by V. R. Marks
He ignored that. "What's your end game, Nicole? Tell me right now." He caught her wrist when she started to back away. "Have you already put something in motion?"
"How would I do that?" She tugged, but he held fast. "I didn't even know who to bait. My end game, as you put it, was simply to regain control of my future."
She wasn't lying, but he didn't think it was all of the truth. His gaze shifted between the framed photo and the brave woman who'd taken it. "Fine." He released her, guilt digging at him as she rubbed her wrist. "Sorry." There wasn't anything else to say, no explanation he could offer that would make sense to her. She called to something deep inside of him. More than the job, stronger than simple chemistry. She stirred up feelings and hopes that felt bigger and more vital than what he'd felt with his wife. How was that even possible?
He looked away from her big brown eyes and scrubbed at the stubble on his jaw. A long shower and a close shave might have him feeling and acting more civilized. Unfortunately that only put him in mind of sharing that shower with her.
"Do you know your neighbors?"
"Only vaguely. Those I've met know me as Olivia, but this place is pretty quiet at this time of year."
"Good." The last thing he wanted was collateral damage if Clifton found them here. "Where are the negatives?"
"Why don't you drive on back to the market and pick up dinner and whatever else you need. Put it on the account."
"Trying to get rid of me?"
"No, I've learned that lesson. You're starving." She pointed at him, making a circle in the air with her finger. "It's all over your face. If you want me to come along, I will."
He didn't want her out of his sight, despite the relative safety and anonymity of the campground. "I'd feel better if we stuck together."
Her easy smile flowed over him, lightening the load. No denying it, not that he wanted to. It wasn't a smart or timely move, but he'd managed to go from zero to love in less than forty-eight hours. Damn.
A stronger man might give that some analysis, but like sleep, he felt it was overrated. Rick's first priority was freeing her from the looming threat of Clifton. She wanted control of her future and he intended to see that she got what she wanted.
If he was lucky, she'd want him too.
* * *
Nicole couldn't believe the difference a meal could make. She'd kept it simple: salsa chicken and a salad, but Rick seemed to relax exponentially with every bite.
And every minute that Clifton didn't barge through the cottage door was a relief to her.
Trekking through the market together had felt almost routine as they gathered food and supplies to get them through the next few days. While he hadn't held her close to his side like their first emergency excursion, she'd felt just as tethered to him as they filled the shopping cart.
They'd gone over two hours so far without mentioning Clifton, the negatives, or anything related to her situation. The cottage had a television, but by some unspoken agreement, they hadn't turned it on.
She assumed the marshals were still searching for her and that she was still wanted for questioning in Virginia for the accusations Clifton had dumped on her head. For now she was fine with only the desperate hope that her enemy and his biker wannabe assassins were in custody.
Better that fleeting hope, than confirmation to the contrary.
When Rick insisted on doing the dishes, she excused herself and retreated to the bedroom. Sleeping arrangements would be interesting. They hadn't discussed it yet, but her body hummed with the anticipation of returning to Rick's warm embrace. She wouldn't assume he wanted to share the bed or go for an encore performance of last night's passion.
Mentally she crossed her fingers but she vowed not to make the first move. Somewhere during the day, she'd made a mistake or said the wrong thing and she couldn't get a clear read on what he wanted from her.
In a perfect world, a world where she wasn't alternately a witness and a fugitive, they would be here for a lover's getaway. They'd walk the beach holding hands, search for shells, share late dinners, and intimate early mornings.
Her gut twisted. Until now, she hadn't realized how deeply she wanted that romantic slice of life. She hadn't given much hope of finding a man who knew – and cared for – the real woman buried under the false names and dark history. But she longed for that kind of relationship. She wanted someone to lean on in good times and bad. Tears stung her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to create some good times.
With Rick.
Years of emotional distance from people gave her a certain self-awareness. She innately understood this fantasy had never been a whisper in her mind because she'd never met him. If he got her out of this, out from under Clifton, could she convince him to spend more time with her?
She distracted herself from the emotional dilemma by nudging aside the bed and area rug to access the floor safe underneath. Tipping the loose piece of flooring freed the bigger panel and revealed the combination dial on the flat gray box.
"Hey, would you like to go for a walk?"
Startled by Rick's question, she botched the combination and had to start again. "You can be very stealthy," she accused.
"It's an acquired skill."
She snorted. "I imagine you've had lots of cause to practice."
"You imagine correctly."
Her pulse kicked with the idea that her most recent imagining might come to pass, but that was for later. "Here you go." With her most professional voice she withdrew a plain white letter-sized envelope from the safe. Taking out the only other memento of her first life, she sat back and closed the safe, covering it with the flooring.
"How many renters do you think look under the bed for a missing sandal in any given summer?"
"Tens of thousands I'm sure." She laughed at his dark scowl. "Forgive me," she managed. "Lost sandals or not, no one's disturbed the safe yet."
"What if –"
Perching on the foot of the bed, she cut off his next protest with a raised hand. "When my mother and sister were killed I stopped asking that question. I did my best with the information I had and kept moving forward."
She traced the edges of the envelope with her fingertip, knowing she couldn't put it off any longer. Handing it to him she said, "See for yourself. My first year of college, I developed two prints from the negatives and eventually stored them in separate locations." She felt a swell of pride that she got all that out in a rock-steady voice. "Go ahead. Take a look."
He studied her for what felt like an eternity before slowly lifting the flap. The shock on his face relieved any lingering worry about the validity of the horrific image she'd caught that day.
"It's enough, isn't it?"
"Yes," he whispered.
She stroked the jade figurine in her hand. It was the male of a Chinese Fu dog set. Mr. Chan had given it to her along with a hefty tip for cat sitting that last spring break. Her sister had received the matching female. He'd told them the legend and the symbolism of the protective guardians and they'd placed the statues on either side of the tall bookcase they'd shared.
Rick lifted the negatives to the light and she watched his expression transform into the implacable mask she'd come to know meant he was planning something. Whatever his idea, she'd go along with it; she trusted him that much.
"Do you have a computer here?"
"No."
"All right. We can use my iPad."
"There's a small business center at the commons if you want a regular computer."
"I saw it. We might do that later," he said, holding the envelope out to her. "Put this away and let's take a walk."
"Pardon me?" How could he possibly want to blow this off? "Won't this put the nail in Clifton's coffin?" And shouldn't they do that as soon as possible?
He hooked his thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans. "Definitely." The slow curve of his lips was absolutely predatory. She felt ridiculously better in an instant.
"We could fax this to the authorities ton
ight. Or scan it and send an email."
"It's within the realm of possibility, sure. But it's a gorgeous evening. Seems a shame to waste it hanging around indoors waiting for those authorities to take action."
He had her there. She didn't want to believe their time was limited, but that was the reality and she wanted to make the most of it. She stowed the envelope once more, but set the Fu dog on the dresser as they left the bedroom.
When they were outside and the cottage locked behind them he caught her hand. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to walk with him this way on a crisp fall evening with the ocean on the breeze.
Her new flip flops slapped against her feet as they followed the trail toward the sound of the surf. "Are we out here just so you can reconnoiter or whatever it's called?"
"That's just a bonus." He made an exaggerated show of looking around in all directions, including up at the twilight sky. "I'm out here because I haven't been to the beach with a beautiful woman in ages."
She rolled her eyes, but only as a small defense against the sweet tenderness of holding his hand. "I almost offered this place to Allie when things fell apart for her."
"That would've been interesting."
"How so?"
"Ross was frustrated enough by the complexities of tailing her in Haleswood. He'd have had conniptions trying to go unnoticed around here."
"Ross?"
"My boss, owner of RC Investigations."
"Not Ross Carpenter?" She scolded herself for not putting that 'RC' together sooner. To be fair, she'd had enough of her own crap to deal with these past days.
"The same," Rick confirmed, steadying her through the deep, loose sand of the dunes that edged the beach. "Why?"
Nicole chuckled as she slipped out of her flip flops. "I can't wait to hear how that reunion goes."
"Hang on. What do you know that I don't?"
"I'm not so sure a girl ever really gets over her first love." She snickered when he just stared at her, mouth agape. "Come on. You didn't know they had a history?"
"The boss keeps his private life private."
"Men," she muttered. Clearly Rick was rehashing some of his old memories while they wandered down the beach. She wished she'd brought her camera along. Even in the low light, his square jaw stood out like sculptured marble.
She wanted to touch him, to trace those strong angles with her finger and feel the rough whiskers against her skin. The intensity of her attraction scared her and she forced her gaze to a raucous flock of seagulls partying in a puddle left by the outgoing tide.
"What about your first love?"
Nicole ignored the question as long as possible, but lifted her gaze to his when he squeezed her hand. She suspected she was staring up into the eyes of her first love and her previous comment would prove as true for her as it had for her friend. Rick wasn't a man she'd forget.
"Clifton interrupted that." She kept her voice light. "I had a crush on a guy that summer, but he didn't see past my camera. Then I got swept away by WITSEC and making friends seemed like a risky proposition, forget about boyfriends."
"Then who did you think about when you were posing as Nick?"
"Just because I haven't been in love," until now, she amended silently, "doesn't mean I wasn't infatuated by the unattainable guys in school."
"Who would've been out of your league?"
She popped him lightly in the shoulder. "Stop it. Flattery isn't necessary."
"I'm serious. I bet all the boys were terrified of you."
"You've got a rich fantasy life."
"Well, that's true too, but don't change the subject."
She blushed at the unspoken promise in his words and felt the heat rush all the way from her ears to her toes.
She was saved from a response by a big golden retriever racing into the flock of seagulls and sending them skyward in a comical symphony of barking and raucous calling. "The owner's dog," she explained to Rick. "He's an absolute love."
"Loves to cause riots at least."
She smiled as the dog detoured toward them. "Only out here and only when it's not crowded." Kneeling, she exchanged kisses with the big guy. "It's amazing that he remembers me."
"Maybe you're his first love," Rick said, rubbing the dog's ears.
"You're not nearly as funny as you think." They waved as the dog turned at the owner's call and raced back down the beach.
Rick was staring at the sky. "When I was in high school, we used to get together for a bonfire at the beach after the last home football game of the season."
"I bet the girls were all over you."
"Oh?"
"The jaw, the serious eyes." The shoulders, but she kept that to herself. "Don't tell me the girls didn't follow you around like lost puppies."
"Maybe. But I only had eyes for one."
"Did she return your affections or do you pine for her still," Nicole teased, clutching her clasped hands over her heart.
"Both. I suppose. I married her."
Before the words left his mouth, she knew she'd crossed a line. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up old pains."
"You didn't. Truth is it doesn't hurt so much anymore."
The intensity in his eyes stole her breath. The message was up for interpretation, but she got the impression he meant his feelings were different because of her. Maybe that's just what she wanted to believe. Unsure what to say, uncertain she could form a reply, she waited for him to elaborate.
"Don't get me wrong. I loved her with everything I had. Still love what we had when we had it. But my job kept us apart more than any newlyweds should be."
Her heart ached for him.
He turned to the horizon and raised a finger toward the bright point of a star. "Will you make a wish?"
Only for him. "Maybe."
"I dare you." There was a spark in his gaze and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned.
"How will you know? I can't tell you or it won't come true."
"That's only for birthday candle wishes."
"It's for all wishes," she said.
"Is not."
"Is so." She'd never had such a silly debate in her life. At least not since before WITSEC. It was gloriously normal. Immediately, she gazed up at the star and wished for a lifetime of nights like this one. "Did you make a wish?"
His eyes locked with hers, then drifted down to her lips. "I did."
She shivered and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, turning back toward the campground.
"Thank you. This was a good idea."
"I have them occasionally."
"Hmm. That sounds like a clear invitation to ask about your ideas for trapping Clifton."
"We don't have to get into it right now," he said as they crossed the sand dunes again. "I don't imagine he'll find us before tomorrow."
"I haven't told anyone where we are, or where we were headed. Have you?"
"Of course not. I actually told Eva I was taking you back to the marshals."
"Wow."
"Still, the license plate on the truck is registered to Bart and Clifton knows about Bart. And my phone's in pieces, just in case someone circumnavigated Eva's firewalls at the office."
She had no idea what to say to that revelation. It was a smart move considering Clifton had proven terrifyingly resourceful in the past.
"So… we're alone?" Nerves and doubts reared up. Rick had training and skills. She had an eye for composition and couldn't see how she'd be much help to him.
He stopped her in a puddle of shadows between streetlights that glowed periodically along the path. "No. We're together."
Her doubts faded under his conviction and her body came to life as he embraced her. Pulse jumping, she tipped up her face for his kiss.
* * *
Rick gazed down at her full lips and took his time meeting them. She embodied his every temptation, but he wanted more than the flash and heat this time. He wanted her to feel what he felt, to treasure their connection like
he did.
Her lips parted and his tongue swept over hers and tenderness gave way to need. Hours might have passed, he was so lost in her, heedless of time and place, and he wanted to string this out indefinitely.
Taking the kiss deeper, he drew her closer, molding her body to his, and letting her feel his intense reaction. Her soft moan nearly undid him.
The wind gusted and a pine branch creaked overhead. His instincts pricked, he broke the kiss. "We should get inside." Though he didn't feel any imminent threat, simple logic demanded that he remember what brought them here. A dangerous man wanted her dead.
The cool night did nothing to mute his need for her, but when they were safely in the cottage, she grew skittish and retreated to the small kitchen.
"Would you like a beer?"
"No, thanks." He thought he'd made it clear he wanted her. "What's the matter, Nicole?"
She fidgeted with the bottle opener she didn't need. "We, umm, didn't discuss sleeping arrangements."
In his mind they could work out who preferred which side of the bed later, but he had no intention of letting her sleep alone. "You're tired?" He closed the distance and trapped her in the corner, his arms braced on the counter top on either side of her hips.
"No. Not particularly."
"Neither am I." He placed a kiss on the soft skin of her slender throat. "Want me to leave you alone?"
"Shouldn't we talk about your plan?" Her head fell back, giving him better access and he took full advantage until her arms came around his waist.
"Tomorrow's soon enough. Let's take tonight for us." He boosted her into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. They could work out the sleeping part later.
Chapter 13
Nicole wasn't sure she'd ever breathe normally again. Her heart still pounded and barring an emergency, she didn't think she'd be able to move anytime soon. She'd kept her vow not to make the first move and discovered Rick had some seriously persuasive and delicious moves in his arsenal.
What they'd just shared defied a definition. Last night had been more than spontaneous combustion, she recognized that, but tonight had carried her further into the unknown.