She sighed. “No…not Tal. Dreaming again.” Tears trickled from beneath her closed lids. “Want it too much…”
His throat constricted with love and longing. Oh, how he understood that, and he knew what she needed now—because he needed it, needed it more than his next breath. Letting go of her hand, and drinking in her tiny cry of loss, he lifted her in his arms, cradling her like a newborn and just as infinitely precious to him. “Touch me, kid,” he murmured huskily. “I’m really here. I’m not going anywhere again without you.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him smiling at her. A slow, shaking hand touched his face, cupping it in her palm as though he was a priceless treasure. “Tal?” she cried softly, her gaze filled with a joy so intense, his whole body seized up with love. “Is it really you?”
“Yeah, it’s really me.” He kissed her mouth with all the tenderness he could give her.
Her head fell to his shoulder. “You came to me, Tal,” she sighed. “You finally came for me…”
“Yeah,” he muttered gruffly. “I came for you, honey.” Even if it was a few months too late. He felt like slamming his own head against a convenient brick wall. He took full blame for the state she was in, but she didn’t need his self-recrimination. She needed him to be strong for her, and by God, he’d hold it together. “You’ll be better soon. I’ll take care of you.”
Flashing lights recalled him to where they were.
He turned his head to see the gaping Verity West entourage, whoever the hell they all were—and the press taking shot after ecstatic shot of them. And he lost it. “That does it.” Keeping her in his arms, he snatched up her bag and coat and headed for the exit. “Move,” he growled at the hovering people in a tone that brooked no denial. “Get out of the bloody way, I said!”
“Where are you taking Miss West? She has a show tomorrow night! It’s her closing night!” a yapping guy in a monkey suit kept saying over and over.
He looked at the silly jerk over his shoulder. “So sue me for your losses. I’ll foot the bill—but she isn’t singing again until she’s well.”
“But I have my reputation to consider! Miss West wouldn’t want this—she never lets anyone down. She’s just tired, I’m sure. Tell her I need her here tomorrow night—it’s her closing night, and there’s so many important people—”
Tal just kept walking, ignoring the cameras, the questions. He said one word, and that only when someone shoved a mike or camera in his face, or stepped in front of him.
“Move!”
Finally they reached the waiting Nighthawk limo. He slid in with slow care, still cradling her against his heart…and he wasn’t planning on putting her down for a long, long time.
Her cell phone started ringing. He fumbled in her bag, found it. Her manager’s name flashed on the screen. He disconnected it, but it rang again within seconds. Now the name of the theater manager came up. Moments later, it was someone else—her personal assistant, he thought.
He opened the window and threw the damn phone out of the car with an awkward backhanded toss, so as not to disturb her. He watched it bounce on the road and smash with no remorse at all.
“You’ll be fine now, kid,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you. I won’t let them get to you.”
She stirred in his arms, looked up and frowned, fighting sleep. “Why have you got that goop on your face again? You hate it. Makes you itch.”
He fought laughter and tears at once. So typical of her to notice, even when she was exhausted, and want to fix it for him. “For you, kid. I had to face the cameras to get you.”
Her frown deepened; she looked bewildered. “So?” Her hand fluttered up, ineffectually rubbing at it. “Take it off.”
His heart almost burst then. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off as much as he could. “Is that better?”
She touched hot, trembling lips to the almost-faded scars. “Yes. It’s you. Just as you are. My Tal.” She sighed and snuggled back into him. “Take me home, Tal…please…”
He choked down the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re on your way, Mary-Anne. You’re coming home.”
“With you, Tal?” she whispered, falling back into sleep. “Can I stay with you for a little while? Please?”
Hold it in. Hold it in…
A single tear fell onto her forehead. He wiped it off with a tender finger. He was a jerk, a tongue-tied fool totally unworthy of her—but for a reason he’d never be able to fathom, she loved him. She loved him and she needed him, and he’d damn well be there for her—for the rest of her life. And he’d tell her he loved her every day—and he’d thank God every day for the rest of his life for that single miracle, the priceless gift of her love. “Yes, baby,” he muttered gruffly, holding it all in. “You’re coming home with me.”
Chapter 20
She was in her beloved Eden…
As soon as he thought she was fit to travel, he’d bundled her into the Nighthawks’ jet and brought her home. Her feet never touched the ground. He’d carried her like a child, stalking past rabid photographers and screaming journalists without a word.
And now she was home at last. Home with Tal.
The dream of a lifetime had finally come true. For the past five days she’d woken up in Eden, Tal lying beside her in the bed, softly snoring. Her billabong was clearly visible from their bedroom window, shimmering in tranquil beauty beside its single old, twisted tree and the wildflowers that were really weeds, but so natural and lovely to her.
She was home, home with her Tal in her beautiful Cowinda.
The families finally knew about Tal’s accident. Uncle Dal and Aunt Sheila had done their crying—tears of shame for not being there for their son, for making him feel responsible for their happiness because of Kathy’s death.
Now they were determined to be there for Tal—and for her, too. Along with her parents and half the town, they spent every day patrolling Cowinda for strangers, and directing them away from where Mary-Anne and Tal were. They were getting the honeymoon snatched from them in Amalza.
Aunt Sheila and Mum cosseted them, fed them, made sure they rested, walked and had privacy when they needed it. Aunt Sheila and Uncle Dal were even bunking with Mum and Dad for the week, until Tal had to go back to work—to his ship, as they thought.
She’d never felt so contented, so blessed or so loved in her life.
“Come on, honey—it’s your favorite. Chocolate mousse,” Tal coaxed her now with a crooked half smile on his face, as they sat at the old, cracked dining table in the eat-in kitchen. “You didn’t eat much lunch. Aren’t you just a little bit hungry?”
Instead of looking at the dessert, she watched him smiling at her, and she caught her breath. For five days he’d controlled himself to the max, only holding her at night, determined to feed her, make her rest and nurse her back to health…and while she could feel her body gaining strength every day, she could also feel the yearning for completion, to have him inside her once again, building up to a crescendo. “Yes, I’m hungry,” she said softly, her gaze on his eyes, his mouth. “But chocolate mousse isn’t really my favorite anymore.”
The disappointment on his face gave her a little pang. “What do you want? If it’s not too fancy, I can get it…”
“You can easily get it.” She let her gaze travel along his body. “You gave it to me all the time in Amalza, and I’ve been dying to taste some more of it.”
He groaned and closed his eyes. “I’m trying so hard not to think about that, honey. I want to make you well here.”
“Then make me well.” She leaned forward, parting her lips. “I’m sure I’ll be a lot hungrier if you make me happy. Touch me, Tal. Kiss me. Heal me.”
“I want you to eat!” But his voice, rasping with need, told her he was sinking, and he knew it, too.
“I want to play.” She nuzzled his lips; then a slow smile curved her mouth. “I know. We’ll compromise.” She dipped her index finger in the mousse. “I eat, you
kiss me. Deal?”
“Huh?” He was too busy watching her slowly licking the mousse from her finger. “What?”
A thrill of hot excitement rippled through her whole body. Feeling wicked and wanton, she dipped her finger in the rich chocolate again, and with teasing deliberation, smeared it across his mouth. “Yum,” she whispered, and gently licked and sucked the dessert away. “I ate,” she announced, smiling, her body thudding with delicious need. “You have to kiss me now.”
“That’s cheating, woman,” he growled, but he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, deep, hot and edged in male need.
She bit down on her smile. Oh, yeah, her Irish lover was hard, primed and ready for action. “I never promised to play fair,” she murmured, aching. “I just promised to play.” She dipped her finger in the dessert again…and this time she smeared it across his throat. “Oh, yum,” she whispered again. “Yeah, I’m definitely getting hungry now.” She nibbled it away, smothering his throat in slow, hot kisses. Then she looked up into his eyes, knowing hers were fiery with the desire she didn’t want to deny. “Take your shirt off.”
His eyes mirroring hers for raw sexuality, he stripped off his shirt, revealing his strong, golden-brown chest with rippling muscles. The sight made the fire flickering inside her crank up to a furnace. She felt him watching her as she first smeared, then licked and nibbled the mousse from his chest, with special attention to his flat nipples. “Hmm…” She twisted so that she straddled him, wriggling against his arousal, filled with an anguished pleasure-pain, aching to have him inside her. “Chocolate mousse is definitely my favorite on this plate.”
“I’ll keep our fridge stocked,” he groaned, his hands in her hair to keep her there. “Yes, honey, that’s so good…”
Sudden emotion swamped her as she kissed him over his thundering heart. “I love you, Tal.”
He lifted her face, his eyes dark, warm, soft. “I love you, too.” Without warning he moved her leg over and scooped her up in his arms. “Get that mousse, kid. Ve haf vays of making you eat,” he uttered in an atrocious German accent, “and I remember getting distinct permission to play connect-the-dots.”
She laughed and snatched up the bowl as he carried her to the bedroom.
“That’s it. Go. Go!”
Mary-Anne watched from the single row of bleachers as the new recruits raced for the “patient” rimmed by a ring of fire in the simulated battlefield. Holding pure wool blankets in front of them as fire shields, they wrapped the blankets around their bodies to go inside the fire to save the patient.
A massive buzz, buzz filled the air as Tal called the exercise to a halt. “Recall!”
The recruits fell in line, facing Tal. “Someone tell me why I did that!” he snapped.
Everyone looked at one man, who reddened, his face half-defiant, half-embarrassed. “Jackaroo didn’t go in with a partner, sir!” one of the men yelled—Farmboy or Rodeo, she wasn’t sure. All the men here were full Nighthawks, they had their code names now, ready for their first field assignments. “Never enter a life-threatening rescue op without backup, sir!”
“If you’re injured you can’t save the patient! Patient is always our first priority, sir!”
Tal nodded. “Jackaroo. Out on the bleachers until you decide to stop playing cowboy and work as a team member!”
His face sulky, Jackaroo sat out beside Mary-Anne. “Control freak,” he muttered, kicking at the dirt with his steel-capped foot. “Perfectionist. I just wanted to try—”
“Irish is a perfectionist for your sake,” she said gently. She had no idea why Tal had brought her here, or why Nick had given permission to show her all aspects of the new training program, but she reveled in being back. It was as though she’d come home again. “You don’t know what it’s like out there. You don’t want to live with regrets if your innovations don’t work.”
Startled, he turned to look at her. “Pardon me, Mrs. Irish, ma’am. I didn’t mean to pick on your husband, ma’am.”
She grinned. “Mrs. Irish” was the only name the recruits knew her by, and they knew she was a former operative, but if they knew she was Verity West with her now shorter hair up in a pigtail, wearing jeans, T-shirt, her glasses and no makeup, they didn’t show it. “He’s hard on you because it’s vital on the field to be an unquestioning member of the team. One mistake can end in death. I mostly did undercover work, but I was on assignment with him earlier this year.”
“You—oh, sh— I mean, you’re Songbird, aren’t you, ma’am?” He kept gulping between words. “We’ve all heard about you. You’re a legend around the lockers. People still talk about the things you did on assignment, and—you’re Verity West!”
She lifted a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell everyone. Irish and Ghost wouldn’t appreciate it. I only told you so you understand that I do know what I’m talking about. Irish is right about cowboys. Until you can prove you’re a member of the team, they won’t let you on assignment…and you’ll never be a commander. And if you get out there and think you can do things differently, you might survive—but someone else might pay for your decision with their life. Is that what you want?”
Slowly he shook his head. “You’re right, ma’am.” He sounded humble, awkward, embarrassed. “I won’t do it again, ma’am.”
That night at Tal’s farm on the southwestern slopes of Canberra, lying twined together in the afterglow of loving, she sighed. “You’re doing an amazing job with the recruits, Tal. The simultaneous training can’t be easy on them, or on you, especially when everyone else is out on assignment, like now.”
He chuckled. “I love it, to be honest. Jackaroo’s right. I am a control freak. I like running the office and the training program without interference from the others.” He hesitated. “You could help me, though.”
She frowned. “How? I’m not an operative anymore.” A pang ripped through her once more—the sense of identity lost.
“You could be again, Mary-Anne.”
“What?” She stared up at him. “But…my cover is gone…”
“It would be different work this time.” Obviously nervous, he paused again. “It’d be nothing like your old work.”
“Well?” she asked, impatient to hear it. Being a Nighthawk again—just the thought of coming back made her burn inside with anticipation, with joy. “Tal, tell me!”
He sighed. “I don’t know how you’ll take this, so bear with me, okay?” He gently disengaged himself from her arms and sat up, not looking at her. “I can train the doctors, the medics. I can do the on-field discipline. But we need nurses: nurses with guts and the dedication to work in extremely tough situations without complaint.” He turned to her. “We need someone to train them, not in nursing techniques, but in how to cope with the worst conditions. We need a qualified Nighthawk nurse to show them how to make do with whatever we face at the time and to improvise with equipment. How to assist while the doctor or medic is operating on a cliff wall or deep in enemy territory—or how to operate themselves, and how to go down that cliff, too, to rescue people if they have to.”
Her excitement grew with every word he said. Oh, this was something she could do, something she’d love to do. No more undercover work, no theft, no playing the siren. This wasn’t Verity West’s work—this was Mary-Anne’s. She bounced up in the bed. “I’d need to take refresher courses, both in surgical nursing and in fieldwork. You’d have to teach me a lot I don’t know.” She twisted around and grabbed his hands. “Can you teach me how to rappel, and how to cope behind enemy lines? I’d need a lot of help before I could train anyone…”
“That’s what I’m here for.” His grin seemed fair to split his face. “I gather you want the assignment?”
“Of course I do! You don’t know how much I’ve missed this, Tal. I’m aching to be a part of things again. And this is something I can do!”
“You’ll be perfect for the job.” He squeezed her hands. “But think carefully, kid—because this would mean giving up Verity
West. You couldn’t do both anymore. For the safety of other operatives, you’d have to fade into obscurity.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I haven’t liked being Verity West for a long time,” she said quietly. “Not since Gil died. I tried so hard to cope with it all, but the only way was by being the Iceberg. Until Nick asked me to join the Nighthawks, I didn’t know what else to do with my life. Nursing didn’t seem an option when everyone knew who I was. I didn’t particularly like what Nick asked me to do, but I felt it had a higher purpose, so I did it.” She smiled up at him. “Then I was on assignment with you and I felt, for the first time in a long time, that I was where I was meant to be. I wasn’t only a thief or a distraction or a sexual attraction. I worked on the field. I helped you save lives. And I loved every minute of it. Then my cover blew and it was over, and I didn’t know what else to do but to go back to the old life.” She sat beside him, legs dangling over the bed. “None of it made sense to me, Tal. I didn’t know why I was there anymore. I just kept going, kept working, and crying every night until you came to me.” Suddenly she bounced on the bed. “I can’t believe I’m coming back! I’m so happy!”
“What about your commitments with that life?”
She shrugged. “I’d just finished making Blue Straits when I started our assignment. My contract stated I must make three albums in five years, and I have. I’ve done the tours. I’m free.” She turned her face to him, awed. “I’m free,” she whispered. “I don’t have to sign the new contract. I can walk away.”
“And you’re sure you want to? You won’t regret it?”
She laughed at his serious face. “You dork!” She dived on him, wrestling him backward on the bed, tickling him. “What do you think? I get a job I love, I get peace and quiet, and I get to be a Nighthawk again. What’s not to like?”
Can You Forget? Page 24