The adrenaline rush faded as he walked upstairs to the twins' room. Rolling his head to loosen his neck, he flipped the safety on his gun and returned it to the small of his back.
Peering around the corner, he was surprised to see Anna gone and Rafe already asleep. A slight shuffling sound drew him to the attic, and he realized she was closing the sketch-books.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, with only the soft light from above pooling around him, he looked to his left. His mother's partially closed door couldn't block the sound of her breathing. His eyes squeezed shut as he let himself think about Anna's confession, as if he could block out the truth. What had his Mama done?
Feeling old not only in body, but in soul, he climbed the stairs. Order restored to her office, Anna gently recovered the pile of sketchbooks, smoothing the blue blanket across the top.
"It still makes no sense," he said, even though she didn't acknowledge his presence. "My job in the military was more dangerous than staying in Miami. Wait a minute! Why did she think lying about you would keep me safe? What does one have to do with the other?"
She turned to face him, staring at him with an expression he couldn't read.
"What?"
"You believe me."
"Of course I do. I don't understand it. I'm angry as hell about it. But I know you're telling the truth."
She flashed him a brilliant smile, and his heart lurched in his chest.
"Um, I know you're upset with your mother. Believe me, it took me a long time to understand. But I know now that she believed this was the only way to protect you. She'd lost one son and the thought of you going back to Miami, marrying me, being stuck there and maybe dying there was too much for her."
"Whoa! First off, what gave her the idea we'd stay in Miami and be stuck there? And how did lying about you guarantee I wouldn't stay? How'd it guarantee I'd reenlist?"
"I don't know all the answers. You'll have to ask her." She threw her hands up. "Maybe she knew you wouldn't want to be in the same city as me anymore. Maybe she knew how much you enjoyed fighting."
The conversation resembled a minefield. Every time he negotiated one, he'd spot another trip wire.
"I didn't enjoy it. I was good at it. If anything, I enjoyed being good at something," he said carefully.
"Whatever," she said, shrugging. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned against a filing cabinet He joined her, sitting so he could watch her face.
"You know I didn't have the money for college until after the army, so school wasn't an option."
She nodded, but it was to shut him up, not an agreement. "You think I reenlisted because it was more fun killing people?" he asked, amazed and trying to keep it from fueling his anger.
She flinched and stared at him with the same caution she'd always reserved for Gage. "I didn't say that."
"It's not like the death we saw in Miami. Just go in, open fire and run. This was different. Bombs or face-to-face. Sometimes it had to be done by hand. Either way, I never enjoyed it. I never laughed or got off from it."
Offended, she glared at him.
"That bothers you?"
"Your wording leaves a little to be desired."
He snorted. "I guess there's a lot I won't be sharing with you if you offend that easily."
"I'm a civilian. Isn't this supposed to bother me? I'm not able to handle the cruelties of the world because I've been so sheltered. Isn't that what you always told me?"
Her counterattack was so unexpected he leaned back on his arms, using the position to stretch his protesting muscles.
"I don't remember saying you were sheltered. I was there. I remember what you suffered."
She looked away and studied her teardrop painting. He wondered why she hadn't put it away.
"You didn't need to know what I did. Not that I was allowed to tell you, anyway."
She laughed, but its vibrancy was gone.
"Yeah. I remember. A huge portion of your life I was allowed to know nothing about."
"That bothered you?"
"Of course it bothered me!"
"You never said."
Her jaw set for a moment. "And if I had?"
His turn to pause. "I don't know. I'd have tried to tell you more. To be honest, I thought you hated the army. You never asked a lot of questions."
"Why should I? I knew the answer. It was classified."
He blew out a breath slowly, wishing he could reclaim the closeness they'd been sharing before Rafe cried out.
"I guess I should have realized how much it was hurting you. Maybe I could have handled it differently. I'm sorry."
Her head tilted to one side as she studied him. The gesture stabbed at him. Innocent yet cautious. The differences in her kept hitting him at odd times, but he'd never realized until now how much those changes were due to him. She was stronger than he'd given her credit for, but she was also much warier.
Because of him.
How was he going to be able to break through all these barricades between them? Especially when it was his actions that had put them up.
His mother's words whispered in his ear. Earlier that night she'd pulled him aside before Anna came downstairs.
There's only one way to heal the past, hijo. You must open your heart to her.
He took a deep breath and jumped, going airborne in an area totally foreign to him. He should have been confident.
But he was scared to death.
"I take full responsibility for what happened to us. But I can't be held accountable for things I didn't know about."
She watched him, her distrust narrowing her eyes.
"I want, more than anything in this world, to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep holding you in my arms. I want to be a husband and a father and spend every day trying to make you and the twins as happy as possible."
He tried to gauge her reaction, but too many emotions were flicking across her face now. Better than nothing, he thought. Praying, he plunged ahead.
"I can't do it by myself. I can't read your mind, Anna. When something upsets you, you need to tell me. Because I can't be held responsible for it unless I know about it and get a chance to fix it.
"Last week, when I caught sight of you for the first time in forever, I couldn't believe I'd walked away from you. Now, looking at you and knowing you haven't been with anyone else, well … I almost wish there had been," he murmured.
"What? I thought you'd be happy about it," she said, throwing the sarcastic words at him.
"Sure, a part of me is happy. But I thought I had a chance to make up for running out on you. To find out I ran for no reason and left you pregnant and alone. You'll never be able to forgive me."
Her silence confirmed his suspicions.
"I can't believe Mama did this to me. To us! Why didn't she write me about the twins?"
"She didn't know about them. I left not long after you."
"You didn't tell her?"
"She wouldn't speak to me! I thought it was because she believed I'd been unfaithful to you, but now I know it was because she couldn't face me."
The anger simmering beneath the surface erupted. "So here you were, pregnant, and you lost me, your mom and Mama all at the same time? Why are you even speaking to us?"
The saddest smile curved her lips and tightened his throat. "You're my children's family. I hate what happened, but I understand why you both reacted the way you did. Lina punishes herself far more than I ever could."
"You could keep her away from her grandchildren."
"Oh, sure, I could keep her away from her only living family, and my children would go without a wonderful, loving grandmother. That would make everything wrong turn magically right."
"You're a bigger person that I am," he grumbled.
"If I hadn't gone to your funeral, I never would have seen your mother. If I hadn't spoken to her, I never would have known the truth, and a part of me would still hate you."
He flinched.
"I'm not saying this to hurt you."
"I know."
She sighed heavily. "Lina did what she did because she wanted to protect you. Can you imagine what it's been like for her, thinking she sent you to your death? Thinking she'd deprived her grandchildren of their father?"
His gaze shot to hers. As her words sank in, some of the anger drained.
"No, I can't imagine it. You know, when I told her who I was, she said she had something to tell me. Do you think she was going to tell me the truth?"
"Yes."
"You sound certain."
"I am. I asked her not to the next day."
"Why?" His head reared back in disbelief.
"I had my reasons.
"Tell me."
She frowned at his command. "I wanted you to forgive me and let go of it. If you found out right away, then you'd be feeling like you are now – guilty. I don't want your pity."
"You don't want my pity," he said slowly, trying to sort through her confession. "You could have gotten your pound of flesh by throwing all this in my face. But you didn't. Which means you didn't want revenge, you didn't want to hurt me and you didn't want my pity. What do you want?"
Her lips parted, then closed, and a mutinous look crossed her face. She resembled Rebecca during a pout, but she was definitely all woman. His woman if he had his way.
"Remember, I can't read your mind."
"It doesn't matter—"
"It does!" he interrupted. "What do you want? You're the one who's suffered the most! What is it you want?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, and he forced away the instinct to hug her to him. He could feel her tension, knew this was too important to back down from.
"When I met 'Gage,' I was so confused. For the first time since you I was attracted to another man. I wanted to spend time with him, make love to him, maybe have a future with him. I started to believe I could let go of you and love someone else and have someone love me." The words tumbled out of her, and she was oblivious to the tears sliding down her cheeks. "I've had to be the strong one all the time and I wanted to share some of it. I wanted to be held and supported. I wanted a man to share my life and be proud of all I've done and will do. I like my independence. I've worked hard for it!"
She'd been leaning forward as she delivered her passionate answer. Now she slumped back down and swiped the tears from her cheeks with both palms.
"You wouldn't understand," she finished.
He pulled his knees up and rested his forearms there, staring at her.
"I think I do. You wanted me to love you."
Her eyes and mouth rounded before she tried to hide her reaction. He was right.
"I think that because you distrust me so much, you wanted to know how I felt before you told me the truth," he said the words lightly, trying not to sound accusing. But he had another truth he needed to uncover. "You haven't been with any other men at all, have you, Bella?"
She stared hard at him, shoulders back and arms folded against her chest. "No!" she burst out. "There's been no one else!"
She reminded him of the stray kitten he'd found behind his house. Prickly, defensive and totally adorable. She would hate the comparison.
"I see," he said calmly, focusing on the one small light she'd left on in the corner of the attic. Inside him, though, a storm of emotion besieged him. He wasn't proud of it. In fact, a sadness filled his chest along with tenderness and his body's other, more insubordinate, responses.
Then he made the mistake of looking at her, and all his good intentions were blown away. Pure male satisfaction clashed with hot need and set off thunderous results he no longer had hope of controlling.
"You know how I feel. I told you before I knew the truth. So the question is, what are you going to do with me now?"
* * *
Chapter 9
«^»
His eyes blazed with warning and promise. The air she held in her lungs burned, reminding her to breathe.
"Do with you?" The words rushed out on her exhale, but she was proud of the breathless, offhand tone.
She might as well have pulled a tiger's tail.
A slow, bone-melting smile answered her. He leaned close, bracing his weight on his hands. It took little to bring him within inches of her.
"Yeah. 'Do with me.' I'm all yours. You decide." The desire that exploded in her stomach stunned her. Grateful she was already on the floor so she couldn't fall, she felt a sheen of sweat break across her face.
All mine. He's all mine. This beautiful man, who looks like he should be posing for one of those calendars with half-naked men in it, is offering himself to me. To me. And it's Rico. My Rico.
He remained still, waiting for her to decide, and in that moment the most powerful feeling broke over her. She could leave right now or she could stay here, with this man, this ghost of her heart.
The uncertainty disappeared, and her fears calmed. No matter what their future, no matter what happened with the danger lurking around them, she had tonight. All for her.
So she smiled and watched in fascination as his nostrils flared and his eyes glowed impossibly brighter.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "As long as we're safe. From the outside dangers, I mean. It seems absurd to even think of this when…"
"We're okay. I checked in ten minutes ago." As he spoke, his lips moved closer until her own tilted in response and felt his words puff against them.
She nodded, the movement brushing her lips against his, and she heard his breathing stall. His tongue came out to wet his lips and brushed against hers. She sucked in a breath, its pass over her wet lips another kind of caress.
"Just once," he whispered before leaning into her. His lips joined hers slowly, and she watched in fascination as his lashes lowered against his cheeks. Something about seeing him unguarded tugged at her – a fragile emotion mixing with the passion he called up with a touch.
The exquisite movement of his mouth on hers made tears sting her eyes. He cherished her without being overwhelming, giving her the space to pull away.
As much as she enjoyed being a recipient, she wanted to share the incredible feelings he inspired in her. She put her hands on either side of his face and deepened the kiss, trying to tell him without words what he meant to her.
He pulled away timeless moments later and stared. A small smile quirked his lips, and with a scarred finger he traced a path only he could see from her temple to her lips.
"I'm going to take another check of the house," he said, his voice husky. He paused. "Meet me in the bedroom?"
She heard the question within his question. He was giving her a chance to choose more than the room.
She nodded, and he searched her face intently before he nodded back. Then he left on ghost-silent feet, and she stared at the empty doorway, wondering if she was dreaming.
* * *
Rico checked the house once more. He paged the agent again and waited for all-clear back. While he waited, he tried to ignore his body's throbbing urgency to return upstairs. He tried to forget the expression on Anna's face after they'd kissed. The need and the fascination.
He strode into the darkened kitchen and hurriedly drank a cold glass of water. The glass still in hand, he wiped his mouth across his forearm and caught sight of the glass's decoration.
"Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."
What the hell was he doing? He couldn't make love to her tonight. Yeah, they'd answered a lot of questions. But there was more. Maybe he was expecting too much, too soon, but he could see she was still holding back.
Making love might get past the last of the walls. Or it could backfire in his face.
He squeezed the glass, wishing he could throw it. Trying to mend fences with his family and catch this psycho were taking its toll on his nerves. He was so tense that even the healthy parts of him were beginning to ache.
He got another glass of water and rolled his neck.
; Making love to Anna would relax him.
He chugged the water, forcing the thought from his mind. Besides its effect on their relationship, he couldn't ignore the real danger they faced. Agents or not. And when just looking at her made him deaf and blind to everything around him, he could just imagine how he'd be with her lying naked in his arms…
He groaned aloud and forced the image from his mind. There would be time for them later, after this whole mess was over.
But how could he not make love to her? How could he go back up there and keep his hands off her?
His beeper vibrated, and he checked the green glowing numbers on its display. All clear.
He'd let them all down once before. He'd be damned if he failed them again.
* * *
Anna walked out of her master bathroom and stopped, digging her toes into the soft carpet. She'd seen in a movie that the repetitive motion was relaxing. Her stomach reminded her of a ride she'd gone on at a fair last summer. A violent combination of excitement and fear that came too close to nausea.
When she'd come down from the office, she'd felt only the excitement. But in the bathroom nightlight she'd looked into the mirror and seen a mother of two with more stretch marks than sexual experience.
What would she wear? Should she be waiting in bed?
She knew the candlelight would hide the stretch marks pretty well. Then again, this was her, and those marks were from his kids! He'd need to accept her for the woman she was now. Not the young girl she'd been.
She'd taken off her clothes and looked into the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Well, the lights being off the first time couldn't hurt.
Naked, she thanked her lucky stars that she'd shaved her legs that morning and slapped on some lotion. Teeth and hair brushed, she realized she only had her normal nightshirt in the bathroom. That wouldn't do. Seduction in Snoopy wasn't quite what she'd envisioned. She wrapped her bath towel around her and went in search of clothes.
So, here she stood. Wrapped in a towel, doing ridiculous toe exercises in her carpet that weren't working. And he'd be here any second.
Her stomach shifted into overdrive as she hurried to her dresser. She dug to the back of her underwear drawer, past the utilitarian white undies until her fingers hit paydirt. She'd bought an ivory lace and satin camisole to wear with an outfit and it had come with matching tap panties. They would have to do.
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