A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  “I’m mad at myself, Chelsea.” He stood up and started to pace, his body long and elegant in his suit. “I should have known better. I should have understood that it couldn’t work. I’m not going to fight you. You’ve made it plain what you want.”

  “So you’re mad I want to work for Ten. Why? Did you think I would be happy staying at home all the time?”

  “I gave you a perfectly good alternative. You could become a missing persons expert.”

  “And I’ll look into it, but Simon, you don’t get to choose my career.” Had he thought once he got her in bed that she would be so enthralled with him she would give herself up? “You really did just see it as a challenge, didn’t you? You wanted to see if you could change me. If you could make me into something I’m not.”

  “That’s not true,” he shot back.

  “From where I’m sitting it is. Here’s the funny thing. You really did change me. You really did show me I could be something more. I wish you could have loved me. I really do because I love you, Simon. I realized something last night. I’ve spent most of my life wanting to go back and make all the bad stuff go away, but I would have been different. If I hadn’t gone through that pain, I would have had a different life, one that didn’t lead Charlotte to Ian, one that wouldn’t have led me to you. So I think I’ll take the pain because I wouldn’t change a minute of it. Not even this one. I really do love you.”

  His face went a vibrant red and his hands were suddenly fists clutched at his sides. “Prove it. Bloody well choose me. Stay with me. You say you love me, but you’re walking out…”

  There was a knock at the door and Simon turned. She watched as he seemed to shake off the volcanic rage that had threatened to explode. He was always in control. Oh, she’d seen his dark side, but never this rage, this passion that had almost consumed him.

  Walking out? What was that supposed to mean?

  The door opened and Ian walked in, his face flushed. He moved with none of his natural grace. “I’m taking Charlotte to the hospital.”

  She completely forgot about their fight, her heart suddenly in her throat. “What? Why? Where is she?”

  “I’ve called in and they’re waiting for us. She’s with Jesse waiting for the water taxi. She’s spotting. Heavily,” Ian explained.

  Oh, god, she couldn’t lose the baby. “I should go with her.”

  Ian shook his head. “Please, let me take care of her.”

  Because if she was there, Charlotte might turn to her sister when she should look to her husband. Chelsea nodded, tears in her eyes. This was yet another thing she had to let go of. She had to honor her sister’s husband. “Of course. Please let me know if she’s okay. We’ll get the package so as soon as she’s ready, we can go home.”

  Simon shook his head. “We can’t. We’re down a man. We’re not doing this today.”

  “It’s your op,” Ian said, his face pale. “You have to do what you have to do, but I need Charlotte well. I’m worried the stress of having Chelsea targeted is getting to her. I’m sorry, man.”

  Simon held out a hand. “There’s no need. Call us if you need anything. We’ll come down with you.”

  Ian’s head shook. “No. Just keep her safe here.”

  What he didn’t say, Chelsea surmised, was that he didn’t want to make a vulnerable Charlotte a target because she was too close to Chelsea. Ian turned and walked out, and Chelsea couldn’t stand the slump to his shoulders that told her he wasn’t sure tragedy hadn’t already happened. For all he’d said he wasn’t sure he wanted kids, Chelsea knew he would ache forever if Charlotte lost this baby.

  Whatever was going on between her and Simon had to be put aside. “I’m going to get that package.”

  Simon stared at the door Ian had just left through. “I can stop you. I can keep you here.”

  “Don’t. I owe her. She’s my sister and she’s in trouble because of me.” She had to make him understand. “We can do this. You and me and Jesse. All we have to do is walk into the post office and pick up a package. It will be fine.”

  “We wait.”

  “And if Charlotte loses the baby? Or if they save the baby? We just expect her to wait here until you’re sure no one can touch us? I get that somehow I’ve disappointed you. I didn’t turn into the person you wanted me to be, but this is who I am, Simon. This is who you made me. I can’t run anymore. You took that away from me. I have to stand and fight for the people I love. I already let my friend down. I can’t let her down, too. Yes, you can stop me, but you’ll take something precious away from me.”

  She’d just found her courage, her willingness to sacrifice. She couldn’t be put in a cage again, slotted into a little box where she was meaningless.

  Simon stood there for a moment and when he turned around, he was calm and placid again. “All right then. Get cleaned up. Dress in nondescript clothing. Nothing that would bring attention to yourself. Hat and sunglasses. We’ll walk about for a bit to make sure no one is following us before we go to the post office. We’ll leave when Jesse gets back.”

  She turned away, knowing she’d won the battle, but terribly afraid that she’d just lost the war.

  * * * *

  Simon felt the sun on his skin and wished they were exactly what their cover was—two tourists on vacation, taking in the sites of Venice. Two lovers on holiday.

  Not two agents who could barely speak to each other about to embark on something dangerous.

  Her hand was in his, but she wasn’t clutching it the way she had before. Since that moment she’d learned her sister was in trouble, she’d been all business. Once he’d told her the op was a go, she’d pulled away from him.

  What game was she playing? And why did he find himself hoping he could get her to stop playing it?

  “Piazza San Marco,” she said with the slightest hint of a grin. “Where the only thing that outnumbers the tourists are the pigeons.”

  St. Mark’s Basilica was to his left, the grand church rising up from the piazza. There was already a long line waiting for tours. Straight ahead was the lagoon, the emerald waters just beyond the two massive granite columns that held symbols of the two patron saints of Venice, St. Theodore and St. Mark. He could see the gentle sway of gondolas in the lagoon.

  And lots of pigeons to his right.

  One landed right on his bloody shoulder. He shuddered and nearly jumped a foot to get the blighter off him.

  “You’re afraid of birds,” Chelsea said, a light coming over her face for the first time. “Oh, my god, the great secret agent is scared of a little bird.”

  He wasn’t afraid exactly. He simply hated them because they were winged rats with dead black eyes. And that had been an awfully big bird. “I don’t like anything that can land on me.”

  “You were a pilot. Shouldn’t birds be like your brothers or something.” She seemed deeply amused as he jerkily sidestepped another bloody pigeon. It was one thing he definitely preferred about the States. Birds in Europe were so much more entitled. Birds in Texas ended up on his plate.

  “My brother doesn’t carry a million different bacteria in his beak.” Clive merely carried judgment and intolerance in his system. Simon was used to both.

  She smiled at him, the same open smile he’d started to crave. “I so wish I had a video camera. I would watch that again and again.”

  “We should keep moving,” he said, beginning to walk. There was a set of shops ahead that seemed relatively pigeon free. He touched his earpiece. It was flesh colored. When they’d switched to this piece of technology, he’d allowed his hair to grow out the slightest bit, covering the receiver in his ear. This particular earpiece however only went to one other person. “How are we doing?”

  Jesse was set at the post office. He’d followed them briefly and then wound back around to make sure there was no one waiting for them. “I’m in place, partner. I’ve got eyes on the site and I haven’t seen anything that looks like a tail.”

  It was precisely why Ian had
broken in the night before. They wanted to keep the watchers watching the wrong place. Adam had put out false information that Chelsea would be in Italy in two days.

  By then, hopefully, they would be gone.

  Jesse continued. “And according to the big guy, Charlotte is resting comfortably for now. They should have some test results shortly.”

  “Excellent. We’ll pick up our package and then prepare to leave.” He didn’t even want to examine the bloody thing until they were in the air. He would, but the instinct was strong to grab it and run and not look back. He was being far too cautious. He knew it. This was why he shouldn’t have kept control. He was too close to the mission, but he couldn’t leave it in another’s hands, either.

  He was stuck. Like he was stuck with Chelsea.

  “The place looks crazy crowded though. The post office that is. They’ve got people in a line outside just to get a number to get in,” Jesse explained.

  He didn’t want her out in the open. “We’ll grab an espresso and give it fifteen minutes. Call back then.”

  He let the line go dead.

  “What’s wrong?” Chelsea asked as he led her to the line of shops on the edge of the piazza. He could smell the rich espresso and cappuccinos the cafés were pouring.

  “There’s an issue at the post office.” He should have thought about that, should have planned to be there at the least busy time.

  “Ah, it’s packed. Yeah, they can get that way. There’s usually only two people working and one of them is always on break, and let me tell, you don’t complain or they kick your ass out and you have to go to the back of the line. The joys of government jobs in Italy. Do you know how hard it is to get fired here? Impossible. So they treat it like their own little kingdom. After the first time I got kicked out, Charlotte wouldn’t let me go back. Naturally they all loved Charlotte.” She sighed. “Any news from the hospital?”

  “She’s doing fine. They’re running tests and they’ll know something very soon.” If there was one thing he could believe about her, it was that she adored her sister.

  What had it taken for her to let Ian go without her? A few months back, she wouldn’t have. She would have been right in that taxi with them, causing trouble and forcing herself into their marriage.

  What had changed? Had it really been him?

  “That’s good. I hope.” She stopped when he did, walking from the sunlit square into the dark café.

  “Do you want anything?” It was as good a way as any to pass the time and likely cheaper than taking her to the Louis Vuitton store he saw up ahead. Though he would really like nothing more than indulging her, he doubted she would take him up on it. After all, he’d been a right bastard to her.

  She gave the barista a tentative smile. “Un espresso, por favore.”

  “Due,” he said, holding up two fingers, though he knew how to count in Italian. Just not much more. He could speak French, but most Italians hated the French as much as they did the English. He wouldn’t even go into how they felt about Americans.

  She nodded and turned to begin her process.

  “I’m sorry about this morning.” He didn’t really have any right to treat her like that. He’d been angry, hurt, and he’d taken it out on her.

  “Me, too. I wish I understood.”

  He sighed. He couldn’t comprehend how she was confused. “I don’t think a long distance relationship is going to work. Ten isn’t exactly going to allow you the freedom to date who you like.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Maybe it was easier to have this conversation in public where he wouldn’t give in to his need to shout. “You’ll be wherever Ten says you’ll be and I’ll be where Tag needs me. How did you see this working, love? You tell me you love me and then you turn around and make it impossible for us to be together.”

  “Simon, I work from a computer. I can be wherever there’s Internet.”

  She was being naïve. “He won’t allow it.”

  “He will if he wants me. Now that I know he doesn’t have you to hang over my head, there’s really not a lot he can do. I guess he could arrest me.”

  He felt his fists clench, the very thought causing his blood pressure to rise. “I’ll kill him. Don’t think I can’t do it.”

  Those lips curled up again. “I know you can, babe. I’m not stupid. I know there will be times when you’re somewhere in Europe and I’m stuck in the States, but that’s kind of the way two income households operate and I need to work.”

  “I don’t want you to work for Ten.”

  Her shoulders squared as though ready for a fight. “I don’t think it has anything to do with distance. You don’t trust me.”

  He rarely really trusted anyone at all. “I certainly don’t trust Tennessee Smith.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “I don’t want Ten.”

  “You say that now.”

  She sighed, obviously frustrated. “All right. I won’t take the job with Ten. Are you going to get a say in any job I do take? Can I only take the ones you approve of? How long will it be before this comes between us again? I’m willing to change to be with you. You were right. We’re very much alike and you have issues, too. Are you willing to deal with them to be with me?”

  He thought about Ian. It must have gone against every instinct in his body to allow Charlotte to come to Italy, but he’d done it because she needed to be here. Even though it might have cost him, Simon rather thought Ian would make the same choice again because that was who Charlotte was.

  Chelsea was becoming something new, a better person, but she would always chafe at restrictions that didn’t make sense to her.

  Would she ever understand that he needed her close to him to feel safe? Was it fair to her? Was he really expecting her to live in his back pocket? Or should he examine himself and realize that he wanted her at home waiting for him, dependent on him. And that wasn’t her. This was a woman who not only ran when she needed to, she’d built the only business she could. Did he really want to make her dependent? He hadn’t fallen in love with her because she was docile. Was he trying to make her into something she wasn’t because he couldn’t trust her as she was?

  He needed to let her go.

  Or could he just love her and hope for the best. Wasn’t that the essence of faith? The universe wasn’t going to open up and promise him that everything would work out, that he would have what he wanted.

  All he could do was love her and hope that she loved him enough to not leave.

  Was that what a marriage was for? Two people who loved each other enough to stick it out. It might not work, but he couldn’t know if he didn’t try.

  He had three choices. He could let her go. He could push her. She’d never had a lover. It would buy him a lot of tolerance. He could bend her to his will, but there would likely be a cost.

  Or he could take that mighty leap and just maybe get everything he hoped for.

  “Simon?” Chelsea tugged on his jacket. “Simon, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  He brought his head up and there was a man in a black hoodie, despite the heat of the day. He strode across the square toward the little café.

  A bright smile crossed Chelsea’s face. “Al!”

  “Chelsea, no.” He reached out for her, but she was moving too quickly and she obviously hadn’t figured out what he had.

  “Mr. Weston,” a low voice said from behind. “You should probably let her go. Don’t worry. We’ll take you with us when we go.”

  He felt something hard press into his spine. Gun.

  He had to hope that Chelsea would forgive him when he killed her friend because there was only one reason Albert Krum was alive and walking toward her.

  Al was The Collective.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chelsea couldn’t believe what she was seeing, but she kept her voice down. It was like a ghost had appeared in the middle of the city. “Al? Is that you?”

  He grinned her way. “Yes. God,
Chelsea, it’s good to see you, baby.”

  She had zero idea why he’d called her baby, but maybe his near-death experience had made him more affectionate. A huge weight lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t gotten him killed. “I thought you were dead.”

  He hugged her, pulling her into his arms and squeezing tight. “Definitely not dead. I need your help though.”

  Nothing added up. She’d been so sure they would kill him. Simon had been sure. “How did you get away?”

  “I’m really smart.”

  A cold chill went through her. That wasn’t an answer and now she was actually thinking. She’d just reacted when she’d seen him, her relief a palpable thing. But now she had to think. He really should be dead. There had been zero reason for The Collective to keep him alive after they’d realized she wasn’t going to be allowed to turn herself in.

  She pulled back, but he kept his hands on her elbows, holding her fast. He was stronger than she remembered. Or stronger than he’d wanted her to believe? He was dressed differently than he had before. When they’d met, he’d worn baggy clothes. He’d either lost weight or he’d been hiding his true form. Either way, it was time to retreat. “I should get back to my partner.”

  His hands tightened and there was a cruel twist to his lips. “Your partner or your lover?”

  Shit and double shit. Simon was going to kill her. She brought her eyes up, really looking at him. They’d been friends through e-mail and the Internet. They’d only met once and yet she’d run to him. She hadn’t thought about anything except the fact that she hadn’t gotten him killed. She was an idiot. “You didn’t get away, did you?”

  He started to turn her around, his hand firmly on her arm. He was far more muscular than she’d assumed. She was forced to move with him, and her heart started to pound. Simon was standing at the bar of the café, but he wasn’t alone. There were two men right behind him, very likely with guns pressed to his back. One was tall and muscular and seemed to be talking to him. The other stood back, his face a grim mask.