She brought the glass containing the yellow rose forward. Touching the delicate petals with her fingers, the fragrance encircling her, Susannah realized that Killian might be tough in many ways, but, like this rose that he'd symbolically left her, he had a vulnerable, fragile underside.
That realization gave Susannah hope as nothing else could have. She'd call Morgan and begin an investigation into Sean and the world he called hell. There was a reason why he'd left her. Something he hadn't told her. Now Sean was going to have to realize that not everything in his life was destined for hell. Nor was every person going to allow him to run away when it suited his purposes—whatever they might be.
Chapter Nine
Morgan stood and came around his large walnut desk as Susannah gave him a slight smile of welcome and stepped into his office. When his assistant, Marie, had shut the door, he opened his arms.
"I'm glad you came, Susannah."
Fighting back tears, Susannah moved into Morgan's comforting embrace. She gave him a quick squeeze of welcome and then stepped away from his towering presence.
"Thanks for seeing me, Morgan. I know how busy you are."
He gestured toward the creamy leather sofa in the corner of the spacious room. "You know you aren't getting out of here without staying at least overnight. Laura insists."
Nervously Susannah sat down. "Yes, I told her I'd stay one night. But she must be terribly busy with this second baby. It's wonderful you have a boy and a girl now."
Morgan nodded, satisfaction in his voice. "A year apart. Katherine Alyssa Trayhern will have a big brother to grow up with. We're very happy about it. She's a real spitfire, too."
Susannah was truly happy for them. Dressed in a navy pin-striped suit, with a paisley silk tie and white shirt, Morgan looked professional, every inch the head of his flourishing company. Susannah and Laura had been close throughout the years, and she knew of Morgan's terrible, torturous past. "Well," she whispered, glancing up at him, "I'm going to need some of that spitfire personality your daughter has."
"I know this involves Killian. How can I help you?" Morgan sat down, alert.
Gripping her leather purse, Susannah held his curious gaze. "I know I was vague on the phone, but I didn't feel this was something I wanted to talk about in detail to anyone except you. And I wanted to do it in person. As I told you on the phone, the school is giving me a month to get my life back in order, and I intend to use it to do just that."
Morgan nodded. "I'm just glad the contract's been lifted. What's this about Killian?"
Susannah's heart contracted in grief. Unable to hold his warm, probing gaze, she felt a lump forming in her throat.
Morgan leaned over and slid his hand across her slumped shoulder. "What's going on, Susannah?"
Fighting to keep herself together, she whispered, "I don't know how it happened or when it happened, but I've fallen in love with Sean." She gave him a pained look. "It happened so fast "
Morgan nodded. "I fell in love with Laura the first moment I saw her, although I didn't know it then." He grimaced. "I fought the attraction, the love she brought out in me, for a long time. It was nearly my undoing. Luckily, she hung in there and refused to let me go my own way."
"Mercenaries must all be alike," Susannah muttered unhappily.
"There's probably a grain of truth to that. I met Killian in the Foreign Legion. Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't."
"He was a corporal in the company I helped run." Morgan shrugged. "Many of the men I employ here at Perseus are old contacts out of the Legion. The women who work for me all have a military background of some sort, too."
"What is Sean running from?"
"I don't know. Did he tell you anything about his past? He's always been more tight-lipped about it than most."
"No, it's like pulling teeth to get any kind of information out of him." Susannah sat quietly, staring down at her clasped hands. Softly she said, "Something happened to me when Sean was there protecting me from that hit man. The night we were almost killed, I discovered that I loved him. The fact that we might both lose our lives clarified my feelings for him."
Frowning, Morgan sat up. "I see "
"Sean ran away from me, Morgan. He left me a note. He couldn't even face me to say goodbye, and that's not fair to me—or to him."
"Men who join the Foreign Legion are always running from something," Morgan said gently.
"I understand that now, but that's not an excuse for his behavior. I need some information," Susannah said firmly. "About Sean. About his past."
Morgan opened his hands. "When men come from the Legion, you don't ask many questions," he said gently. "Each of my employees signs a legal document saying that they aren't wanted criminals in another country before I'll hire them for Perseus. It's their word. I don't make inquiries unless I get a tip-off from Interpol or some other governmental body." He shrugged. "And Killian has been one of the most closemouthed of my men. I know very little of his past."
"Then let me fill you in," Susannah whispered, "because when I'm done with my story I want you to tell me where he lives. He and I have some unfinished business to clear up."
Morgan was scowling heavily by the time Susannah had completed her story. He'd asked Marie to bring in hot tea and cookies, and the tray sat on the glass-topped coffee table in front of the sofa. He'd also had her stop all incoming calls—except for emergencies— and canceled the rest of the day's business.
Susannah couldn't eat, but she did sip some fragrant tea.
"I hate to tell you this," Morgan said, sitting down with her again, "but when Killian came in off your assignment he requested leave."
"Leave?"
"Yes. It's a program I devised when I set up this company. When an operative's out in the field, there are tremendous stresses on him or her. When they come in off a particularly demanding assignment, they can request time off from the company for as long as they need to recuperate. Killian came back from Kentucky and wanted leave. I granted it to him, no questions asked."
Susannah's heart beat a little harder. "Where is he, then?"
"Ordinarily, where our people live is top secret. We never give out addresses to anyone, for fear of the information leaking into enemy hands. But in this case, I'm going to make an exception."
Relief made her shaky. "He won't be expecting me to show up."
Morgan smiled grimly. "There's something about the element of surprise—you might catch him off guard enough to level with you."
"He never has leveled with me, Morgan."
Moving uncomfortably, he said, "Susannah, you're dealing with a lot of unknown factors here."
"He's hurting terribly, Morgan."
Rubbing his jaw, Morgan nodded. "I was hurting a lot when Laura met me," he murmured. "And I can't say I was the world's nicest person around her."
"But you hung in there—together. And look at you now. You're happy, Morgan."
Exhaling, he said, "Susannah, Killian's hurting in a lot of ways neither of us knows. I know you're an idealist, and I know you have a large, forgiving heart. But Killian may not have the capacity to reach out to you, even if he wants to. He may be too afraid, for whatever reason. You have to be prepared to accept that if it happens."
She hung her head and nodded. "I'm not so idealistic that I don't know when I'm not wanted, Morgan. But Sean never gave me that chance. He never had the courage to sit down and tell me the truth."
"I'm not saying what he did was right," Morgan said, frowning heavily. "We all run in our own way. Luckily, I had Laura's steadfast courage, her belief in me that helped me get a handhold on my own internal problems." Then, with a slight smile filled with sorrow, he added, "I still have problems that overflow into our personal life, our relationship. Mostly because of me, because of my past that still haunts me. It's not as bad now, but believe me, Laura has her hands full some days with me when the past hits me like a sledgehammer." He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. "Come on, it's t
ime to go home. Laura promised me a special meal because you were coming. Let's not be late."
The loneliness Susannah had felt since Killian's abrupt departure was somewhat ameliorated by Morgan and his happy family. Laura, beautiful as ever with her long blond hair, dancing eyes and ready smile, helped lift Susannah's spirits. Her son, Jason Charles Trayhern, had his father's dark black hair and gray eyes. On the other hand, three-month-old Katherine Alyssa was a duplicate of Laura's ethereal beauty. Just getting to hold her was a treat for Susannah.
After the meal was eaten and the children had been put to bed, Susannah lingered over a cup of coffee with Laura in the living room. Morgan discreetly excused himself and retired to his home office in the basement of their large home.
Laura curled up on the flowery print couch and smoothed her long pink cotton skirt.
"So tell me what's going on, Susannah! You barely ate any of that great supper I fixed!"
"I know, and I'm really sorry, Laura. The roast leg of lamb was wonderful. It's just that I've got a lot of things on my mind. Well. . . my heart, to be more honest." She smiled and leaned over, petting Sasha, the family's huge brown-and-white Saint Bernard, who had made herself at home next to Susannah's feet. She'd long since taken off her shoes and gotten comfortable—Laura and Morgan's home invited that kind of response.
"Killian, by any chance?"
"How did you know?"
With a slight smile, Laura said softly, "He's a man who's crying for a woman to help bring him out of his self-imposed exile."
"You've always had such insight into people."
Laura shrugged and smiled. "That's what helped me understand Morgan when I first met him. He was a man trapped in hell, although I didn't understand why for quite some time."
"Well," Susannah muttered. "That's exactly how Sean described himself."
"Chances are," Laura said gently, "he lives in an emotional hell on a daily basis." With a sigh, she sipped the coffee. "Susannah, men who go through a war like Morgan did are scarred for life. It kills a part of them, so they're crippled emotionally, in a sense. But that doesn't mean they can't make the most of what is still intact within them."
"Morgan had you to help him realize all of that."
"We had our love, our belief in each other," Laura agreed quietly. "Sometimes it's still not easy. For Morgan, the war will never really be over. There are days when there's a lot of tension between us." She smiled softly. "Fortunately, we love each other enough to sit down and discuss what's bothering him. Morgan has slowly been opening up more with each year that passes, but it's never easy for us, Susannah."
"You have his trust," Susannah pointed out. "I never had time to get Sean's trust. It all happened so fast, so soon. . . ."
"I understand better than most," Laura whispered. "Men like Killian and Morgan need a woman with strength, with steadiness, because they've lost those things emotionally within themselves. I hope you're prepared for the kind of uphill battles a man like that will put you through."
Susannah glanced at her. "You're not scaring me off, Laura, if that's what you're trying to do."
Reaching over, Laura touched her shoulder. "No one believes in the power of love more than I do. I've seen it work miracles with Morgan—and with me." She lifted her head and looked toward the darkened hall that led to the bedrooms, her eyes misty. "And we have two beautiful babies that reflect that love."
"Ma didn't raise me to think life was easy," Susannah said. "I know the hell I went through with Sean while he was there. He just wouldn't—couldn't— talk."
"And that's going to be the biggest stumbling block when you see him again. Men like that feel as if they're carrying such a horrendous amount of ugliness within them. They're afraid that if they start to talk about it, it will get out of control."
"So they get tight-lipped about it?"
Laura nodded. "Exactly."
With a sigh, Susannah shrugged. "I don't have a choice in this, Laura. I don't want one, anyway. Sean is worth it."
"Well, tomorrow morning, Morgan's driver will take you to the airport, and you'll fly to Victoria, British Columbia, where he lives. It's on a lovely island off the west coast of Canada. There's quite a British flavor to the place. And flowers!" Laura smiled fondly. "The island is a riot of color and fragrance. I've never seen so many roses! You'll love the island."
As she listened, Susannah hoped that her lack of worldliness wouldn't be her undoing. She sat tensely, her hands clasped in her lap. All she had to lead her through this tangled web that Sean lived within was her heart. What would he do when she showed up at his doorstep? As Morgan had said, the element of surprise might work for her—but, she thought, it could also work against her.
Susannah had never needed the kind of strength she knew she would need in order to face Sean Killian bravely. Only Sean could show her if what she felt for him was love. But even if it was, there was no guarantee that he would have the courage to admit it.
Kneeling in the triangular flower bed, Killian stared glumly down at the bright yellow marigold in his hands. The gold, red and yellow flowers assaulted the air with their rather acrid odor. Like the flower in his hand, surrounded by the moist, rich soil, he was alone. Alone and bitter.
Resolutely he dug a small hole with the trowel, and placed the marigold in it. With dirt-stained hands, he pressed the moist earth securely over the roots. Gardening had always helped soothe him. Until now.
Looking up from the garden, Killian stared at the calm blue of the ocean, three hundred feet away. His green manicured lawn contrasted beautifully with the glassy water. The pale azure of the sky was dotted with fleecy white clouds. Summer in Victoria was his favorite time. Luckily, the money he'd earned over the years had gotten him this small English-style cottage when the couple who'd owned it, up in years, could no longer keep up with its landscaping and gardening demands and sold it to him.
Susannah. Her name hung in front of Killian as he caressed the tiny, frilly petals of a pale yellow marigold. The color reminded him of the hope that always burned in her eyes. Hope. He had none. The feeling had been utterly destroyed so long ago. Closing his eyes, he knelt there, surrounded by the lonely cries of the sea gulls that endlessly patrolled the beach and, off in the distance, the hoarse barks of sea lions.
Killian opened his eyes, feeling the terrible loneliness knife through him as never before. Slowly he looked around. He was surrounded by the ephemeral beauty of many carefully constructed flower beds, all geometrically shaped and designed by him, their rainbow colors breathtaking. But Killian could feel none of his usual response to them. Only Susannah could make him feel.
What was wrong? What had happened to him? He opened up his hands and studied them darkly. He'd made love to other women off and on throughout his life, but never had the act—or more truthfully, the feelings—continued to live like a burning-hot light within his body and heart as they did now.
With a shake of his head, Killian muttered under his breath and got to his feet. Brushing off the bits of soil clinging to his jeans, he straightened. The three tiers of flower gardens culminated with at least a hundred roses of various colors. Their fragrance was heavy in the area nearest the rear sliding glass doors to his house.
And it was a house, Killian reminded himself harshly. Susannah's ramshackle, broken-down old place was a home. She'd made it feel homey, comfortable and warm with her life and presence. Killian savored the hours spent with her in that antiquated kitchen. Every night when he lay down to try to sleep, those scenes would replay like a haunting movie across his closed eyelids. And when he finally did sleep, torrid, heated dreams of loving Susannah drove him to wakefulness, and a clawing hunger that brought him to the verge of tears. Tears! He never cried!
Stopping at the rose garden, a long, rectangular area bordered with red brick, Killian barely brushed a lavender rose with his fingertips. Susannah. No longer did Killian try to escape her memory. The doorbell rang, pulling his attention from his morbid reverie.
Who could it be? His housekeeper and regular gardener, Emily Johnston, had left earlier to buy the week's groceries, and she wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning.
Automatically Killian dropped into his natural mode of wariness. Although his address and phone number were known only to Meg and Morgan, he didn't trust his many enemies not to track him down. As careful as Killian was about masking his movements to preserve his sanctuary, he never fooled himself. Someday one of his more patient and vengeful enemies might locate him.
Padding through the fully carpeted house, Killian halted at the front door and peered through the oneway glass. Susannah! His heart thumped hard in his chest. What the hell was she doing here? Could he be dreaming? His mind spun with questions. His heart began an uneven pounding. As he closed his hand over the brass doorknob, Killian felt a surge of hope tunnel through him. Just as quickly, he savagely destroyed the burgeoning feeling.
The door swung open. Susannah looked through the screen at Killian. As usual, his features were set—but his eyes gave away his true feelings. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart was thundering like a runaway freight train. She girded herself for his disapproval.
"What are you doing here?" Killian demanded in a rasp. He glanced around, checking out the surrounding area. Luckily, the street ended in a cul-de- sac, and he knew who his neighbors were and the cars they drove. The white Toyota out front must be a rental car that Susannah had driven.
"We've got some unfinished business," Susannah whispered. It was so hard to gather strength when she felt like caving in and stepping those precious few feet to fall into Killian's arms. The terrible light in his eyes told him he was no less tortured by her unexpected appearance than she was.
"Get in here," he growled, and gripped her by the arm.
The Rogue Page 15