Danger Zone (7 page)

“Thank you,” she murmured as he deposited her on the bottom step, still a little startled by the abrupt change in transportation.

He gave her the shoes and then took her hand when she was ready, leading her back to their table.

There was only one other couple still in the restaurant, and their waiter was hovering anxiously, wondering what had become of them.

“You can take this away,” Colter said to him as they resumed their seats, waving his hand at their abandoned plates. He looked at Karen. “Would you like anything else?”

“Just coffee,” she said.

“
Dos cafes
,” Colter told the waiter, and then settled back in his chair, his blue eyes searching Karen’s face.

“I want to tell you something,” he said.

“Yes?”

“You were right about my being able to do something else. I joined the army at sixteen, and they trained me in electronics. I tried it but couldn’t stay; it was just too boring sitting at an instrument panel hour after hour. So when I left the service I started to hire myself out for the other skills I’d learned there, and I’ve been doing that ever since.”

“Why are you saying this now?” Karen asked quietly.

“I blew up because you touched a nerve,” he answered. “I don’t like being reminded how people like you see me.”

“Now you’re making generalizations,” Karen said. “I know I sounded like I was criticizing you but I was really just trying to understand.” She stopped for a moment and then added, “I don’t know how you cope with the isolation. You’re all alone in the world.”

He shrugged. “Why not? I don’t need anybody.”

Karen sighed. “I’m afraid I do. I’m always in touch with my sister, and even though Ian and I are divorced we still write and try to see each other when we can. I just can’t let go of the people I care for. I never could. I’m sure Ian loved me, but it was more like a father’s love, and when he saw that it was best he was able to let me go.”

Colter turned his head. “I wouldn’t know about that,” he said bluntly. “Nobody ever loved me that much.”

Karen didn’t know what to say. He was such a curious combination, seemingly aloof yet given to sudden offhand remarks that were oddly revealing. It kept her constantly off balance.

The coffee came and they sat drinking it, intensely aware of each other and what had passed between them on the beach. Finally the restaurant was closing and they got up to go. As they walked outside Karen saw by the church tower clock across the square that it was after midnight.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” she said. They were passing a lilac bush, and she paused to inhale the fragrance of the lush blooms.

“Time flies when you’re fighting,” he said dryly. He picked a purple cluster and tucked it behind her ear, arranging her hair to accommodate it.

“How do I look?” she asked, striking a pose.

“Like the heroine in a Bizet opera,” he replied. “You know, with your coloring you could almost be Latin.”

Karen shook her head. “Black Irish. The skin is the giveaway. All my life I’ve wanted that lovely matte olive complexion that’s supposed to go with dark eyes and dark hair, but what did I get instead? Irish linen. I burn in the sun and chap in the cold.”

He chuckled. “Remind me not to bring you along on a camping trip.”

“Camping? Oh, camping is my specialty. Contact dermatitis from the hard water and terminal poison ivy. I was the only Girl Scout who never went on the jamboree; the counselors refused to take me. My mother said the sensitive skin ran in my father’s family.”

Colter was grinning, swinging her hand in his as they walked along.

“Walsh is your maiden name, then?”

“Yes, I went back to it after my divorce.”

“Well, at least you know what your real name is,” he said as he pushed the door of the hotel open and she preceded him through it.

She stopped walking and looked up at him.

“Did you ever try to find your parents?” she asked quietly.

His jaw hardened. “No. They didn’t want me, and as far as I’m concerned that’s the end of it.”

They ascended to the second floor and walked down the corridor, stopping outside Karen’s door. There was a silence while they both tried to decide what to say.

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” Karen finally whispered.

“Hey,” he said, tipping her chin up with his forefinger, “never say never.” He kissed her cheek lightly, then turned his head and captured her mouth with his.

This time he pressed her right from the start, pushing her back against the wall and enveloping her with his body. Lowering his head, he dragged his lips across her throat and tongued the hollow between her breasts. Karen arched into him, sinking her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes. She was certain she should stop him, but was unwilling to end the delicious sensation of his hands and mouth on her skin. When he kissed her again, more urgently, she swayed on her feet, clinging to him for support as her defenses dissolved.

“Let’s go inside,” he said huskily, his breath fanning her face. He took her key from her hand.

“No,” she replied, with surprising strength.

“Come on,” he urged in a low tone, caressing her. “You want me.”

She did, but at the instant that she almost gave in she had a sudden image of every other woman he had said the same thing to, women who’d responded to his undeniable allure in the way she was responding now. She knew that he was a womanizer, forced by his inclination as well as his lifestyle to take his pleasure where he found it. And she couldn’t join a list of forgotten conquests. She needed him to remember her, if only because she was the one who got away.

“I want you,” she said quietly, “but I’m not going to bed with you.”

He stared down at her, still breathing hard, his hair mussed by her hands. His gaze was heated, incandescent. Then when he realized she meant it, he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

“I don’t believe this,” he said. “Remember me? I’m the guy who saved you.”

Karen smiled. “As I recall, I already thanked you for that.”

He shook his head, half laughing. “This can’t be happening,” he said. “Women are crazy about me.”

Karen didn’t doubt it. She reached up and touched his cheek. He opened his eyes.

“Can I give you my sister’s address and phone number?” she asked softly.

“Why?” he inquired, studying her, his expression sober now.

“In case you ever feel like you want to talk to somebody.”

“Talk?” he asked.

“Talk.”

She took a slip of paper from her purse and wrote down the information. He folded the sheet in half and stuck it into his breast pocket.

“I have to tell you that ‘talking’ isn’t the reason I usually take a girl’s number,” he said dryly.

“I know that,” Karen replied. “Make an exception in my case.” She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and was suddenly afraid she was going to cry. “Steven, please take care of yourself.”

“I always do.”

“Who else was it who used to call you Steven?” she asked, delaying his departure. She didn’t want to let him go.

“One of the nuns at the foundling home. She was.. .good to me.”

“Do you ever see her now?”

He shook his head once. “She’s dead.”

Karen put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ll be thinking about you,” she murmured.

He tucked his hand under her hair, lifting it off her neck. “Don’t think about me, Karen. Go back to New Jersey and get married and have a couple of kids. Years from now I’ll be that guy you kissed on a beach someplace. You probably won’t even remember my name.”

“I’ll remember,” she whispered.

He took hold of her arms and held her off, disengaging her embrace. “Good night, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Goodbye, Steven.” Karen was blinking rapidly, seeing him through a mist of unshed tears.

“Goodbye.” She watched him walk to the elevator, which responded instantly when he pressed the button. He saluted as he stepped through the doors and she didn’t go into her room until he was out of sight.

Karen sat on the edge of her bed and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Had she done the right thing? She told herself that she had, but already she was regretting her loss.

It was several seconds before she noticed that the red call light on her phone was blinking. She picked up the receiver and asked for the message.

Her plane ticket and traveling papers were being held for her at the desk. She asked for them to be sent up to her room and had just hung up the phone when someone tapped at her door.

“Darling, it’s me,” Linda’s voice said. “May I come in?”

Karen got up and opened the door. Linda breezed past her in an elaborate lace peignoir set and high heeled lounge slippers. She was carrying a tray holding a teapot and a plate covered by a cloth napkin.

“So how was the big date?” she asked, setting down her burden on the end table. “Tell Mother all about it.”

Karen faced her.

“Oh dear,” Linda said, observing her friend’s expression. “He really got to you, didn’t he?”

“I guess so.”

“What happened?”

“We ate dinner, and he ordered me some fish dish with clay in it, and then we had a fight, and he kissed me on the beach, and then he wanted to sleep with me but I said no.”

Linda nodded with relish. “Well,” she said briskly. “I knew he wouldn’t be dull. Was that ‘clay,’ darling, or is my hearing failing?”

“Yeah, but it’s not worth going into,” Karen replied wearily.

Linda poured herself a cup of tea and settled comfortably on the bed. “Why did you say no? To sleeping with him, I mean. Just as a matter of academic interest, you understand.”

“He’s so alone. It seemed like it would add to that loneliness if I became another sexual statistic in his life. Does that make sense?”

“Don’t ask me,” Linda said dismissively. “You don’t make sense half the time but I love you anyway. What was the fight about?”

“I asked why he was a mercenary when there were so many other things he could do.”

“My, that was impertinent. What did he say?”

“He told me to mind my own business.”

“Quite right, too. Advice I never take, by the way, but well worth repeating.” She removed the cloth from the plate of biscuits and held one out to Karen. “These are very good. They’re something called
dulcettas
, which as near as I can make out means ‘sweeties.’ I’ve been eating them all evening while watching a Brazilian soap opera on television. I didn’t even know they had soap operas in Brazil—did you? How about some tea? ”

“Okay, thanks.”

A bellboy knocked and delivered Karen’s envelope as Linda was pouring her drink. She was booked on the noon plane back to Newark, nonstop, the next day.

“British efficiency,” Linda said when she saw what Karen had received. “I got mine this evening. They’re certainly giving us the boot in short order, aren’t they?”

“I guess they figure that the sooner we’re home, the sooner all of this will be forgotten.” 

“I picked up a little tidbit about your friend Colter after you left tonight,” Linda said mysteriously as she handed Karen her cup. 

Karen stared at her. 

“What?”

Linda batted her eyelashes.

“Linda, tell me.”

“Well, you know that man from the embassy, the friend of my father’s?”

“Yes?” Karen said impatiently.

“He told me that Colter is a specialist in the type of rescue work he did for us, going into siege situations and breaking hostages out. Apparently he’s called in on that sort of thing constantly and it’s about all he does. As you can imagine with the state of the world these days, he’s in great demand.”

“He never told me that,” Karen said, almost to herself. “Even when I questioned his ethics, he didn’t say a word about it. He led me to believe he was just a soldier of fortune—you know, a guy who would do anything if the price were right.”

“Well, darling, I’m sure he’s well paid. I doubt if he’s running a charity bazaar for the anti-terrorist set.”

“Still, it’s not the same. He’s really an expert at getting people out of trouble, isn’t he?”

Linda studied her closely and sighed. “‘Better drink that cuppa, Karen; this could be worse than I thought. This may indeed be love, the big one, with a capital L.”

“Oh, stop making fun of me,” Karen said impatiently, “and listen. If what you’re telling me is the truth, I can’t understand why he would deliberately let me think the worst of him.”

“Testing you, perhaps?” Linda asked.

“Maybe,” Karen replied thoughtfully. “You could be right. He’s a complex man.”

“That,” Linda said, sitting up and setting her cup in its saucer, “I gathered.”

“I get the impression he’s afraid to want things, or people, too much, because that would make him vulnerable.”

“You figured out a lot about him in one evening,” Linda observed.

“He’s not as clever as he thinks. He gives some things away if you watch for them. And I was watching. Besides, it was two evenings. I spent the night on the boat with him too.”

Linda’s green eyes widened. “So that’s where you were! And you told me you fell asleep on deck. Naughty girl.”

“I did fall asleep. When I woke up in the morning he was gone. You see what I mean? We had kind of an intense conversation, and I think it took him by surprise, made him uncomfortable. He ran from it then, but later he asked me out. He was drawn to me, but not enough to overcome his past experiences. He believes that if he remains aloof he’ll never have to let down his guard.”

“He’s right, isn’t he?”

“Sometimes you have to take that chance.”

“No, you don’t,” Linda replied simply. “You can choose to be alone.”

“That’s what he’s done,” Karen said. “Or maybe it wasn’t a choice at first. He was an orphan and raised in a home. That might be why he’s so wary. I volunteered to give him my address, something I’ve never done before, because I knew he wouldn’t ask for it. And at the same time I could tell he really liked me, but he wasn’t willing to get that involved.”

“Sounds like you might have gotten to him, too,” Linda said quietly. “That’s a pretty defensive reaction for a man who doesn’t care.”