Married To A Stranger

by Connie Bennett

  Jenn didn’t want to go back to being Maddy Hopewell, the vulnerable, simpering little idiot who’d allowed herself to be emotionally seduced by a handsome, sweet-talking stranger. But she was the one who’d asked to come back to Bride’s Bay, and she was the one who had accepted Anthony Vernandas’s takeit-or-leave-it ultimatum.

  “All right, Adam.” She turned to him and managed a sweetly venomous smile. “I’m going for a walk, darling. Would you like to come along?”

  Adam knew that tone and that smile. Both were dangerous. “Don’t push your luck, Jenn,” he warned her sternly. “I don’t blame you for hating my guts, but don’t lose sight of the fact that there may be an assassin out there who wants you dead. You can blast me verbally all you want, but don’t get cute and do something stupid just to spite me.”

  She glared up at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Adam. Maddy Hopewell was the ninny with a gift for doing stupid things—like believing every word her loving hubby told her.” She took a step toward him. “But Maddy Hopewell is gone. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll still answer to the name, but I’m Jenn Lambert now, and I’m through being stupid. Just do your job, quit messing with my head, and we’ll get along fine.”

  With that, she whirled on her heel and stalked out the door. Adam didn’t have any choice but to follow her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “THESE ARE OUR PRIMARY targets. The first three are known to have made threats against the President, they have extensive paramilitary skills, and they are not currently under surveillance. They’ve gone underground, and they could be anywhere, including Bride’s Bay. The next two…”

  Dan Luther was using a remote control to advance the slide projector, so that the pictures flashing on the wall corresponded to his descriptions of potential presidential assassins. As he did so, another agent was passing out folders containing the same pictures to his sixty-five colleagues in the crowded meeting room. Jenn hadn’t seen her picture up on the wall yet, but she fully expected to any second now.

  She’d spent all afternoon at the resort studying faces, but none of them stirred any memories—not even the ones Adam pointed out as being agents she’d worked with before. It was frustrating, but at least she felt that she was finally exercising a measure of control over her life. As Maddy Hopewell, she’d been on the defensive—just a poor victim who was immobilized by fear and uncertainty.

  Now she had knowledge and a purpose—to expose an assassin and clear her name. It didn’t matter if the Secret Service splashed her photograph across the wall. She would prove her innocence eventually.

  “I’m afraid you won’t find a photo in your packets for the final threat of this briefing,” Luther said, drawing Jenn’s full attention. “Some of you may have heard that one of our intelligence-gathering networks overseas picked up the rumor that the international assassin known as the Raven has accepted a multimillion-dollar contract to kill the President. This is an unverified rumor, but an event here in South Carolina has led us to conclude that there may be a measure of validity to the threat.”

  At that point, he introduced Jenn Lambert and Jacob Carmichael as operatives from another government agency who were working undercover using the names of Maddy and Adam Hopewell. Their goal, he stated, was to flush out the Raven, and he went on to explain the circumstances surrounding the attack on Maddy and her resulting amnesia.

  He told the story in broad strokes and made it clear that much of the information about the Raven’s involvement in the attack was pure speculation. In fact, he placed no more emphasis on the Raven than he’d given the other six potential assassins, which surprised Jenn. Luther directed his men to look at two vastly different rough sketches purported to be the Raven, then went on to other business.

  That’s it? Jenn wondered as Luther began discussing employee clearances and the guest list for the reception in the garden. She glanced at Adam, who was sitting to her right, but when she caught his eye, he only shrugged as if to say, “What did you expect?”

  It was another fifteen minutes before the briefing adjourned and she was able to ask the question aloud. As soon as the agents began filing out, Jenn pushed her way toward Dan Luther. “That’s all?” she said to him. “An international terrorist plans to kill the President, and you make it sound like an inconsequential footnote!”

  Luther began gathering up his notes. “Mrs. Hope-well, in the past ten years I’ve heard at least a hundred rumors about terrorist plots, and the Secret Service has taken every one of them seriously. In fact, I personally stood post over our past president when we heard that Carlos the Jackal had accepted a contract to kill him during a California political rally.”

  “I take it the assassination attempt never took place.”

  “No, it didn’t. Now, that doesn’t mean we dismiss threats like this one with the Raven, but frankly, I’m much more concerned about this man.” Luther showed her the first photo he’d displayed on the wall. “He’s a lunatic mercenary who blames the President’s arms embargo on San Sebastian for the death of his wife. He’s a dead-shot sniper, he’s sworn to kill the President, and we don’t have a clue where he might be. If there’s going to be an assassination attempt during the President’s vacation, I’d put my money on the embittered merc, not the professional hit man.”

  “Why?” Jenn challenged him. “Why would you think one more dangerous than the other?”

  “Because in this day and age, anyone who wants to kill the President has to be willing to trade his life to do it. That doesn’t fit the profile of an assassin like the Raven. I’ll grant you he’s versatile—he’s claimed credit for just about every type of kill you can name-but he’s never taken on a target as well protected as the President of the United States, and I don’t believe he ever would. What’s the point of a multimillion-dollar payoff if you know you’ll never escape to enjoy it?”

  He had a point, but Jenn still felt he wasn’t taking the Raven seriously enough. “But what about remote-control devices, like a bomb?”

  “A remote possibility at best.” A smile played around his mouth as though he was pleased with his little pun. “I’ve spent most of the past month on this island with a team of dog handlers and demolition experts combing every inch of the golf course and every other location the President might visit. I’d stake my life on the fact that there’s not an ounce of any type of explosive on Jermain Island, and there’s not a prayer of smuggling any on at this point.”

  “So you’re just going to dismiss the threat?”

  “Not at all.” He put the last folder into his briefcase and snapped the locks. “But I’m not going to ask the President to cancel his vacation because of it, either.”

  “You should,” Adam said as he leaned his hip against the table that sat between him and the agent.

  Luther shook his head. “We’ve covered this territory before, and the answer is still the same. The President will not cancel without a verifiable offer of proof. A rumor started by a shopkeeper in Turuq doesn’t qualify as proof, even if the man did turn up dead.”

  “But what about the attack on me—and the microdot with Bride’s Bay on it that was found in my purse?” she asked.

  “You’re in a very dangerous business,” he countered. “That attack on you could have come from any number of sources, and as for the microdot, it could be something you invented to throw us off the track.”

  “Or it could be that the Raven killed a shopkeeper in Turuq and tried to kill me to prevent anyone from finding out how he plans to kill the President here at Bride’s Bay,” Jenn said.

  Luther didn’t argue with her. “That’s absolutely right, which is why my men will take every possible precaution to prevent anyone from getting close to the Chief Executive. And that includes you.”

  Jenn wasn’t offended. “Does that mean I’ve been uninvited to the reception in the garden labyrinth?”

  “No, your invitation stands, because I can’t eliminate the possibility that you might recognize the Raven if he really is h
ere.” He clearly wasn’t happy with what he was saying. “But like all the guests, you’ll be searched and you’ll be watched very closely,” he said, glancing at Adam. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  He picked up his briefcase and departed.

  Jenn caught the last look that had passed between the men, and she took a guess as to its meaning. “Did you and Luther argue over whether I should be admitted to the reception?”

  Adam nodded. “Several times.”

  “Who won?”

  “I did. When Judge Bradshaw put our names on the guest list last week, Luther felt obligated to explain to me why he was going to reject us.”

  Jenn frowned. “He doesn’t take the Raven threat seriously. So why did he think having me at the party was a problem?”

  Adam came to his feet. “Luther takes everything seriously, and he doesn’t believe in taking any more chances than absolutely necessary. That’s why he threw a major fit when he learned that we had brought you here. He tried to put a stop to our operation, but. when his boss went head-to-head with my boss, the Secret Service lost.”

  Jenn still hadn’t come to grips with the scope of the intricate scenario that had been playing out around her for the past two weeks. Knowing that she might well hold the life of the President of the United States in her hands was more than a little overwhelming, and there were still too many questions she didn’t know the answers to. It was time she got her priorities straight.

  She glanced at the door on the other side of the room. It was closed and all the agents were gone. She was alone with Adam, and there were some things she had to know.

  She turned to him. “Why did you volunteer for this job, Adam?”

  The question clearly caught him off guard. He registered surprise for a moment, then a cautious look came over his face. “Are you really ready to listen to the truth?”

  “I’m ready to ask some questions and judge for myself whether or not they’re the truth,” she answered.

  “Fair enough.” He leaned against the table again, stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his arms across his chest. Jenn knew the pose wasn’t nearly as casual as it seemed.

  “I volunteered to play your husband because I was the only person in a position to do the job who believed you were innocent, and I didn’t like the fact that they were throwing you out as bait. When I couldn’t convince Tony Vernandas to bring you in and tell you the truth, I had two choices. Take you to Bride’s Bay myself and play out the “second honeymoon” scenario, which was designed to give us an excuse to be on the island, or let the job go to someone who didn’t know you, didn’t believe in your innocence and who might be willing to sacrifice your life in order to make the biggest capture of his career.”

  “So you volunteered solely for my protection?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, at the very least his answer coincided with what Vernandas had told her about Adam bringing in unauthorized bodyguards, but Jenn wasn’t taking anything at face value ever again. “But why did you believe in me when no one else did?”

  “Because I know that you could never collaborate with a terrorist. The death of your parents in that bombing shaped your life in ways you can’t possibly imagine. You’d die before you’d let someone like the Raven use you.”

  He sounded so convincing, and he was saying exactly what Jenn needed to hear. Which made her even more suspicious of him. “What makes you think you know me so well? That night in the restaurant when you were teasing me about my occupation you said you recruited me into a life of espionage. Was that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would the Agency have chosen someone like me? A college dropout who was more interested in partying on the Riviera than doing anything of value with her life.”

  A restrained smile drew his lips into a tight line. “Don’t take your dossier quite so literally, Jenn. I was ordered to recruit you because you didn’t give us much choice. What’s not outlined in the dossier is that after you left college you looked up some of your father’s friends and colleagues in the diplomatic corps and asked them to put you in touch with intelligence sources. You hoped they’d lead you to the terrorists who murdered your parents and the seventy-eight other passengers on that plane.”

  “I did?”

  Adam nodded. “Using your own finances and improvised resources, you were very methodically trying to infiltrate the terrorist cell—and what’s remarkable is that you were getting close enough that you were about to get killed. That’s when I was sent in to see if I could convince you to do things a little more conventionally.”

  She tried to imagine doing something that audacious and couldn’t quite bring it into focus. “I was either very stupid back then or very brave,” she said.

  “You were never stupid, Jenn,” he assured her. “But you had a bad habit of not looking before you leapt. It’s gotten you in trouble at the Agency more than once.”

  She didn’t want to hear the tenderness in his voice or see it on his face, but it was there nonetheless. She tried to rally her defenses against it. “How did we really meet?” she asked him.

  “Exactly as I told you. The casino in Cannes during the week of the film festival. You were wearing that white drop-dead dress and I was totally blown away. You were the most incredibly beautiful—”

  “Hold it. Don’t lay it on too thick, Adam. I just had supper an hour ago,” she said caustically.

  “You asked me to tell you the truth,” he reminded her. “That’s what I’m doing. Ten years ago you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever met, and that’s still true today. I fell in love with—”

  “That’s enough,” she snapped, starting for the door. “I asked for facts, not more emotional manipulation.”

  Adam wasn’t ready to let her escape, though. He sprang away from the table and grabbed her arm before she was halfway across the room. “Oh, no, Ms. Lambert. You’re not going anywhere yet. You wanted answers? Well, you’re going to get them.”

  “I wanted the truth, not another phony love scene engineered to keep me under your thumb!”

  “That was never my intention, Jenn,” he replied hotly, his frustration finally getting the better of his temper. “You know, if you had your memory back, you’d understand where every word I said to you came from these past two weeks. If you had Jenn Lambert’s memories, you’d remember the lighthouse on the coast of Malta where I asked you to marry me eight years ago. You’d remember how we fought like cats and dogs when we first met and you realized I was trying to put you out of the free-lance terrorist-hunting business. You’d remember how well we worked together in those early years after you finished your training. You’d remember how close we became—and how much I loved you.”

  His voice had grown soft, and though his hand was still on her arm, it wasn’t what was keeping her close to him as he continued, “If you had your memory back, Jenn, you’d know that everything I said to you was something I’d said before or something I wanted to say but never got the chance.”

  Jenn was mesmerized, and she didn’t want to be. “You asked me to marry you once?”

  “I asked you several times, but you wouldn’t do it. You were obsessed with doing everything in your power to eliminate terrorism in the world, and that took precedent over every other consideration. Even us.”

  She finally yanked her arm away from his hand and freed herself. “If I could remember all those things you just mentioned, would I forgive you for manipulating my emotions so brutally?”

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t know. You might not forgive me, but I think you would understand that I was trying to tell you as much of the truth as I could without totally destroying the scenario Vernandas wanted me to follow.”

  “Truth?” she asked incredulously. “You pretended we were married when the truth was I had rejected your marriage proposals. If you wanted to be truthful, why didn’t you say we were separated, or our marriage was in trouble? Why didn’t you giv
e me a choice, instead of making me feel guilty at every turn because I couldn’t remember a gloriously magnificent, utterly perfect marriage that didn’t exist!”

  “Jenn, you were already confused. If you think pretending we were happily married was cruel, try to imagine how much more confused you would have been if I’d added an element of marital strife. Since I couldn’t have told you the real reason you wouldn’t marry Jake Carmichael, I’d have been forced to invent reasons why our marriage was in trouble. That would have been totally counterproductive, because my first objective in this whole mess was to get you to trust me. And believe me, Jenn, trust doesn’t come easy for you. It never has.”

  He was right about that, but that didn’t mean he’d been right about everything else. “But you did more than try to get me to trust you, Adam. You played the perfect husband and worked overtime at getting me to fall in love with you!”

  “That’s not true,” he protested, then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Look, Jenn, I’m a long way from being perfect, and I will accept being accused of enjoying having you need me. And yes, I did manipulate your emotions once or twice, hoping it would help you to trust me, but I never, ever deliberately did anything designed to make you fall in love. And when I realized that you had, and that you were ready to tell me, that’s when I bailed out. I knew if I let you say you loved me, you’d never forgive me.”

  Jenn wanted to believe him. Part of her was crying out, begging to be allowed to believe, but after so many lies how could she possibly trust anything he said? How did she know that this wasn’t just another layer of lies? “Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Carmichael, but if you were hoping for absolution, you bailed out a little too late,” she told him. “Maddy Hopewell may have been a weak little fool who fell for your sweet talk, but I’m not Maddy. But thanks, anyway, for the history lesson,” she said as she turned for the door.

  THE CENTER COURTYARD of the garden labyrinth had been transformed into a fantasyland. Hundreds of strings of softly twinkling lights had been woven into the seven-foot-tall shrubs that formed the perimeter of the enclosure, delicate paper lanterns lit from within hung overhead, and votive candles in white parchment luminaries lined the corridors of the maze that led the guests into the courtyard.