The_Secret Soldier

by Jennifer Morey

  “You probably like it that I’m trapped in this bookstore.”

  “I didn’t invite you here.”

  He stared at her a long time, unable or unwilling to argue. It was enough to tell her what had driven him to come to Roaring Creek. She straightened her head as memory rushed forward, taking her back to the pension, to the way he’d held her while she cried, the way he’d gradually responded to her kisses. His gentleness. His skin against hers.

  As if sharing the memory, his eyes began to smolder with hunger. Undercurrents fired between them. She itched to pull him against her.

  “I didn’t need an invitation,” he said. His raspy voice touched a place in her that hadn’t been touched since Kárpathos.

  She struggled against the temptation to let down her guard. “You make it sound as if that night in Greece meant something.”

  “Didn’t it?”

  Oh, it was getting warm in here. Her hands tightened on her arms where they were folded. “I thought guys like you didn’t get tangled in long relationships.”

  “Is that what you want? A relationship?”

  “Have you ever had a relationship with a woman?”

  He half laughed. “Of course.”

  “What qualifies as a relationship to you? A one-night stand?”

  “No. One that lasts at least a few months.”

  That she hadn’t expected. “When’s the last time you had one of those?”

  “In college.”

  “You’re thirty-five. Don’t you ever want to get married?”

  “Maybe. Someday.”

  Maybe. But it wasn’t important enough to make him worry much. Kárpathos hadn’t been important enough. It had been important enough to make him want to protect her, but not enough for a real relationship. That hurt. Annoyed by her reaction, not wanting to start having fantasies of him in a relationship with her, she resumed stacking the shelf.

  “What about you?”

  She didn’t turn to look at him. “We’re finished with this conversation.”

  “It’s only fair that you answer the same questions you asked me…and I answered.”

  The mischievous glint in his eyes said he was enjoying this.

  “All right, what do you want to know?” she asked.

  He braced his hand on the shelf, leaning closer, eyes glowing. “When’s the last time you had a relationship?”

  “Last year.”

  “How long did it last? Who was he?” He didn’t seem so mischievous now. He looked…jealous. No, it couldn’t be that.

  But she smiled and said, “Almost a year. He was another geologist.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “I liked him. A lot.”

  “Why did it end between you?”

  “I realized I didn’t love him.”

  He took his time responding. “Do you ever want to get married?”

  “Of course.”

  “When?”

  “When I fall in love.”

  The bookstore grew uncomfortably quiet. Cullen looked as if she’d said something frightening…and she felt she had.

  A knock interrupted them. Sabine was grateful for it and started to go answer the back door. Cullen stopped her with his hand on her upper arm. She followed to where she could see into the office and watched him ask who it was.

  “Noah,” the voice answered.

  Realizing she wasn’t disappointed to learn he was here, Sabine gritted her teeth.

  Cullen let Noah inside with a wary glance at Sabine. She looked like a tightly wound spring, the reaction to seeing her father compounded by her earlier mention of love. The way she’d said it kept ringing through his head. He was still fighting a cold sweat. Love? With Sabine, there’d be nothing comfortable about it. He’d lose himself in her. The very thing that had destroyed his father.

  He caught the way Sabine watched Noah as he came farther into the office. She seemed wary and stiff, but the animosity he’d seen in her before was missing. Maybe she was starting to see that Noah wasn’t the dishonorable man she’d once perceived.

  “Did you find something?” she asked her father.

  He nodded grimly. “More about Isma’il.” He looked at Cullen. “I think his reason for kidnapping Sabine and Samuel had something to do with emeralds.”

  “What makes you think that?” Cullen asked. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

  “When we found some villagers to question, none of them could identify the men in the pictures, but they were able to confirm Isma’il took over an emerald mine by force and was paying someone to fly gems to a dealer in Peshawar, Pakistan.”

  “You think Isma’il was smuggling gems into Peshawar? How is that linked to Sabine’s kidnapping?”

  “Someone must have crossed him. I’m guessing that someone is one or both of the men in that photo. And Aden might have known them.” He looked at Sabine. “Did you know about the emerald mines when you were working there?”

  Slowly, as if struggling to absorb it all, she nodded. “Everyone did. But we were there to assess groundwater conditions, not the potential mineral resources of the area.”

  “So no one had any reason to suspect Aden may have been working with Isma’il? Samuel never said anything?”

  At Noah’s question, Sabine’s eyes took on that haunted look. She shook her head. “Nothing significant.”

  “He must have known what Aden was up to. And if he hadn’t been kidnapped, Aden might have tried to kill him anyway.” Noah looked at Cullen. “One of the villagers my men questioned was a friend of Isma’il’s. He said Isma’il met Aden on a regular basis. They were doing business together.”

  Sabine made a choked sound and that haunted look intensified.

  “I’m sorry, Sabine,” Noah said to her. “I know this is hard for you.”

  She shook her head unsteadily. “No…I’m all right.”

  Cullen didn’t believe that. She was terribly upset. While he could understand that, he had a feeling something more bothered her.

  “Did your captors ever say anything about the emerald mines?” Noah asked. “Did they bring up Aden’s name at all?”

  She didn’t seem to hear the question, just stared at some point between him and Noah.

  “Sabine?”

  Her eyes moved to look at Noah.

  He repeated his question, and Cullen wondered what had her so spooked.

  “No,” she finally said.

  Noah’s mouth pressed in a grim line as he looked from Sabine to Cullen. “The only other person who can tell us anything about Aden is missing.”

  “Who?”

  “My secretary. She’s been gone for a few days now. I’m sorry, Cullen. You were right. I had Cindy’s house searched and found copies of handwritten notes about your mission in an envelope addressed to her. If Aden was working with Isma’il, he could have persuaded her to give him the information and then threatened her to keep quiet.”

  Cullen’s jaw tensed and his fists tightened with the thought of the men who’d lost their lives because of Noah’s secretary. “How did you know it was her?”

  “A reporter coerced Sabine to do the Current Events interview by agreeing not to expose her rescuer. Aden must have decided his mole talking to the press was too much of a risk, even with his threats.”

  Cullen didn’t miss the revelation that Sabine had done the interview to protect him. It reached into his heart and warmed him. “So he makes her disappear before anyone can talk to her.”

  “And tries to kill Sabine in case she pieces together something damaging about her kidnapping.”

  “There has to be more,” Sabine said. “Aden is afraid of more than being linked to my kidnapping.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Noah said. “And those men in that photo might tell us what that is.”

  “Odie is working on that,” Cullen said.

  Noah nodded. “I’ll let you know when I find out more.” He started toward the door, stopping when he reached it to look back at Sabi
ne. “Mae is cooking dinner tomorrow night. Will you be there?”

  That snapped Sabine to attention. She straightened. “She didn’t tell me.”

  “She asked me to let you know.” He looked at his daughter with a silent message in his eyes. He was trying to make inroads with her.

  Sabine’s eyes hardened, her defenses building again.

  “What time should we be there?” Cullen asked, earning a narrow-eyed glare from Sabine.

  Noah looked relieved. “Six o’clock.” With one more hopeful glance at Sabine, he left. The office door closed behind him, leaving Cullen alone with her.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, marching back into the bookstore.

  Following, he deliberately ignored her mood. “There’s something you aren’t telling me about Aden.”

  She stopped, folding her arms in a defiant stance. He moved in front of her, unable to help noticing how her arms plumped her breasts.

  “Yeah? Well, how does it feel?” she asked.

  He’d take a little sass from her, considering what she’d learned today. “Do you know something that will help us end this?”

  She put one leg forward, hips cocked. “Tell me your last name.”

  “McQueen.”

  Silence. He knew he’d just surprised her with his quick reply. Actually, he’d surprised himself.

  “Are you lying?” she finally asked.

  Fearing his heart was going to overrule his better judgment this time, he answered anyway. “No. My name is Cullen McQueen. I have a house in Virginia. My uncle lives in Montana. He owns a ranch there. That’s where I was before I came here.”

  Her fingers relaxed where they curved over her arms, and her eyes softened. “Not married. No kids,” she said in an intimate whisper.

  She transported him back to Kárpathos, when they’d said the same words to each other. Except this time the meaning went so much deeper. Last time she’d said it to mock him. Now it told him she felt he was giving her more of him. Not keeping so many secrets. It was a dangerous path for him to follow. In more ways than one.

  “Not married. No kids,” he said in return.

  Her eyes softened further, and he let himself fall into her gaze for a while.

  “I saw Aden meet with a man just before we were kidnapped,” she said, that haunted look returning, growing stronger with each passing second. “I saw only the back of the man’s head.”

  Cullen waited for her to continue.

  “I keep having dreams of a monster who does terrible things. In the dream, I see the back of the monster’s head. When he turns, his face becomes Isma’il’s.”

  It supported what Noah had just told them. “I’m sorry, Sabine.” If there was a way he could take away the pain that must cause her, he would.

  “I didn’t want it to be true,” she said.

  Anguish gave her voice a quiver. But she held herself together. It couldn’t be easy knowing the man she’d watched kill Samuel was friendly with her employer, that her employer had known all along the reason they were kidnapped, that it could have been prevented. Maybe Sabine even thought she could have done something, had she only known whom Aden had met the day she’d seen him.

  He moved toward her, pulling her against him and holding her while she struggled to keep from crying. She put her hands on his chest and he felt her sag against him, welcoming the offer of comfort. The last time he’d done this it had led to more. He tried to steel himself against the memory, but it circled his senses, luring him into its spell.

  When her breathing slowed and tiny shudders of emotion died, she flexed her fingers. She was growing more aware of him, like he was of her, soft and molded against him. She leaned her head back and he looked down at her.

  The desire to kiss her swarmed over him. Her gaze fell to his mouth. He felt the heat inside him kick up a few degrees. Her eyes met his, coherency returning, then going round with alarm. She pushed his chest and stepped back.

  He couldn’t help looking at her. At the faded jeans that showcased long thighs, at the plain but feminine white T-shirt that did the same and more to her breasts. Her small waist. Long red hair. Green eyes. He felt starved of her.

  “I-I’m going to…to go upstairs…for a while,” she stammered.

  He watched her hurry from the bookstore, glad that at least she still had a hold of her senses.

  Chapter 9

  Steam from boiling potatoes on her mother’s stove fogged Sabine’s view of Cullen. He sat on one of Mae’s plaid green chairs in the living room, surrounded by refurbished antiques and a river-rock fireplace. Cabin architecture and her mother’s decorative charm made for warm atmosphere. Warmer with Cullen in the midst.

  In a black long-sleeved T-shirt that flattered his chest and arms, he made it hard for her to concentrate. Ever since he’d held her the day before, things felt awkward between them. The way he looked at her. The way he noticed her looking at him. Something had shifted between them, and it tested her resolve.

  Noah sat on the couch beside him. Cullen’s gaze moved and caught hers. There it was again. That spark. She felt the heat sweep through her. Noah was still talking, but she didn’t think Cullen was listening. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn this little black dress.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  Sabine almost jumped when her mother came back into the kitchen. She’d just finished setting the rugged pine table adjacent to the living room.

  “No,” she said, trying to figure out why she’d asked.

  “I didn’t want to force this dinner on you, but Noah wanted it so much….” Her mother let the sentence silently end.

  Noah had tried to strike up a conversation with her twice thus far, but she’d found a way to avoid him both times. He’d finally given up and gone to sit in the living room with Cullen.

  “He can be persuasive when he wants to get his way,” Sabine said, defenses pricking her.

  “I agreed with him. It’s time to put the past behind you, baby girl.”

  “That’s a little hard after thirty-three years. I don’t know the man and I have no desire to.”

  “I don’t think you really believe that. He’s your father.”

  “Biologically.”

  “Sabine, he’s changed since he was younger. And I’m afraid I’m as much to blame as him for the way you perceive him.”

  She watched her mother pour iced tea into four glasses. “He was never here. What am I missing?”

  Mae put the pitcher of iced tea down and looked at Sabine. “I refused to marry him because he was a mercenary who didn’t want to live in Roaring Creek.”

  “You were right.”

  “No, I wasn’t. Not completely. Deep down, he was always a good man.”

  What had softened her mother toward Noah? Sabine wasn’t comfortable giving him the same consideration.

  Disconcerted, she looked to where her father sat with Cullen. Cullen saw her and those hungry gray eyes drew her attention. She wished she could see the detail of them, their energy, the way she was beginning to learn their subtleties. Heat flickered and spread into a wildfire before she could stop it.

  “Wow,” her mother said. “He looks like he’s ready to drag you back to your bookstore.”

  Not expecting her to notice so much, Sabine remained cautiously silent.

  “Maybe I was wrong about the two of you,” Mae went on. “When I saw that picture in the paper, I was so afraid you were going to fall in love with the wrong man just like I did.”

  Okay, it was time to take the focus off her and Cullen. “You don’t seem to think Noah is wrong for you.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t understand, Sabine. I loved your father for a lot of years, but it’s too late for us.”

  “Too late?”

  Mae hesitated. She held Sabine’s gaze. “I met someone after you left for Afghanistan.”

  “You met someone?”

  “He’s a rancher who moved here a few months ago.”

  Sabine st
ruggled to wrap her mind around her mother being interested in someone other than Noah.

  “Is it so hard to believe?” her mother asked, teasing.

  “No. I’m happy for you.”

  “For the wrong reason.”

  “No, I—”

  Mae handed her two glasses of iced tea. “Put those on the table. We’re ready to eat.”

  All right. She’d try to give her father a chance. But only for her mother. Taking all four glasses to the table, she avoided looking at Cullen as he and Noah sat at the table. Sitting beside her mother, too aware of Cullen across from her, she glanced at Noah. He gave her a hesitant smile. She struggled with that old hope and avoided looking at both men. Only the sound of silverware against dishes filled the open room of the cabin.

  Sabine picked at her food.

  “You’re doing a fine job with that bookstore,” Noah commented, breaking the awkward silence. “Cullen said you were going to sell coffee, too.”

  She couldn’t just turn off all the resentment she felt. Did he expect her to? She looked down at her plate and didn’t respond.

  When she looked up, it was to Cullen’s softening eyes. No longer laced with desire, they silently encouraged her. He wanted her to forgive her father.

  “Sabine was never the quitting kind,” Mae said, adding to the small talk.

  “We’re having nice weather for this late in the fall, too,” Sabine couldn’t stop herself from saying. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t still hurt by her father’s desertion.

  Noah met her smart remark with resignation. Long moments passed while he studied her, seeming to struggle with what to say.

  “Sabine…” he began. She almost took pity on him. Finally, he gave up and just said, “You don’t know what it did to me to almost lose you.”

  The honesty she heard in his tone and saw in his eyes grated against her defenses. She hadn’t expected him to get so deep so quickly. “You’re right. I don’t know. Because I know nothing about you.”

  “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.” More sincerity.

  “You’ll tell me?”