Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies (13 page)

But that would be a lie. He knew it wouldn’t be okay. Not for them, anyway. Too much had happened, the gulf between them had grown too wide.

He sat down next to her and slung his arm across her shoulder like he used to do back in training camp when she’d been his buddy, his confidant, his best friend. He pulled her close. She didn’t raise her head, but she didn’t draw away either. He could tell from her unsettled breathing she’d been crying. Maybe still was. Though he hoped he was wrong. Seeing tears in those beautiful blue eyes would be his undoing. Even if they were tears of fury. Against him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t remotely thinking about Cameron or even the possibility that he might have bugged the house. He must have done it in case Emerich’s men came back. I should have guessed, but I haven’t been thinking right all afternoon.”

She raised her head to look at him. “Where’s the box?”

“I left it on the counter.” He stared at her red-rimmed eyes and even though there were no longer any tears, the raw emotion tearing her face apart sliced through him. Should he tell her the truth? Tell her that even after all this time she still muddled his brain and twisted him up inside like a pretzel? “Do you want to go back for it?”

She didn’t answer, just sat there in miserable silence. He could take her screaming at him, take her adolescent impossible temper tantrums, but damn, he could never handle it when she just sat there and said nothing.

“I guess there have been too many secrets between us,” he started. “Too many things left unsaid. I can’t wrap my mind around it all. Can’t figure out how I feel or what to do about it.”

She paused a second, her fingers reaching down to play with a blade of grass. She sighed. “When you grow up with Stuart Marsters as a father, you learn it’s easier to live life on a need-to-know basis.”

Had that been an attempt at an apology? He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the first truly honest thing she’d ever said to him. “I wouldn’t consider two sisters need-to-know.”

She shook her head. “It didn’t make a difference whether you knew or not. It’s not like they would be coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Maybe not. But I did need to know when one of them showed up as a person of interest. Becca was sleeping with Emerich, a known terrorist
and
our target. I needed to know that.” His anger was rearing its ugly head again. He could feel it ballooning up within him. He knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything, probably the opposite, but he just couldn’t get past it.

Genie took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything. No excuse, no explanation, no nothing. He supposed that was his answer.
If he even needed one
.

“We all could have died in that explosion,” he said quietly, unable to abandon all hope of reaching her. “Your sister
did
die.”

She still didn’t say anything.

He paused a beat, then took one last chance and opened up to her. “I waited for you to come to the hospital. To explain. To help me. I was so damn broken. I needed you.”
So much
.

Hell, he hadn’t meant to say all that. He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear to see the pity in her eyes. She hadn’t come to him because she hadn’t cared. Not as much as he’d thought she had, anyway.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t,” she whispered.

Right
. “You mean you wouldn’t.”

“You were being monitored every second. Cameron would have picked me up.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“I couldn’t take the chance of Emerich getting to me.”

He risked a look at her. “How?”

“How do you think?”

That surprised him. “You think Emerich has someone working for him in CTA?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“Based on what?”

“He is always a step ahead of us. He knows things he shouldn’t know.”

Kyle considered. “Like?”

She met his gaze and must have realized he was taking her seriously. “Like this whole thing today. How did he know where I was living? No one knew but my dad. Not to mention Cat. But there was even more, back before the warehouse. Stuff no one should have known about my life, and definitely not Emerich. That day of the explosion, I had been running late and hadn’t made it out to the harbor with the rest of you yet when I got a text from Becca. She told me to meet her at that warehouse. I knew something was wrong as soon as I got there. The place was empty. Abandoned. But more than that, it just didn’t feel right.”

Kyle took a deep breath, holding in his questions, not wanting to stop her now that she was finally telling him what happened that day.

“Instead of calling Cameron, instead of calling you, I went in. And I’ve regretted it every minute since. You’re right, I had already turned off my GPS. I’d hoped to find Becca before the rest of you got worried when I didn’t meet you at the docks, and started looking for me. I wanted to talk to her first, to hear from her own lips what the hell was going on. Why she was involved with that despicable man. What were they up to. But I never got the chance.”

“You didn’t see her at all? You’re sure?”

For a split second, something shifted in her eyes. Confusion? Another one of her damn secrets? He couldn’t be sure.

“No.”

Her confession mildly shocked him. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I almost got you killed at that warehouse. When I found out a girder had come down on you, I thought I
had
killed you. When I found out you were still alive, it was a miracle. I wasn’t about to make that same mistake, risk your life again. You were safer not knowing. Not being involved.”

“Wow, thanks. I feel totally emasculated now.”

She smiled. A real, genuine long-lost Genie smile, and something lurched inside him.

“One thing I don’t understand though.”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t call me.”

“That’s right. I didn’t call anyone.”

“But I got a text from you on my secure line. You said you were at the warehouse with Becca. You said to meet you there.”

“What? No.” The color drained from Genie’s cheeks. “I didn’t send that.”

He frowned. “Then who did?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, glancing nervously around her. “This is why you should go away. Why you shouldn’t be anywhere near me. Someone obviously wanted you at the warehouse that day. Someone wanted to hurt you, and they used me to get to you.”

That made no sense, except for how worried she clearly was—about him. “Or maybe it was the other way around, and they wanted me to save you.”

She blinked. Then shook her head. “This is crazy. What is happening here?” she whispered.

“Seems to me we’re never going to find out unless we work together.” A partnership he wanted back far more than he’d realized.

Her luminous blue eyes looked haunted. “No. You need to stay away from me.”

He didn’t like that look. Didn’t like the way it or the desperation in her words made him feel. “You don’t need to protect me, Genie.”

“I know that,” she said, a touch too quickly. Perhaps all this time she’d been pushing him away more out of concern, than doubt that he’d really be there for her.

“I’m a big boy, fully capable of taking care of myself.” He inched closer when she didn’t respond, when she wouldn’t look at him. “A very big boy,” he murmured low in her ear.

“I’m aware of that, too.” Her voice caught, even more of her defenses crumbling.

“Are you sure? Maybe I need to remind you…”

Chapter Seven

Kyle watched Genie’s eyes widen then fill with surprise. A small smile lifted her lips. No, he needn’t remind her. Heat coiled within him as the soft tip of her tongue slipped out and moistened her lips. Their earlier kiss had knocked him off his axis, driving home how good they could be together. How good they were together. He hadn’t been able to keep his distance since. He wasn’t certain he wanted to. Especially if the wedge she’d been trying to force between them was more about keeping him safe, than keeping him in the dark about her plans.

She took a deep breath, as if she were feeling the same out-of-control insanity he was, her ample breasts rising toward him. He leaned closer, his lips inches from hers, needing, asking. His anger and frustration were gone, leaving only an undeniable need he couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “I…I’ve really missed you.”

She turned slightly, inching toward him. That small sign was all it took. It was as if she’d pressed the go button. His lips fell on hers, crushing them beneath the onslaught of feelings rushing through him
—
desire, pain, anger, lust, frustration…love. Her mouth opened beneath his, and he thrust his tongue within, tasting her sweetness, feeling her warmth. An ache of longing burned in the pit of his gut, and he felt the overwhelming need to have her pressed up against him, her bare skin against his. That need sucked away all thought. All he could do was feel. And smell. And touch.
Her
.

He grasped at her clothes, trying to drag her as close as was physically possible. She let loose a small mewling sound that sent the blood rushing through his ears.

They were outdoors, out in the open where anyone could come along, but he couldn’t seem to stop or even care. He lay back on the grass and mindlessly pulled her on top of him, feeling her soft breasts press against his chest as his tongue plundered her mouth and his hands swept through her hair, mussing the silky strands.

She drew back taking a deep breath, hesitating, then her lust-filled gaze locked onto his and she leaned in once more, kissing him back as if her life depended on it, as if she were drowning and he was the only one who could save her.

And he wanted to save her. God how he wanted to be that one.

For the first time in a long time he felt they might actually have a chance. That they might be able to move past the doubts and the lies, and make their way back to each other.

All at once he heard something. A sound so out of place, it stilled his lips in mid-kiss.

“What?” she moaned, her mouth still pressed against his, moist and greedy.

Reluctantly he lifted his head. He heard it again. Apparently so did she. She stiffened above him.

Voices.

She scrambled off him, righting her clothes as they slipped behind some nearby shrubs. “Who is it?” she whispered.

“Not ours,” he said, and didn’t bother to correct his mistake. Ours? No.
His
.

“Emerich’s men?”

“Most likely. Especially since we both figure he doesn’t have your dad.”

She didn’t deny it. He glanced at her and the truth was pretty obvious. She already had a good idea where her dad was hiding. She’d probably known all along. And no doubt, it had been part of the reason she’d been trying to send him away, not merely her supposed concern for his safety. But she was concerned. He had to believe that. And still, she didn’t want him along when she went to find her father.

An involuntary stab pierced through him before he could stifle it.

“Come on!” Genie jumped up and grabbed his hand, tugging him down a path through the woods.

“Where are we going?” he asked when they were far enough away from the voices that they wouldn’t be heard.

“To find my dad.”

“You know where he is?” he asked, hoping she would admit it. Hoping she’d be honest just this once.

“I might have a clue.”

It was telling how that small half-admission lightened the heaviness in his chest. “Care to share?” he asked as they skirted a giant pine and continued jogging downhill, trying not to slip and slide on the carpet of pine needles beneath their feet.

“Nope.”

Still, she didn’t let go of his hand. “Come on, Genie. Tell me.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, an impish smile on her face. “No.”

“Infuriating,” he muttered.

“Yeah. But that’s what you like about me.”

“Is it?” he muttered dryly.

“Yep.”

She skidded to a halt. He stopped next to her and they peered out from behind a large redwood. The sun, glinting off cold blue waters, shone through the trees. A large, very expensive and very yellow speedboat was moored at the dock. Two large figures stood guard on the wooden jetty beside it.

“That’s them. Emerich’s men,” she said. “I recognize that tall one from the raid on my house.”

“We should call Cameron to send in the cavalry.”

She turned to him, a glint in her eye. “I thought you
were
the cavalry.”

He straightened his back and took a deep breath, puffing out his chest mockingly. “Sometimes even someone as great as me isn’t enough. If I recall, there were at least a half a dozen men at your mushroom house. I’m good, but not
that
—”