by Diana Miller
“Are you regretting staying in? I’ll bet you could still take that other job.”
“Probably, but I don’t regret that. I’m not a private sector guy no matter what they pay, at least not yet.” He took another sip, leaned back, and crossed his legs in front of him. “But the bureau definitely has its faults.”
“Most employers do.”
They drank in silence. After a moment, Ryan straightened and set his glass on the table. “You know how I told Martin the truth about your relationship with Paul so the bureau would be more understanding about what they expected from you?”
She nodded.
“Well, they weren’t.”
At his grim expression, she tensed. She set her cup beside his glass and clenched her hands together on her lap. “What do they want me to do? Not go back to the island.” Her voice shook slightly. “I can’t do that.”
“No, nothing like that.” Ryan pried her hands apart and took one of them.
“Are they sending you away on an assignment somewhere I won’t be able to see or even talk to you? Since this matter’s nearly finished, and I know you need to get on with your life,” she made herself add, although she wasn’t sure how she’d handle Ryan’s absence. She hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he’d come to mean to her.
“It’s not that,” he said. “Although I’m not sure you’ll want to speak to me after today. Even though I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“What is it?”
He squeezed her hand. “Relax. It’s not that bad. Actually, it is bad, but not like you think.” He picked up his Scotch.
Ryan’s cryptic comments and serious demeanor were making Jillian nervous. “What is it? Tell me.”
He held his glass in front of him and examined the amber liquid. “It’s like Mark Twain, I guess.”
“What is?”
“I think he means that reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. Although I’d have expected a little more originality from a Harvard grad.”
Jillian froze. She couldn’t breathe. The ice filling her chest and lungs made inhaling impossible.
Because standing inside the doorway was Paul Devlin.
Chapter 33
“Drink this.”
Ryan raised his Scotch to Jillian’s numb lips. She sipped it. The liquid burned down her throat, and she coughed, the tears that filled her eyes overflowing onto her cheeks.
“Paul.”
“Jillian.” Paul took a step toward her. Then somehow she was in his arms and breathing in his scent, telling herself he felt and smelled too real to be a dream, a ghost, a figment of her imagination. Although of course he had to be. He’d been dead for more than three months.
“I’ve missed you so damn much.” Paul’s hands moved over her, pressing painfully hard, but she didn’t care because a dream wouldn’t bruise her, because the pain meant that even though it was impossible, he was there.
“I thought you were dead.” She was crying, her tears soaking his white shirt and burgundy silk tie, the lapel of his charcoal suit coat. “They told me you were dead.”
“I know, I know.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back to lift her chin. “I’m definitely not dead.” Then his lips were on hers. He held her tightly, as if he were trying to absorb her.
“I’d better stop while I still can,” he said roughly.
“Don’t mind me,” Ryan said from a chair. “I’m reading a magazine and politely averting my gaze.”
“I’d hate to scandalize Martin.” Paul steered Jillian onto the sofa.
Jillian forced herself to blink hard several times, despite her fear that when she closed her eyes Paul would disappear. Each time he was still there, still holding her. “You’re alive.” She stroked his face, feeling the slight rasp of his whiskers against her fingertips. “You’re really alive.”
He took her hand, moved it from his cheek, and kissed her palm. “I’m really alive.”
“Are you all right? Physically?”
“Completely.” He released her hand and ran his fingers through her hair. “You’ve got the silkiest hair.”
“How could this happen? Were Taurino’s men holding you?” Jillian stroked his face again to convince herself that this wasn’t another one of those vivid dreams that always ended with her waking up and crying.
Paul hesitated, cleared his throat. “Actually, the government had me.”
Jillian dropped her hand from his cheek. “They said you had a blood clot and died in surgery. I talked to one of your doctors.”
“I had a blood clot, and they did operate. They gave me something that knocked me out, stuck me in a body bag, and pretended I’d died and was being shipped to D.C. for an autopsy. Instead they sent me to Canada, different place but the same set-up as before, even the same guards.” He shrugged. “Once he heard I’d been shot, Martin had decided to have me die in the hospital. He was thrilled when I clotted since it made it much easier to pull off.”
“But why?” Jillian wrinkled her forehead. “Ryan said you wouldn’t need to hide out anymore, that you could give a videotaped deposition immediately.”
“Live testimony’s always better. Which Taurino’s men also know, so the government would have had to protect me anyway.”
“So you’ve been unconscious all this time?”
“No, I woke up en route to Canada.”
Jillian stiffened. “I assume you didn’t have amnesia.”
Paul swallowed loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That would be too much a B-movie cliché, wouldn’t it?”
“Which means you let me think you were dead while you were alive and well in Canada.”
“I wasn’t all that well at first,” he said. “I was pretty weak.”
“You’re completely recovered now, right?”
The look he gave her was decidedly wary. “I said I was.”
“Good. I’d hate to hurt you.” Jillian broke free of his embrace and jumped to her feet. “You bastard. How could you let me think you were dead?”
“It wasn’t my decision.”
She glared at him, clenching her fists at her sides to keep from shoving him again. Her face felt hot. “You know you could have authorized telling me.”
“I’m sorry.” Paul stood and rested a hand on her forearm. “I wanted to protect you.”
She jerked her arm away. “From what? Taurino’s dead. The government hasn’t had anyone guarding me since I left the island. Besides, if you’d thought I needed protection, you’d have hauled me off somewhere again.”
“I thought you’d be safe as long as you didn’t know I was alive. That way I wouldn’t mess up your life again.”
“Like thinking you were dead didn’t mess up my life?” She waved her hands, wishing she could shake something besides air. “I had panic attacks and took sleeping pills for more than two months. I went to a grief counselor, for God’s sake.”
“I told you she wouldn’t be too pleased.” Ryan strode toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone to discuss this.”
Jillian grabbed Ryan’s arm as he passed. “You’re staying here. You’re as bad as he is. Worse, because you knew exactly what I was going through and comforted me when you knew damn well he wasn’t even dead.”
Ryan held up his hand. “I didn’t know before yesterday. Honest.”
“He really didn’t,” Paul said.
“I don’t believe anything either of you says.” Jillian spun away and crossed her arms.
“Why didn’t you go to my funeral?”
She slowly turned back to Paul. “Excuse me?”
“I asked you why you didn’t go to my funeral. Martin said you weren’t there. I was hurt you didn’t show up.”
“You weren’t even dead.”
“You didn’t know that. If I’d been dead, I’d have been so pissed, I’d have haunted you for years.”
Jillian threw up her h
ands. “I’ll show up at your next funeral. This is a ridiculous conversation. Nearly as ridiculous as the fact that for more than three months you pretended to be dead.”
She stomped to the window and looked down at the limos and cabs streaming by on the street below. Ryan chuckled then left the room. She certainly didn’t see any humor in the situation. She was mad and hurt that after everything they’d gone through, Paul hadn’t included her in the select group who knew he was alive, that she’d wasted all that time and energy mourning someone who thought so little of her. Who wasn’t even dead.
And who’d only had her brought to him now because he expected to pick up where they’d left off on the island. His kiss showed that. He was no doubt leaving for a new assignment soon. Why bother finding another woman when he assumed she’d be more than willing?
Her teeth and fists clenched. Not in this lifetime. She marched toward the office door. Before she reached it, Paul grabbed her arms.
“Let me go.”
“Not until I’ve explained.”
“You can’t order me around. You’re not responsible for my safety anymore.”
He dragged her back to the sofa. “I’m stronger than you, and I’m not letting you leave until you’ve heard me out.” He pushed her down and sat beside her, still holding her arms. “I didn’t make the decision to pretend I was dead, and I didn’t like it.”
Jillian studied the painting on the far wall. Something impressionistic, all subtle shapes and muted colors, no doubt chosen to relax the observer. Too bad it wasn’t working.
“Martin convinced me it was safer for everyone close to me if Taurino’s organization thought I was dead.”
She kept her gaze on the picture. “Naturally you couldn’t tell me, since I’d never be able to keep the secret.”
He released one of her arms, grabbed her chin, and forced her to meet his eyes. “Hardly anyone knew I was alive. We were afraid if you did, it would be nearly impossible for you to avoid somehow giving it away.”
She jerked her head away. “Besides, my grief over your supposed death added credibility to your story.”
He captured her chin again. “I hated upsetting you, but it was better for you to be sad and safe. I was afraid if they even suspected I was alive, they might kidnap you to smoke me out or hurt or kill you to get back at me because I was going to bring them down. How could I endanger you again?”
He was laying it on thick, his eyes their most mesmerizing as he tried to make her believe he’d let her suffer for her own good. He’d had over three months to work on his story, so it should be convincing. But he was ignoring the obvious. “Why aren’t you worried about my safety any more?” she asked.
“The damn trial’s finally over.”
She regarded him skeptically. “How could you testify if everyone still thought you were dead? We’re talking real life here, not Perry Mason.”
“I’d been identified as a confidential informant on the prosecution’s original witness list, and they never amended it after I supposedly died,” Paul said. “Defense counsel was floored when the prosecution called me, but the judge ruled they had no basis to object. It was poetic justice considering the way Taurino screwed us by faking his death. We got guilty verdicts on all counts yesterday.”
“Congratulations.”
Paul’s hands had loosened as he spoke, making it easy for Jillian to shrug them off and stand.
“What are you doing?” He got up beside her.
“I listened, and now I’m leaving.”
“I know you’re upset, and you have a right to be, but you can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because I explained why I didn’t tell you I was alive.”
She started toward the door.
“Then because you love me.”
Her pride wouldn’t let him continue believing that. If it bruised his ego, tough. She gave him the condescending look she’d perfected on male surgeons. “Why would you think that?”
“You told me.”
She crossed her arms again. “I thought I did, but it was one of those captor-hostage things, like you said.”
“You’re not that weak-willed.”
She raised her chin. “So maybe I did love you. I got over it.”
“No, you didn’t. Those tears when you saw me gave you away.”
“I was shocked. Seeing the dead rise has to rank high on the stress index.”
“Why were you going to see my grave if you don’t still love me?”
“As Ryan also should have told you, I’m ready to go on with my life. I was going to say good-bye. So I’ll say it now. Good-bye, Paul.” Jillian resumed walking to the door, delighted that her voice hadn’t wavered, that she hadn’t fallen victim to Paul’s eyes. She reached for the door handle.
“My mother was right. She told me pretending to be dead was indefensible, no matter how good I thought my reasons were. She said she’d never have forgiven me if she weren’t my mother.”
Jillian paused, her hand on the door handle. “Your mother thought you were dead?”
“My whole family did. Until I saw my parents last night.”
She gave him an incredulous look over her shoulder. “You let your parents think you were dead?”
“I told you no one knew I was alive.”
“You said hardly anyone.” She turned back toward him. “I didn’t think that included your family or close friends.”
“The only people who knew were a couple guys in Hawaii, Martin, my guards, and the lead prosecutor. Until the trial, of course, but the courtroom was sealed, and everyone’s still under a gag order.”
She took a step. “Ryan really didn’t know either?”
“Not until yesterday.” Paul shook his head, smiling faintly. “I thought my mother was going to faint when I showed up.”
She took another couple of steps in his direction, stopped, and studied his face. If he hadn’t told his parents or Ryan either—
“Although she was nearly as shocked to hear I’ve decided to quit undercover work and get married,” he said. “Both my parents are thrilled. They think she’s terrific.”
His words sliced her heart. He was getting married. To a woman his parents thought was terrific. That’s why he’d had her brought here, because after everything he felt he should personally tell her.
She chewed her lip as she searched for an appropriate comment. “You obviously didn’t waste the past three months,” was the best she could do.
“I spent a lot of time thinking, which probably did me as much good as the therapy I should have gotten after Helene died,” he said. “You were right, I’ve wasted too much time feeling guilty about her death. I think convincing myself I can never love anyone was my subconscious way of punishing myself for her death, by guaranteeing I’ll never be happy with a woman. But there’s nothing wrong with my ability to love. I just needed the right woman.”
Jillian nodded.
He rested his hand on the back of the sofa. “I also realized I’m burned out doing undercover work. The only reason I’m still doing it is more guilt, this time over having been born so damn rich. I’ll have to absolve that guilt in other ways because I want a normal life, with a wife, a house, and kids I get to see every day.”
“Are you sure that isn’t an over-reaction to your last assignment?” Jillian couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Because of the isolation?”
“More sure than of anything my sixth sense has ever told me.” He smiled, his whole face lighting. “Why the hell would I want to keep risking my life when I have so much to live for?”
He did look happy, and maybe someday she’d be able to be happy for him. Now she needed to leave before she broke down. “I wish and your fiancée the best.” She turned toward the door.
“Actually, things aren’t looking real promising in the fiancée department,” he said. “Since she’s so furious at me she’s heading back to Denver.
”
Jillian’s breath caught. “You’re talking about me?”
“Who else would I be talking about?”
She faced him. “Your parents have never met me. How can they think I’m terrific?”
“From everything Martin, Ryan, and I’ve told them about you.”
That she’d saved his life. “I know you feel you owe me for saving your life. But—”
“Do you honestly think I’m offering to spend the rest of my life with you because I owe you?” He approached her as he spoke. “After one marriage from hell?” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I do not want to marry you because I think you saved my life or because of guilt or even because it will please my parents. I want to marry you because I love you. Which I’ve told you before.”
Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let him do this. “Maybe you honestly think you love me. But that’s simply an emotional response to nearly dying, probably compounded by three more months of isolation. You’ll get over it.”
“Except that’s not when I realized I loved you. It happened that first damn night in Keystone.” He shook his head. “I’d told you a story about Charlie and his run-in with the killer squirrel. We were lying in bed, and you were laughing, and it hit me. I loved you. I told myself that love couldn’t happen that fast, and I couldn’t love anyone, anyway. That I was confusing lust with love.”
“You probably were.”
“Or maybe six months of isolation had clarified what I wanted in a woman, and you were it. That was the reason I arranged to see you the second night, because I loved you too much not to.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “That doesn’t excuse my endangering you, but I had a better reason than wanting more hot sex. And as you pointed out, by approaching you I might have actually saved your life.
“Realizing that helped me forgive myself for the part I played in Kristen’s death and your problems. At least enough that I don’t need to punish myself by torpedoing any chance I’ll be happy.”
He took her hands in his. “You do still love me, don’t you?” For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed uncertain. “Because I love you so damn much. I’ve agreed to keep working for the government, doing analysis and translating work I can do anywhere, so we can live in Denver.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ll even buy you a dog. Hell, I’ll buy you an entire pet store if you want.” His eyes locked on hers. “Will you marry me?”