From the sofa on the other side of the coffee table he seemed to be assessing her, but his strong face and brown eyes were unreadable. She was uncomfortably aware of the gun resting on the table. He'd changed into a navy shirt and blue jeans that accentuated the lean strength in his body and made her think thoughts she hadn't had for ages. She'd been so long without the touch of a man that lately she'd begun to think of herself as almost virginal. At the instant the thought occurred to her she caught his gaze and it was as though a key had clicked into a lock. She had to lower her eyes to hide the sudden excitement she felt in her belly.
Why the questions about boyfriends? Background material? Who did he think he was kidding? He was asking the questions because he was obviously curious about her. Knowing it gave her a sudden quick pleasure. And she got the best of him in the encounter, which added to the thrill.
'You should know how to fire this gun,' he said, pointing to the weapon on the coffee table. 'You might need to use it tonight.'
The thing repelled her. She shook her head.
'You might have no choice. Come over here and I'll show you the basics.'
She had to admit he had a point. When she sat beside him the warmth and closeness of him made her hands tremble. She was afraid that if she held the gun she might drop it.
She hated the coldness of the metal but she listened carefully as he described how to use the gun. She loaded and unloaded the magazine, operated the grip safety switch, and learned how to brace herself to absorb any kickback. Twice his fingers touched hers and the shock was electric.
'Don't wear any loose jewellery tonight,' he said. 'It can cause problems. You're wearing something under your T-shirt.'
She took out the pendant containing the memory stick to show him, and then slid it back beneath the T-shirt. 'Something from my student days,' she said casually. 'I'll take it off later.'
Was she wrong to hide its contents from him? Maybe, but it was safer for both of them for the moment that no one apart from herself knew what the pendant contained. The same applied to the second stick concealed in her make-up kit. The code copies were too crucial for her security.
She made the mistake of turning to him as she spoke and found she was unable to escape his copper brown eyes. Maybe it was the lie she'd just told, or maybe it was so long since she'd been so physically close to a man, but she suddenly felt weakened and off guard. Instinctively he seemed to recognise what she knew her eyes were saying.
He leaned over and kissed her, slowly and softly. She made no attempt to resist. To do so would have required some form of conscious decision making, which she was now incapable of. Her subconscious mind was screaming with a warning siren but the sound faded quickly, overcome by the swirling images behind her closed eyes and the feel of his muscled body as she pressed against his chest. His kiss became more demanding and its urgency increased her pleasure, confirming his own lack of control.
She was amazed at her hunger for his body and the frantic audacity in her search for the athletic ridges beneath his shirt. Did he find her behaviour shocking? She could hardly believe it herself. She said something, or thought she did, but the words were lost behind the force of his lips in yet another searching kiss. It was more than his physicality that was drawing her on, it was a growing acceptance that here was a man who was willing to help her and had made a promise to do so. She would give herself willingly if that was what he wanted, and the warmth of his hands as they began to slowly explore the length of her thighs showed there was no doubt of that.
The sound of a dull thud behind the sofa startled her and she drew back with shock. Dust and shreds of material sprayed into the air only centimetres behind Alex's head.
She turned, confused and frightened, a scream on her lips. A man in a dark suit emerged from the shadows of the front hall, walking fast toward them, stiff-legged like a robot, arm extended, a gun in his hand. A blond man with red-rimmed glasses. Tursunov!
She heard Alex's voice, loud in her ear.
'Get down!'
He pushed her to the floor and she sprawled lengthways. From the corner of her eye she saw him start for the gun on the coffee table, then pull back at the sound of a second thud. A spray of dust spurted from the wall behind him. He signalled her calmly to stay down, then crawled to a position behind another sofa approaching the doorway of the billiards room.
She watched Tursunov come to a halt a few strides past the lounge entrance, about twenty metres away, his eyes searching cautiously for movement. His cold gaze found her and she shrank back in fear.
'Stay still and shut up, woman,' he said. 'I want the lying journalist, not you. Where is your lying boyfriend hiding?'
CHAPTER 7
Alex crouched behind a sofa a few metres from the door leading into the billiards room. He couldn't go forward or backward, only sideways. The billiards room was the only avenue of escape. Beyond it was a covered patio area that surrounded a swimming pool, and beyond that was the old coach house that ran along the southern boundary of the property. It contained several of his father's favourite vintage vehicles and a decades-old collection of gardening implements and tools. Some of them might be useful as weapons but none could mount a serious defence against the silenced Glock pistol that the Russian was carrying. A company helicopter normally parked on the helipad beside the coach house was on duty elsewhere and would have been a useless escape option anyway.
If he could draw Tursunov outside, Ada would be quick to use the landline in the studio to call the police. He didn't want to bring them into the picture right now, but the truth was he had zero choice in the matter. Outside he could circle around the house and use his knowledge of childhood hiding places to avoid the Russian. If he could return inside the house, he and Ada could barricade themselves in one of the upper floor bedrooms until the police arrived. It was a thin plan, but all that he could come up with.
What he needed was his father's old Colt on the coffee table, but that was way out of reach. All he had to depend on were his legs. When he made his move he had to move fast.
To his right against the wall, only an arm's length away, was a vase stand holding several pieces of Chinese porcelain, heavy enough to cause some damage but light enough to throw. Expensive missiles, but no other weapon of any kind was available. They might be enough to distract and surprise the Russian and allow a few seconds to reach the billiards room.
He glanced back at Ada. She was flat on the floor, her eyes turned away from him so as to mislead Tursunov if he happened to be watching her. Smart girl. He guessed she'd figured out his only logical move and was waiting for him to act. In moments the Russian would throw away his caution and advance.
Alex reached out and selected two blue-toned vases with long necks that he could grip and swing like bowling pins. He had to take a chance and assume that Tursunov was still near the lounge entrance. If he was wrong he would miss his target and get a bullet for his troubles. But if he lifted his head to check he would reveal his own exact position. He rose to a crouch, grasped the two vases by their necks and raised them to shoulder height for maximum leverage. He breathed deeply, then leapt to his feet and hurled the vases in one fluid movement toward the Russian.
He didn't wait to see the result. As the vessels left his hands he dived behind the sofa, scrambled across three metres of open space and somersaulted through the doorway into the billiards room. On the way through he heard a thump as a bullet struck the doorjamb a second or two later than he expected. One or both of the vases had done their job in surprising Tursunov and delaying his response.
Alex sprang to his feet and rushed to the cue rack standing in the corner of the room. He grabbed a bundle of cue sticks and threw them across the doorway entrance, snatched one stick as a weapon and sprinted through the opposite exit to the outside patio.
He pressed himself flat against the outside wall beside the exit and held the cue stick by the tapered end like a baseball bat. He could hear curses from the far side of the bi
lliards room as Tursunov stumbled across the jumble of cue sticks in the doorway. Then he heard hurried footsteps approaching the exit. He lifted the stick high and waited. The Russian rushed through the exit and then halted clumsily, unable to stop.
Alex swung the cue stick powerfully in a wide arc and struck Tursunov in the face. The Russian dropped his gun and raised his hands to his nose, grunting loudly with pain. Alex kicked the Glock and watched it skid almost to the edge of the swimming pool about ten metres off. Tursunov was quick to recover, grabbing desperately at Alex's throat. They grappled wildly and Alex swung and dragged the other man toward the pool. If he could push the Russian in and retrieve the gun he would be in the commanding position.
But Tursunov was stronger than he looked. He fought back ferociously as they neared the pool edge, straining to reach the gun. Alex slipped on the tiles and watched helplessly as the other man snatched at the weapon. He lunged forward and toppled Tursunov into the pool, following him in. As the water closed over his head he caught a glimpse of the gun in the Russian's hand. For one crazy instant an image of Ada's face when he'd bent to kiss her flashed in front of him. Adrenaline? Fear?
Beneath the surface he grabbed and snatched at Tursunov's jacket from behind and swung him around wildly, throwing his arm around Tursunov's neck and reaching in desperation for the gun. In the struggle and panic the Russian fired the weapon and Alex watched as a long trail of bubbles spun a path to the bottom of the pool.
He drew back his fist and punched hard into Tursunov's side time and time again until the gun dropped from the Russian's hand and he went for the surface, out of breath. Alex watched the gun settle on the concrete bottom but was too exhausted to go after it. When he surfaced Tursunov had hauled himself onto the edge of the pool and appeared to be heading toward a set of steps that led around the side of the house. Suddenly he stopped and picked up a fist-sized rock from the garden at the patio edge. He turned and began to trot unsteadily back toward Alex, the rock held above his head in one last attempt at victory.
Alex heard a shot echo across the water. Tursunov stopped, dropped the rock and clutched at his upper right arm with a look of shock on his face. He turned and glanced quickly toward the patio exit, then bent low and rushed toward the set of steps near the corner of the building, heading for the front of the house and escape.
Alex stared at the patio exit. Ada was standing, her back braced against the wall holding the Colt pistol in both hands. He crossed to her quickly and saw that she was shivering. He put one arm around her and prised the gun from her fingers.
'For someone who hates guns you did a pretty good job of handling this one,' he said.
'I wanted to help you.'
'I know,' he said. He hugged her against him, then sat her down in a deck chair. She'd taken a huge risk. 'I've got to check and see that he's gone.'
'Don't follow him,' she said. 'Twist might be waiting among the trees out front.'
'If he is, he knows now that I've got a gun. I'm betting Tursunov came alone.'
Alex cautiously followed the line of the house around to the front garden. On a side path he saw a patch of blood, but no sign of the Russian. He was probably now long gone. The front gates were closed, which meant that to gain entry, Tursunov had scaled the wall at its low point in the far corner. Even with a wounded arm he would have been able to escape the same way to a vehicle outside. How he got through the front door was yet to be determined. Had he acted alone or with Zina's blessing?
He went back to the patio. Ada was standing and seemed to have recovered her composure. He put his arm around her.
'He's gone,' Alex said. 'Now we know what we're up against. Why does Zina want me dead? It doesn't make sense. Too many people know about what's happening: my father, Tony, my editor Pete. She can't wipe us all out.'
'It's her logical mind. She wants to eliminate unnecessary complications. She wants clear access to me. I think she still feels she can win me back to her side. That's never going to happen. I'm beginning to think she's...'
'Insane?'
Ada shook her head wearily. 'I don't know. I just keep hoping she'll stop all this craziness.'
Alex guided her back inside to the damaged sofa. He placed the Colt on the coffee table, then found a blanket in her bedroom and wrapped it around her. He poured two brandies from the small bar outside the kitchen and handed her one.
'I don't drink,' she said quietly.
'Just a sip or two,' he said, sitting down beside her. 'It'll warm you inside.' He kissed her on the cheek. 'I've got to change out of these wet clothes.'
He went upstairs to his bedroom and changed quickly into fresh jeans, black shirt and trainers.
Downstairs, Ada was sitting calmly and sipping her drink. He sat beside her and held her close.
'You've got guts,' he said. 'You could have been killed if he'd got out of the pool with his gun.'
'He didn't want me. He wanted you. That must have been Zina's order. I still can't believe the way she's behaving. She was behind this.'
'Maybe. But if he'd seen you armed he would have taken a shot at you, whatever Zina's orders. He's obviously crazy enough. To come into a house and start shooting at people might be the way to operate in some Eastern European war zone, but not here.'
'Would the neighbours have heard the shot?'
'Unlikely. The house is on high ground, with high walls. Sound doesn't travel far.'
She leaned against him and sipped the brandy.
'Don't take a risk on your own like that again,' he said. 'But I probably owe you my life.'
He kissed her lightly once more. Now that he'd acknowledged to himself how he felt about her, his concern was even more acute that because he was a target, Ada was in danger of being caught in the crossfire. Maybe Zina really had ordered her henchmen to avoid injuring Ada, but that didn't mean she was immune from bullets meant for someone else.
The real puzzle was within himself. Why had he kissed her and let things happen the way they did? Tiredness was a weak excuse. The truth was that despite the warning bells from his past he'd been waiting for the chance to touch her, to try to unravel the mystery of her and the way she'd been affecting him. Had it been a moment of weakness for them both? He couldn't believe that. They'd simply given in to an emotion beneath the surface that had been there since they'd faced each other on that mountain road this morning. They'd both resisted that emotion, but resistance had proved futile. There was no point in trying to fight it. Acceptance, he was finding to his surprise, had cleared his mind.
'I didn't call the police,' she said. 'My first thought was to help you. Should we call them now?'
He shook his head. 'Too risky for your grandfather. We've got to take Zina's threats very seriously. She was clear about what might happen if we called in the police. It's even clearer now. Calling the police would complicate everything. We're on our own, but you've disabled an important member of Zina's team and that's got to be a positive.'
'How did he get into the house? You said this place was secure.'
'He climbed over the front wall to get onto the property. He got into the house because Tony didn't lock the front door when he left earlier. I'll give him hell for this.'
'Don't blame him,' Ada said. 'He left in a hurry, on your instructions. Anyway, you don't know that he forgot. Check the door. Maybe Tursunov broke the security. He's an engineer.'
Alex went out through the lounge and returned in a few minutes. He sat down again beside Ada.
'You're right. The control panel cover is missing. Tursunov used something to shut down the alarm and unlock the door. I guess I should apologise to Tony in his absence for blaming him.'
'So you should.'
'And I apologise to you. I promised you safety and I didn't deliver.'
Alex held her close. He'd finally found someone worth protecting and then he'd almost lost her at the same time. He had to stay sharp. Now he had someone else to fight for.
Ada sipped her brandy.
It tasted better than she thought but it made her sleepy. She leaned against Alex for support. Everything that had happened in the last hour was almost too much to take in. First the intimacy with the man beside her that had taken her so much by surprise, and then the attack that had so terrified her. And shooting a gun and wounding a man? Where had that come from? If anyone had told her yesterday that today would be filled with such events she would have laughed at them.
With Alex, why had she dropped all the defences she'd taken so long to acquire, and why so suddenly? She wasn't sure where the attraction was heading. Her head and her body were in combat. She felt less mentally disciplined, and the sudden change in her life had disturbed her.
Did it happen because they'd been thrown together by circumstances? No. Their meeting was the logical result of their positions at this point in time and space. And what else was that but fate, a concept she'd had trouble accepting in the past. Now she wasn't so sure.
She had to face it. She was now involved in a relationship and the prospect had upset her. When her present troubles were over, the relationship would either dissolve or strengthen. Sitting here now she knew which outcome she wanted. What would come after? Why try to predict the future? What happened, happened. All she could do now was try to guide events along the path she knew she wanted to follow.
As for the violence she'd committed, she felt strangely calm. Her actions there seemed a natural, spontaneous attempt to protect someone she cared for. Cared for? Wasn't it more than that? Love? It was too early to say, but all she knew was that she would risk her life again in the same way if needed.
Her life had become the life of another woman entirely, a stranger she'd never known. She was confused. The brandy was thickening her thought processes. She put it down and closed her eyes. She had to pause. Things were moving too fast.
She jumped at the sharp sound of footsteps in the entrance hall. Alex sprang to his feet, then sat down again.
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