Heart of a Hero

by Sara Craven

  He thumped the back of the divan near her shoulder. “What if I told you it was you who connected.”

  Her? Laughter welled up inside her and spilled out. Hysterical, unstoppable and totally inappropriate as it was, she couldn’t stop it. She almost hoped he would slap her so she would stop, but he didn’t.

  Mercier let her laugh until she collapsed back against the divan with scotch spilled all over her lap and tears running down her face.

  “Okay, now that you’ve got that out of your system…” He took the glass from her hand and set it aside. “Are you ready?”

  Dawn sat up straight, wiped her face with her palms and composed herself.

  “One of the bidders, a Russian, was under guard upstairs in one of the bedrooms,” she told Mercier. She took another sip of the scotch and grimaced. “The one who brought all these guys to the party was locked in the kitchen basement. His men set him free, I’m sure.”

  “They’ll be rounded up, don’t worry,” Mercier assured her. “No one’s getting off this island without my say-so, depend on it.”

  She knew he meant her, as well as the perps involved.

  She allowed herself one last glance out the window, sending a brief, silent and fervent prayer winging after the helicopter that had long disappeared. It was all she could do for Eric now. That, and finish what they had begun together. He would demand that of her and be right to do so.

  She nodded succinctly and met Mercier’s gaze with a steady one free of tears. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 17

  Eric railed against the tests that kept him isolated at the unnamed medical facility in the Poconos. Mercier had ordered him flown here directly after emergency surgery in Athens.

  “For the hundredth time, I tell you I can’t do it,” he almost shouted. God, he was weary of making the attempts. “I don’t want to do it. I’m sick of doing it, okay?”

  “Not okay,” Dr. Blumfeld declared. “This should be elementary for you, Eric. It’s a simple guessing game. The subject in the other room is thinking one of these things,” he said, pushing the large cards with pictures closer to Eric’s side of the table. “You could do this with one hundred percent accuracy when you were five years old.”

  “And now I can’t,” Eric informed him yet again. “Call Mercier again. I want out of here. If he wants to fire me, fine, but I need to leave.”

  “You want to go and see that woman, don’t you? But she’s the one who did this, Eric. She took one of your senses from you. If she had blinded or deafened you, how would you feel then? This is even worse. Don’t you understand that?”

  Eric stood, trying not to kick his chair backward in a fit of fury. If he acted crazy, they just might throw a straight-jacket on him and put him somewhere even more secure. He forced a sigh. “I need to sleep for a while. My shoulder hurts like the devil. Hey, maybe that’s interfering,” he suggested, sounding quite reasonable, he thought. “The pain, you know.” He rubbed the scar gently. It did still ache a little.

  “Of course,” the doctor said. “We’ll try again tomorrow morning when you’re more alert.”

  Sure they would, Eric thought, hiding his scowl. Damn the whole bunch of them. He was getting the hell out as soon as he could find a way. The trouble was, they expected him to try and were covering all possible exits. They wouldn’t shoot him, of course. He was too valuable a subject for that. But they would restrain him.

  Obviously Jack didn’t realize the obsession these people had for ferreting out the intricacies of gifts like Eric’s or he would never have sent Eric here for evaluation. Or perhaps he did. Maybe Dawn wasn’t the only one who’d been betrayed by a superior.

  The staff here were agents, too; even the docs were trained and badged. They weren’t bad people, only overly dedicated. All the agencies had reps present while the research went on. They’d been at it too long. Eric had been brought here time and again since he was a child, giving them more data and answers to their questions than most of their subjects did. Funny how he had never minded before.

  Now all he could think of was leaving, forgetting all this, finding Dawn and thanking her for putting his life in better perspective.

  Well, he hoped to do more than thank her, he thought with an inner smile.

  He entered his room, a pleasant place even if it was a bit clinical. They had attempted to make him as comfortable as possible so he would be content and perform. Like hell.

  The window was barred. There were four locked, guarded doors between him and the outside of the building. A high wall topped with concertina wire surrounded the property. For his protection against enemy agents who might come looking for him, so Dr. Blumfeld had said in a hushed voice. Did they think he was still five?

  “Psssst!”

  Eric looked around. His door was closed.

  “Psssst! Here!”

  He leaned back and looked up, astounded. “Dawn?”

  “Get me a screwdriver,” she whispered. “A flat-head. Mine broke.”

  He laughed, not bothering to lower his voice. “Where the hell would I get a screwdriver? They won’t even let me have a dinner knife in this place. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to bust you out. Or would you rather stay?”

  “This is not a sanctioned insertion, I take it?”

  “Are you kidding? Get me a damn screwdriver or neither one of us is going anywhere, and I don’t plan to live in this freakin’ maze of heating vents the rest of my life, okay?”

  “Okay, hang on.” He looked around the room for something that might do. “Ah, here we go.” He lifted the thick folder Dr. Blumfeld had furnished of all Eric’s former test results. Doc had let him read it to give him his confidence back. The pages were punched and held together with a flat metal clip and slide. He carefully removed it and tucked it up through the white painted vent.

  He had tried the vents before, but they were securely screwed down from the inside where he couldn’t get to them. Bless her heart, she had come for him. Wonders would never cease where that woman was concerned.

  “How’s your wound? Healed?”

  “Fine,” he answered.

  “Clay’s okay, too. I saw him last week. He told me where you were.”

  “Good man.” Eric couldn’t see Dawn through the slanted slots, but he could hear her shuffling around, grunting a curse now and then. “I hope you’re quieter than this when you’re really working,” he said, unable to resist teasing her.

  “Oh, shut up and push up on this thing, will you? Do I have to do everything?”

  “Wind up one little mission by yourself and it goes straight to your head! How’d that turn out, by the way?” He bumped the vent with the heels of his hands and it popped out.

  She peered down at him, grinning, her face streaked with dirt. “Good guys won, of course. Clay’s recovering nicely and getting lots of TLC from your buds at Sextant. George is facing a conspiracy charge, but he’s trying to cut some kind of deal by furnishing some of his brother’s contacts. Sean was scamming George about being his son, just like we figured.”

  “I’m glad for George’s sake.”

  “Yeah, he was, too. The radar info was on the flash drive I found in that drawer, by the way. It’s now secure. Boris is on his way back to the Russian authorities and Ali bought it in the firefight along with most of his troops. The rest are in Uncle Sam’s custody. Nothing left for you to do, Sport, but play Houdini and disappear from here.”

  She stuck out her hand and beckoned. “You coming or what?”

  “Is Aristophanes Greek?” He dragged the desk chair over and climbed up on it, willing to follow her anywhere, the same way she had once followed him.

  Moments later, she was leading him through the vents at a fast crawl. She hadn’t paused to kiss him hello. Or tell him why she had come to his rescue. If discovered, her career would be over. His probably was anyway, since he’d lost the skill that made him valuable to Sextant.

  Eric didn’t care about that. Wh
at he had found was so much more than he’d ever had before. Dawn.

  She had made him a normal person. Somehow, she had banished his enormous burden of carrying the dark secrets of others, of sometimes inadvertently invading the private thoughts of friends. His mind was his own now, the peace and quiet a blessed relief he had never expected and treasured above anything. Except Dawn.

  “Did I ever tell you I love you, Moon?” he asked, huffing with exertion after six weeks of virtual inertia. He hurt, and the pain was exquisite.

  “Not in so many words,” she answered, still crawling forward. “Pick up the pace, will you? We don’t have all day.”

  “How do we get over the wall unnoticed?”

  “Leave it to me,” she ordered. “We’re coming up on the laundry area behind the kitchen. Just trust me and do what I do.”

  Trust her? She had placed her trust in him when trust should have been impossible for her. How could he do any less?

  A moment later when she dived through a hole in the ceiling, he had to question blind trust. Then he shoved forward and dropped headfirst, just as she had done.

  He felt around. They landed in a bin of warm, recently dried bed linens ready for the morning pressing. The room was dark as pitch and smelled of detergent and bleach. Dawn lay beside him, but she wasn’t moving.

  When he ran his hands over her to see if she was all right, her hand grasped his neck and drew him closer. “We wait right here,” she whispered. He watched her press the dial of her watch, which glowed green for a second. “For at least half an hour,” she continued. “The workers in the next room will be leaving in precisely ten minutes, but we’d better stay put until we’re sure the area’s clear. Then we make our exit.”

  “Over the wall?” he asked, tracing her face with his fingers, dying to kiss her.

  “Are you crazy? We change into whites like theirs and go out the service entrance.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know your plans? What do you take me for, a mind reader?”

  She pinched his cheek. Right through his jogging pants. “Don’t get cute. I know you were telling the truth about that.”

  He pinched her back with both hands while pulling her flush against him and loving every subtle squirm she made. “A believer, are you?”

  “I found the ring, right where you said it would be, stuck in the drain of the pool where I used to swim.”

  “So I can find things. That’s not mind reading, Dawn. I can’t do that any longer.”

  “Because of me?” she asked, sounding contrite. And a little defensive, he thought. “Clay said so, too.”

  “No, because I don’t want to anymore,” he answered truthfully.

  Maybe Dawn hadn’t been the primary cause of that loss, but only his motivation to ditch it. What did it matter? All he wanted, he had in his arms right now.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “Yeah? Want to do a little research in that area?” he asked, nipping at her neck. She tasted salty, a little dusty and pretty wonderful. “Tell me and let’s see if you’re on the money.”

  “You’re thinking you’d like us to work a little late in the wash room, right?”

  “God, Moon, you’re good!”

  “Damn straight I am.” She kissed him soundly on the mouth. “You want to take me away from all this, keep me safe and make a wife out of me, that’s what you’re thinking now.”

  “Got it in one.” He kissed her back until he had to come up for air.

  “I’m not going to let you. You know that, don’t you?” Her hands began to wander, driving every thought from his head except where they were going.

  He reached for the hem of her shirt and began to lift it. “Okay, all but the wife part. Gotta insist on that.”

  “Fair compromise, I guess,” she said, breathless. “Helluva proposal, Vinland.”

  Eric framed her face with his hands and wished with all his heart that he could see her right now, dirty face, wild red hair and all. “Hey, I don’t mess around when it comes to romance. Privacy, a little sweet talk, total commitment, the works.”

  “Not to mention clean sheets,” she added. “What more could a girl ask for?”

  Epilogue

  McLean, Virginia

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Dawn thought she had never heard more beautiful words in her life. She felt beautiful, dressed in ivory satin, hair red as before and gaining back its natural curl.

  She couldn’t say that her personality had changed all that much in the three months since their big adventure when she’d reverted to her former appearance. As she had informed Eric last night, she retained entirely too much of Aurora’s meekness. He had laughed out loud.

  But now, right now, Eric was kissing her more sweetly than ever, restraining the passion that usually raged between them every time they came together. Anyone watching the ceremony might think they were pretty conservative lovers, she guessed. Ha.

  Eric led her down the aisle of St. John’s chapel, beaming as if his dreams had all come true. Dawn knew that hers had. What a golden treasure he was in any guise he chose! So what if she couldn’t figure him out. She’d just keep him guessing, too. He had risked everything for her, just as she had for him. Love was the ultimate risk, but she was taking it gladly.

  Eric’s parents didn’t seem to know what to make of her, but then they didn’t seem to know what to make of Eric, either.

  They were a handsome couple, a bit older than she had expected and obviously uptight, which she had expected. Eric had said he didn’t mind, that he loved them anyway. Dawn knew she would embrace them, too, whether they were comfortable with that or not.

  She wondered if they knew him at all. He’d said he had spent more time in research facilities while growing up than he had at home. His grandmother had been the only one to offer much love and understanding after he began to exhibit his psychic gifts.

  Well, he wouldn’t lack for love and understanding from now on, she silently promised him.

  Later, at the reception in the church’s social hall, Jack Mercier, his wife Solange, Holly and Will Griffin, Joe and Martine Corda and Clay Senate were congregated at one of the tables. The Sextant team and spouses, Eric’s work family. He danced her over to join them.

  “Congratulations, you two,” Jack said as he rose and kissed Dawn lightly on the cheek. “When can we expect him back at work, Mrs. Vinland?”

  She noticed Eric’s smile falter a little. He had misjudged Mercier’s intentions in sending him to the clinic in the Poconos. No one had any idea they would treat Eric the way they had.

  He had also been mistaken about Jack’s hiring him for the Sextant team only because of his ability to read minds. He’d been right about the loss. He couldn’t do that anymore and seemed relieved about it. However, he still had other psychic tricks up his sleeve, like locating missing objects and people. Besides, his normal abilities as an agent far outweighed even those psychic tools.

  The caring that his fellow agents had shown when he came home had humbled him as much as a guy like Eric could be humbled. She grinned at him just because he was who he was. Hers, with all his quirks.

  “You can have him in three weeks, not a day sooner,” Dawn told his boss, accepting a kiss from the rather stoic Clay Senate as she spoke. He offered her a rare smile. She felt a special affinity for the man who had shared the most dangerous day of her life, so she kissed him back. That earned her a comical frown from her new husband and laughter from the others.

  “Eric says he needs to show me Greece the way it should be seen. No bullets, no bad guys, no secret plans hidden in my Wonderbra.” She patted her bodice and made a face. George had been wrong. All along, the radar info had been on the flash drive she’d found and was now safely back where it belonged.

  Eric slid his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Nope, no derring-do on this trip. Just sea
, sand and…sightseeing.” He hesitated a full second before the last word and it came out in a flat tone unlike the others.

  “Well, I should hope so. Jack says the mission was an unqualified success,” Solange said. “How fortunate that it brought you two together. Jack and I met on a mission, too. So did Joe and Martine.”

  “I’ll be forever grateful we did, too. But I never want to participate in one like it again!” It was enough that Eric had agreed she should continue her work at NSA. She was suited for that, and he would continue to work for Sextant.

  “Time to go,” Eric reminded her, pointing at his watch and tugging on her elbow. “We fly in two hours.”

  “Cutting it close,” Jack said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Have a great honeymoon, you two.”

  Eric nodded his thanks to each of them, looking very serious.

  “Are you all right?” Dawn asked him as soon as they got into the limousine. He didn’t seem his usual happy-go-lucky self, certainly not the beaming bridegroom he’d been earlier. He had changed while they were talking to the team. “What’s wrong?”

  “I felt something,” he told her. “Back there, when I touched you, put my hands on your waist. For a minute there, I sensed…something. Rapid, like a heartbeat, but too fast. Way too fast.” He bit his lips together, then turned to her and grinned. “For an adult, it was too fast. Hey, I know it’s probably too soon to tell for sure, but, do you think…?”

  Dawn gasped, meeting his gaze with wonder. “Wow, Vinland, you’re amazing! You just might have located something a lot more precious than my grandmother’s ring!”

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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