Free Fall (21 page)

She squeezed his hand with surprising strength. “Even if I make this easy for you now, it’s only going to get complicated again, then we hurt each other. I know that. But after what happened today, when things got truly tough, when I could have lost you…”

Her voice dwindled off with a strangled sob.

He gathered her close to his chest, grateful for the privacy of their cubicle in a corner, but wishing they could be in a room alone so he could hold her all night long while the rain washed away the horror of this day.

Sniffling, she eased out of his arms, swiping a tissue from a box by her computer and blowing her nose. “Sorry to fall apart on you like that. But after what happened today, I’m having a tough time being logical or smart.”

He wanted to kiss her so damn bad his teeth hurt. His hands slid up to cradle her face, and yeah, right now he couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t just go ahead and…

Kiss
her.

His mouth covered hers, not in any crazy, out of control way. Not here, where someone could walk up to them at any second. Just her lips against his. He
needed
to connect with her, affirm that they were both alive and on a day like today, nothing else seemed to matter. He drew in the eucalyptus scent of her shampoo, the satiny feel of her skin under his fingertips.
Stella
. It was always about Stella and had been since the first time he…

Ping.

He froze at the electronic chime. Stella jerked back, her eyes wide. She pressed her fingers to her mouth for an instant before she whipped around to look at the computer.

“Stella?” He sat up straighter. “Do you have something?”

“Hold on…” She held up a hand while she hunched closer to the screen, clicking the scroll button as she analyzed data cycling in front of her in what looked like gibberish to him, letters, numbers, and words shifting, realigning into distinguishable lists. Names.

“Oh my God,” Stella whispered, horrified.

Shit. On a day like today, there shouldn’t be anything that could shock them. Only something beyond imagining. “What does it say? What’s wrong?”

“The words coded into the cloth…” Her hands hovered in front of the screen as if she could gather up the information in her palms. “I’ve translated them and they’re names. When I put those names into the database, it came back a list of U.S. and European operatives in the area. Both alive and dead.” Her throat moved a gulp and she reached for a drink that wasn’t even there. Her hands fell back to her lap. “I thought at first they had my name on here.”

Her words damn near set his skin on fire, to think of her identity out there, exposed. It was one thing for Sutton Harper to have a vague sense of her as an agent in the area. But for enemy intelligence agencies and governments around the world to know specifics, to have her on their radar…

His brain grasped on one bit of hope in her words. “You
thought
your name was on the list? But it wasn’t?”

She shook her head, braid swinging like a pendulum. “It doesn’t say
Stella
Carson. It says
Melanie
Carson. It’s my mother’s name.”

“Your mother? Why would her name be there?” Unless. Holy crap.

“My mother wasn’t working for the Peace Corps.” Stella looked from her computer screen straight at him, her eyes hollow with disillusionment. “She was a CIA operative.”

***

Sam would miss these late night walks with Annie when they came to an end, and he knew they would have to end eventually. His job here would be over once she realized exactly why he wasn’t the man for her. For now, he wanted to breathe in the air heavy with humidity from the rain and make the most of every last second with her.

How far was he willing to take that, even knowing it couldn’t last? Somehow he’d lost sight of that end result in his yearlong pursuit of her. At some point he’d become so consumed with making her notice him, he’d forgotten there would be a very real expiration date.

After the way they’d kissed at the school earlier, his time to figure out his next move was coming. Most likely sooner rather than later.

Annie tipped her face into the night breeze, moonlight streaming down over her porcelain face, illuminating the freckles along her nose. “The kids recovered quickly from the disturbing news reports. By supper, they were acting like nothing had happened.”

“You were good with them in the cafeteria.” As they walked onto the playground, he squeezed her hand, a privilege he didn’t take for granted. “You calmly talked them through the television report then kept them occupied with all the cookies they could eat.”

Her laugh rode the gritty wind that twisted swings until the chains clinked. “They’ll be upset later when they realize there’s no dessert for the rest of the week.”

“We’ll add an extra recess.” He punted the ball farther, toward the swing set.

“Wearing them out with soccer.” She nodded, kicking a stray soccer ball. “Good plan.”

“It worked well this evening after supper.” He pointed to the row of dark windows along the dorms.

“Worked for most of them.” She tipped her head toward his conspiratorially. “Khaali stuffed pillows under her blankets again and hid in the bathroom.”

“To read late?” He respected how much she cared for her students, looking after each one like a child of her own.

“Maybe. That’s what she says.” She dropped into a swing, pushing off with her toe. “But I think she just wants some time to be alone.”

He leaned against the metal A-frame. “So she’s asleep now?”

“I gave her a flashlight.” She pulled on the chains and swung higher, hooks overhead squeaking.

“You broke the rules. I like that about you.”

“I’m a rebel at heart, I guess.”

He liked that about her too, more than she could imagine. Damn it, this was getting complicated.

Sliding behind her, he palmed the small of her back and nudged her higher. “The staff party this weekend would be a good time to make our dating officially known.” Because if their time was limited, damn it, he wanted to make the most of it now that finally she’d noticed him as a man. “We could see each other more openly rather than sneaking a late night walk. I could offer you a proper date.”

She glanced over her shoulder and she wasn’t smiling. “You’re a good cook and I happened to enjoy our movie night.”

“Back to the staff party…” he pressed, more determined with each passing second that he was making the right decision. His hand grazed her back again. “Will you go with me as my date?”

She drug her feet along the dusty earth, slowing, stopping. “The staff party would be a sad place to end something that’s only just started.”

His gut dropped. He stepped around to kneel in front of her. “You want to—what is the English phrase?—break up with me already?”

“I think you are rushing things between us.” She trailed her fingers down his cheek.

“I have waited for a year.” And he feared time was running out. He clasped her soft hand.

“A year…” She blinked and stuttered. “I…”

“You are speechless for once.” He kissed her knuckles. “I am amazed.”

“Suddenly you’re a comedian.” She rested her forehead against his.

“I am a man who has waited a long time for a chance with you.” A chance that would very likely be ruined when she learned more about him, about why he left Egypt to come here. But for now, he would allow himself to enjoy what time he had with her.

“You know, an affair would be easier than a relationship.”

He choked on a cough. “Pardon me?”

“Does that shock you? We are both adults—more than adults. I may be wrong, but I assumed from your kiss that you find me attractive.”

“You know I do.” God, he wanted to take her up on the offer, had been thinking the same thing himself.

“Then let’s skip the formalities.” She kissed him lightly, deliberately. “Come with me to my apartment.”

He wanted her, without question, wanted her so much his body ached. And he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life never knowing what it would be like to hold her in his arms through the night.

But his conscience balked at the notion of being intimate with her when he held back so much about himself. When he knew she could not be honest with him.

She pressed fingers to his mouth. “I am not naïve. I know there are things you haven’t told me. There’s a look to a person who has secrets. I…” She stuttered for the first time. “I have my own. Maybe that’s why we’re drawn to each other. And perhaps that’s why we can have an affair.”

“You make a compelling argument.” One he didn’t have the strength to argue with.

He pulled her from the swing and into his arms. Kneeling right there in the dusty playground, he kissed her, tasting the lingering sugar and cinnamon from cookies. But more than that, he took in the feel of her, the press of her full breasts against his chest, the silky glide of her hair as he thrust his hands under her scarf. The intimacy of those chestnut strands caressing his skin was almost more than he could withstand.

They needed to move this inside before someone saw them. He wouldn’t compromise her reputation or set an improper example for the children. Clasping her by the elbows, he stood, bringing her with him. His body protested the loss of her lips, of her hands on his shoulders even as his mind reassured him soon, soon she would finally be his for as long as they had together.

“Sam,” she said, her voice husky with desire. “Your phone.”

“What?” His passion-fogged mind wrestled to keep up with words.

“Your phone is buzzing. Can you ignore it?”

His phone. Buzzing. With a message.

Damn it.

Not now, not now, his brain chanted as he hoped the text was something simple. He received countless memos. But this wasn’t his regular phone. It was his second, for official business. His instincts told him the news would be bad, and for Annie’s sake he needed to know sooner rather than later.

He reached into his pocket and thumbed through the code to read… A series of numbers scrolled across his screen. A code, rather than words, in case his phone was compromised.

A code he knew meant only one thing.

He cursed the timing and his duty. This was not the way this evening was supposed to end. He jammed his phone back in his pack and clasped Annie’s arm with purpose rather than passion.

“Sam? What’s wrong? Where are we going?”

He couldn’t believe all that he was giving up tonight. But he didn’t dare look at her right now or he would forget all about his job.

“I don’t have time to explain, but I know who you are. Your identity has been compromised. Melanie Carson, I work for Interpol and I need to take you into protective custody.”

Stella sat in the middle of her bed, legs crossed, rocking back and forth. A small corner of her brain registered that she was in shock, so she let Jose take over. They’d been lodged at a hotel near the airport, a blah place with plenty of amenities and none of the local flavor.

If she’d been in her right mind, she would have voiced how much she hated it and Jose would have grinned, then offered to distract her. Or checked them both into someplace more exotic. But all of that would have been wasted on her. She was too numb to feel or register anything other than the surreal discovery that everything she’d believed about her childhood, the memories that had shaped her, had all been lies.

He locked the door and closed the blinds, creating a cocoon for her to process, to grieve. She’d come to Africa to find out about her mom, but she’d never expected to find this. Her mind was still reeling with the fact that her mother had lied about everything. Stella forced steady breaths in and out, willing her heart to slow.

Smith had pulled her off the case the second he’d realized her mother was involved. But involved how? What had she been doing here? Stella’s image of her mom grew all the more complicated. Her mom hadn’t been on Peace Corps missions. Her mother had been serving the government in some capacity. Her mother had been doing exactly what she did, probably since before Stella was born.

And her mother had died in the line of duty rather than on some random road trip from village to village between goodwill missions.

The truth had rocked her to the core.

Jose opened a water bottle and set it on the bedside table before he sat on the edge of the mattress, not talking, just waiting. Giving her space to deal with mind-blowing information at a time when she was already on shaky ground.

How was she supposed to sift through it all? She was such a mess she could hardly lift the water bottle from the end table. Hand shaking, she brought it to her lips. Three gulps later, she wasn’t any steadier. The words welled inside her without any organization at all. No surprise since the walls of logic had been blasted away.

“My mom was in and out of my life so often when I was a kid. We made big memories when she was home.” She squeezed the bottle, the plastic crackling in her hand, water sloshing up and over. “It was like being with her was always a huge party.”

“What about your dad?” Jose took the bottle from her hand. “Wasn’t that tough for him, her being the good guy while he managed the daily grind?”

He spoke with an understanding that pierced through her fog, making her think of him as a kid and teenager, taking care of himself while his parents ignored the real problem. The only time he’d had anyone on his side was during that time his grandmother lived with them.

“I honestly don’t recall my father complaining.” But then she questioned her perceptions today. Big time. “He really tried. He shared lots of stories about my mom when she was overseas… and after she died… to keep her alive in my mind. She was artsy. My dad kept all her crafts, even after she died.”

“He cared about her.”

“I believe he did, but tonight I’m not sure I trust my instincts anymore.” She pressed her palms to her temples. “I missed the signs from Harper. I obviously didn’t have a clue about my own mother…”

He clasped her wrists, thumbing her pulse. “Remember what you said earlier? You’re not a robot. You’re human and you did the best you could. Your best helped us catch Sutton Harper before he hurt anyone. And your best found the answers about your mom in spite of all the odds. From where I’m sitting, you’re mighty damn amazing.”

“Then why do I feel like such a failure?” She blinked back the tears and drew the stiff quilted bedspread around her legs. “I love my job. I love serving my country, but…”

“Hey, now, stop.” He grabbed her shoulders, his strength so welcome especially now when she was falling apart. “This is adrenaline letdown talking. It’s been one of those razor’s edge days. Hell, my heart is about to pound out of my chest too.”

The tears burned hotter and fuller. “I think I’m done, Jose. The life of a field operative is short for a reason and I’m afraid I’ve pushed the odds to the limit with this mission.”

She needed objectivity and she didn’t have it. She couldn’t live with the fear that she’d begun losing it after the split with Jose, because that would mean she’d been doing her job at half speed, compromising the integrity of her work. Jose started to interrupt, but she needed to talk this through. To get it all out there.

“I’m ready to move onto another phase of my career working for Interpol… or maybe I’ll transfer to a CIA or FBI office.” The plan came together, making sense. “Only a small fraction of us do wet work in the field like this. I’m done, damn it. I’m done.”

“You say that like you’re serious.”

“Because I am.” She stroked her hand over his hair that had dried sticking up in places from a decontamination shower. “I also understand you’re not ready to dry off your feet. Maybe you never will be.”

He scowled. “Are you booting me out?”

She didn’t know what she was doing other than lashing out, the pain inside her expanding until she had to have relief. “I’m starting to really understand now. You never wanted this to work between us, not really.”

“I offered to marry you.”

“Offered?” Her eyebrows shot up along with her blood pressure. “Offered? Actually, the way I remember it,
I
proposed to
you
. But hey, let’s not quibble when you were so generous. Other than the fact I want kids and you won’t even consider it.”

“And I want this fucking genetic curse to end with me,” he snapped, his patience visibly fraying.

Of course he had almost been taken out by a horrific weapon of mass destruction. But the day had hardly been a picnic for her either. The fury inside her roared louder. “Then adopt.”

“I swear to God, if you recite another study about the power of believing in yourself, I’m going to lose it. Damn it, you know what happened with my sister, to my nephew…”

Oh God, what was she doing here? Her anger deflated in a flash as she thought about the night he’d told her about his nephew, about the horrific accident. “Shhh… Shhh.” She leaned forward on her knees, her fingers over his lips. “You’re right. Let’s not talk about that. I don’t want to hurt you, and heaven knows I don’t want to fight with you. It makes me get too fired up and the last thing I need to be right now is emotional around you.”

He grasped her hand, gripping a hint too tightly, and kissed her fist, hard. The ache in her chest pushed the tears the rest of the way free, in big gulping sobs. Jose hauled her to his chest and she let the tears flow out, along with so many tangled emotions. The horror of a cruel world. The betrayal by her mother. The fear of losing Jose.

She was through. Through chasing ghosts. Through believing in dreams or even hoping for the future. She wasn’t going to die in some godforsaken country alone, like her mom, without ever really connecting with anyone in order to keep the job safe. Anonymous.

Screw. That.

She wasn’t going to be another statistic spit out by a code-breaking program—a name with no real roots. She wasn’t sacrificing the chance at a real family to the almighty job.

Gasping, she gripped Jose’s shoulders tighter, her nails digging deep as she soaked his shirt with her pain. She hurt so damn bad and right now his arms were the only thing keeping her from shattering altogether.

His hands soothed along her spine, her braid brushing his wrists. He tugged the band loose and threaded his fingers through, loosening the thick mass, massaging her scalp. Her body melted into his. The sharp edge of her pain found another channel, another outlet.

Desire.

***

Jose felt the sensual shift in her, and God, he wanted her too. Always.

But he wasn’t so sure this was the right time or the right reason. “Stella, you’re…”

“Damn it, Jose.” She angled back to stare at him, her chest heaving. “Don’t tell me about adrenaline letdown or misplaced emotions. I do the same kind of work you do. I’ve been to all the same training and psych briefings. I get it. And I don’t care. I need this. I need you.”

She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it upward, pressing her mouth to his heartbeat. He’d always taken such care with her, working his ass off to give her all the romance, finesse—hell, foreplay—that he could muster without losing complete control of himself.

Right now, control was tougher than ever to find. He’d been through hell today too. Not because he’d feared dying, but because he’d been scared as hell he might not make it in time to save Stella. So damn all the reasons why this was a bad, bad idea.

They were here, together, alive, and they both needed this. They needed each other.

Stella nipped his earlobe. Hard. “You’re falling behind here. Help me undress.”

She’d already gotten his shirt off and was well on her way to tugging down his camo pants. Blood slugged through his veins, surging below his belt. Stella’s touch, her words, the woman herself set him on fire. He peeled her tunic away and worked her jeans free, until they kicked the pants over near their shoes by the door. Her hands stroked his body with the familiarity of a lover, lower, cradling him. He gritted his teeth to fight back the urge to come in her hand.

Then she knelt and took him in her mouth. He palmed the wall to keep from falling. The sweep of her tongue, the moist warmth. His head fell back and he was a second away from losing total control. His hands fell to her shoulders.

Hauling her up again, he sealed their lips and their bodies, falling onto the bed. They rolled as dominance flipped back and forth between them until he pinned her, kissed his way down her neck, along her shoulder to the curve of her breast. He captured her nipple between his teeth, teasing, flicking with his tongue until she squirmed beneath, her breathy moans demanding more. He was more than willing to deliver. He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the water bottle.

Trickle by trickle, he dribbled water between her breasts. She gasped as the first droplets hit her. She hissed as he sipped them. He took that as a yes to keep right on going, down her stomach, between her legs, tasting until the bottle was empty. He flung it away and kept right on pleasuring her, which pleasured him.

She gripped his shoulders, tugged at his hair, her hands frantic until he slid up over her. Into her. And while he’d enjoyed the hell out of their all night lovemaking in the past, he already knew this was going to be hard and fast. He could barely hold onto his control now with the warm, moist clamp of her drawing him in deeper. Her legs locked around his waist and she moved with him, her eyes open and telling him she was right there with him, so close to the edge on a day that had brought them both to the brink of a cliff.

The spread and top sheet tangled in his feet, and he kicked them to the floor. Her hands flung back and she grabbed the headboard, arching up to him, crying out as she milked every last pulse from her orgasm. Watching the flush spread up her chest, goose bumps prickling along her flesh, sent a primal wave of satisfaction through him. His hands gripped over hers as he finished and knew he was only one thrust away from jetting his release hot and deep inside her.

And in the most insane thought of his already screwed up life, he imagined filling her with his baby. A growl of denial followed close on the heels of that thought. Even knowing about her birth control implant, he couldn’t stop himself.

He pulled out.

Collapsing on top of her, his release throbbing between them, he buried his face in her neck. But he couldn’t hide from himself or the knowledge that he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her everything.

***

Stella curled up in the armchair, her head against the windowpane as she looked out at the road below, dark other than streetlamps and passing cars. The airport lights blinked two blocks away where the investigation would continue without her. Cop cars were parked at every corner, no doubt a by-product of the near miss with a deadly nerve toxin less than twenty-four hours ago.

She wrapped a kanga around her like a thin blanket, a benign cloth of blues and greens with a message along the border that probably said something like
live
long
and
prosper.
Jose had bought it for her a month ago when they’d snuck away to Kenya for a weekend. Their last weekend together before she’d gone undercover with the students.

God, so much had happened since that memorable, heartbreaking night. Yet it still felt like she’d packed a lifetime of stress into this day.

Her nerves were ragged, totally shot in more ways than one. Apparently all that happened hadn’t left Jose unmarked either. She’d sensed an edge to him, a desperation even when they’d been together.

They’d had sex three times tonight. Sex. Not making love. She knew the difference. But that’s what she’d asked for from him in bed. In the shower. Then on the dresser as they’d made their way back into the room before collapsing on the mattress, exhausted enough to sleep through the demons that would haunt their dreams.

He slept still, sprawled out with the sheet twisted around his waist. Turning away from the heart-tugging sight of him, she drew the coarse cloth tighter around her, watching the lights blink—still all too aware of the man sleeping just a few feet away. Could she walk away from Jose a second time?

He had damn good reasons for his fears about a commitment, about building a family together. A part of her whispered that she should just give in, take what he offered and be grateful.

Her fists tightened until her fingernails poked holes in the fabric. Damn it, Jose was breaking her heart all over again, just like he’d done a month ago…

***

“Any idea how long you’ll be undercover as a student?”

“Not a clue.” Stella looped the blue and green sarong around her again and again, checking in the mirror to make sure she got it just right. She spun back to face Jose. “And if I did know and I told you, then I would have to kill you.”