadows. Janine wondered if he knew how to stand in the sunlight. When was the last time he had gloried in the beams of warmth?
Had he ever enjoyed the sun on his face?
Not that she didn’t understand how dangerous such a luxury might be. If someone saw him and recognized him, that would be bad. Still, he wasn’t a secret operative any longer. Greg Gilmore could enjoy the sun.
He should be able to enjoy family. And to paint to his heart’s content. Nothing should prohibit him from leading a perfectly normal life now. Except maybe the Temites.
“Do you honestly believe the Temites are the cause of our current troubles? If you can classify a few obscure things as troubles?”
Greg slowly turned his attention from the painting to stare at her. “Yes.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“They’re the most likely source. Not the only, but the most likely.”
“Do you think you’re going to have to be on the run for the rest of your life?” How she hated to ask that question. What kind of life would that be? Running, never knowing if you stayed ahead of your enemies, knowing they wanted you dead. She shuddered. She wouldn’t, couldn’t live that way.
Greg might not have any trouble with the drifter lifestyle, but Janine had reached the point where she was happy with her lot. Moving from place to place would cause insanity. Especially now. She couldn’t give up Ryan, Macy, Kale, and Kyla. Those children were too precious and she couldn’t walk away from them.
Unless the incentive proved too enticing. Janine watched Greg from the corner of her eyes. Was he the temptation that would take her from this place she loved? She didn’t know. But again the image of Lord Hades racing across the pasture where Persephone picked flowers reared in her mind. She wasn’t a maiden, and Greg wasn’t an underlord, although he acted the part sometimes. He was a loner. Was there room for her in his life? Could she make room in her lonely existence for him?
Provided the danger passed and they could even remain in Hershey. Provided Greg wanted to remain here. His lifestyle was totally different than hers. So far, she still knew too little about him. What did he love?
His painting.
There was an exceptional art gallery nearby. Would that be enticement enough for him? To be able to show his work regularly might appeal to some artists, but Janine realized she didn’t know or understand them. What made artists tick?
She was a doctor. A scientist – maybe even a nerd. She was a military retiree. Not a good formula for compatibility so far.
Could a scientist and former secret operative-turned-painter work together? Or were they a recipe for disaster?
Chapter 15
Greg crawled into his car and watched the woman on the porch. He had drawn out the visit as long as he could. Now he thought the most prudent action was to leave. Only when he hit the seat, an instinct that had kept him alive in the past screamed at him.
He eased out of the car and saw Janine frown before she stepped off the porch and sprinted to his side. He stared at her face as he stood. Something obviously bothered her too. A faint snick grabbed his attention, and with a looming premonition, Greg tackled Janine, who must have heard the same ominous noise because she’d already leapt for the ground.
They landed on the asphalt and like a synchronized team, rolled clear of the car as it exploded. Somehow he managed to yank Janine into his arms and shield her. He watched debris fall from the once bright day and his heart fell. So much for thinking he could be Greg Gilmore.
Someone obviously didn’t like Greg Gilmore.
His heart in his mouth he became aware of the feminine body plastered to his own. To give her credit, Janine’s faint shudders were mild compared to what he would have to contend with minus her training and inner peace. Right now, her face looked pale in the flames of the ensuing fire.
But she was composed. Probably more than him. There was a flame he hadn’t seen in her eyes before and he wondered if the reflection was from the in-pieces car or from the situation.
“We have a problem,” he announced with more calm than he felt.
She snorted. “We have more than one.”
Greg surveyed the remains of his rental car from the loop of Janine’s arms. He should be more upset by this car bomb, but right now a beautiful woman held him tight and finally they had some action.
He was back in business.
“I suppose we’d better tell Admiral O’Riley about this?” Janine offered and bit her lip. He wanted to kiss her. He was bent for sure. Someone, probably an arms dealer with a beef against him, had just blown up his car and all he could think about was whether the sweet smelling woman he held tasted as good.
“Yes.” He brushed his hips across her hair.
“I don’t think he’s going to be happy about our news.” Janine’s voice sounded wry. She might have been shaken by this obvious sign of discontent on their enemy’s part, but it hadn’t cowed her. He appreciated that characteristic in his team mates.
“What happened?” KC’s voice sounded high and a bit hysterical. Oh no.
“Someone in your family got ticked that I gave my painting to Janine.” Greg said the first whacky thing that came to mind and was heartened by Janine’s laughter.
Both of them sobered when they saw KC’s panic and Greg quickly rolled to his feet, draggin
g Janine with him. They surrounded his distraught sister, hugging her and trying to calm her.
“It’s okay, KC, we figured out there was a problem before he started the engine.” Janine kept up a running litany that seemed to soothe KC, who burst into tears.
His sister obviously loved him.
The evidence tightened his heart, because he thought he might understand. If someone set a bomb in KC’s car, he’d rip the world apart. Greg hugged KC tighter, who calmed. He liked how tight she held him. Janine ran her hand up and down KC’s arm in the universal soothing gesture, and once in a while her hand brushed over him.
He wondered if the motion was deliberate. Please let it be deliberate.
“We better call the fire department,” Janine said and he nodded. KC held him, so Janine ran to the house and he watched as she disappeared inside. He hoped they came soon. Considering the smoking remains of his rental, Greg didn’t think it’d be long, but there would be a police investigation.
Darn.
Better get O’Riley in on this. “KC,” he said, as he eased her away from him. “I have to make a phone call. Can you stall the police and fire department until I’m finished?” He brushed away some blonde strands that had caught on her tears.
She sniffed but nodded, and soon had herself composed. “Janine and I will be right out.” Greg tried to reassure her, but didn’t know quite how. She wouldn’t ask questions, for which he was grateful. Her former military career would ensure she not poke around, hopefully. Was she safe out here? He hated the idea of anything happening to her.
Greg watched her face for a moment, trying to assure himself she was fine. Tears still streaked down her face, but she breathed easier and her face had set in lines of calm. He didn’t feel that emotion reflected from her, but she appeared in control.
As the first fire truck and police car rolled in, Greg took the opportunity to escape. No one would try anything with cops swarming the place.
He loped into the house, and was relieved to hear O’Riley’s voice. Janine had already called him.
“Is KC okay?” she asked him when he entered the room.
“She appears to be.”
“Good.”
“Gilmore are you all right?” O’Riley’s concern came through the speaker phone.
“I’m fine. Janine is fine. My rental car is not.”
“We can replace the car.”
“What are we supposed to tell the police?” Janine didn’t sound anxious, and he enjoyed the calm and serenity that emitted from her. Her confidence appealed to him.
“Tell them exactly what happened.”
“Okay. Greg got into the car, his training kicked in at the same time mine did, he got out of the car, tackled me, the car exploded, and we realized the Temites had probably made their next move.” Janine’s tone was bland, but snarky and Greg fought to hide his grin.
“Don’t tell them that.” O’Riley’s voice held almost as much exasperation as he had ever heard.
“We’ll just tell them I walked outside to get in to the car and it exploded.”
“I thought we might need to skip the part about his secret operative training.” The snark was still there, and Greg had to fight not to kiss the sass off her lips.
“Greg Gilmore doesn’t have operative training of any type,” O’Riley reminded them. “He’s Greg Gilmore. Never heard of Michael Lamont and Greg barely knows what an operative does. Just like most of the population.”
“Right.” Janine leaned back on the sofa and Greg admired the way her shirt tightened against her lithe body.
“We fudge our answer then.”
“You’re just two regular citizens whose car blew up,” O’Riley stated with utter command.
She shoved a hand through her hair. “Okay.”
“Are the police there yet?”
“Yes, KC is stalling them.”
“Good. Call me when they leave.”
“Yes, sir.” Greg motioned for Janine to precede him. “Let’s go lie to the police.”
Janine flung herself onto the sofa while disgust, frustration, and something she couldn’t identify all vied for her attention. She didn’t think she had energy to spare to figure out her other emotions.
Greg seated himself nearby and watched her. He had managed to locate the one chair in the entire room that sat in shadows. She couldn’t see his face and that only managed to irritate her more.
She ran a hand over her face and tried to think. It was harder than it should be.
“Let’s talk to O’Riley.” Greg’s voice was as dark as the shadows that encased him.
She leaned forward and picked up the phone still lying on the coffee table. Securing the line took only moments, and she quickly pressed buttons that would connect them to their former boss.
“What took you two so long to call me?” he barked as soon as the line rang.
Suppressing a sigh, Janine ran a hand over the back of her neck. “How about an old detective who didn’t believe a word we said?”
“How about that same detective asking us the same questions over and over? And in Janine’s words, a deep suspicion lingering in him like skunk juice.”
“Didn’t go well, I take it?”
“No.” Go well, hah! It’d been a disaster. A total unmitigated disaster. Thank goodness the admiral would have to clear up this mess. Small mercies, but mercies nonetheless.
“What same questions did he ask?”
Janine and Greg took turns rattling off the various questions and their subsequent answers. The detectives had questioned them together and separately, and Janine marveled at how alike their answers had been, even when separated.
Like they had a connection even they couldn’t explain.
“Maybe your very similar answers to their questions baffled them.”
“Who knows?” Janine wanted to go back to bed. This day was not shaping into something she ever wanted to repeat again and it was only nine o’clock, in the morning. Her eyes slid to the canvas perched above her mantle. Okay, they could repeat that. The painting suffused her with a needed dose of warmth and she slid her attention back to the conversation, grateful for the painting and the man who had created it.
“Here’s another line of thought,” Janine said. “Michael Lamont is dead, but Greg Gilmore is very much alive. And they’re one and the same.”
“I’d really like to know how someone figured that out.” Greg muttered so low, she barely heard him.
“Could you have figured out the true identity of a fellow agent before you retired?” O’Riley asked. Like he didn’t already know.
“Only with the right information. You’d have to be privy to certain facts. I don’t know anyone with all those facts, not even you.”
Janine stilled. “What if several people had some of the facts and they got together?” What if they all realized there was something familiar about a certain man, and started talking?
She could feel the intensity of Greg’s stare, and figured he was thinking. She stared back, trying to piece that scenario together.
“Explain Janine.” O’Riley’s chair creaked as keyboard noises filtered through her living room.
“Okay, let’s say the Temites are all sitting around their conference table. They’re with their contacts and one of them mentions Michael Lamont and the way he walks.” She sucked in a deep breath. This scene gave her an unwanted case of goosebumps.
“Another man says, yeah, he reminds me of this painter I bought some work from. Then the guy beside him pipes up, yeah, I bought a painting from that same guy, and he reminded me of Michael Lamont.”
Greg nor O’Riley commented, so she kept going. “Then one of the Temites asks whether they could be the same guy. Or at the very least related?” Janine squirmed on the couch for a moment, hating what she thought, but very afraid she might be right.
“I changed not only how I looked but also how I walked. Besides I’m not sure if the Temites are smart enough to figure this sort
of thing out.” Greg’s voice wafted from the shadows.
“But they don’t have to be. All it would take is one of their contacts to notice and mention it.”
“How about if I look into all this?” O’Riley made it sound like a request but Janine and Greg both knew better.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Nothing.”
“What?” She rocketed up from the sofa, and paced between the sofa and mantle. Each turn an aggravation.
“You’re regular citizens now. You’re retired. For now, you’re regular people just going about your business and daily activities.”
“My rental car exploded.” Greg’s voice was wry. Everyone knew most people’s rental cars didn’t randomly explode.
She heard papers rustle before more key tapping filtered across the speaker phone.
“I’ll do my part on this end, but I need you both to lay low.” O’Riley’s chair creaked again. Maybe she would buy him a bottle of oil for Christmas. “And keep yourselves alive, okay?”
“We’ve been doing that for years,” Greg said.
Janine grimaced at him as she continued pacing. She still couldn’t see his expression, but thought he grinned at her. At least he didn’t seem shaken at all from the ordeal. Of course, he was used to being shot at and nearly blown up. She thought about her two tours of Kuwait. So was she actually.
It didn’t make the situation any easier. And then to be told they couldn’t do anything only deepened the restlessness blowing through her. She wanted to do something to help track down whoever had blown up Greg’s car. She wanted to beat them black and blue.
That crazy thought alarmed and slightly sickened her. She broke stride for a moment. Doctors didn’t beat people up. They healed. But the anger howling through her wouldn’t listen. What would she do if she had lost Greg today? Before she ever had him? A surge of restlessness caused her to return to her pacing.
“I’ll send someone in to visit your crotchety detective and inform him of things.”