Married To A Stranger

by Connie Bennett

  “Assignments that didn’t put me under suspicion of any wrongdoing until you decided I killed that informant in Turuq.”

  “Give me a better explanation for the facts and you’re off the hook,” Vernandas told her.

  Every one of her senses and every fragment of her consciousness reached out in search of the explanation he wanted, but the information that would clear her—or convict her—was just out of her reach. “I don’t have an explanation. Yet.”

  “Then until you get your memory back, you’re still under suspicion,” he said without a hint of apology, and Jenn realized this was a man who didn’t have the time, patience or inclination to varnish the truth.

  That was good. Jenn didn’t want any more lies, and she didn’t want absolution unless she deserved it. Through her long night of trying to figure out who she was and how she’d gotten into this mess, she hadn’t been able to escape the guilt that had always been associated with her nightmare.

  Obviously she didn’t want to believe that she was a murderer and a traitor, but she knew she had to be prepared for that possibility. “What happens to me now?” she asked Vernandas.

  “What do you want to happen, Jennifer?”

  “I want to go back to Bride’s Bay.”

  He didn’t seem surprised. “Why?”

  “Because you still need bait. The President arrives day after tomorrow and there’s a better than fifty-fifty chance I have information that could save his life.” Jenn sat on the chair to bring herself closer to Vernandas’s level. “I don’t care what you believe about me, but I have to believe that something happened to me in Majhid Al’Enaza’s shop in Turuq that put me on the trail of the Raven. At some point, he realized I was on his tail and he tried to kill me.”

  Vernandas shook his head. “It’s a valid hypothesis, but it has one big flaw. Why didn’t you check in with Perry Ruben? You were missing for three days. There had to have been some point when you could have gotten a message through to the station to let someone in the Agency know what was happening.”

  Oh, great! Carmichael hadn’t mentioned that nasty little nail in her coffin. “I don’t know why I didn’t check in,” she said shortly, coming to her feet again. “But you have to give me a chance to figure it all out—and to prove I’m not a traitor. You have to send me back to Bride’s Bay.”

  “As I said before, why should I?”

  Jenn faced him. “Because whether I’m innocent or guilty, I’m the only person on your side who knows what the Raven looks like. I can help you find him. He wants me dead for some reason, so let me flush him out.”

  Vernandas seemed to think it over. “We’d be taking a big chance. We might be putting an assassin’s accomplice on the same island as the President.”

  “You were willing to take that chance when I was Madeline Hopewell and didn’t have the slightest idea you were using me as bait,” she reminded him.

  “Only because Jake was completely convinced your amnesia was genuine. We figured as long as you couldn’t remember being involved with the Raven, it wouldn’t matter whether you were in league with him or not.”

  “It only mattered that he come after me,” she concluded.

  “That’s right.”

  Jenn tilted her head to one side. “And what do you make of the fact that he didn’t? Is it possible that the Raven changed his plan after he failed to kill me?”

  “Possible but unlikely,” Vernandas replied. “We have to assume he thinks he’s safe as long as you can’t remember why he tried to kill you.”

  “But I could regain my memory at any time. Why is he taking that risk?”

  “He may not have had a choice. Killing you wouldn’t serve any purpose if he couldn’t do it and get away clean—and do it in such a way it wouldn’t force the President to cancel his trip to Bride’s Bay. He hasn’t had the kind of opportunities he should have had, because you were given closer cover than I’d anticipated when I planned this op,” Vernandas said.

  “Closer cover?”

  “Your bodyguards from hotel security,” he explained. “Raphaelson and DiVesta were an unauthorized element that Jake took it upon himself to provide. Their constant presence would have made it nearly impossible for the Raven to arrange an ‘accident’ for you.”

  Jenn frowned. “Why did Jake do that? What’s the good of throwing bait into the water if you’re going to encase it in glass so that the fish can’t reach it?”

  Vernandas looked down at the floor, seeming a bit embarrassed. “That’s my fault, I suppose,” he replied with a sigh, then looked at her again. “When Jake volunteered to go undercover on this operation, I failed to realize he had a hidden agenda, one that would lead him to put his interests above those of the Agency and national security.”

  “What interests were those?” Jenn asked sarcastically, unable to keep herself from thinking of the hundreds of tiny, devastating ways he’d manipulated her into falling in love with him. Obviously he’d been on one gigantic ego trip.

  But Vernandas didn’t support her assessment. “I’m sorry to say that his primary concern was keeping you alive. That’s not to say,” the director rushed on, “that we’re sorry you’ve survived. We would’ve preferred to have you alive and the Raven in custody. But despite my orders and the pressure I put on him, Jake refused to dismiss your bodyguards, and the die was cast. I’d sent him in to establish himself as your husband, and he knew damned good and well that I couldn’t pull him out without exposing the whole setup.”

  He’d been trying to protect her despite opposition from his boss? Why? she wondered. What difference had it made to him whether she lived or died when he hadn’t given a damn about the emotional damage he was doing? Jenn wanted to ask those questions and a dozen more that she hadn’t let herself consider—such as why he’d volunteered for this assignment at all.

  But asking the questions meant she’d have to process the answers, and Jenn didn’t think she had enough strength to do that and clear her name at the same time. She needed her anger because it was keeping the pain from overwhelming her. No matter what his reasons, Jacob Adam Carmichael had betrayed her. He had preyed on her vulnerability and her fears, saying all the right things to make her trust him, believe in him…love him. He had seduced her—not physically, but emotionally—and as far as Jenn was concerned, that was far, far worse.

  He was the enemy now. He was the very devil himself, and she hated him. Finding out that he had reasons, that he was human, might have lessened that hatred a little, but for the time being, hatred was the only defense she had. She wasn’t letting go of it.

  Anthony Vernandas had obviously guessed the direction her thoughts had taken. “You know, you’re wrong to blame all of this on Carmichael,” he told her.

  “Oh? Who should I blame?”

  “Me. I’m the one who planned the operation. Jake was only—”

  “Following orders?” she snapped. “Well, let me tell you, he did a brilliant job. You should definitely give him a raise. He had me convinced he was the kindest, most loving and understanding husband on the face of this earth, and I was the luckiest woman alive.”

  “He was doing what he felt necessary to protect you.”

  “He was playing God and loving every minute of it,” Jenn said.

  Vernandas frowned at her. “Why don’t you wait to make that decision until you know all the facts?”

  “I know all I need to know. Now, are you going to send me back to Bride’s Bay so that I can clear my name or not?”

  Vernandas paused a moment as though debating the issue. “Yes. But I’m not sending you back alone.”

  “From what you’ve told me, Agency operatives already outnumber Bride’s Bay guests, but you go ahead and do whatever you have to to convince yourself the President is safe. Just put me back on the island so that I can look for the Raven.”

  “All right.” He stood and picked up his briefcase. “I’ll have Jake pick you up in an hour or—”

  “No!” Jenn p
rotested. “You’re not sending me back there with him!”

  “Oh, yes I am,” Vernandas said with all the blandness of someone who knew he’d already won the upcoming contest of wills. “Your cover is nicely established as Madeline and Adam Hopewell, so—”

  “My cover is blown,” she argued. “The chief of security—”

  “Tom Graves is under control,” Vernandas informed her. “Things have not remained static in the hours since you left Bride’s Bay. When Arthur Rumbaugh saw Graves escorting you off the island, he notified us and we sent Secret Service agent Dan Luther in to talk to Graves.”

  Jenn remembered something Marta, the receptionist, had said yesterday. “That’s how you knew to expect us.”

  “Yes. Agent Luther was briefed on this situation shortly after you arrived at Bride’s Bay. He already knew about Graves’s suspicions, but when he found out what Detective Hogan had learned, we authorized Luther to bring the security chief in on what was happening. As near as we can tell, your cover story is perfectly intact.”

  “That still doesn’t mean I’m willing to go back to Bride’s Bay and play house with Jacob Carmichael!" Jenn insisted.

  “Then you’re not going back to Bride’s Bay.” He shrugged. “It’s your decision. What’s it going to be?”

  Jenn glared at him. The choice he’d given her wasn’t any choice at all. “Damn you to hell,” she muttered.

  Vernandas nodded. “I’ll have Jake here to pick you up as soon as the travel arrangements have been made.”

  THE BRIDE’S BAY high-security suite looked exactly as Jenn had left it almost twenty-four hours ago. The clothes Adam had bought for her were still in the roseroom closet. Most of his things were still in the tropical bedroom. Even the paperback spy novel, which Bobby had rescued from the beach for her, was on a side table in the parlor. The only thing missing from the suite was Jacob Carmichael, alias Adam Hope-well.

  In fact, Mr. Carmichael had been noticeably absent all day. Despite Anthony Vernandas’s edict, Adam hadn’t arrived at the safe house to pick her up, and he hadn’t been waiting for her on the private jet that whisked her from D.C. to Charleston. He wasn’t at the airport with Duke Masterson, and he hadn’t put in an appearance at the Bride’s Bay heliport. Jenn had made it all the way to her suite without catching so much as a glimpse of him.

  If his absence was a strategic ploy to fray her nerves, it was working. After Anthony Vernandas had left this morning, Jenn had steeled herself for seeing Adam, deploying her anger like chessmen arranged strategically to protect the queen. At every juncture of the trip, she’d rallied her defenses, but when no enemy had appeared the emotional roller-coaster ride had taken its toll.

  By the time she reached Bride’s Bay, Jenn was wondering how on earth she was going to survive the next week. She was already exhausted from doing battle with Jacob Carmichael—and she hadn’t even seen him yet! How could she focus her energy on flushing out an assassin and clearing her name when she was so angry at Adam she couldn’t see straight?

  But the Raven was the enemy, she reminded herself. He wanted her dead. Carmichael was just someone who’d manipulated her emotions. If she survived the Raven, she could certainly survive what Adam had done to her. She was a professional, so she’d behave professionally toward him and the pain would go away eventually.

  Moving restlessly through the empty suite, Jenn finally ended up on the balcony. The rose garden and the labyrinthine maze beyond it were crawling with Secret Service men who’d arrived en masse yesterday. The lobby had been the same; in fact, everywhere Jenn had looked on the ride from the helipad to the hotel she’d seen clean-shaven, short-haired men in dark suits, white shirts and sunglasses.

  At the moment, the President’s own personal security force seemed to be concentrating on preparations for the party in the garden. How many of them knew about her? she wondered. Had they all been given her photograph and told not to let her anywhere near the President? Did all those men in dark suits think she was a traitor? How could she possibly prove to them she wasn’t?

  “Damn it, Carmichael, where are you?” she cried in frustration. Before he’d left her this morning, Vernandas had made it very clear that Adam was in charge of this operation. If Jenn so much as breathed without his permission she would be yanked off the island immediately, robbing her of the chance to prove she wasn’t a murderer and a traitor. And if she didn’t prove that, she’d be arrested and spend the rest of her life in prison.

  Which meant, of course, that as much as it galled her to stay put, she was stuck here in this room until Adam deigned to put in an appearance. That left her pacing anxiously when she would much rather have been using that energy downstairs, strolling the grounds and studying the faces. Memories seemed to be coming to her more easily now that she knew the truth about herself. It was possible that seeing the right sight—the right face—might bring everything flooding back.

  But she couldn’t test that theory until Adam arrived, and as he’d once told her, patience wasn’t her strongest suit.

  ADAM HAD NEVER DREADED anything in his life more than he dreaded climbing the elegant old staircase that would take him up to the room where Jenn was waiting for him. He’d just left a meeting in the Fortress with Tom Graves, who was still irate because he hadn’t been told earlier about the potential threat the Raven posed. In his mind, the security chief felt that Adam had endangered the lives of two good men by putting them in the path of an international hit man and terrorist without any warning that they were up against a professional killer. He was furious with Adam, with Dan Luther and with the whole world in general.

  But even as angry as the security man had been, Adam would rather have gone another two rounds with him than face Jenn. He hadn’t wanted to come back here, but an hour of ranting, raving and threatening hadn’t convinced Tony Vernandas to let him off the hook. The director had listened dispassionately, then pointed out that Jennifer Lambert had chosen to go back into the lion’s den because she wanted to prove her innocence. Could Adam in good conscience let her face the Raven alone? After all he’d done to keep her safe, would he be able to live with himself if she died because he wasn’t there to protect her?

  Even as Vernandas had asked the questions, Adam had known he was being manipulated, but it hadn’t mattered. He had to go back and see the job through. He’d made a royal mess of things, letting his feelings for Jennifer color the decisions he’d made and the things he’d told her, but it was his mess and he had to clean it up.

  So he’d made all of Jenn’s travel arrangements and made separate ones for himself so that he could arrive ahead of her to see that everything was in order. Dan Luther had wanted to meet with him, and there’d been Tom Graves to face. But all of that was out of the way now, and he couldn’t put off seeing Jenn any longer.

  When he let himself into the suite, he found her pacing the area between the sofa and the French doors. She stopped and glared at him. Adam wondered if there would ever be a time when he didn’t think she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

  “So glad you decided to put in an appearance,” she said. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Meeting with the Secret Service and resort security,” Adam replied, throwing his garment bag over the nearest chair.

  Jenn planted her clenched fists on her hips. “Without me? How typical. Did you consider the fact that I might like to talk to the Secret Service? Or that I’ve been stuck here because I have orders not to blink without consulting you? Do you have a plan of action, Mr. Carmichael, or am I just supposed to stay locked in this room for the rest of my natural life?”

  Typical Jenn Lambert—when in doubt, come out swinging. It was the first of many traits Adam had fallen in love with a decade ago; it was the one that had reeled him in this time around, too. He took her anger on the chin without flinching because it was the very least he deserved.

  “Your schedule isn’t too demanding,” he told her, his voice calm and noncombative. �
��We’ve been invited to sit in on the Secret Service threat-assessment briefing at seven tonight. Beyond that, my plan is the same as it always was—to put you out among the guests and see if you recognize the Raven or he recognizes you.”

  “Then let’s get to it,” Jenn said, coming around the sofa. She was ready to take charge whether Jacob Carmichael liked it or not. “Thanks to you, I’ve spent over a week looking for memory cues in all the wrong places. Have I ever been to Bride’s Bay before?”

  “No.”

  She stopped in front of him. “Then tell me, what good was that delightful little trip to the lighthouse or our romantic sail around the island?”

  “Because it wasn’t our first sail or our first lighthouse,” he said softly.

  He was using the same voice on her that she’d heard a hundred times before, and his expression was achingly familiar—it was that sweet, sad, regretful, ohMaddy-why-don’t-you-remember look. But the game was over now, so why was he still trying to play with her head?

  “The point is, I should’ve been looking at faces, not landmarks,” she told him, trying her damnedest to ignore the way her heart wanted to open to him. She was striving for professionalism, and the only emotion she was willing to make the slightest bit of room for was anger. “Now, are you coming or not, Mr. Carmichael?” she asked as she moved on around him toward the door.

  “Since I have no intention of letting you leave this room without me, I suppose I’m coming,” he replied. “But there is one thing we should get straight.”

  Jenn stopped but didn’t turn around. “What?”

  “For the time being we have to maintain the cover we’ve already established, which means we should refer to each other as Adam and Maddy, even in private. When you’re undercover, it’s simpler than switching back and forth between real names and cover identities, and someone is bound to notice if you slip and call me Mr. Carmichael.”