Don't Say a Word

by Barbara Freethy

  It was such a practical question, she had to smile. "I am hungry."

  "They look like they have a pretty good menu. Steak, fish, salad. What's your pleasure?"

  "Cheeseburger, french fries, and a chocolate milk shake. Oh, and maybe a salad, too, so I don't feel totally guilty."

  He gave her a knowing grin. "That's exactly what I order every time I come home. It always makes me feel like my life is back to normal."

  "I have a feeling it will take more than a cheeseburger to make me feel that way, but at least it's a start."

  While Alex was ordering, Julia rose from the bed and got dressed.

  "I liked you better naked," Alex said as he hung up the phone.

  His wicked grin was completely lethal. She almost God he really was coming back. That would always felt like stripping down for him again—almost. After be the problem with Alex, she realized. She'd never a day of shocking revelations, her brain was beginning be sure how long he would stay or if he'd return. But to work again. And she needed to start thinking about how could she complain? If she'd wanted a man who her current situation and what she was going to do never left, she wouldn't have broken up with Michael, about it.

  "Back to work, huh?'" Alex asked, obviously reading her mind.

  "Is your laptop still in the car?"

  Alex glanced around the room. "It must be. You distracted me so much, I forgot to bring it in."

  "We need to make plane reservations for tomorrow, and we should try to find the location of the ballet companies in Washington, DC. Maybe we can get a head start on tracking down Elena. We can also look up information on my mother and father."

  "Thank God for the Internet," he said. "I'll get the computer out of the car." He slipped on his shirt and buttoned it up. "Don't let anyone in while I'm gone."

  "I'm sure no one knows we're here."

  "I still want the dead bolt on as soon as I leave. We can't be too careful, Julia. My dad made it clear that whoever killed your parents had connections on this side of the world. And we know firsthand those connections still exist."

  "Are you deliberately trying to scare me? I just got my heart back to its normal rhythm."

  "I…" His expression turned serious. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

  "I already slept with you. You don't have to sweet-talk me," she said lightly.

  "I mean it, Julia. Lock the door."

  "I will." She followed him to the door, prepared to throw the dead bolt as soon as he left. Alex put his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her as if he were leaving forever, instead of just going to the car. Then he was gone.

  Shaken, she slid the dead bolt into place, hoping to God he really was coming back. That would always be the problem with Alex, she realized. She'd never be sure how long he would stay or if he would return. But how could she complain? If she'd wanted a man who never left she wouldn't have broken up with Michael.

  Chapter 19

  Liz waited on the dock as Michael helped the last of his passengers off the fifty-foot yacht he used for charter services. The Annabelle was one of two boats owned by Michael's family. She knew he preferred the sailboat over the yacht, but his older brother had seniority in deciding which boat to run. She waved as he saw her. "Hey," she called.

  He looked as if he wished he hadn't seen her and that she'd go away, but she was determined to talk to him. "Can I come up?" Without waiting for a reply, she boarded the yacht.

  Michael wore his sailing clothes: jeans, a sweater, and a thick jacket. His face was red from the wind, his light brown hair ruffled and damp.

  "What do you want?" he asked, a grumpy note to his voice.

  "That's a nice greeting. I came to see how you were."

  "I'm working. That's how I am."

  "You're done working," she pointed out. "And I think you owe me more than attitude. I did help you with your house, not to mention a few dozen other things over the last year."

  "Fine. But if you came here to talk about Julia, I'm not interested."

  "I didn't come here to talk about Julia. I came here to talk about me. You probably don't care about any of this, but I want you to know anyway. I quit my job at the cafe. I signed up for some classes at San Francisco State. I'm going to finish my education."

  "What brought this on?"

  "Julia gave me a kick in the butt. She pointed out to me recently that I've been sitting on the sidelines watching everyone else play. And she was right." Liz paused. "I'm still pissed off at her, but what she said about me was true. I have been drifting aimlessly for over a year now. I kept thinking something great would fall in my lap, but I guess it doesn't happen that way." She watched him closely for his reaction, knowing his opinion was extremely important to her. "What do you think?"

  He didn't answer right away, and each passing second made her more anxious.

  "I think you're on the right track, Lizzie," he said at last, his scowl replaced by the warm smile she loved so much.

  "Really?" She felt so relieved. "That means a lot to me. You're important to me, Michael. Not just because of what you were to Julia. I thought we were friends, too."

  "We are friends." He patted her on the shoulder. "Don't ever think we're not."

  "I won't. How's the house coming along?"

  "It's not. I haven't felt like working on it since—"

  "But you have to finish it. It's your house. It's your dream."

  "A dream is something you share with someone."

  "I don't believe that," she said with a toss of her head. "A dream is personal. That house means something to you. I should know. I saw the way you lovingly caressed the walls."

  "I didn't do that."

  She grinned. "You were close. Anyway, want some help? I have some free time tonight. I can scrape wallpaper, paint, or do whatever you need."

  "That's a nice offer, but—"

  She cut him off. "I'd really like to help, and if you're smart, you won't turn me down."

  "I don't even know if I'm going to keep the house. It's too big for a single guy. Unless you think Julia will change her mind?"

  Liz wished she could give him a different answer, but she couldn't. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I think Julia has a lot of plans that don't include you. She's on a quest to change her life. She's like a bird sprung from a cage, and she wants to fly everywhere, see everything."

  "You're right. I've been thinking a lot about the relationship we had. Julia started pulling away from me the day of your mother's funeral. I was just hanging on so tight she couldn't get loose." He dug his hands into his pockets and walked to the side of the boat, staring out at the bay. "If it hadn't been this search of hers, it would have been something else that broke us up. I was just so ready to get married. I couldn't see that she wasn't."

  Liz didn't say anything. Michael was lost in his thoughts, and she didn't want to intrude. Getting over Julia would be difficult for him, but she believed now that they would both find a better future on their own.

  "I never should have bought that house without talking to her," Michael added. "I told my sister about it, and she said she couldn't believe I'd made such a bonehead move. Apparently it's not romantic to surprise a woman with a house."

  "I think it's really romantic. If it had been me, I would have been very happy, but that's just me. I still think you should finish remodeling it. It's a great place, and you love it. Someday you'll find a woman who loves it, too. Then it will be ready."

  Michael turned back to her. "Maybe I'll paint the back bedroom today. If you want to help, I won't say no."

  "I'm your girl," she said, "as long as you buy me a pizza. I'm starving."

  "Okay, but we're getting plain cheese pizza. I hate all that fancy—" Michael stopped. "Do you know that guy?" he asked, tipping his head toward a man on the pier. "He's been staring at you since you got here."

  As Liz turned her head, the man pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and walked away. "I don't know him." She licked her lips, feelin
g a little nervous. "I hope he's not the man who broke into our apartment. Julia said he was following her around. What if he's following me now?"

  "The police haven't found out who ransacked your place?"

  "No. I'm scared, Michael."

  He stepped closer to her, putting his arm about her shoulders. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'll take care of you."

  "Thanks."

  "I hope Julia has someone watching her back."

  Liz had a feeling that someone's name was Alex.

  "It's me," Alex said as he knocked on the hotel room door, his laptop under his arm.

  Julia flung the door open, her beautiful blue eyes worried. "Thank God, you're back."

  "Why? Did something happen?" He searched her face for a clue to her distress.

  "I just had a little panic attack, imagining that someone was waiting for you by the car or something crazy like that. I'm losing my mind, aren't I?"

  "Not even close, but you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

  "I know. I'm still glad you're back." She took the computer from his hands and set it on the table, then wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a long, loving hug. "You don't mind if we stay like this for a while, do you?"

  His hands slipped under her camisole top, caressing her back. "Hey, you left your bra off."

  "I didn't think I needed it," she murmured.

  "You don't," he said with pleasure. "In fact, we could get rid of this shirt, too."

  Before she could answer, a knock came at the door.

  "Don't answer it," she said, the fear back in her voice.

  "Room service," a voice called out.

  "It could be a trick," she warned him.

  "Julia, we just ordered food," Alex said calmly. He set her aside, looked through the peephole, then opened the door. As the waiter set up the table, the delicious aroma of burgers and fries filled the room. Alex was reminded of how long it had been since they'd eaten. Julia must have realized the same thing. Her panic gone for the moment, she was already into the fries before he finished tipping the waiter.

  "Hmm, this is good," she said when they were alone. "I'm starving. I haven't had a big cheeseburger in a long time. I feel so decadent."

  He grinned at that. "I can show you more decadence than a cheeseburger."

  "Save it for later," she said with a laugh.

  Alex pulled over a chair, and for the next few moments they ate in companionable silence. He finished first, but Julia was a close second. She sat back with her milk shake in hand and a satisfied sigh.

  "I think I inhaled that," she said. "And you still beat me."

  "I'm used to eating on the run."

  "Sleeping on the run, working on the run, pretty much everything else on the run," she said with a knowing glint in her eyes.

  "What? You have me all figured out now?"

  "Not even close. You're a man of mystery."

  "Good. That's the way I like it."

  "That's not the way I like it." A frown drew her brows together. "Tell me something I don't know about you. Like a juicy secret."

  "You want to know more secrets? Haven't you had your fill?"

  She made a face at him. "A personal secret, Alex, nothing that involves foreign governments or spies."

  He grinned. "I don't have any."

  "You must."

  He thought about it and realized that he truly did not have any secrets from her. She knew more about him and his family than anyone. In fact, he'd let her get closer to him than any other person on earth. How had he let that happen? And how was he going to put an end to it?

  He'd tried to walk away once before, but he hadn't been able to leave her, not in the middle of everything. He would go when it was over, when they knew everything there was to know. Then he'd leave, wouldn't he?

  Of course he would go. He had jobs waiting for him. One call to the magazine, and he'd be on his way to some distant country on the other side of the globe. Just the way he liked it.

  Julia would go on with her life. And he'd go on with his.

  She'd be a good memory, one of the best. But that's all she would be. Their affair would end like all of his other relationships. He didn't know how to do long-term. He'd never wanted to learn. Until now… He drew in a sharp breath, determined to put that ridiculous thought out of his mind.

  "It's okay, Alex," Julia said gently. "You don't have to worry I'll tell your secrets."

  "I wasn't worrying about that."

  "Then what's making you so uptight? You have your stone face on right now, and that usually means something is bothering you."

  "I don't have a stone face."

  "Yes, you do. Your skin tightens over your cheekbones, and your jaw gets really set, and even your eyes look cold. They have that 'don't ask me any questions' look in them right now."

  "Then maybe you should stop asking me questions," he pointed out.

  She stuck out her tongue, breaking the tension, and he felt his face relax. He had been tightening up. He just hadn't realized it until she'd pointed it out.

  "You know, we're even on the secrets issue," she told him. "I may know yours, but you also know mine." She paused. "Except maybe one."

  He waited for her to elaborate, but she simply set down her milk shake and stood up.

  "We should get to work," she said. "We need to make plane reservations for tomorrow, and—"

  "What's the one thing?" he asked, extremely curious.

  "I'm not going to tell you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's personal, and…" She paused for a long moment. "It would probably scare you to death."

  He gazed into her eyes and saw a question there, a question he was terrified to answer. "I guess everyone is entitled to one secret," he said lightly. He got up from his chair and retrieved the laptop. He sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and opened the computer, hitting the button to boot up.

  Julia sat down on the bed next to him. "I'll tell you if you really want to know," she said.

  "I don't think I do."

  "Okay, but fair warning… before you leave for good, I'm going to tell you."

  "I'll keep that in mind. Now, I think we should take the first flight out tomorrow." In fact, if they could get on a flight right now, he would. Because another night with Julia wasn't going to make the leaving any easier.

  "Let's see what you can get," Julia said.

  His fingers flew across the keyboard. Within five minutes they had reservations on a seven a.m. flight to Dulles. "Now what?" he asked.

  "Look up my mother's name, Natalia Markov."

  "Here she is," he said a moment later, pulling up a page on Russian ballet dancers. There was a grainy black-and-white photograph of the ballerina. He adjusted the screen so Julia could see it better. He heard her sharp intake of breath and knew that she'd remembered something.

  "I know her," she said softly. "That's my mother. She's beautiful."

  Natalia was stunning, Alex thought. She looked a bit like Julia, but she had a lighter, more ethereal quality to her face and figure. As he studied her picture, he remembered something his father had said earlier, something that had gotten lost in his head until now. "Stan knew your mother," he said aloud.

  "That's right," Julia said. "Your father told us that Stan helped them set up the defection. Why didn't he tell us that? He made it sound like he knew nothing."

  "He said he was too scared for his family to look into my father's death. I bet he knew the death was fake all along." He thought back to their meetings.

  "And you—you must have reminded him of your mother. Yet, he gave nothing away. Hmm."

  "What are you thinking?"

  "I wonder if Stan hired someone to break into our apartments."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Is it?" he queried. "Think about it. We went to Stan first. He knew about you before anyone else would have time to find you."

  "He's a dignified, respected, older man. I c
an't see him breaking and entering."

  "What about manipulating? Directing? Calling the shots—like he did when your parents tried to defect?"

  "You really believe that's possible? What about the guy in the cap? Or the men who followed us to Napa?"

  Alex shrugged. "They could all be working together, or different parties could be coming at us from different directions."

  "Great. I feel much better now," she said dryly.

  "I'm going to call Stan, confront him, see what he has to say." Alex set the laptop aside and grabbed his cell phone off the table. He waited impatiently for Stan to answer. A message machine came on instead. "Call me immediately," Alex said. "It's extremely important. Don't let me down." As he hung up, Alex realized Stan had already let him down, just like everyone else in his life.

  "He'll call back. He cares about you," Julia said, putting her hand over his. "I saw the way he looked at you, as if you were his son."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not his son."

  "Don't judge him until you have all the facts."

  "Fine." He tipped his head toward the computer screen. "Did you learn anything else?"

  "I can't seem to focus on reading the article. I can't look away from my mother." She smiled sadly. "How could I have forgotten her until just this second? How could I have forgotten them all? My sister, my father, my mother?"

  He put his arm around her, pulling her close. "You suffered a trauma. Everything you knew was ripped away from you when you were too small to understand what was happening. Sarah gave you love and comforted you. She took care of you and became your entire world."

  "And she surrounded me with people. First Gino and all his relatives, then Lizzie."

  "Exactly. There were so many good people in your life who loved you that there was no reason for you to search your brain for anything else. It was probably too painful to try to remember, so you didn't."

  "You're being too easy on me," she said.

  "No, you're being too hard on yourself."

  "I feel like I betrayed my mom and dad by forgetting who they were, and my sister, too. What am I going to say when I see Elena? How am I going to tell her that for the past twenty-five years I never gave her one thought?"