“Hey! Get a nurse in here! I think he’s coming through.” Quinn heard Malik’s frantic voice. “Quinn, can you hear me? Quinn?”
Quinn eased his eyes opened, wondering what all the commotion was about. He felt like he’d been hit by a train and dragged miles along the track. Where the hell am I? he thought, but when he saw Malik, who looked worse than Quinn felt, it all came back to him. Tzbekystan, the documents, footsteps…Alandra…
“Lan,” he rasped, his throat feeling like someone had scraped the inside of it with an ax. “How is she?”
“Who?”Malik asked, standing over him.
“Alandra. Where is she?”A prickle of fear crept up Quinn’s arms and his pulse pounded in his ears at the confusion he saw on Malik’s face. “Where is she?”he yelled, anxiety rioting within him.
“Man, just calm down.” Malik put his hand on his shoulder trying to keep him from moving. “Quinn, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, but you have to calm the hell down. It was probably just a dream. You’re in Germany. You took a couple of bullets to the back, but you’re going to be all right.”
“Where is Alandra? Tzbekystan…she was there!”
Malik’s brows drew together. “Q, there was no one there but us, and the Tangos who were shooting at us. After you exited the building, for whatever reason you went in the opposite direction of what we had planned. The Tangos spotted you and all hell broke loose.”
“She was there.”
“I didn’t see any woman.”
“No! She was there!” Quinn jerked and a blinding pain gripped him from the base of his neck to the bottom of his feet. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing happened. No sound, only the feeling of a serrated knife being dragged along his spine, twisting, turning and scraping against his bones. Fear lodged in his throat. He had to get out of there. He had to find her. His heart pounded against his ribcage. He couldn’t breathe. Full blown panic seized him like a straightjacket, restricting him from moving or speaking. He had to find her. He had to get to her.“Alandra! Alandra! Alandra!”
****
“Alandra! Alandra!” Quinn yelled and jerked awake, gasping for air. He looked around frantically, the room dark except for traces of sunlight sneaking through the semi-closed blinds and the smell of burnt logs in the fireplace. His heart pounded, while sweat dripped from his body as if he had run a marathon. It had been months since he dreamed about that night.
Dazed and winded, Quinn took several deep breaths. He glanced around the room, thinking he had a bottle of water nearby. From his cotton-ball dry mouth, and the jackhammer banging in his head, one would think he had a hangover, but he’d sipped less than half the glass of brandy. He dragged a rough hand down his damp face and released a raspy growl that started in the pit of his stomach and leaped from his throat.
“This is a shitty ass way to start the day,” he said aloud just as the piercing sound of his cell phone disturbed the stillness of the room.
He yanked it from the side table. “Yeah!”
“Man, I’ve been calling you. Where have you been?” Wiz asked.
Quinn glanced at the clock and dropped his head back against the seat – seven-ten in the morning. “What’s up?”
“You’re usually awake at the crack of dawn. Everything all right?”
He rested his hand over his eyes then raked it down his face. “Yeah, everything’s cool. So what’s so important that you’re calling me this early in the morning?”
“Your wife.”
Quinn sat up. Flashbacks of his dream raced through his mind. “Soon to be ex-wife once I figure out how to explain her resurrection to a divorce attorney.”
Wiz chuckled. “Man, I almost didn’t recognize you last night. I can’t believe the way you treated her, and from what Malik told me about her self-defense skills, I’m surprised she let you get away with it.”
That had shocked Quinn as well. Alandra was a firecracker in the bedroom and out. No way would she have taken a tongue lashing from him or anyone else back in the day.
“Since you didn’t give her a chance to explain her whereabouts, I’m sure curiosity is eating you alive on why she suddenly appeared on your doorstep.”
There was definitely a disadvantage to having people in your life who knew you better than you knew yourself. Yes, he wanted to know what was going on with Alandra and what she meant about it being too dangerous to seek him out sooner, but he still couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that she was alive. Despite being angry with her, though, there was a stirring within him that he could barely control when he’d laid eyes on her. She was still the sexiest woman he had ever known…even with the crazy color contact lenses and straight red hair, which he hated.
“Well, I know you still have feelings for her. Your mouth said one thing, but that wasn’t the message I saw in your eyes…well, at least when you weren’t scowling.”
“Cameron…” Was he that transparent? If so, he must be losing his edge. As an operative, he learned very quickly that the less the enemy could read on your face, the better.
“Okay, I’m just sayin’. Anyway, I got some info for you that I think you’ll find interesting. Did you know Alandra was accused of selling government secrets to North Korea shortly before she was killed? Or supposedly killed?”
This was not a conversation Quinn wanted to have this early in the morning. Actually, he didn’t want to have it at all. He didn’t want to hear about the government, covert operations, or the selling of secrets to North Korea. He traded that life in years ago for a more peaceful life.
“So is that a yes? You knew?” Wiz asked.
Quinn hesitated. “Yeah, I knew.” He stood and rolled his neck left and then right to work out the kinks from sleeping in the chair all night.
“But did you also know around that same time, 1.5 million dollars was transferred into her bank account, but mysteriously vanished within days of her disappearance?”
“What? Were you able to back-trace the transfer?”
“Ah, now that’s where it gets interesting.”
Quinn moved toward the stairs and took them two at a time. “Hold that thought. I’ll be at your place in twenty.”
A short while later, Quinn stood in Wiz’s office facing a fifty-inch, wall-mounted computer monitor staring at Alandra’s CIA identification photo. This was the woman he remembered - wild curly brown hair, skin the color of bronze, expressive light-brown eyes and those luscious pouty lips. God he missed her. There was a time he couldn’t imagine living without her. Regardless of their unconventional careers, they took advantage of every moment they had together. Meeting up in various places around the world, they did everything they could to keep their love alive. This was why he couldn’t understand how she could be alive for the past three years and not seek him out.
“Can I just say, without you jumping over the desk and choking me, that you have a fine-ass wife? I can’t believe you never told me and Malik you were married. What’s up with that?”
Quinn turned to Wiz, not in the mood to answer the same questions his friends had posed the night before. It took years for him to move on and rebuild his life after Alandra, yet, in less than twenty-four hours it was as if he was reliving the nightmare.
“Like I told you guys last night, answering questions about Alandra after I thought she was dead would’ve sparked more questions that I’m still not willing to answer.”
Wiz held his gaze for a moment. “Well, alright then. No more questions.” He resumed typing on his keyboard and seconds later the printer spit out numerous sheets of paper.
“Actually, I have a question for you,” Quinn said. “What made you continue digging for information after I said I wanted nothing to do with her?”
Unfazed by Quinn’s jacked-up attitude, Wiz grabbed the papers from his printer and a remote that controlled the monitor. “Curiosity and this.” He handed Quinn the documents and pointed the remote at the screen. “I researched both Alandra Pargas and Velvet Aguilar
. She started going by Velvet two years ago while living in California. Prior to that, it was like she didn’t exist. There is no activity of any sort under either name.”
Quinn sat on the edge of Wiz’s desk, arms folded across his chest, and the papers Wiz had given him gripped in his hand. “How long has she been in Chicago?”
“Off and on for the past few months. It looks like she came here earlier in the year, when her mother was on her deathbed, but only stayed a couple of weeks that time. Prior to relocating to Chicago eight months ago, she lived in L.A,” Wiz continued. “Initially, she lived in Wicker Park, but a few weeks ago she moved to the Southside of Chicago. You’re holding a dossier of all relevant information.”
Quinn had always been amazed at the information Wiz could dig up on a person. Reluctantly, he skimmed the documents in his hand. A classified internal memo that accused Alandra of selling government secrets, as well as bank statements and several government documents Quinn wasn’t sure he wanted to read. There was a part of him that wanted to know what the last three years had been like for her. How she survived a gunshot wound to the chest and who consoled her during her recovery. But the other part of him couldn’t let go of the fact that she allowed him to believe she was dead for all those years. That he couldn’t forgive.
“So she’s the reason you got out of Special Ops?”
“Why continue protecting my country when I couldn’t even protect my woman,” Quinn said, his eyes locked on the documents in front of him.
Wiz placed the remote on his desk and took a seat on the leather sofa, his legs propped up on the coffee table. “So now what? You gon’ act like she doesn’t exist, even if it means she might be in danger?”
Quinn pushed away from the desk and dropped the papers on the sofa near Wiz. “I’ve seen her, but I still can’t believe she’s alive.” Instead of a weight being lifted from his heart, it felt as if he were trapped under a bolder. For the past few months he’d had a nagging feeling Alandra was alive, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing her again. He’ll never be able to forgive her for tossing what they had because of her job. “I’m out of here, Wiz. I have a business meeting in thirty minutes.”
“Hold up, man.” Wiz bolted from the sofa. “Right before she showed up in Tzbekystan, someone tried to frame her by leaking to the media that she was a double agent, selling government secrets to North Korea.”
“Who’s to say she wasn’t?” Quinn said flatly. “Alandra was, or is a spy. She will always be a spy, and a professional liar. Wiz, she’s part of a past that I’ve tried like hell to forget. Whatever shit she’s involved in, is on her.”
Wiz shoved him. “No matter what she is or what she’s involved in, I would think you’d want to get over yourself and find your wife! We’re not the only ones digging into her background and for all we know, she might be in some deep shit, and need your help. And if that’s not enough, maybe this next piece of information will get you off your sorry ass.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “Alandra might have died the first time protecting someone.”
Quinn stood straighter. “Who?”
“You.”
Chapter Four
Two days after Alandra’s reappearance, Quinn sat in the parking lot of the hospital where she worked. Dark clouds with the threat of snow hung low, and Bonnie Raitt’s, Since I Fell for You, played through his truck speakers, adding to his already crappy mood. He couldn’t get Wiz’s words out of his head. Had Alandra really risked her life to protect him? If so, why? Though Wiz didn’t have concrete proof, he had a good argument to back up his theory - Alandra was in Tzbekystan that night because of something or someone she felt was a threat to him.
Quinn shook his head. It didn’t make sense. He was a trained assassin. What did she think she could accomplish by being there?
He inhaled a deep breath, released it slowly and rested his head against the headrest. Seeing Alandra again had aroused old feelings and unease he thought he had put behind him the day he found out she was dead. Could he be near her again without giving into the longing, the ache that had left his heart frayed and battered years ago?
He focused his attention on the hospital entrance. He had been sitting in the lot for fifteen minutes hoping to catch her before she went in to work. Either she was late, or he had gotten her work schedule wrong.
When her four-door Honda tore into the parking lot his chest tightened. An odd reaction for a man who told himself the night before, he wanted nothing to do with Alandra. Why should he help her when she didn’t care enough to let him know she was alive? He rubbed his forehead. I’ll help her with whatever mess she’s involved in and then move on. What was it about her that made him want to protect her? He’d been with plenty of women, but no one else took his breath away like her, or tempted him to throw caution to the wind just to be with them.
Alandra stepped out of her car. Rust caked the bottom of the doors. There was a noticeable dent near the front bumper, and the driver’s side door was gray where the rest of the car was brown. The thought of his wife driving around in that death trap made him sick. My wife. He had a wife. Was he ready to reclaim her as his wife? He shook his head. How could he when he still couldn’t believe she was actually alive? And part of him felt there was something she wasn’t telling him. He could feel it in his gut.
Alandra grabbed a black messenger bag from the backseat of her car and rushed toward the entrance. Quinn jumped out of his truck and hurried to meet her.
“Alandra!” he called out.
She stopped and her back stiffened before she slowly turned around. The look she gave him would’ve made a weaker man turn and hightail it out of there, but he was no ordinary man.
“What do you want?” she snapped, her voice low and frosty.
Her attempt at intimidating him with her coldness had the opposite effect. She was sexy as hell when she was angry. Her cheeks, crimson red, burned with anger and the nostrils on her delicate nose flared. A vein in her long, tempting neck twitched and those hypnotic eyes that he had lost himself in plenty of times grew dark and insolent. Oh yeah, she was pissed. The only thing missing was her speaking Spanish, which she used to do when she was angry or making love.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” She looked at him through narrow slits and inched toward him. “The other night you didn’t want anything to do with me. You kicked me out of your house like I was some two-bit tramp that you screwed and was tired of looking at.”
He sighed and pulled his wool cap lower on his forehead. Apologizing had never come easy for him and now was no different, but if he wanted to find out what was going on, he’d better come up with something, and it had better be good.
When several people exited the hospital, Quinn attempted to pull her off to the side, but she jerked out of his grasp. “Look, I’m sorry, all right?” He tossed up his hands. “You shocked the hell out of me the other night. I was confused, angry, and shit…I didn’t know what to think.”
She glared at him, pulled her lightweight jacket closed and tugged her bag strap higher on her shoulder. She turned and walked away, moving to a small alcove just shy of the hospital entrance. Quinn followed.
“Since you want to talk, talk, because I have nothing to say to you.”
“Look, Alandra.”
Her head snapped up and her chin jutted out. “Stop calling me that! It’s Velvet.” She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “My name is Velvet Aguilar.”
Quinn cursed under his breath and closed the distance between them with one determined step. “Alandra,” he repeated, emphasizing her name. “I don’t know where you got that other name from, but I’m not about to refer to you as anything other than Alandra Pargas…Hamilton.”
She looked about as shocked as he felt by his words. One minute he wanted nothing to do with her, and the next he claimed her as his wife. What the heck is wrong with me? The sudden vulnerability he saw in her eyes made Quinn want to pull her
close and cover those sweet pouty lips with his own. The magnetic pull they once shared was stronger than ever and by the look in her eyes, she felt it too. He so wanted to kiss her, but that would be a mistake since he knew from experience that one kiss from her wouldn’t satisfy him.
“Quinn.”
Her voice quivered and Quinn wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or if it was from the cold gust of wind. He shook out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Holding on to the lapels he pulled her close, their faces within inches of one another.
“Listen to me. I’m not here to argue with you. I don’t know what brought you to Chicago, but I want to help if I can. You have to tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head, tears suddenly lacing her eyelashes. “I can’t,” she mumbled. “I—” Her voice cracked.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re involved in.”
“No. Just stay away from me. I can’t explain, because there is so much I don’t know, and it’s not safe. Please, just stay away.”
Instead of fighting the urge to wrap her in his arms, he placed his hand on the back of her head and with a gentle tug, captured her lips with a hunger that rocked him to the core. The kiss immediately exploded into something more powerful than he could imagine, and dragged his memory back to what once was. His arm snaked around her waist and hers circled his neck. He didn’t care about the thirty degree weather, or that she was late for work. All he wanted was to recapture a little of what he had missed. He would face the consequences later.
Overpowered by a wave of passion, their tongues danced to a familiar beat and Quinn deepened their kiss. His brain screamed, “Run like hell,” but his heart couldn’t let her go. An electric charge of need ripped through him in a way he had not experienced in years. He intensified the kiss, which drew a low, sexy moan from her, and encouraged him on.
Rendezvous with Danger (Reunited Series) Page 4