To the Edge

by Anna del Mar

  “Mr. Blake.” She examined me from head to toes. “It’s been a while.”

  “Ms. Gomez.” I gave her a curt nod. “I’m here to see Clara. I will not leave until I do. I suggest you take me to her, right now, and be done with the rest.”

  Her lip curled to show her fangs. “Is that a threat I hear in your voice?”

  “It’s simply the way it’s going to be from now on.”

  Diana’s nostrils expanded to the size of dimes, but I had to give her credit. She didn’t go off half-cocked. She gave my Delta Force friend a nod. He stepped forward and patted me down. I let him. I appreciated consistency in security protocols and the fact that these people recognized me as the dangerous creature I was.

  “Clear,” Delta Force said.

  Diana led me through the metal detector. When it didn’t alarm, she waved her arm. “Follow me. The senator will see you now.”

  The senator. Of course. I wouldn’t be allowed to get through to Clara unless I got through her mother.

  The grand hall glowed with the soft yellow light of towers of flickering candles. The jazz band occupied the balcony along the colonnade. The lead singer belted a string of melodies that kept the dance floor full. Dinner had long been served and waiters with trays of after-dinner drinks tempted me with a chance to dull my anxiety. I passed. Better not add alcohol to the mix ripping up my circulatory system and blazing through my veins.

  The senator stood at the edge of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of admirers, looking regal in a green silk gown. I had to blink to dispel the brilliance of the pair of emerald earrings dangling from her lobes. I recognized Clara’s poise in her mother’s stance, class that dazzled beyond the jewels, and echoes of Clara’s temper in the sparks that lit Margaret Luz’s effervescent blue eyes as her stare homed in on me.

  That face. Nothing had changed in fifteen years. A headline ticked across my mind: PTSD-Stricken Veteran Kills United States Senator. I dug my nails into my palms. Breathe. I reminded myself that I hadn’t come all the way out here for revenge. What a shame that I couldn’t uncouple Clara’s fate from her mother’s and let the senator walk into the trap I’d discovered. ’Cause that would be justice in my book. But, like it or not, this woman was Clara’s mother and a senator of the country I’d sworn to protect and defend. I gritted my teeth and mustered my self-discipline. I would be civil tonight.

  The senator dismissed her worshippers with a titter, then turned toward me and, tilting her head, took my measure like a cat assessing a new toy.

  “Noah Blake,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’re late.”

  “Late?” I wasn’t even supposed to be here.

  “Yes, late,” the senator said, voice tinged with irritation. Her gaze swept around the room, considering the crowd around us. “Would you like to ask me to dance?”

  Like hell I would. “I don’t dance, Senator.”

  Her lips split into a wide smile.

  No. Oh, no. I stiffened. I’d rather take another bullet to the kidney...

  She stepped onto the dance floor, offered me her hand and smirked. “You dance now.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t have the time or the inclination for this shit, but the gazes of the partygoers were on us, some discreet, some overt. I didn’t want my name splattered all over the gossip columns tomorrow morning as the idiot who spurned the beloved senator. I gritted my teeth, forced myself to step onto the dance floor, took her hand and put my arm around her waist.

  “One dance only,” I muttered, swaying from one foot to the other.

  “Fair enough.” She smiled for the cameras.

  The dance floor was crowded. The throng pressed all around me. A drop of sweat trickled down my back. My senses screamed overload. A multitude of faces and colors dazzled my retinas. The mix of scents left me suffocating in a nauseating cloud of perfume. Shrill laughter trumped the music and chiseled at my brain. I would’ve gladly paid a million dollars for a moment alone in a silent, dark room.

  Hell no. I wasn’t going to malfunction and blow up in front of Margaret Luz. Force the brain to function. Focus on the mission. I kept track of Diana, who stood nearby, keeping sentry at the edge of the dance floor, and steeled myself to face the senator, knowing that I needed to execute at the top of my range tonight.

  Margaret tilted up her head and hit me with a look that reminded me so much of Clara it was uncanny. She leaned over my shoulder and spoke directly into my ear. “My daughter has informed me that you’re her current choice for dating, or something to that effect.”

  What? I stared down the witch. “Clara told you that?”

  “Indeed,” the senator said. “She seems to have developed some sort of emotional attachment to you and, since she’s a grown woman now, I’m supposed to support her by accepting that somewhat elusive notion. Unless, of course, you’d rather take the high road and get out of our lives now, before you officially enter the Luz world?”

  I struggled to keep my mouth closed, trying to process everything the woman had said, even though my mind got stuck on that last part about officially entering the Luz world. Most importantly, Clara had told her about me, and that gave me hope that I was still in play. My heart somersaulted against my ribs.

  “Noah?” She squeezed my hand. “Pay attention, please. Are you currently considering the high road?”

  “The high road?” Her definition of the high road was for me to bow out of Clara’s life of my own volition. Fuck the bitch. “No, Senator. I’m going down the low and dirty road all the way to the end. This time around, you’re not getting me out of Clara’s life.”

  “Oh, well.” She sighed. “You do understand I had to try, don’t you?”

  “Whether you like it or not,” I growled under my breath, “I’m here to stay.”

  “Noah, dear, you need to work on your social skills.” She waved distractedly at someone in the crowd. “That’s no way to talk to people you plan to include in your future.”

  I stopped in my tracks. What the hell?

  “Close your mouth, dear,” she said, taking over the lead and driving me around the dance floor as if I had wheels instead of feet. “Staring with your mouth hanging open is never flattering. Don’t look so flabbergasted. Can you at least put up a front and pretend you’re enjoying yourself?”

  “You’ll have to forgive me if my manners are a bit rusty.” I shook off the blow and retook the lead. “But this conversation is too surreal for a plain guy like me.”

  “I suppose for now we’ll have to be satisfied with you looking the part.”

  She batted her long eyelashes in that charming way that melted my bones when it came from Clara. Coming from this witch, it terrified me. I held on to my faculties, knowing that beneath all that mascara, the senator examined me as if I were a lab specimen.

  “You clean up well, Noah, and you know how to wear black tie,” she said. “You have the power look down. It’s an asset. Your mind may be lagging behind, but your style fits with my team.”

  “Your team?”

  “Okay, fine, let’s call it our team.”

  Jesus. “With all due respect, Senator, you and I could never belong on the same team.”

  “Too late now.” Her smirk was almost identical to her smile. “Clara is stuck on you and we all know how stubborn she is. Besides, look at it politically. If the United States can be friends with Germany, Japan and Vietnam, then you and I could at least manage to work together.”

  I croaked. “Work together?”

  “For Clara’s sake,” she said. “Do we have a deal?”

  My mind made a beeline for the past. I had a memory of Senator Luz, holding her pen over my recommendation like a guillotine over my neck, telling me she’d only sign it if I agreed to leave Avalon immediately. My mouth went dry. My stomach churned with the recoll
ections, fear, helplessness, defeat.

  I recalled Diana shoving me onto the ferry by the scruff of the neck and my view of Avalon Island from the back of the ferry, shrinking in the horizon like my heart in my chest. I remembered the moment in which Diana and her goons dropped me off at the projects where I lived. They dumped me on the curb as if I were nothing but trash.

  “Clara doesn’t want to see you ever again,” Diana had said. “Don’t come back. If you try, we’ll file charges and if we file charges you can kiss the Naval Academy goodbye.”

  I remembered my heart dying.

  “Noah?” The senator’s voice recalled me from the misery.

  My stare shifted between the senator and her bodyguard. If I had to put up with these two to get to Clara, then I would, but I wasn’t about to forgive and forget. “I’m in Clara’s life now. She’s my woman. I’m her man. How you choose to deal with that is your problem. But you’re on notice. I will not allow you to hurt her ever again.”

  “Dear God, Noah.” The senator’s eyes widened. “Very caveman. Very romantic too. I can see why she’d want to be with you.” She dipped her head ever so slightly.

  I really didn’t give a damn what the witch thought of me but the caveman in me was satisfied that his existence had been made known.

  The music came to a stop. The couples on the dance floor clapped. I took the senator’s elbow and walked her to the edge of the dance floor.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I said, “I have to find Clara.”

  “I’m so glad we had this little chat.” She flashed a fake smile. “Oh, and Noah?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do try to be punctual the next time,” she said. “If you plan to escort my daughter to social occasions, then the least you could do is show up on time, don’t you think?”

  “Anything for Clara,” I said.

  “Excellent.” She moved on to her next quarry, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the dance floor, wondering if I hadn’t been completely outmaneuvered by crafty Senator Luz.

  A tap on my shoulder brought me out of the twilight zone.

  “This way,” Diana said.

  I followed her through a throng of people. “What just happened back there?”

  “Senator Luz welcomed you into her family.”

  Holy shit. “Why the hell would I want to be part of her damn family?”

  “Because Clara wants you to be.” Diana’s lips twitched. “So get over it, and brace for a bumpy ride. You’re stuck with us. Now, where’s that child?”

  A truce. That’s what I had in my hands. A dangerous, uneasy stalemate of thermonuclear proportions, but a truce nonetheless.

  I peeled off from Diana and made my own way in the ballroom. I was done negotiating with terrorists. She came after me, but I wasn’t having any of that.

  “I can find Clara on my own.”

  Her yellow eyes lit on me. “I’d rather you stick with me.”

  I more or less growled. “I’m not one of your dogs to command and, last time I checked? This was a free country.”

  “Fine.” She backed off. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry about kicking you out and all.”

  It was no consolation at all.

  I stomped off, grumbling under my breath. I’d shown her as much grace as a rabid dog. After all, she’d apologized. What the hell. I’d have to talk to Dr. Dodd. My anger management skills needed work.

  I scanned the room like a Doppler radar. One by one, I acquired my targets and kept track of them. I caught sight of Clara. She stood in the far corner, talking to a stocky middle-aged man who wore his salt-and-pepper curls in a tail. I balled up my fists. I recognized the bastard. Ed Durant. He looked like a silk-wrapped turd, especially standing next to Clara.

  I knew shit about fashion, but I recognized style when I saw it. Clara looked stunning. Her hair was slicked away from her face and fastened into a simple but elegant bun. Her luscious lips were enhanced with a bright red sheen that made her mouth the most tempting target to my lips. Her dress was the kind that made you look twice. The strapless black lace gown was embroidered with a cascade of metallic flowers and showcased the straight build of her shoulders, the beauty of her clavicles and her long neck.

  I triangulated my position for optimum surveillance and found a discreet niche behind a pair of columns. It offered sweeping views of the ballroom. Making sure I had a solid wall at my back, I settled to watch and wait. I might be jaded, but Clara was, by far, the prettiest, hottest woman in the place. And her dress? Kick-ass modern. Her gown’s skirt flared into a structured, translucent lace cage that offered a tantalizing view of her long legs, made even longer by her heels.

  The cage-shaped skirt had me thinking about another cage three weeks ago, a strategic mistake I suffered immediately in the most reactive parts of my body. Crap. Now I had deal with the boner in my pants. I wanted to dive under her skirt and kiss the length of her legs all the way up to her pussy. That woman. Just the sight of her made my testosterone levels spike.

  I was trying to visualize squares and triangles instead of Clara naked in the harness, when my brain sounded an alarm. My past broke through the crowd and walked straight up to me in the form of Marine Brigadier General Selma Stephens. Talk about a night full of surprises. She came at me like an RPG. She looked as imposing as I remembered, tall, square and sturdy, tightly trimmed in her dress uniform, a mess jacket with scarlet lapels, a red cummerbund worn over a long blue skirt, and an impressive row of medals that summarized her stellar military career.

  “Noah Blake.” Her voice rustled like soles over sand. “Of all the people in the world, I never expected to find you here.”

  I snapped into a salute, even though I wasn’t in uniform. “General.”

  “At ease,” she said.

  I braced my legs apart and clasped my hands behind my back, taking in the woman who’d so suddenly barged into my life. Even after all these years, the sight of her still quickened my breath. A distinguished glint of gray hinted at her temples and a few new lines etched her forehead and cased her lips, but the changes only added character to her face. I couldn’t help but wonder how I stacked up to her scrutiny.

  “Commander,” she said, examining me critically. “I’m delighted to hear you’re still around, even if you’ve traded the uniform for a penguin suit. Civilian attire suits you. We could’ve done something with that cummerbund.” She went straight for the jugular. “Why didn’t you return my calls when I came stateside?”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” I muttered. “Been busy, ma’am.”

  “Busy, eh?” She brushed her fingers casually against my chest, picking off an invisible speck of lint from my lapel. “Busy with what?”

  “Work, ma’am,” I said, tracking Clara and Durant out of the corner of my eye.

  General Stephens was nothing if not sharp. She followed the oblique line of my gaze. “I see.” Her smile thinned her lips as she studied Clara from afar. “Can’t say I blame you. It was only a matter of time before the cub learned to hunt. How long can one keep the lion under the lamb’s skin?”

  She laughed the pure, luxurious cackles that had once stirred my blood to frenzy.

  “Well done, Noah.” Her gaze peered through the translucent lace and slid down the length of Clara’s legs. “I’m proud of you. And what a lamb she is, so exquisitely interbred with the blood of jaguars. She looks feisty, kind of like you. Humor me.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Am I in the ballpark?”

  The corners of my mouth pulled up. “Your assessment is correct, General.”

  She grinned. “If you ever crave a third, I’m game.”

  I glanced at her. “Never did like to share, ma’am.”

  “I remember.” She laughed again. “Just curious. Did you tell her about me?”

  “I gave credit wher
e credit was due, ma’am.”

  Her smile turned dazzling. “You were always such a treat. What I wouldn’t give for a few hours with you.”

  Her voice went straight to my groin. I struggled to repress the old programming. The general eyed my lap with a twinkle in her eye.

  “And still, so well trained...” she murmured under her breath.

  A Navy lieutenant approached us, squelching the old chemistry. “Excuse me, ma’am?” he said. “Admiral West would like to introduce you to the vice president.”

  “I’ll be right behind you, Lieutenant,” she said, before her eyes returned to my face.

  “General, if I may say?”

  “You may say, Noah.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “Your career appears to be heading where you wanted.”

  “The sky is the limit,” she said. “You’re looking at a Major General next month.”

  I smiled. “I’m happy for you, General.”

  “You may call me Selma, at least while you’re not in uniform...or in my bed.”

  I must’ve flinched or something, because she let out a throaty laugh. “You do know that I’m very fond of you, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” That much I knew.

  “Does she know what you were before you became who you are today?”

  “No, ma’am,” I said. “Right now, I’m exactly who she needs me to be.”

  “Oh, Noah, I do miss you.” She smiled again. “But I’m happy for you. And for her.”

  She offered her hand and I took it. The contact echoed through my body.

  “Ours is a small world.” Her fingertips rubbed against my palms. “If you’re ever in need, don’t hesitate to call.” She winked. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

  And with that, the general walked out of my life, leaving behind a gigantic footprint in my heart.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and watched her get lost in the crowd. I twisted my neck and, pulling on my elbows, stretched out my shoulders’ tension. Sometimes, I wondered if I was a sucker for powerful women or if they were the only ones willing to put up with me. Speaking of personalities, I saw my chance when Annette Collins’s companion ditched her in favor of the bar. I swooped in like an opportunistic predator.