Perilous Trust

by Barbara Freethy

  "He should have asked for help," she said. "He should have told me about the money. I could have dropped out of school. I could have helped him. And if didn't want to tell me because he was ashamed, he should have asked for help from one of his friends. I don't understand why he couldn't find a way out."

  Peter stared back at her. "I think Alan was working on a way out. He was trying to play both sides without getting caught by either."

  "He said something like that in his voicemail. He said he was trying to put things right, that there still might be a way out. Maybe he was using Wyatt to build a case against them all, but they figured it out." She turned to Wyatt. "Elena told me that my dad wouldn't take you out. That's why they killed him. I know he was using you, and you probably can't forgive him, but I'm glad he didn't cross that line."

  "I am, too," Wyatt said. "But he must have found out that someone else at the FBI stepped in and tried to make it happen without him. That's why he ran."

  "And why he told you not to trust anyone, Sophie," Damon interjected. "He wasn't sure who else at the FBI was involved. He might have thought they'd already gotten to Peter and to Karen."

  "I did tell him that I'd found some discrepancies in his cases," Peter said. "I asked him to sit down with me. I don't know if he believed I was going to pressure him to do what the Belenkos wanted, or if I was going to turn him in. But we never had that meeting."

  "We'll probably never know everything," she said with a tired sigh. "But I have a pretty good idea now of what happened."

  "You just need to remember that your dad loved you, Sophie," Damon said, as Peter and Wyatt moved away.

  "I know that," she said, looking into his compassionate eyes. "And my dad loved my mom, too. He was willing to do anything to save her life. It doesn't negate what he did, but it makes it easier for me to understand." She let out a breath. "I am surprised Michael killed himself instead of running away. On the other hand, he was able to take his secrets to his grave. He protected his family, his daughter, his son, even in his death. We can't get evidence out of him now. He won't have to turn against them."

  "Actually, I don't think Michael was trying to protect anyone," Wyatt interrupted, waving them over to the desk. "Looks like Brennan left us everything we need to take down the Belenkos. He couldn't do it himself, but with all this, we can."

  "Really?" she asked, walking over to the desk.

  "Michael wrote the whole story down—everything," Wyatt said in amazement, skimming through a handwritten letter. "It's all here. Names, contact information, bank accounts…and not just on the Belenkos, the Venturis, too. We're going to be able to take down both families." He handed Peter the letter.

  "Damn," Peter said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Maybe he was a coward to take his life, but at least he left something good behind. I need to get a team in here as soon as possible."

  "I'll help," Wyatt told Peter. "I'm going to personally make sure that no leads get dropped. There's likely still a hit on my head. I want all the players in jail."

  "I'm in, too," Damon said. "Whatever I can do."

  "No," Peter said, shaking his head. "Take Sophie home, Damon. Get some food, some rest, and then when you're ready, you can dive in." He paused, glancing at Wyatt. "You should do the same."

  "No way, I'm good," Wyatt said, already reading through papers. "I think this information, combined with what we found at Alan's safe house in Brooklyn, will be a good start to making some arrests, and I'd like those to happen as soon as possible."

  "Will tonight be soon enough?" Peter asked, as he pulled out his phone.

  "That will be perfect," Wyatt said.

  Damon turned to her. "Ready to go home?"

  "If you want to stay—"

  "Actually, I could use a break," he said. "I think we can leave this to Peter and Wyatt for tonight."

  She was happy to hear that. As much as she wanted to know everything, her brain was already spinning from information overload, and a time-out was much needed. "Then let's go."

  * * *

  Taking Sophie home had been his first thought, but Damon got a better one a few miles down the road. "Change in plans," he said to the driver. "Take us to The Plaza."

  Sophie raised a brow. "I thought we were going to my apartment."

  "Your apartment was ransacked. I'm not sure what it looks like."

  "Oh, I forgot about that," she said with a sigh.

  "I don't think you need to deal with that tonight. I'd take you to my place, but the air conditioning isn't working, and you know how I feel about heat."

  She smiled. "I do. So, it's The Plaza? Kind of fancy."

  "We'll get the best room they have—my treat."

  "It should be my treat. I still have a few hundred dollars in cash."

  "And I have a credit card."

  "Well, I have one of those, too. It's going to be weird to be able to use it again. Is this really over, Damon? I know Elena and Michael are dead, and Karen is in the hospital, but there are still other dangerous players out there."

  "They'll be busy covering their asses. They won't be looking for us anymore." He paused. "It's going to take a little time for you to feel back to normal. Re-entry is never easy."

  She cocked her head to the right, giving him a thoughtful look. "You've done it before?"

  "Twice, but I was never undercover that long. One job was four days, another was two months, but it still felt strange to be operating under my own name again."

  "It will be nice not to have to look over my shoulder every second, but I'm not there yet."

  He nodded, seeing the tense lines around her eyes. "You'll get there." He wrapped his fingers around her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You were amazing today—in every possible way."

  "I was terrified for most of it."

  "You have so much courage, Sophie. Your father would be more than proud." He almost regretted bringing up Alan's name when he saw the shadows enter her eyes. "Sorry, maybe we should put a moratorium on discussing your father and his actions for a few hours."

  "It's fine. Even if we don't talk about it, it's there. I just have to work through it all."

  "You will."

  He looked out the window as they made their way through the city. He couldn't believe he'd only arrived a few weeks ago. So much had happened. And there was still so much up in the air.

  "You're thinking about what's next, aren't you?" she asked. "You came to New York to work for my dad, to be part of his team, but I'm sure the team is going to undergo some massive scrutiny and reorganization."

  "To say the least. I'm sure I'll be going through many interrogations myself."

  "Do you think we're going to get in trouble for stealing that car?"

  He smiled at the question. "That's probably the last thing we'll get in trouble for. But, no, it's going to be fine. The Bureau will take care of all that now that they understand we were operating on the right side of the law."

  "I hope so. I am glad that Peter wasn't guilty, too. I thought he was a good guy, and it's nice to know I wasn't wrong about him. Not that I was right about much else."

  Sophie had definitely lost some of her innocence this week, but she would bounce back. Deep inside, she just couldn't help wanting to believe in the good in people. It might take her a while to recover from the evil she'd witnessed this week, but she would find a way.

  "Do you think you'll stay in New York?" she asked.

  "I haven't thought that far ahead." Right now, he couldn't imagine leaving Sophie's side, much less the city she lived in. "We'll see how things go, what arrests are made, what kind of indictments go down, how Peter wants to reorganize the team, whether I'll be a good fit there."

  "You already have friends there—Wyatt and Bree. I assume Wyatt won't go back undercover."

  "No, not in this city at any rate. I have no idea what his plan will be. Bree seems to like her job. She doesn't work on organized crime. She finds missing kids. That's her passion. She only got involved in this to
help me and Wyatt."

  "She finds missing kids? That's a wonderful endeavor."

  "She's good at it, too. But it can be heartbreaking."

  "I can't even imagine."

  "Don't even try. You've dealt with enough evil for one day."

  "I really have. And I feel so amped up. I'm tired and wired. I don't know if I should sleep or run five miles."

  "How about something in between?" he asked, as he put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  "This feels nice," she murmured.

  "It really does."

  She raised her head. "Do you think we should have gone back to Brooklyn? We did leave some things there," she said cryptically, obviously not wanting to mention the money in front of their driver.

  "Wyatt told me as we were leaving that he'd go back there and collect everything of importance."

  "Who will take charge of the suitcase and its contents?"

  "I have no idea. I'm sure it will be locked away as evidence for a good long time, but you might be able to make a pitch for it."

  "I don't want what's in that suitcase," she said with a shake of her head. "If anything, I'd give it away to someone who really needs it, maybe someone with a serious illness, whose insurance doesn't cover everything."

  He saw the moisture gather in her eyes and realized her adrenaline rush was probably starting to crash. "That's a good idea."

  The cab pulled up in front of The Plaza. He paid the driver and led Sophie into the hotel. They were able to get a luxury suite on the top floor for an outrageous amount of money, but he didn't care. He wanted to take care of Sophie tonight. He wanted her to feel the beauty in the world instead of all the ugliness.

  When they got into their room, her look of amazement filled him with pleasure.

  "This is spectacular, Damon," she said, wandering around the suite, examining the plush sofas and chairs, the view of the city from their twenty-second floor windows, the fully-stocked kitchen with a bowl of fruit on the counter and a refrigerator filled with drinks.

  He followed her into the bedroom, the sight of the king-sized bed also making him happy.

  Sophie wandered into the bathroom and then came out again with an even bigger smile on her face. "There's an enormous tub and a shower for two, all the luxuries you could ask for. This must be costing you a freaking fortune, Damon."

  He laughed. "I don't even care. We deserve it."

  She threw her arms around him. "We so deserve it," she said, as pressed her mouth to his.

  Everything else in the world fell away. It felt like forever since he'd last kissed her.

  He pulled her tight against him, wanting to feel every inch of her body—from her silky hair, to her soft skin, sensitive breasts, curvy hips, hot center, and her smooth, sexy legs that wrapped around his in the most perfect way.

  He wanted to take her to bed and never let her up. But it wasn't just sex he wanted, it was everything else. He wanted to spend the rest of his life talking to her, laughing with her, sharing their lives.

  He'd told himself and her that he didn't do love…but this sure felt a lot like it.

  He'd put steel bars around his heart a long time ago, wanting to protect himself from more pain. But Sophie was his kryptonite—in a good way. He didn't want to live in a cold, lonely fortress; he wanted to live with her.

  She pulled away, and disappointment ran through him. He missed her already.

  But then she smiled and grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

  His mouth watered at the sight of her luscious breasts peeking out of her lacy bra. His body hardened. "Did you say they have everything in the bathroom?"

  "Yes. Second drawer on the left."

  He raised a brow. "You checked?"

  "After I saw this room—absolutely." She took off her bra. "Don't be long."

  He made it into the bedroom and back in record time, stripping off his clothes along the way, more than happy to join a beautiful, naked Sophie in the king-sized bed.

  "This bed is huge. I hope I don't lose you," she teased.

  "Not a chance," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I don't intend to let go of you all night."

  "I'm counting on that," she said, as he made good on his promise.

  * * *

  They'd made love three times, reaching for each other every time they woke up. Now, the sun was pricking at her eyelids, and she was almost afraid to open her eyes. The night had been amazing, but every night with Damon was like that.

  It was the mornings that weren't so great. She didn't want to turn onto her side and see that he was gone, that his side of the bed was empty. She didn't want the night to be over yet.

  He'd told her he was good in the dark, but not so great in the day.

  That wasn't true. He was wonderful everywhere—the best man she'd ever known.

  And now there were tears pricking at her eyelids. She was not going to cry. She was not going to ruin whatever time they had left.

  "Sophie?"

  His husky voice made her heart squeeze tight. "Yes?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

  "Are you awake?"

  "Maybe."

  "How come your eyes are still closed?" he asked, trailing a finger down her bare arm.

  "I'm not sure I'm ready to get up yet." His lips found hers, and she felt an overwhelming rush of love for him. Opening her eyes, she found his face just inches away. "Hi."

  He gave her an intimate smile. "Good morning."

  She licked her lips. "You're still here."

  A gleam of understanding darkened his blue gaze. "So, that was the problem—why you didn't want to open your eyes."

  "You'd think I'd be used to you getting up first, moving on with your day—your life. I know that's where we're headed, Damon. You don't have to tell me differently. It's okay. I get it. You have your life, and I have mine. The danger is over. You don't have to feel badly about leaving. It's all going to be fine."

  "Are you done?" he asked. "Can I talk now?"

  "If you want to."

  "I told you I wasn't good at love, wasn't interested in relationships, didn't believe in soul mates or happily ever after."

  "You did tell me all that," she agreed.

  "Well, I was wrong."

  "You were?" she asked, her heart beating faster.

  "Yes. I am interested in a relationship with you, a long-term, happily-ever-after kind of thing, because you have definitely taken over my heart and my soul."

  Happy shivers ran down her spine. "Really? It's not just the afterglow of amazing sex?"

  He laughed. "I can say it again later if you want, but since I'm planning on having more sex with you, I don't know when there won't be an amazing afterglow." He paused, his gaze turning serious. "But the part about me not being the greatest at love might still be true. I'm going to make mistakes, Sophie. I'm not going to share my feelings enough. I'm probably going to piss you off on a daily basis. But I will try to make you happy, too—that is, if you're interested in giving things a shot."

  "Well, even with that glowing reference, I'm definitely interested." She drew in a breath and let it out. "I don't need you to change, Damon. I just want to love you. I fell for you the first second I saw you. But we weren't ready then. I think we are now."

  "I do, too," he said in a husky voice. "And I don't want to change you, either, Sophie. I want you to have everything you want—your job at NYU, your digs around the world, whatever makes you smile."

  "You make me smile. We can work it out. I love New York, but I could leave if you needed to be somewhere else. It's all negotiable."

  He grinned. "I think I'm going to like negotiating with you." He kissed her again. "But we need to get one thing straight."

  "What's that?"

  "I don't want you to ever be afraid to open your eyes again, Sophie. I might get up before you. I might run out to pick up pancakes, but I will always come back. I will never leave you."

  She nodded. "You're
stuck with me, too."

  "And there's another thing…"

  She frowned, sensing a change in his mood as his gaze darkened. "What else?"

  "I'm feeling a little guilty for rushing you into this big talk when you're in a vulnerable place. You still have a lot to deal with emotionally. We can have this conversation again. I just wanted you to know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

  "I appreciate that. I do have a lot of emotions that I need to work through. But you and me—we're solid. We're good."

  Relief flooded his eyes, and she felt a wave of protectiveness toward him.

  Damon put himself on the line every day, but he never put his heart there. She felt incredibly touched that he'd done that for her.

  "How about some breakfast?" he asked. "I'll order you anything you want."

  "Well, that will be easy, because I want you. We'll get food later."

  "Much later," he agreed, as he slid his mouth down her neck and sent her senses spinning again.

  Epilogue

  One month later…

  Sophie taped up the last box in her father's house and pushed it against the wall with the other four boxes that were ready to be moved. The furniture had already been picked up to be sold at consignment. Only the boxes of personal items were left.

  She'd given most of her father's things to charity, but she'd saved photo albums and some family treasures for herself. As a lover of history, she just couldn't bring herself to get rid of everything. Someday, she would tell her children about her mother and her father, and she would pass along a few of their favorite things to the next generation.

  As she looked around the empty room, she felt more relief than sadness. In the past four weeks, she'd finally had time to grieve. She'd even allowed herself a few more tears as she went through her dad's things and read the big book of instructions that she'd always tried to avoid.

  She'd even held a small memorial dinner with a few of her father's closest friends, which had included Harrison Delano, Peter Hunt, Diane Lewis and Senator Raleigh. They'd all claimed complete shock over Michael Brennan's part in everything, and while she didn't know if she completely believed all of them, she was happy that they had come out to pay their respects to her dad. Her father's reputation had been ripped apart in the press, but his longtime friends didn't care about that and neither did she. She'd made her peace with what her father had done. And she still loved him for being a good father, because he'd certainly done his best to be there for her in every way possible.