Face of Deception

by Ana Leigh

  His words stung her pride as much as her heart. Aside from Brandon, Mike had become the most important person in her life—and all she was to him was a headache.

  “I’m sorry, Mike, but with each of my conversations with Brandon he’d grown more miserable. I couldn’t wait any longer for anyone to try and locate Charles Breton. He must have met the same fate as Clayton. You know that as well as I do. In the meantime, Brandon’s the one who’s suffering.”

  “So the kid’s unhappy right now. He’ll get over it.”

  “Mike, he’s only six years old. He doesn’t understand any of what’s happening.”

  “And you’re twenty-eight, and apparently you don’t, either. How do I get through to you that he’d be suffering a lot more if Dave and I would have arrived in Kourou a few minutes later than we did? Whoever’s behind this has got a lot of connections, Ann. One of these times he’s going to get lucky. If you don’t have sense enough to grasp take the necessary precautions then we’re wasting our time trying to keep you alive.”

  “If so, then it would be my fault. Certainly not yours.”

  He lashed out with bridled fury. “It will be mine if it happens on my watch!”

  “That’s the real issue here, isn’t it, Mike? You mustn’t besmirch that gung-ho reputation of yours. Mike Bishop the consummate warrior. God-and-Country Bishop. Americans can sleep peacefully at night knowing Mike Bishop and his Dwarf Squad are watching over them.”

  His lips were thinned in anger and his hostile glare drilled into her. “What do you want from me, Ann? All I’m doing is trying to keep you alive.”

  “And you don’t try to see beyond the mission. You don’t see the desperation in the woman or the heartache in the little boy you’re dealing with. People don’t have faces or feelings to you. Only names. And even then you prefer to strip them of that dignity by giving them code names: Snow White, Boy Blue, Prince Charming. That makes it even easier for you to remain emotionally uninvolved, doesn’t it?”

  “Who told you those names?”

  “You must think I’m a total idiot! I’ve overheard you and the squad talking, Grumpy,” she said, deliberately using his code name. “It’s not difficult to put the pieces together. Dave is Doc. Kurt is Sneezy, Don is Dopey. Williams is Happy and Bledsoe is Sleepy. Baker is obviously Prince Charming because while you were talking to Mr. Waterman you referred to Prince Charming as returning to duty the same time as your squad.”

  Smile lines crept from the corners of his eyes as anger filtered into amusement in another of his sudden mood changes. “Not so, Snow White. Williams is Sleepy and Bledsoe is Happy.”

  “Big deal! What sense is there to those stupid names? If I can figure them out anyone can.”

  “Normally we deal with people who don’t have as close a relationship with the squad as you do. That’s why a code name is used to designate an individual without revealing the person’s real identity.”

  “More of the juvenile-boy games you men have to play. It ranks right up there with making out in the back seat of automobiles.”

  “Is your mind always on sex, Hamilton?”

  He was laughing at her! Her anger rose off the Richter scale. Somehow their roles had reversed. Her intention to thwart his irritation with reasoning had resulted, instead, in raising her ire and amusing him. He did this to her all the time.

  She took a deep breath, and then said calmly. “Mike, my concern for Brandon is the only reason I’d ever break my word to you. And whether you agree or not, I felt it had to be done.”

  She turned and went outside.

  Mike moved to the window and watched her walk away. Why was he so hard on her? He understood where she was coming from. He’d do the same thing in her position. So why couldn’t he be more patient with her?

  Because he was scared, that’s why. Scared something would to her. That he’d fail to protect her. But she was wrong about something: it had nothing to do with his reputation. He was damn scared for her. Whoever was behind this rotten situation had connections all over the place. There was no place they could go—no place he could take her—that they wouldn’t eventually be discovered.

  No place he could keep her safe.

  There was a lot he’d like to say to her. She had grit and courage. He really admired those traits—if only she’d stop self-destructing. And he sure as hell wanted her physically. The need for her had been chewing on his groin from the first time he looked at her. Now it had become more than just chemistry between a man and woman. His emotions had crept into it, too, and he knew the moment he touched her it’d be curtains for sure. He had to hold on to his objectivity. Not foul up his mind with personal feelings, because the only hope he had to keep her alive was to stay one step ahead of whoever was after her.

  Against his better judgment he’d lowered his guard and made the mistake of agreeing to let her go back to work. Well, he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  His gaze followed her as she sat down on the end of the pier. If anybody was going to get to her it sure as hell would have to be through him, because from now on he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight 24/7. She might end up hating the sight of him…but he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Chapter 21

  Ann was still sitting on the end of the pier when Mike came outside. “Let’s go. I have to go to town.”

  “Can’t I stay here?”

  “No!” He hadn’t intended to sound so abrupt, but it came out that way. Grinning, he softened his tone. “Besides, there must be some items you need. My cabin isn’t equipped for female occupancy.” As he clasped her hand and pulled her to her feet, Mike felt a powerful surge of sensation from the warmth of her touch. Without intent, he held its softness longer than necessary, and she pulled her hand away.

  “I’m tired, Mike. I’d much rather stay here and rest.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to rest when we get back.”

  He unlocked the shed and wheeled out a motorcycle. “Here, put this on,” he said, handing her a helmet.

  Her eyes widened with shock. “You expect me to ride on that?”

  “You ever ride on the back of a bike before?”

  “I’m proud to say I haven’t, and I don’t intend to start now.” She shoved the helmet into his hands and spun on her heel to walk away. His hand gripped her arm before she could even take a step.

  “Hamilton, don’t give me an argument. You’ve done enough damage for one day. I have to go to town, and I’m not leaving you alone.”

  She expelled a deep sigh and turned to face him. “I hate motorcycles. They scare me, Mike. They’re loud and dangerous.”

  “Did you ever ride a bicycle, Ann?”

  “When I was young.”

  “Well they’re easier and safer than riding a bicycle. And they’re not dangerous if you obey the rules of the road and don’t try to be another Evel Knievel.”

  He put the helmet on her head and tightened the strap under her chin. Then he mounted the seat. “Climb on.”

  The seat narrowed to a small pad at the rear. With reservation she straddled it. “What do I hold on to?”

  “Me,” he said. She grabbed him around the waist when he revved up the motor, and they took off.

  The narrow road leading to his cabin was bumpy and unpaved, and she clung to him. Once they reached the highway, the five-mile ride into town was smooth.

  She couldn’t believe the number of people in the quaint town. Rhinelander was a popular resort area and was swarming with tourists. Mike spent a few minutes talking to the garage mechanic, then he took her hand and they faded inconspicuously into the crowd.

  They went into a pharmacy so he could call Waterman. As much as she yearned to call Brandon, Mike had forbidden her to make any contact with the boy. Her heart ached thinking of the child’s unhappiness and knew he’d be more miserable than ever when he didn’t hear from her.

  As she waited for Mike to finish his call, Ann bought a half dozen hygiene articles, d
ecided she might as well put her idle time to use by taking pictures and bought several more rolls of film and flash bulbs.

  “All set?” Mike asked when he rejoined her.

  “I could use a swimming suit. That lake looked very inviting.”

  “Okay, but make it quick.”

  They ducked into one of the many souvenir shops and the only one she could find in her size was a blue bikini. It was skimpier than she’d normally wear, but with Mike waiting impatiently she knew it would have to be this one or none at all.

  When they returned to the garage, the black shiny motorcycle was loaded on the back of a beat-up old pick-up truck that looked like something out of The Grapes of Wrath.

  “Yours?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Comes in handy when I need it. I garage it here when I’m gone.”

  He opened the front door of the cab. “Your carriage awaits, madam.”

  She snapped her finger. “Darn! Just when I was looking forward to bouncing around on the back of that motorcycle again.”

  “You want bounce, lady. Just wait. The shocks are really shot on this truck. I’ve been meaning to have them replaced.”

  “You’re so good to me, Bishop.” She climbed in, and he had to slam the door several times to get it to stay closed. Remarkably, the door didn’t fall off.

  Much to her surprise, the engine turned over and purred contentedly as soon as he turned on the ignition.

  Mike smiled smugly. “You see. Never judge a book by its cover, Hamilton. I can push this baby up to 110 if I have to.”

  “No doubt, Bishop. But the tires fall off then, right?”

  “Lady, that’s so not so.” He shifted into gear, and the truck rolled smoothly down the road.

  “What about groceries?” she asked.

  “Cassidy took care of that earlier, but if you want, we can run through the store and check it out.”

  “I want,” she said. Anything was better than going back to that cabin. Right now they were getting along well, but there was a lot of daylight remaining, and based on past experience she knew that when left on their own it invariably led to another argument.

  Ann glanced askance at him. “Dare I ask where Cassidy went?”

  “Can’t stop you from asking.”

  By now she’d come to learn that kind of answer was the only one she was going to get. He was so predictable.

  They stopped at a supermarket, and Ann went up and down each aisle selecting an item here and there. Mike pushed the cart and would occasionally toss an item into the basket.

  “We’re not going to be at the cabin long enough to eat all this,” he grumbled when they left the store loaded down with two heaping bags full of groceries. “Dave loaded us up pretty good earlier.”

  “We didn’t buy that many perishables. You can always store the rest for next time.”

  “If there is a next time.”

  The comment was too portentous to ignore. For a short time she had actually forgotten about the situation they were in.

  Welcome back to the real world, Ann.

  “Are you paranoid, Mike?” she asked, trying to avoid hitting her head against the cab’s roof as they bounced back to the cabin.

  He threw her a quick glance. “Why do you ask?”

  “Every time we go somewhere we start out in one vehicle and return in a different one. In Kourou we used several different ones. In England we rode in a limo and a Ferrari. Today we left the cabin in a motorcycle and are returning in a broken-down pick-up truck. Does this pattern have something to do with your choice of professions?”

  He laughed. “I’m told that variety is the spice of life.”

  “Yes, but you take it to a new high.”

  “Be honest, Hamilton. You’re just disappointed because you didn’t get to ride back on the bike.”

  “That, too,” she said. They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  She felt good. Indeed, the whole mood between them had changed. They both relaxed, and as soon as they unpacked the groceries, Mike suggested a swim.

  The suit she had purchased was even more revealing than she had thought. The skimpy pants called for a knot on each side to keep them on. The top was nothing more than a narrow strip that knotted in back to keep it in place. How one could swim in it without dislodging either piece would be a challenge, but she was determined to try. Trouble was, she couldn’t reach to tie a secure knot behind her back, and she’d have to get Mike’s help.

  He had changed into swimming trunks and was waiting on the pier.

  “Will you help me with this?” she asked, clutching the top of the bikini across her breasts.

  He took one look at her and gaped. “Wow!”

  She felt herself actually blush under the appreciative gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “You’re going to be adult about this, aren’t you, Mike? I would very much like to have a pleasant swim.”

  “I’ll try, Hamilton, to be very adult. But it’s sure going to be hard.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” she said in amusement with a quick glance at the bulge in his trunks. “Just tie this for me then you can jump in the lake and cool off.”

  “Well, this is a twist,” he said as he knotted the ends of the bikini top.

  No doubt it was. He more then likely was used to untying a woman’s top rather than tying one. Since the conversation was getting a little risqué, she thought it wiser to play dumb and innocent.

  “No, don’t twist the ends, Mike. Tie them together in a knot.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, lady, but my hands are shaking. You knock the legs out from under a guy. You’ve got one great face and body, Hamilton. You should be in front of the camera, not behind it.”

  “I can say the same about you, Mike. You’d make a great model, and could probably make a lot more money than what you’re getting now. And less risky, too—you’d only have to fight off sex-crazed females. Think it over, Mike.” She dove into the water.

  It felt good to strike out and work the muscles in her arms and legs. She’d always been a good swimmer. Had swum competitively in high school and college. But even though Mike slowed his strokes, she couldn’t keep up with the ex-Navy SEAL who was as at home in the water as he was on land. After several rigorous laps, she settled back to just romping and splashing like a child in the refreshing water.

  She finally got out and lay down on the pier to dry off. Mike climbed out and stretched out on his stomach beside her with his head resting on his folded arms.

  “That felt good,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s beautiful up here, Mike. How long have you had this place?”

  “About ten years.”

  “Why here.”

  “My Dad was RA until he joined the CIA and—”

  “RA?” she asked.

  “Regular army. He was a professional soldier so we lived in a lot of different bases and countries. But whenever my folks had the chance, we’d come to vacation in this area. Dad joined the CIA when I was sixteen, and then we never came back after that. But I couldn’t get the place out of my mind. Guess I’ve come to think of this area as my roots even though I was born in Milwaukee.”

  “Must be because the area holds pleasant memories for you.”

  “Guess it does. It sure did for Mom. Dad was all hers up here. Not the army’s. And he was Dad to me, not Captain Bishop.”

  “Did you resent his military career, Mike?”

  “Guess I did at the time. As I grew older, I came to see it through different eyes. I’m proud of him. He devoted his adult life to serving his country.”

  She wished she had her camera at that moment to catch the look of pride in his eyes when he spoke of his father.

  She had so misjudged him in the past. Mike was really a very remarkable individual. He had the character to turn around what obviously had been childhood resentment toward his father—which very well could have destroyed his own adult life if he’d allowed himself to o
bsess on it—into a sense of pride, honor and love of country that drove him to follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “Isn’t it rather secluded for someone who lives in the fast lane like you?”

  “Seclusion’s good,” he said.

  “Did you ever think about marriage? A family?”

  “Yeah, I thought about it—thought what a bad idea it would be.”

  “I don’t think you’re as cynical as you’d like people to believe.”

  “Don’t go soft on me, Hamilton. You’ve just seen the tip of the iceberg.”

  “So you’ve said. Is that your standard reply to frighten off women?”

  “What do you think?”

  The conversation was going down a dangerous road. She stood up. “I think I’m thirsty. Should I bring you something?”

  “Yeah, a beer.”

  When she came back, he had fallen asleep. She looked at him stretched out on the pier. He had such a beautifully developed body that she couldn’t resist looking at him. Broad shoulders, slim hips and long, muscular legs. His flesh was firm. Muscular and firm. Not the overdeveloped corded muscles and physique of the muscle-bound apes who competed for titles. Mike’s physique reflected a man who used his muscles, not merely displayed them.

  She hurried back into the house and grabbed her camera.

  Ann had only taken a half dozen pictures when he raised his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I couldn’t resist all that bronzed brawn, Bishop.”

  “I told you, no pictures.”

  “Come on, Mike. Let me take a few. I’m willing to pay you for posing.”

  “There’s not enough money, lady. In my business, anonymity is the best weapon. I don’t need my face plastered all over some damn magazine.”

  “But it’s such a beautiful face, Mike. I promise I won’t use them professionally. I’ll just keep a couple.”

  “What for?”

  That sounded a little encouraging. Maybe he was breaking down. “To remember you by. So how about it, Mike?”

  “Fair enough, if you’ll let me take a few of you.”