Tyler brushed a kiss over the side of her head. The scope of her fiancé’s betrayal was far worse than he could have guessed. The trust she’d shown by opening up about it was humbling. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to hit something. Hell, he wanted to get Emily alone and make love to her until she forgot about the last man who had used her.
Only, that would be him, too.
Chapter 6
E
mily carried her notes to the window seat, sat at one end and loosened the belt of her robe so she could draw up her legs. The palace was already stirring. Quiet voices rose from the courtyard below as a group of gardeners in green coveralls weeded their way across the flowerbeds. Down the hall, a door closed quietly from the direction of the envoy’s suite. She guessed she’d have another thirty minutes at most before Tyler came to let her know the schedule for the day.
She wasn’t sure how she’d face him. It had been hard enough having to act cool the morning after their kiss. What she’d done last evening had been even more intimate.
She’d confided in him. That was something she rarely did. Confessions were considered community property in her family, indeed in much of her town, so she’d learned early on to keep the things that hurt the worst to herself. Although the bare facts of her farce of an engagement had become public knowledge back home as soon as the fraud squad had shown up, she’d never shared her pain with anyone. No one would have expected her to, anyway. She’d spent too many years honing her defenses and her reputation. Not many people bothered to look further.
Yet with a few quiet words, Tyler had opened the floodgate. She’d been helpless to stop before she’d poured out the whole sordid story. She should be feeling horrible and awkward and prickly enough to screw a set of sharp spikes into her armor.
Only, she didn’t feel bad. She felt good. Better than she had in days. Weeks. Tyler had told her she was a passionate woman. A strong woman. Then he had listened without judging and had dried her tears and held her hand as if he truly cared.
She ground the heels of her hands against her eyes. Her imagination was running away with her. Tyler’s sisters had probably taught him how to be a good listener. He was a nice guy, that’s all. And for all she knew, his sympathy could have been in the line of duty, so her emotional state wouldn’t stop her from helping the team identify El Gato. He’d said as much before, when they’d been on that first stakeout. And only yesterday he’d reminded her that his duty always came first. She’d be a fool to read anything more into it.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up her notebook and opened it to a fresh page. Regardless of how…therapeutic her confession had felt, getting material for her article was her only goal. She’d made that clear last night. It’s why she’d gotten up at sunrise, so she could go over what she had gathered and start fleshing out her notes. It was already day five of the mission. Only another four days and it would be over. She had to keep her priorities straight, the same way she was sure that Tyler was.
She leaned over to read the sheet that was on top of the stack of printouts beside her knee. The pile was smaller than she would have liked, since most of the newspapers in the library archives had been in Spanish. This item supported what Tyler had already told her about the widespread corruption among the local police. Though it appeared the worst offenders had been weeded out, she was grateful that Tyler had stopped her from contacting them. She jotted down the main points, cross-checked with other articles to ensure she had the dates and names correct, then worked her way through the rest of the pile.
She intended to hold Helen Haggerty to her word about an interview when the mission was over. She would probably need to hold off on revealing anything about the proposed base until the government was ready to make an official announcement, so maybe she could combine that with an in-depth piece on the envoy. Either way, she would still have the jump on any other reporters. Who knows, if Emily were lucky, Helen might feel grateful enough for her help on this mission to give her contacts in the government that could lead to other stories.
Yet that was for the future. She needed to establish her credentials first if she wanted to work in the big leagues. It was the article on Eagle Squadron that was going to open the doors for her. Being embedded for this mission was the chance of a lifetime. The personal details that she had gathered about the commandos so far wouldn’t go to waste, either. Describing the personalities of the soldiers behind the mission would add a depth to her writing that no mere press release could duplicate.
She closed her notebook, picked up her camera and began to click through the photos she’d taken during the excursion to the Juarez compound. She’d been frustrated by the restrictions on photographing within the palace, but as it turned out, she couldn’t have asked for better lighting or a more dramatic backdrop for the team than the lush tangle of Rocama’s rain forest. Though her camera was only a low-end digital model, all she’d needed for her job at the
Packenham Observer,
some of these shots could pass for professional quality. They would be more than adequate to illustrate her article.
She’d caught the major’s granite jaw perfectly, as well as the silver at his temples. As she’d suspected, he looked pure military even in civilian clothes. She’d snapped a picture of Kurt Lang sharing a quiet laugh with Gonzo while they went about the grim business of checking their weapons. Another of Duncan and Jack, looking rugged and protective as the petite, gray-haired Helen Haggerty walked past them. But the best photo was of Tyler. He was walking ahead of her, with his head partly turned so that his profile was backlit by a shaft of sunlight. The effect softened his features in a way that hinted at the sensitive man beneath the controlled facade.
It was amazing how deceptive appearances could be. At first glance, Tyler looked cool and distant. Christopher had been the opposite. He’d been convivial and charming. Handsome, too, with soulful brown eyes and a ready smile. He’d liked to talk even more than Emily did. They’d met at an estate auction near Madison when she’d been scouting around for an antique washstand to fill an empty corner in her apartment. One cup of coffee had led to another, and they’d ended up talking until dawn at an all-night diner.
She’d been flattered by his attention. Looking back on it, she could see that very first marathon conversation had given him the key that had allowed him to play her. Because only a very lonely woman would stay up all night to talk with a stranger. He’d picked up on other cues and exploited them, too: her impatience with the limitations of her small town. Her restlessness with her job. And most important of all, her yearning to be loved.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to love someone, Emily.
She touched her fingers to Tyler’s image as she remembered his words. He’d made it sound simple. Before her experience with Christopher, she might have thought so. Not any longer. Too bad she hadn’t met Tyler first.
Yet if it hadn’t been for Christopher, she wouldn’t have come to Rocama and met Tyler.
Christopher had never told her she was strong. She suspected he wouldn’t have considered strength in a woman to be attractive. He’d liked treating her as if she were precious and delicate. That had been a novelty for Emily, and it had lulled her into dropping her guard. He’d treated her gently in the bedroom, too. The sex had been satisfying, not spectacular, but she’d never known spectacular so it hadn’t mattered. She had planned on building a life with him. There were far more important aspects to a marriage than sex.
Sure. So she’d told herself. Nevertheless, she’d been hoping to heat things up with her groom. That’s why she’d chosen to buy a suitcase full of sexy clothes for their honeymoon.
I’ve seen you naked. No amount of sexy underwear could improve on that.
Her lips curved. Tyler could say the most provocative things and make them sound like fact. Then again, if the kiss they’d shared was anything to go by, sex with him
would
be spectacular.
Yet how much of what she was feeling was only a rebound from Christopher? She had to be careful. Her emotions were still too raw for her to trust them. And she couldn’t forget that her association with Tyler would end along with the mission. It was pointless to feel anything toward him.
Emily switched off her camera, turned her face toward the window and took a deep breath of the muggy air. The gardeners who had been weeding the flowerbeds had finished their task and were heading out of the courtyard. It must be later than she’d realized. She slid her feet to the floor, deciding she’d better put on some clothes before Tyler got here, when movement near the fountain caught her attention. One of the gardeners hadn’t left with the others. He was leaning over the basin at the foot of the fountain, his arm dipped into the water to his elbow.
That was odd, she thought. He glanced around in a way that seemed almost furtive. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be muddying the fountain by washing his hands in it, but if he were washing, wouldn’t he be putting both hands in the water?
The man straightened up quickly and looked toward the second-floor windows. Something metallic gleamed in his hand. And for a split second, Emily felt the impact of his dead black gaze.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped, scrambling to her feet. She knew that face. She knew that expression, too. It was as flat and indifferent as a snake’s.
There was no room for doubt. Instinct bypassed her conscious thought and she was across the room before she knew it. She yanked open the door and skidded barefoot into the hall.
Jack and Duncan were at the far end of the corridor, already in position outside the envoy’s suite. They looked toward her, their mouths slightly open.
Belatedly she realized she hadn’t fastened her robe. “El Gato,” she yelled, clutching the edges together. “He’s in the courtyard.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Jack asked.
“Yes. One hundred percent positive.”
Both men took guns from beneath their suit jackets, but only Duncan ran forward. He pointed at Emily. “Stay with Sergeant Norton,” he ordered as he passed by.
“He’s dressed like one of the gardeners,” she called after him. “Dark green coveralls.”
He repeated what she’d told him into his radio, bypassed the main staircase and went to the door that led to the servants’ stairs.
Emily had fastened her belt and had taken an involuntary step after Duncan when she was stopped by Jack’s voice. “Don’t even think about it this time, ma’am. You know the drill. For all our sakes, you need to stay here.”
She whirled. “Then you warn him. I saw El Gato take something from the fountain. It could have been a knife.”
Jack relayed the information through his radio immediately. Before he had finished, Emily ran back into her room and across the floor to the window.
The courtyard was empty. There was no sign of El Gato or any of the gardeners. She pushed aside her notes, grabbed her camera and climbed to stand on the window seat. Bracing one hand on the window frame, she peered straight down so that she could see the base of the wall. No one was there, either.
The wooden door at the bottom of the servants’ stairs slammed open. Duncan burst into the courtyard, his pistol gripped in both hands. Seconds later, a pair of Palace Guards came through the doors from the first-floor portrait gallery. Several more came through the arched carriageway that led to the gates. The calm of the morning was shattered by the tread of boots and the crackle of radios.
“Emily, get down from there!”
She turned her head and saw Tyler striding through the open door to her room. She returned her gaze to the window. “I can’t see him. I don’t know how he could have gotten away so fast.”
“Now!” he said, clamping his hands on her hips. He lifted her off the window seat and swung her to the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You’ve got no reason to yell at me! I stayed put this time, just like Duncan and Jack said. I wasn’t—”
“You were standing in the window. You were making yourself a target.”
“I was trying to get a picture of him. I wish I’d thought of doing that before I ran out to warn— Hey!”
He took her camera and lobbed it on the window seat, then pulled her farther into the room. “Your story’s not worth your life.”
“It wasn’t for my story. Having a photo of El Gato would help your mission.”
“Leave that to us.”
“Why are you still shouting?”
“Your door was wide open. You had your back to it.”
“Duncan had just gone down those stairs. No one could have gotten past him already.”
“If El Gato got past palace security, he could be anywhere.”
“Oh, there’s no ‘if’ about it. I saw him. Right outside my window.”
“Dammit, Emily. You’ve got to be more careful.”
Her sharp retort died on her lips. The worry on his face was unmistakable. She understood how he felt; they’d been through this before. She put her palm on his cheek. “Tyler…”
He steadied her face between his hands and kissed her.
It knocked her breathless. It wasn’t anything like their first kiss. He wasn’t concerned about finding the right angle or being gentle this time. Without any preliminaries, he gave her one bold thrust of his tongue, filling her mouth with his warmth and his taste.
Her pulse leaped in response. She parted her lips in an instinctive welcome, drew him in hard, then gave back as good as she got.
He groaned and lifted his head. “Dammit, Emily.”
It was the same thing he’d said before the kiss, but his voice had become a hoarse whisper.
She ran her tongue along her upper lip. It felt numb and tingly at the same time. Absolutely wonderful.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. This isn’t why I came here.”
“Then why did you?”
“I wanted to make sure you were safe. We’re locking down the palace while we do a room-by-room search.”
“And I suppose you thought it would be a good idea if you started by searching my throat?”