by CINDI MEYERS
It would be so easy to move back into his arms, to give in to the longing that thrummed in every fiber of her being. To forget, for a blissful hour or so, about the danger that surrounded them and the uncertain future that loomed before them.
But the events of the past year had proved the folly of ever taking the easy route, or of letting emotion get the upper hand over sense. “I can’t start something with you that we can’t finish,” she said. “I’m not that reckless anymore.”
“Then I’ll be reckless enough for both of us,” he said.
“You know that’s not wise.”
“Since when was I ever a wise man? Especially where you’re concerned.”
“You’re one of the smartest men I know. Right now we need to concentrate on staying alive and finding my father.”
His expression grew pained. “You’re right, but it doesn’t make me happy to admit it.”
She’d once believed her job was to make herself happy, that everything would fall into place if she just focused on that. Her self-indulgence had almost gotten Jake killed, and had destroyed the life she’d known.
“I’d better go in,” she said.
Not waiting for his answer, she climbed out of the tub and slipped back into her robe and boots. As she crossed to the elevator, the three bikini-clad girls descended on him. She fought back a stab of jealousy. Maybe those girls were just what he needed to take his mind off her. She was determined not to complicate matters by getting involved with Jake again, but she wasn’t so strong she wouldn’t spend time mourning what might have been.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Jake and Anne were at the drop-off area at the base of the gondola at eight-thirty. The lifts opened at nine, and Anne said her father liked to get an early start, to beat the crowds and get the best lines in the freshly groomed snow and unpacked powder.
Neither of them had said a word about their exchange in the hot tub, though Jake couldn’t stop thinking about it. His skin still felt feverish from her touch, and he’d spent a restless night fantasizing about making love to her, hearing her scream his name in delight the way she used to.
For the hundredth time, he shoved the fantasy away. He had work to do. And she was right—he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted.
From a table on the balcony of a coffee shop that overlooked the drop-off area, they watched a procession of SUVs, shuttle buses and sedans drop off skiers and snowboarders. A figure in red pants and a red jacket, his short-cropped white hair shining in the sun, crossed the courtyard on his way to the lift. “That’s Senator Nordley,” Jake said.
Anne studied the stocky man, who’d paused to speak with a trio of women near the lift. “He doesn’t look familiar,” she said. “I don’t think he was ever at the house while I was there.”
“It would be interesting to follow him and see what he does while he’s here.”
“He probably skis, and hits the bars and the shops, like everyone else who comes here on vacation,” she said. “And you’re supposed to be looking for my father, not politicians.”
“Right.” Just then, a black four-door sedan pulled into the line. He and Anne both leaned forward. “Is that him?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know yet,” she whispered, though there was no chance the occupants of the vehicle would hear her from up here.
The car eased into position at the head of the line and the back door opened. A man dressed in black ski pants and a black and white jacket slid out, followed by a second man, who went around to the trunk and took out two pairs of skis.
The first man looked up at the gondola, and for a moment the sun caught him full on the face. Anne gave a small cry, and Jake put his hand on her arm to steady her. “That looks like him, doesn’t it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Jake studied the man more closely. He was trim, and tanned, silver hair showing beneath a black watch cap. Sunglasses shaded his eyes, but Jake remembered Sam Giardino’s intense blue gaze. Even from this distance, dressed in ski clothes, Sam radiated command. He strode toward the gondola, the man with him shouldering both pairs of skis. The car pulled away from the drop-off area, into the line of vehicles waiting to exit.
“Come on, we’d better get down there.” Jake stood and Anne followed him down the stairs and across the cobblestoned courtyard.
They’d discussed the plan last night and decided Anne would approach first—a tourist asking directions. While she had the driver distracted, Jake would make his move.
She hurried to the driver’s door. Jake wiped the sweat from his palms and gripped the pistol inside his coat pocket. The last thing he wanted was a shootout here, with all these people around, but if the driver tried anything with Anne...
She knocked on the driver’s window. Waited. Knocked again. Jake’s chest hurt from holding his breath. Maybe this wasn’t going to work.
Finally, the driver’s window lowered. Anne was supposed to play the role of the pretty, flirtatious tourist, buying time for Jake to slip in and surprise the driver. But the smile on her face vanished when she saw the driver. She covered her mouth with one hand, and used the other to brace herself against the car. Then she opened the passenger door behind the driver and climbed in.
The car inched forward in the line of departing vehicles. Anne was being driven away by a killer—or at least by a killer’s employee. This definitely wasn’t part of their plan. Gripping the gun in his pocket, Jake sprinted toward the car. Anne leaned forward and said something to the driver and the door locks clicked. When Jake tried the door, it was open, so Anne must have told the driver to let him in.
“Mr. Westmoreland. I’m surprised to see you here.” The driver looked at Jake in the rearview mirror, his expression hidden by dark glasses.
Jake leaned forward and pressed the muzzle of the gun against the back of the driver’s neck. “Drive us to the overlook just outside of town. Pull in there.”
Anne stared at him, eyes wide. “Jake! This is Doug. He used to drive me to school when I was a little girl. He would never hurt me. Put that gun away.”
“Your father wants you dead, and he works for your father.”
“I’m a driver, not a killer.” Doug put the car into gear and turned onto the street that led away from the ski resort. “I’m glad to see Miss Elizabeth looking so well, but I can’t say the same about you.”
“Jake isn’t with the feds anymore,” Anne said. “He’s just trying to protect me.”
“No offense, Miss Elizabeth, but I always thought you could do a lot better than the likes of him. I thought so the first day you brought him home.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Jake shoved the gun harder against the chauffeur’s neck. He recognized the man now, a weathered, reedy sixtysomething, who chewed spearmint gum nonstop and did Sudoku puzzles while he waited for Sam to summon him.
“Jake, please.” Anne put a hand on Jake’s arm, but he shrugged her off. She wanted him to be gentle with the old chauffeur, but these people didn’t deserve gentleness. They only understood violence.
Doug removed his sunglasses and his eyes met Jake’s in the rearview mirror. Clearly, he thought Jake was the equivalent of something he’d wipe off the bottom of his shoe, but he had apparently decided to humor him, for Elizabeth’s sake. He put the car in gear and drove toward the overlook. No one said anything, though Jake could feel Anne beside him, disapproval radiating from her like strong perfume.
The paved pullout overlooking the town was empty. Doug nosed the car up to the rock wall that separated visitors from the canyon below and shut off the engine. “We’re here,” he announced.
“Anne, get out of the car and leave us,” Jake said.
“No.” She glared at him. “I won’t let you hurt him.” She turned to Doug. “I want to see my father,” she said. �
��Please tell us where he’s staying.”
“You know I can’t do that, Miss Elizabeth. I’d do almost anything for you, but I can’t do that.”
“Tell us where Giardino is staying, or I’ll blow your head off.” Jake cocked the gun. Anne gasped, but he ignored her. Anger made his pulse pound and formed a painful knot in his chest. After so many months of suffering and planning, he was finally close to the people who had caused him so much pain—people who had hurt Anne and destroyed her life. He was a professional; he would control himself. But that didn’t mean he didn’t long for a little revenge.
Sweat dotted the driver’s forehead, but he remained calm, eyes fixed on Anne. “I can’t tell you where Mr. Giardino is staying,” he said. “But I can give him a message from you, if you’d like.”
“No!” Jake barked, before Anne could answer. The tears that shimmered in her eyes made him feel about two inches tall. He gentled his voice. “If he knows you’re here, he’ll send someone to kill you.”
“He must know I’m in the area,” she said. “He sent those other men after us.”
“If you care anything about her at all, you won’t betray her to her father,” Jake told the driver.
Doug nodded, the barrel of the weapon scraping the soft flesh of his neck, making a red mark.
“Tell Sammy I’m here and I want to see him,” Anne said.
Jake sent her a questioning look, but she avoided his gaze.
“Where will he find you?” Doug asked.
“Tell him she’ll meet him at the bar at the base of the gondola in town tonight at seven,” Jake said. The bar was public enough Sammy probably wouldn’t try anything, yet they’d be able to have a private conversation.
Doug nodded. Anne looked sick, but she nodded, too.
The sound of an old-fashioned telephone ringing made Jake flinch, though he kept the gun steady. “That’s my cell,” Doug said.
The ringing sounded again, out of place in the morning stillness. “Answer it,” Jake said.
Doug picked up the phone. “Hello... Yes, Mr. Giardino. I’ll be right there.”
He clicked off the phone and looked at Anne. “That was your father. He forgot his neck gaiter and wants me to bring it to him. Do you want to come with me and see him now?”
She hesitated. Jake wanted to tell her no, but he held his tongue. She knew what was at stake here.
She shook her head. “No. I won’t see him now. Just...just give Sammy my message.” She sagged back in the seat. “Please drop us off before you get to the gondola.”
Ignoring Jake, despite the gun that was still pressed to the back of his neck, Doug started the car again, and pulled onto the highway.
“Drop us at the grocery store on the edge of town,” Jake said.
“Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes. The grocery store is fine.” Anne hugged her arms across her chest and stared out the window, her expression distant, her face pale. No doubt she’d have plenty to say to Jake later. Fine. Let her be angry with him; anger wouldn’t stop him doing whatever he had to in order to keep her safe.
Doug pulled the car into a space at the edge of the grocery store parking lot. “It was good to see you, Miss Elizabeth,” he said.
“It was good to see you, too, Doug.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“I’ll give Mr. Sammy your message.”
“Thank you.”
Jake stowed the gun in his coat and followed Anne out of the car. As soon as he shut the door behind them, Doug pulled away. Anne wrapped her coat more tightly around her and angled her body away from Jake. “I thought you didn’t think Sammy would help us,” he said.
“But he’s all we’ve got, isn’t he?” She whirled to face him, anger restoring some of the color to her face. “If you hadn’t pulled that gun and started making threats, I could have talked Doug into telling me what we need to know.”
“Or, he’d have pulled his own gun and marched you straight to your father.”
“I couldn’t let you hurt Doug. I thought if I did what you wanted in the first place—agree to talk to Sammy—you’d let the old man alone.”
He leaned close, almost, but not quite touching, his voice low, his gaze locked to hers. “I know this is hard for you. These people are your family. But you know they’re also killers. And I will do anything—including risking your anger—to protect you from them.”
The resentment was gone now, replaced by grief and resignation. “I know.” She stared at the icy pavement beneath their feet. “Maybe Sammy will help us. You were right when you said there’s no love lost between him and my father. Things may have gotten worse since I left.”
“Are you okay?” He studied her face, trying to read her emotions, but she refused to meet his gaze. So much for thinking he’d fully gained her trust.
“I’m scared,” she said after a moment. “Scared this trip is a waste of time and I’m going to have to run away again. Scared we’ve somehow made things worse.”
“I won’t give up until I find your father,” he said. “I won’t leave this alone until you’re safe.”
He started to pull her into his arms, but stopped as a black SUV braked to a stop in front of them, so close it almost brushed against them. The front passenger window lowered and Sammy Giardino looked out at them. “Doug told me you wanted to see me,” he said. “No reason to wait until tonight when I’m right here.”
Chapter Fifteen
Anne stared at Sammy, feeling as if she’d been thrust into a dream—one of those she’d had often in the early days of her exile, in which she ran into a member of her family on the street. The dreams had various outcomes—sometimes the other person embraced her, sometimes they turned away. In the worst dreams, they came at her with knives or guns. But Sammy did none of those; he merely regarded her calmly. Without his ski helmet and goggles, he looked more like the young man she remembered—a twenty-five-year-old version of their father, dark-haired and black-eyed, with the same hooked nose and square jaw that made Sam Giardino look so intimidating.
“Hello, Sammy,” she said, trying to keep the shakiness from her voice. “You’re looking well.”
“And you look like a schoolteacher.” He wrinkled his nose. “Where did you get those clothes—a thrift store?”
Was he goading her because he knew the answer to that question? Had he been aware of her the whole time she’d been in town? No, it was just a logical guess. The fact that it was all true was just a coincidence. “How have you been?” she asked.
“Well enough.” Behind them, a car honked. Sammy glanced around the crowded parking lot. “This isn’t exactly the right place for a private conversation. You must have a hotel room or something we can go to.”
“You don’t need to know where she’s staying.” Jake spoke up. Tension radiated from him, and he regarded Sammy with obvious suspicion. Anne knew the hand he kept in his coat pocket rested on his gun; she hoped Sammy wouldn’t be foolish enough to try anything here in this public place.
“It’s all right.” She turned back to Sammy. “I’m staying at the Columbia. Meet us there in the lobby and we’ll go up to my room together.”
“I’ll give you a ride.” He hit the button to unlock the car doors.
“We’ll walk.” Jake took her arm. “And come alone.” Not waiting for an answer, he pulled Anne away.
As soon as they were out of the grocery store parking lot, she jerked out of his grasp. “I don’t appreciate being bullied,” she said.
“Then I’m not the man you need to worry about right now. What are you doing, letting him know where you’re staying?”
“We need somewhere private to talk. And we need to get Sammy to trust us. We can’t do that if we don’t at least pretend we trust him. If you do
n’t think it’s safe, we can change hotels after he leaves.”
She expected him to argue with her, but he merely took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. But we need to be careful. We don’t know if he’s on our side yet. If we can’t persuade him to help us, we’ll have to leave town in a hurry. And I hope you have Thompson’s number on speed dial.”
“It will be all right. You’ll see.” She couldn’t believe her brother would hurt her—but then, she never would have believed her father would want her dead. The events of the past year had made her wary of her own instincts.
“I won’t leave you alone with him,” Jake said.
The words made her feel stronger. “And I won’t leave you alone with him, either.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but his expression remained grim.
“I’m not the one he’s liable to hurt,” Jake said.
“Don’t be too sure of that. In case you haven’t noticed, my family doesn’t have a lot of fond feelings for you.”
“Was it like that before, and I didn’t know it? Or did finding out I worked for the FBI taint their opinion of me?”
“What do you think? If I’d known you were with the Bureau, I wouldn’t have come within ten feet of you.” She smiled to soften the sharpness of her words.
“But now my irresistible charm and sex appeal have overcome those reservations.”
His tone was teasing, but the heat of his gaze made her heart pound and her breath catch, especially as she remembered how close she’d come yesterday to giving herself to him once more. If only life were less complicated, and love was simply a matter of acting on feelings, without worrying about the consequences of those actions.
Sammy was already waiting when they reached the hotel, standing under the portico, hands in his jacket pockets, his expression somber and unreadable as he watched them approach. Did he see the big sister he’d once adored, or the traitor who had destroyed the family? “I sent my driver away,” he said. “So it’s just me. And no one else knows I’m here.”