A cool, elusive scent blended with the soft Hawaiian air.
Recognizable.
I stopped struggling, took a deep breath, and bit down hard on his hand.
"Damn it El. I’m trying not to hurt you."
Two
I spun out of Pierce’s embrace and faced him with every ounce of pissed off redhead I could muster. "You scared the crap out of me. And what the hell are you doing here?"
He rubbed at the fleshy part of his hand, still red from my teeth. "My job," he answered solemnly, then ruined it with a wink.
Nothing like using those Irish blue eyes to disarm my anger. I took a deep breath. "Seriously, you’re in my hotel room." I waved my arms around to point out the obvious.
He nodded. Once. And then grinned. "I noticed. Nice room. I like purple. Brings out the sparkle in the diamond."
"Purple?" I looked down. My bra and panties were on full display in all their damp glory. "Oh, shit." I huffed, spun around and headed to the bathroom for the robe the Ma Kai had so obligingly provided. The thick terry fabric was safe and comfortably concealing. I secured the belt with an extra knot, then ran my fingers through my hair, dividing it into three strands. It would be a disaster if I didn’t tame it into a braid before it dried.
A distant knock sounded, and I gave up on the braid, dug a scrunchie out of my wadded-up jeans, and hurried out of the bathroom.
"Room service," a husky, disembodied voice called through the heavy wood.
That couldn’t be. Pierce had his hand on the doorknob before I could reach him. "I didn’t order room service," I said, motioning him to back away from the door.
He ignored me, shooting a devilish grin over his shoulder. "I did."
Right. Of course he did. I scanned the room, which until a minute ago had been mine. Alone. What the hell was wrong with this picture? I hadn’t picked up any unusual images when I was fighting Pierce. Not that they weren’t there. I had just been too focused on my futile attempt to beat him to a bloody pulp. Now I wished I’d paid attention.
He backed into the room balancing a tray with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a plate of cheese, crackers, and fresh fruit. My stomach growled, and forgiveness was instantaneous. He wouldn’t leave until he’d done whatever he was here to do, so there was no reason to ignore perfectly good food.
I curled into an overstuffed chair, and studied him as he opened and poured the wine. Tynan Pierce had amazing hands. Capable, well shaped, lightly tanned, and I knew from experience exactly how talented they were. The man had taught me how to pick locks after all. Almost made me sorry I’d left teeth marks in his skin. Almost.
I broke the silence. "Why are you here, Pierce?"
"Told you," he said, handing me a glass of deep red wine. "My job."
"No. I mean here? In my room?" I figured he was doing some kind of secret agent thing in the islands and my name crossed his radar for one reason or another. Who knew how super spies worked?
His gaze froze me in mid-swallow. "You. Are. My. Job."
A shiver rippled over my skin. "Me?" It came out raspy. Like I’d inhaled hot sauce. I wasn’t the sort of badass criminal Pierce tracked.
He gave me a raised eyebrow. "You."
I took a long sip of the wine, allowed it to rest on my tongue. A truly excellent cabernet. I focused on the flavor of the wine to nourish my inner coward and avoid dealing with the reality of Tynan Pierce. Surely he couldn’t be serious. My reasons for being in Hawaii were personal. No one knew—except Pierce, obviously. And the government. It didn't sit well.
"Talk," I demanded, flapping my hand in a come-on gesture.
He gave me a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. "I’m your bodyguard."
"You don’t do that kind of work." My words were strong, sure.
"Your DSS clearance—"
I held up my hand, stopping him in mid sentence. "DSS?"
"Defense Security Service." He waved his fingers at me. "The ESP issue."
"Mitch," I said, my mind catapulting to a new explanation. "No. He couldn't have told you I was here. I left a voice message during the layover in Minneapolis, but—
"Not what I'm talking about," Pierce said, his brogue cutting into my thoughts. "Tell me about the testing you had done to get your security rating."
I took a sip of wine. "Twenty-six years ago? You mean that horrible psychological ordeal my parents put me through to make sure I didn’t need prolonged therapy?"
He swallowed a mouthful of wine. "Might’ve been."
I placed a piece of cheese on a cracker and bit into it, giving me time to think. "My fingers kicked into high gear when I was four. So they tell me, anyway. I only remember questioning my parents about the pictures that were showing up in my mind."
Pierce nodded. Silent.
I inhaled, and popped the rest of the cracker and cheese in my mouth. The salt on the cracker brought out the rich, creamy cheddar flavor. "I was driving everyone crazy with my curiosity, and then they started to worry that I was…unbalanced. It wasn’t fun."
Pierce took his time selecting a slice of Havarti and a rye cracker. Not that he ever said much, but this silence was more pregnant than the usual pause. Was he trying to get me to talk? I was way too tired for this kind of mind game.
"What’s going on, Pierce?"
"That’s all you remember?" he asked by way of answering my question.
The man could be irritating as all hell. "A series of tests. They hooked me up to instruments. I touched things, they asked questions. Sometimes they gave me drugs. It was bad." Another shudder. I sipped at my wine, reveling in the steadying warmth as it trailed into my stomach.
He nodded. "That was when James Gray got your DSS clearance."
I wrinkled my nose at him. "That’s crazy. They wouldn’t give any kind of clearance to a kid. What would I know? And kids can’t keep secrets worth a darn."
"That was the problem. What do you know about your father’s work?"
I tucked my legs under me and tried to still the churning in my stomach. "My dad was an attorney for the government. Nothing fancy," I said with a shrug. "Both he and my mom traveled a lot. They didn’t bring their work home. Not that I ever knew about, anyway."
"Think about it, El. Your father comes in the door at night, picks you up—"
"And I watched his day pass across my mind," I said, finishing his sentence.
Pierce planted his right ankle on his left knee. It stretched his jeans in places I had no business noticing. But damn if sex and Pierce weren’t synonymous. He cleared his throat, then grinned. There is nothing worse than getting caught while ogling. It was so not cool.
I gave myself a hard mental shake. It was past time to get him out of my room, and maybe send Mitch another text. "None of this tells me why you’re here. In my room."
He swirled the wine in his glass. "DSS added you to Gray’s clearance a couple years after you were tested. It was a compromise so they didn’t have to terminate their leading contract specialist."
I set my wine down and leaned forward. "You’re telling me the government gave me a security clearance at the age of six so my dad could keep his job? That’s ridiculous."
"Probably more complex than that. You were a problem."
I grabbed a pillow off the chair, hugging it against my abdomen. "Yeah. Always have been. Although I can see where a six-year old running around with access to diplomatic negotiations could be a bit much for anyone to cope with. Why’d they wait until I was six? Why not give it to me when they first tested me? And surely it would have been easier and smarter to fire my dad."
"School. Your parents went to great lengths to keep your life normal. And Gray was a lynchpin in highly classified negotiations. Not an agent, so only trained in basic hand-to-hand and weapons. Easy to kill. Tough to replace."
"The thing is—" I tossed the pillow aside— "I wouldn’t have known what those images referred to. They probably didn’t even interest me enough to—"
Pierce choked
on a swallow of wine, shot me a look that leaked skepticism.
"Okay. So maybe I asked questions. Is that why you’re here? To see if I remember any government secrets from twenty-six years ago?"
He ignored my question. "There’s a file on you."
"A file? Okay. That makes sense in a freaky kind of way. The government has files on lots of people. I’m hardly worth—"
He held up his hand, shutting me up. "You hit their radar when you bought the ticket for Honolulu."
"I’ve flown before. Only a couple times because of the ESP thing, but it shouldn’t have caught anyone’s attention."
"Hon-o-lu-lu." He spaced out the syllables.
I looked around the hotel room. Yes, this was definitely Honolulu. I stretched my shoulders up to my ears and dropped them back down. "And?"
He slid forward in his chair, rested his elbows on his knees, and dangled his empty wine glass between his fingers. It was mesmerizing.
"Why are you here, Everly?"
"Huh? Here?" I pointed at the floor.
He nodded. Once.
I un-tucked my feet and slid forward. "It’s personal." No way was I talking about my grandmother. Not until I knew—
"No. I’m here because it’s not personal." His voice was too soft, menace lingering under the words.
Panic knotted between my shoulders.
"I don’t understand." I gripped the stem of his wine glass, and pulled it out of his hand. Enough with the mesmerizing.
"Family," I whispered. "I’m here for family."
Pierce sat back in his chair, settling his gaze on my face. "Let’s try that again. You’re my assignment. Now, why are you here?"
He wasn’t kidding. I set the glass down, planted my feet on the floor and stood. Sort of. It was more like a wobble since my knees had lost their bones. I made it the few steps to where I’d dropped my handbag, snagged it off the floor, and pulled out the letter from my grandmother.
Tears bit the back of my eyes. The possibility I might still have a living relative was so new and fragile that I didn’t want to share it with anyone. I dropped onto the edge of the chair, handed Pierce the letter, and hugged my arms close to my chest.
He scanned the contents, carefully folded the letter, slid it back in the envelope, and set it on the table between us. "You’re here to visit your grandmother?"
I nodded. "If she’s alive—" I cleared the heaviness from my throat— "yes, I hope so."
"The government has been searching for her since Loyria and James Gray were killed."
My temper propelled me out of the chair, and I paced. "Why would the government care anything about my grandmother? Does she even know her daughter was killed?"
I stumbled, landed on the edge of the sofa. If my grandmother didn’t know, it would be on me to tell her. "Could you just leave me alone, Pierce? Go back to chasing bad guys or whatever it is you do." It sounded lame, even to me.
"You’re potentially the bad guy." There wasn’t a trace of expression on his face, but his eyes held a touch of…doubt, maybe.
"Me?" My gut twisted. "But you just said you’re my bodyguard."
He nodded. Once. It was getting to be an annoying habit.
I crossed my arms, squeezing some of the ache from my heart. "What the hell are you talking about? I rarely left my house until a few months ago. How could I be a bad guy?"
"That’d be the question I’m here to answer."
Three
It took a concerted effort to close my mouth. What the hell? Any semblance of sanity was long since gone, and it left me drained. I dropped back on the sofa in defeated collapse. "Could you just tell me what in the bloody hell is going on?"
"Remember the letter with the numbered code you asked A.J. to pass to me a few months back? It was a direct order from your mother’s handler. Loyria Gray chose not to comply." His words filled the space between us and settled on my shoulders with all the subtlety of a bull elephant. Or maybe a slippery anaconda.
I propped my elbow on my knee and stared at him while I tried to make sense of what he was saying. "I thought we were discussing my father. My mother was a forensic archaeologist. She didn’t work for the government. And that letter was really old."
My mind sifted through various possibilities.
Pierce nodded. "Her paycheck came from a private institution, but what she discovered caught the attention of the government, and they recruited her."
"My mom discovered something important?" Flashbacks from childhood threatened—memories of ankle holsters, her proficiency with guns, how my father worried when she traveled without him—and put some truth behind what Pierce said. I’d worked hard to bury the memories, and had done such a good job I could barely locate them. I rested my head against the back of the sofa, staring at the ceiling fan, searching for answers.
Clues dropped into place. I bounced off the sofa, and squared off, facing Pierce. "You think I’m here to finish what my mother started? You think I know something about her work? Something the government has been looking for since she died? But I gave you that letter. Doesn't that prove…?"
A dark shadow touched his eyes, disappeared in an instant, but it still told me all I needed to know.
"It wasn’t an accident," I whispered, standing over him. "You’re telling me my mother was murdered, aren’t you? Did you do it? Did the government do it?"
"Yes. Of course not, and no."
"And my father? He was murdered too?"
"We think James Gray was trying to protect his wife."
Finally something that made sense. My father had been very protective of my mother and of me. Shock slammed hot and cold flashes through my body, and I shook. Hugged myself to stop the chattering.
Pierce spanned my waist with his hands and planted me on his lap, then snagged my wineglass off the coffee table. "Drink," he said, handing the glass to me. "We need to finish this conversation."
I gulped and the wine hit my belly with a thud that kicked my brain into gear.
"What is it? What does the government think I know?" My words wobbled.
"Loyria Gray discovered a substance that could prove useful to the military," Pierce said, twirling a strand of my hair.
I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed off his lap. "Useful." I paced. "As in lethal?"
He nodded. Once.
"And my grandmother?" I focused my gaze on him. This wasn’t something I’d let him lie about.
"Long before your mother was killed she severed all connections with your grandmother. Probably to protect her." He shrugged. "Did a damn fine job of it, ‘cause no one has ever been able to find her."
I smiled. "Go, Mom."
Pierce stood, strode to a door that blended into the woodwork, pushed it open, and disappeared.
I stormed after him. No way was he disappearing with this conversation half finished. A suite identical to mine spread out in front of me. Adjoining rooms? Any hope for privacy evaporated, and anger erupted deep in my gut, chasing away my remaining shock.
A second later Pierce pushed around me, a folder tucked under his arm.
I glared.
"You figured it out, huh? I know how you think, El. Made it easy to stay a couple steps ahead of you."
"Ahead of me? Damn it, Pierce, you set this up. I knew the clerk at the Halekulani was hiding something. You had this room for me before I ever got off the plane."
"Uh-huh." He pursed his lips. Full, soft lips. Double damn. The man could distract a saint, but there was enough smug in his tone to put a twist in my purple panties.
"How? Surely that’s an invasion of privacy."
"Not in this case. James and Loyria Gray were murdered. Both of them were getting paychecks from the government, and she was under surveillance. Your sudden flight sent the suits spinning, and they want you protected."
"Watched would be the correct word. This is about protecting their investment in whatever my mother discovered. I’m an irritating, and probably expendable, person of int
erest."
I focused on the folder in Pierce's hand. "Gimme."
He gave me a weighted look, blue eyes dark with speculation.
I spun on my heel and marched toward the balcony. I needed space to think. The exhaustion from traveling and the free fall into my parents’ past had caught up with me. It wasn't a good time to go toe-to-toe with Tynan Pierce.
He came up behind me, rested his hand on my shoulder, and gently turned me toward him. "You can’t avoid this."
I sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, yes, I bloody well can. I can go back to North Carolina. Forget this whole Hawaii thing, and keep my grandmother safe."
He blocked the doorway into my room.
Intimidation didn’t work well for me. Not even when it was Pierce. Especially when it was Pierce.
I crossed to the balcony railing, looked down and slipped a leg over the edge. It made a great exit as far as escape routes went. Lots of finger and toeholds.
Strong hands caught me around the waist. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" he asked, hauling me back into the room.
I twisted out of his grasp and rammed my fist into his face. Pain shot through my knuckles. "Ouch! Oh, holy shit, I hit you." I stuffed my shaking hands into the deep terry pockets of the Ma Kai robe.
"Uh-huh."
I ignored the blood trickling from his nose. "I was exiting the scene—" I hiked my thumb over my shoulder— "stage right."
He swiped at the blood and mumbled something in a strange language.
Sounded violent.
Should have scared me.
I grinned, snatched the folder from under his arm, and poured myself another glass of wine. I couldn’t afford to be predictable around Tynan Pierce.
There were no surprises about my background stuff—where I lived, what I did, my finances—all of that was routine. But the information about my parents was worse than I imagined, including details about their personal relationship, where they’d traveled, who they'd worked with and talked to.
And it was still incomplete. Didn’t tell me a thing about what my mother discovered, or what she was hiding from the government, which meant they didn’t trust me. Not surprising, but it put me firmly in the suspect category.
a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure) Page 2