Absolution (13 page)

She half expected him to drop the bags near the door and usher them out with his gun drawn, but he simply led them out to the silver Range Rover idling at the curb. The driver leaned over to pop the passenger door open, and she recognized Ben’s fraternal twin, Rhys.

His navy blue eyes twinkled. “Hi ladies.”

“Hi,” they answered. More of her tension dissolved. Rhys was former Delta. If he was relaxed, then everything must be okay. And she couldn’t have wished for two more formidable bodyguards.

Bryn climbed into the front seat to hug him, and Ben waited until Emily got in the back before putting the luggage in the trunk and sliding in next to her. The moment the door shut, Rhys pulled away from the curb into traffic.

“Is Nev back at the house?” Bryn asked him.

“Yeah.” He glanced in the rear view mirror at 99

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Emily. “You need anything before I take us back?”

Unlike his brother’s, Rhys’s deep voice held no trace of an accent.

Emily wondered if the Army had trained it out of him. Time in black ops changed everything else about a man, why not his accent too? “No thanks, I’m good.”

He refocused on the road. “Nev and Sam have got everything set up for you. Trust me, you won’t want for anything.”

She smiled. “That was sweet of them.”

Ben laid an arm across the back of the seat, his hand resting near her far shoulder. “You’ll be in good hands while you’re here.”

“I’m sure I will.” Luke wouldn’t have brought her here otherwise, but with the twins she felt safe enough.

“Anyone heard from Dec?” Bryn asked.

“Luke has,” Ben answered. “But I don’t know the details.”

Emily’s stomach tightened. “Luke’s here already?” She wasn’t sure she was ready to confront him again so soon.

“Yep. Got here last night with our marching orders.” Ben winked, his dark brows and lashes a startling contrast with the pale green of his irises.

“We have to keep you guys safe, happy, and entertained, in that order.”

“You being the entertainment,” Bryn remarked dryly.

“You got it, sweets. I’m a one man show. What more could you ask for?”

“Earplugs,” Rhys responded, earning a shot in the arm from his brother.

Out her window, Emily stared at the unfamiliar city, but the reality of the culture shock wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Beirut was a cosmopolitan city, and had once been called “the Paris of the 100

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Middle East.” The road signs were in French and Arabic, but the shop signs were mostly in English.

Sleek, modern buildings rose above arabesque Ottoman-style architecture. As Rhys wound them through the congested traffic, she spotted churches and mosques nestled side by side and wished people could coexist as peacefully. Why was it so hard for human beings to get along?

The temperature was cool, but the shops and cafes they passed on the palm tree lined streets were still busy, and the clubs would be busier yet come nightfall. How surreal to think Luke had spent many months here over the years. He’d told her once how much he hated the place, but that was because of his combat experience here.

“What do you think, Em?”

She looked over at Bryn. “It’s beautiful. I wasn’t expecting it to be after what Luke had told me and because of the 2006 war.”

“That’s because most of the city has been rebuilt since Luke was deployed here,” Rhys said. “And we know which areas to stay away from.”

“Such as?” If she went out, she didn’t want to go to the wrong area.

“Like the Palestinian refugee camps,” Ben answered. “And the southern regions, which are mostly Shiite and controlled by Hezbollah. Some areas down there are still covered with land mines.”

“Those are not fun,” said Rhys.

Emily’s gaze travelled to the thin tracks of surgical scars on the right side of his head, barely visible now that his thick black hair had grown in.

He was lucky to have made it, let alone recover to the extent he had. “I’ll bet not. I can hardly see the scar now, though.”

“Yeah, Nev and the neurosurgeon did a good job on me.”

“How is she?” Bryn asked. “Healing up okay?”

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“For the most part. Her thumb still gives her trouble, though. She’s pretty hard on herself. Keeps pushing with the rehab.”

“Hmm, sounds like someone else I know,” Bryn said, poking him in the ribs.

Neveah was fortunate to have function of her hand at all considering the knife wounds she’d sustained. Luke’s words about the incident came back to Emily, and that Neveah’s attacker had been a world famous neurosurgeon Tehrazzi had enlisted.

Thank God they had Luke and the twins to protect them while they were in Beirut.

They passed neighborhoods filled with shops and markets, and when they stopped at a military checkpoint, she saw the first indicator of war in the bullet holes and crumbling exteriors on houses and buildings. She hated to think Luke had been there while those bullets and shells flew. That deployment was one of the longest of their marriage, and one of the few she’d actually known where he was stationed.

She still remembered with vivid clarity the day she’d found out about the Marine barracks bombing.

When she’d flipped on the TV, her knees had given out and she’d collapsed onto the couch. For hours she’d watched the frantic efforts of the men digging wounded and dead Marines out of the rubble, praying Luke wasn’t somehow among them. She hadn’t slept for two days until he’d finally called one night to tell her he was okay. Emily shivered despite the heat coming out of the vent next to her.

Once the soldiers waved them through, the Rover’s powerful engine hummed as Rhys got them to the outskirts of Beirut into the hills that cradled the city.

“Home sweet home,” Bryn murmured a few minutes later.

Emily peered out the windshield as a tall, white 102

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wall came into view. Beyond it sat a large Mediterranean-style villa surrounded by manicured lawns and gardens. “Wow.” If she had to be locked up somewhere for the foreseeable future, she couldn’t have chosen a nicer place. “It looks like a country club.”

“My father would have loved you for saying that,” Bryn said, and Ben reached out to give her shoulder a squeeze, completely comfortable with her and the easy affection between them. That’s partly why Emily liked him so much. He was amazingly warm and caring underneath that prankster image.

“He’d love that you were staying here again, safe and sound until everything’s taken care of,” he said to Bryn.

“Yeah, he would.” Bryn swiveled in her seat to smile at her, her long shiny hair gleaming in the weak rays of sunlight streaming through the windows. “You ready for this?”

“Absolutely.” What other choice did she have?

Might as well stay positive and make the best of it for everyone. Now all she had to do was gear up for the possibility of seeing Luke.

When Rhys pulled up and parked in front of the house next to a marble fountain, he and Ben popped out to get the luggage. The surprisingly warm, fresh air felt good on her face when she climbed out of the vehicle, and the welcome rush of water from the fountain soothed her because it reminded her of her own back courtyard garden.

The massive front doors opened a moment later, and a beautiful redhead rushed out. “You’re here!”

she cried, running over to Bryn and throwing her arms around her. “It’s so good to see you. Nev and I have been dying for some company.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” Ben demanded, dragging her close when she released Bryn and kissing her full on the mouth.

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She laughed, a full-throated sound of delight.

“You know I love you, but sometimes you bug the hell out of me.” Once she’d pulled away, she met Emily’s eyes. “Hi, you must be Emily.” Waves of titian-colored hair swept around her shoulders in the light breeze as she came over. “I’m Sam.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Emily replied, offering her hand, but Sam ignored it and hugged her instead. They were around the same height, and she was touched that Sam seemed so compassionate.

“Thank God, I’m not the only short-ass around here,” Sam whispered, and Emily laughed.

“Maybe it’s just that everyone else is freakishly tall.” “Exactly.” Her soft brown eyes glowed with warmth. “We’ll stick together, you and me.”

“Sounds good.”

“Come on.” Ben lugged the bags inside behind his brother, who also had his hands full. “Let’s get you guys squared away.”

Stepping over the threshold onto the mosaic tiled floor, Emily gazed around in wonder. The twins headed up the stairs and she followed with Bryn.

The upper hallway was a dark, exotic hardwood with an elegant, expensive looking carpet runner in the center. The hall was long, with four carved wooden doors on either side. Ben stopped at the second from the end and opened it.

“This is your room,” he said to her, stepping back to let her in. “Bryn’s across the hall. Rhys and Nev are on the left, and Luke’s on your right.”

Trying her best to ignore the pang in her chest at the mention of his name, Emily looked around the exquisitely furnished room. The walls were papered with black fleur-de-lis on an ivory background. The floor was polished mahogany with a cream Aubusson carpet anchoring the ebony king-sized, four poster bed. Black-and-white vertical striped silk drapes 104

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framed large picture windows that overlooked the garden, and a comfortable looking window seat perched beneath it. A perfect spot for curling up to read a book when she wanted some privacy.

“There’s a TV in the armoire over there,” Ben added, pointing to the far wall across from the bed.

“And the fireplace is remote controlled.” He picked up a remote from the nightstand and demonstrated how to turn it on. In seconds, a soft whoosh sounded and an instant later orange flames licked at the fiberglass logs behind the glass inset.

“I could get used to this,” Emily said with a smile.

“Jamul was big on comfort.”

She sensed a slight change in Ben, a tightening, as he said the words. She wondered if he still blamed himself for Jamul’s death.

“Anyway,” he finished. “Go ahead and get settled, then come down and have something to eat if you want.”

“Thanks.” When he left she checked out the bathroom, also done in a Parisian theme of black and white. Cream marble and crystal, with crisp white tile and ebony accents. A glassed-in shower and Jacuzzi soaker tub finished the room, perfect for easing the aches out of her muscles. Lovely.

Pulling herself away, she unpacked her things and passed Luke’s room when she went down to the kitchen. It was a huge, sunny room with creamy walls and deep charcoal gray granite countertops.

Grand enough for a gourmet chef to work in. Emily looked forward to it. It had been too long since she’d had anyone to cook for, and besides, it would make her feel useful.

“Feel like some tea?” Sam asked, standing by the white porcelain under mount sink.

“That’d be great.”

“I love your accent, by the way.”

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“Oh, thanks.” But to her ears, Sam was the one with an accent.

Sam opened a glass-fronted cabinet and pulled out some china cups. “Let’s see, what’ve we got?”

Another cupboard was full of stacked tea boxes. “You like chai, right?”

Startled, Emily blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Luke told me. He left this for you.” Sam pulled out her favorite brand, and a sharp pain jolted Emily’s heart as she stared at the familiar box. The whole reason she’d started drinking the tea in the first place was because it reminded her of Luke.

Years ago she’d read about the Afghan and Pakistani preference for chai tea, and drinking it was a tiny link to Luke because she knew perfectly well that’s where he spent most of his time overseas.

Stupid and pathetic, but there it was. And she still drank the stuff.

When Sam handed her a steaming, spicy cupful, Emily had to swallow the lump in her throat to say thank you. Such a small thing, for him to remember her favorite tea, but it meant a lot to her. The question was, did it mean anything to him? Or was he just trying to be nice because he felt bad about dragging her here?

After three sips, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Is Luke here?”

Sam’s wide brown eyes flashed up. “No, he’s out...working.”

Ah. “In Beirut?”

“And elsewhere.”

Okay. She wasn’t going to learn anything more about Luke’s whereabouts here than she had when they’d been married. Emily was disappointed, but not all that surprised. There was no reason for her to know the details, was there? She had no claim on him, and she wasn’t part of the team. She and Bryn 106

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were merely guests during their time here.

“Listen.” Sam laid a hand over hers and squeezed. “I’m not privy to all the details either, but I can promise you he’s safe.”

Was he? He hated Beirut, and the whole reason he’d brought the rest of them over here was because of a credible threat against them. Knowing he was out there hunting Tehrazzi and putting himself in danger had her stomach in knots.

“There she is.”

Emily turned at the familiar voice and offered a smile at Neveah. The surgeon was a stunning woman at almost six feet tall, with lake blue eyes and gorgeous thick brown hair that fell in waves to the middle of her back.

“Hi,” she said, hopping off her stool to hug her.

Nev was nearly as tall as Luke, and Emily had to reach up high to put her arms around her neck.

“How are you?” Nev asked, assessing her with a physician’s keen eye.

“Good.” She was getting sick of saying that and

“fine.”

“How about you?” She glanced pointedly at Nev’s right forearm, and the wicked scar that marred the length of it.

“Almost healed up.” She rotated her thumb.

“This still gives me trouble sometimes, but don’t worry, I can handle IVs well enough that I won’t cause you any damage when we do your next treatment.”

The mention of it filled her with dread. “Are you really all set up to do this?”

“Do what?” Bryn asked, wandering back into the kitchen and helping herself to some tea.