Captive of Fate (12 page)

“That if Thornton finds out you’re consorting with his arch enemy your job will be on the line?”

She avoided his gaze, his honesty jarring her. Alanna felt small and guilty. “That’s part of it. But more importantly, if he finds out about how I feel it will discredit the report I have to do on you. If I turn up nothing conclusive, he’s going to badger me for some silly detail. And if I provide none and it gets back to him we were sleeping in a tent together, he may think I’m covering up something, trying to protect you.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry.”

He finished his coffee. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, and your worry is understandable under the circumstances.”

She entwined her fingers in her lap, twisting them. “You seem to take such gigantic hurdles with such ease, Matt. Most men would be angry or upset. There seems to be no way I can help; a good report can be as damaging as a bad one.”

He got up, gathered the plates, and took them out to the radio room. The hollow sound of his boots striking the wooden floor was somehow soothing. He sat down close to her, his hands closed around his drawn-up legs. “Look, I’ve been dogged by the senator before, but this is the first time I stood to gain something from it. I met you.” He grinned. “I don’t feel angry or upset, lady, I feel impatient waiting for you. But where I come from, they believe in old-fashioned ways, such as long courtships.”

She gave a laugh. “So you’re used to waiting?”

He grinned. “Not often, but when something’s worth waiting for, I have all the patience in the world.”

Alanna suddenly felt panicky. “Matt, I’m afraid….”

He untangled her fingers, holding her right hand firmly within his own. “Why?”

“I’m afraid,” she blurted out unsteadily, “of myself…of you. If you acted like those guys up on the Hill, I’d probably feel more secure about you and myself. But I don’t,” she added unhappily.

He didn’t say anything for a long time, simply tracing the outline of her fingers. “Perhaps the men you’ve been meeting lately are out for a few nights of entertainment, Alanna. When I meet a woman who interests me, I like to take the time to get to know her. One of the many things I learned coming out of that war was to live each day like it was my last. That doesn’t mean compressing a lifetime into twenty-four hours. It means capturing each nuance.” He turned his head, studying her openly. “Like you, for instance. I love watching the color of your eyes change with your moods. Or those strands of hair at your temples that curl in the humidity. I like to hear you laugh. It’s like listening to the bells at an old California mission, so clear and pure.” He gave her fingers a squeeze, then released them.

“I understand the predicament you’re in, and I don’t want you to lose your job. I think I know what it means to you. So no more worry in those lovely eyes of yours. Let’s get your investigation completed and sent off to Thornton and then pick up where we left off. Fair enough?”

*

Alanna packed her meager belongings, anxious to board the helicopter. She stood behind Matt, out of the way of the hustle and bustle as he gave last-minute instructions to the men in his command. With the advent of good weather, the airlift of supplies, and the hospitalization of most of the injured completed, the pressure had eased off.

Matt finally turned to her, walking over to lead her out the door.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling.

She detected a subtle warmth and excitement in his eyes. Returning the smile she whispered, “Yes.”

Her spiraling mood of happiness quickly disappeared as her glance met Jim Cauley’s suspicious look. Pursing her lips, she strapped herself into the seat behind the pilot’s and said little else. As always, he and Matt donned the headset and conversed with one another freely. Alanna concentrated on the scenery, noting the various shades of green in the jungle far below them. The mountains were clean looking from the recent rain, and the sun was brilliant and hot. With a wry smile, she looked down at her feet. Her shoes were ruined, and her slacks were stained and muddied. What would the people at the hotel think? How would her colleagues react if they ever saw her in this disheveled state? She longed to bathe and wash her hair, to don a feminine dress, anxious to show Matt that she could be beautiful.

A small voice whispered to her, But he finds you beautiful anyway. She leaned her head against the fuselage, closing her eyes, contented.

*

The hotel clerk’s pencil-thin eyebrows rose in horror as Matt walked into the plushly carpeted lobby in his field boots and well-worn utilities. The clerk’s eyes traveled to Alanna, and the brows fell into an angle of suspicion. She saw several American hotel guests studying them with frank surprise. Their looks had not gone unnoticed by Matt, and he leaned over, his voice a confidential whisper.

“You sure you don’t want to give a fictitious name? We’re getting a lot of stares.”

She grinned. “What, and ruin my image?”

“If this ever gets back to the Hill, you’ll be a fallen woman among your friends,” he suggested mockingly.

Her eyes gleamed. “You know, for the first time in my life, I don’t care.”

Matt squeezed her elbow reassuringly. “That’s my gal. Do you want to do the honors of getting us rooms? I’m afraid this guy might lapse back into Spanish from sheer shock.”

Alanna suppressed a giggle. “Well, you have to admit, we wouldn’t make the best-dressed list.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Lady, you would look beautiful no matter what you did or didn’t wear, take my word for it.”

She blushed becomingly as they halted at the desk. Gathering her scattered thoughts, Alanna requested two rooms next to one another.

The clerk’s darting brown gaze traveled to each of them.
“Dos?”
he repeated disbelievingly.

Matt leaned over.
“Sí, dos,”

“And all along you said you didn’t know Spanish,” she accused.

“I understand it sometimes,” he admitted. “In this case, I can count to two in Spanish and get the point across to him before he faints.”

She swallowed a smile, unable to keep the merriment from her green eyes. The clerk meekly handed them keys, refusing to meet their eyes.

She padded down the carpeted expanse of the fourth floor hallway. “Matt, I feel like I’m in a dream. Carpeting. My God, this is an unheard of luxury!”

He stopped at her door, unlocking it and pushing it open. “Now you know how I felt when I returned from Nam. I was used to mud, water and the sky for a ceiling.”

She shook her head in amazement, stepping into the large, sunny room. “Two different worlds,” she murmured.

“Look, take your time getting cleaned up. I’m going to take a quick shower, change and make a few phone calls.” He looked at his watch. “How about lunch at one o’clock?”

That would give her two hours. “Sounds good.”

He placed her small suitcase beside the bed. “I’ll knock on your door,” he said, and then disappeared down the hall.

Alanna stripped off her smelly jungle clothes and dropped the shoes in the waste basket, mourning their loss. For the next half-hour, she stood beneath the hot, pummeling shower and scrubbed her hair until it was squeaky clean. Then she lathered herself with an apricot-scented soap. As she stepped from the bathroom wrapped in a large lemon yellow towel, she halted at the end of the bed. Should she lie down? Picking up her wrist watch, she noted that she had an hour and a half left. It looked so inviting…. Towel-drying her hair until it was only damp, Alanna slipped into her light blue robe and sank down onto the bed. Oh, what extravagance. Closing her eyes briefly, she dropped off into a deep, badly needed sleep.

A
n insistent knock at the door pulled her unwillingly out of the healing slumber. Groggily, Alanna stumbled off the bed, hands outstretched, vaguely aware that it was dark in her room. Groping for the knob, she fumbled with the lock and pulled the door open. The light was blinding, and she put up her hand, shielding her eyes momentarily.

Matt stood there in his khaki summer uniform, a slight smile on his mouth.

“Feel better?” he inquired.

She pushed several strands of hair away from her face. “What? Come in,” she mumbled. Turning, she went to sit on the bed, still fighting the stupor of sleep. Alanna heard the door being closed quietly and the sound of Matt walking over to the sliding glass doors and opening them. A fresh, cooling breeze entered the stuffy room.

“How long did I sleep?” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

He ambled over, taking his garrison cap off and tossing it on the bedstand. “It’s eight-thirty. Probably close to ten hours.”

She gasped. “No!”

He stood there, seemingly enjoying her drowsy state. “Hungry?”

Alanna suddenly became aware that she was wearing a very revealing robe. She felt her heart begin to beat faster. There was a curious gray flame within his eyes, a half-smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. A shiver coursed through her, and she felt both desirable and slightly frightened. The silken material of her robe outlined the curve of her rounded breasts, slender waist, and hips. Everything she wanted to say seemed to freeze on the tip of her tongue.

“I just got back from the Department of Transportation,” he began, moving to the balcony area. “I thought we might discuss what I discovered over dinner tonight.”

Whether he had understood her sudden discomfort and embarrassment or not, Alanna was thankful that he had turned away to give her time to scoop up her only set of clean clothes.

“I’d like that. Give me a minute, and I’ll join you.”

When she assessed herself in the bathroom mirror, Alanna wrinkled her nose. Somehow, she didn’t feel special or magical in a plain cotton blouse of mint green and a pair of blue jeans. Matt was still resting against the balcony, gazing out into the night, when she walked softly out onto the small terrace area to join him.

“You look terribly handsome in dress uniform,” she said, turning and catching his gray gaze.

“You mean you aren’t going to be embarrassed by eating dinner with a military man tonight?”

She gave a low laugh. “If you had asked me that question five days ago, I would have said yes.”

“Five days,” he reminisced. “It seems like years ago, doesn’t it?”

Alanna sobered, enjoying his closeness. “Yes, yes it does, Matt. Are you sure you won’t be embarrassed having dinner with someone from the Hill?” she teased. “This is probably a first.”

Matt smiles. “It is.”

“I suppose you stick to the Pentagon people for your friends and entertainment,” she prodded.

“And you stick to the Hill circuit and make all the parties,” he finished.

“Mmm, sometimes,” she hedged. “But with my busy schedule parties never have drawn me.”

“Oh? Why?” He was resting his elbows on the railing. But even when he was relaxed, there was something exciting about the way his body moved.

“I’m not a crowd person,” she explained. “I like to talk with one or two people instead of milling around like some cow in a herd.”

Matt smiled and ran his fingers through her loose, silken hair. “See, you have more country in your soul than you first thought.”

She shivered inwardly at his caressing, fleeting touch. “You don’t strike me as a man who enjoys parties either.”

“Never have. I’m like you in that respect, I enjoy a one-to-one relationship. See, we do have something in common.”

Alanna laughed with him, a new sense of joy bubbling up in her. She had caught up on her sleep and felt refreshed, and there was a delicious wave of excitement swirling between them.

“We have something else in common. I’m starved.”

He nodded, moving fluidly upright. “Let’s go then.”

“I’m just worried that they won’t let us in to eat dinner the way I’m dressed.”

His fingers closed around her elbow as he escorted her down the hall to the elevator. “We’ll eat here in the hotel. I don’t think anyone will say anything, so relax,” he soothed.

*

Alanna leaned forward and rested her elbows on the cleared table. The meal had been delicious. Matt was watching her through half-closed eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he inquired.

“You probably already know.”

“That you’re happy? And sharing a meal makes you think of old times at the base camp or up at San Dolega?”

Alanna returned his smile. “You’d better be careful, Matt, or I’ll think you’re a mind reader.”

He slid his hand across her fingers, picking them up and squeezing them. “I only read the minds of people who give away every emotion in their eyes and faces.”

She wrinkled her nose, acutely aware of the pressure of his strong fingers. “I just can’t believe I’m that readable. My God, how many times must Senator Thornton have seen what I was really thinking!”

He turned her hand over, lightly stroking her palm in an unhurried fashion. “Remember, not everyone has trained themselves in our nonverbal language,” he reminded her.

Alanna felt her pulse quicken at his knowing touch. Reluctantly, she drew her hand back. “What did you learn while I was out like a light?” she asked.

If Matt was disappointed by her gesture, he didn’t show it. Instead, he rested his jaw against his hands, appraising her in an intense, disturbing way.

“I managed to threaten the police commandant enough to find out that there is a renegade band of guerrillas in the area where we found those crates. Also, they have stolen some transportation trucks and used them to take their heisted supplies close to the border of Nicaragua.”

“And our missing medical supplies?” she asked, her voice betraying her panic.

“I’ve got Captain Jackson investigating it right now. I coaxed the police to check all the names of the men working for us during this effort. I have a hunch that at least one or two of them will be connected with the guerrilla force.”

She chewed on her lower lip. “I hope so.”

Matt smiled. “Don’t sound so worried, Babe. It will all come out in the wash.”

Shrugging in an almost painful gesture, Alanna murmured, “I want it to…for your sake, Matt. I really do.”

His eyes darkened. “Our sake,” he corrected gently.

Something blossomed within her injured heart. There was such a confidence and sureness about him and the belief he held in their future together.

“I know so little about you,” she whispered.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He smiled. “I was born in Kittery, Maine, and grew up there.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“One brother, John. He’s a lobster man at a place called York Harbor.”

Alanna smiled. “I would never have thought you a fisherman.”

He poured them both more coffee. “I’ve never outgrown the love of fishing. As a matter of fact, that cabin I told you about is a little ways inland of Kittery on the Piscataquis River. I usually take two weeks in the fall to go up there and fish my fill of black-backed flounder.” He looked up. “I still want you to join me after this tempest in a teapot is over with.”

Her green eyes crinkled with humor. “I’ve never picked up a fishing pole in my life, and I refuse to bait a hook with a poor, defenseless worm.”

“We don’t use worms to catch flounder. I’m afraid if I tell you what we do use, you’ll turn my invitation down.”

She grinned carelessly, thinking of what a joy it would be to share that time with him. No military or Hill politics to interfere. “Where is Kittery?”

“Just above Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I suppose you don’t travel too far from D.C.?” he asked, teasing.

Alanna gave him a scowl. “I may be a city girl, Colonel, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t traveled a little.”

“I see. That means within the state of Maryland and Virginia?”

“I’ve gotten as far as New York City and points west.”

“Well, that’s a start.”

“To you it probably seems like a drop in the bucket. Traveling all over the world like a cosmopolitan jet setter.”

Matt grinned. “Hardly in jet-setting style, believe me. More like the ride you took on that C-130 Hercules to get down here, packed between sweaty bodies and cargo crates for sixteen hours.”

She joined his laughter. “So much for the image, then,” she said.

Sipping her coffee, she studied him in the muted light surrounding them. Despite the outer garb and his military bearing, Matt’s face was devoid of its usual stoniness. Instead, his gray eyes were lively with a silver sparkle in their depths. He smiled readily and often, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepening, the harshness gone from his features. Across the table sat a man whom she felt herself responding to with effortless ease. The aura of sensitivity and gentleness around him left her breathless and wanting to explore more of this hidden side to him. When he talked of Maine his eyes lit up and his voice took on a wistful note.

“Did you mean it?” she asked suddenly.

Matt studied her. “About what?”

“Going fishing?”

“Of course. The best time is in mid-October, when the leaves are turning. There’s no place like it, Alanna. I think you’ll fall in love with Maine.”

She shivered inwardly at the huskiness in his voice. “I want to see it because it’s a part of you,” she explained.

“Ahh, explore the lion’s den.”

“Carefully,” she assured him, watching his eyes widen with silent laughter.

“I don’t bite.”

“Ohh, is that an understatement!”

“Only when I get my tail stepped on,” he amended. “Like that first time we met.”

Alanna tilted her head. “You had me so scared I was ready to fly back to D.C. under my own power.”

Matt reached out, recapturing her hand and holding it gently in his own. “Do you have any idea of how beautiful you are?” he asked softly. “For two days before you arrived we had fought the Costa Ricans on the proper way to set up the relief plan, and I was ready to rip anyone’s head off. And then, out of this C-130 comes the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I didn’t know what to do: whether to kiss you or turn you over my knee for bumping my radioman.”

Her heart was pounding furiously, and she felt heat rising into her face. She frowned, unable to meet his tender gaze. “Please…” she whispered tightly, “don’t, Matt, I—”

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “Why not? You deserve to be flattered.”

A lump grew in her throat until it squelched any words that she might have thought it. But under the circumstances, she couldn’t think coherently anyway. Living with Paul for four years had effectively numbed her sense of her own attractiveness.

Matt rose after he released her hand and moved around to her side, slipping his hand beneath her arm. “Come on, it’s time to turn in,” he urged gently.

As she walked silently at his side, Alanna tried to understand the varied emotions Matt Breckenridge had released in her. They halted at her room, and he captured her shoulders, turning her to face him. Lips parting, Alanna moved her gaze upward, meeting the silver flame smoldering within his hooded eyes.

“Lady, you’re very special to me,” he whispered huskily as his head descended.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she automatically closed her eyes, hungering for his nearness. His mouth brushed her lips in an earth-tilting caress. Alanna leaned forward, wanting, needing further contact with his mouth. A low groan came from him as he pulled her hard against his straining body, his mouth fitting perfectly against her awaiting lips. A soft cry echoed in her throat: one of pleasure, one of surrender to his masterful, guiding touch. He moved his hand down her spine, pinning her hips against him. Fire caught and exploded violently within her aching body, and she moaned, returning the heated kiss with unleashed intensity.

Gradually, ever so gradually, Alanna became aware of Matt gently pulling her away from him. Her eyes must have betrayed her disappointment because he slid his fingers through her hair in a caressing motion.

“You’d better get inside, or I won’t keep my promise to you,” he growled thickly. “Go on. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Alanna lay awake for a long time afterward. No matter how she tried to ignore the awakened desires of her hungry body, she could not sleep. Finally, she slipped into her blue robe and walked out to the patio, staring up at the stars overhead. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and the scent of citrus wafted on the air. She inhaled unsteadily, gripping the railing. Suddenly, her well-ordered life was crumbling before her very eyes. It was a continual agony to be with Matt. The hotness of tears scalded her eyes, and she shut them tightly, her fingers whitening against the wrought iron. She loved him. God, she loved him so much it hurt! And never in her life had she felt the anguish of awakening love like this.

Finally, she opened her eyes, the tears streaming down her cheeks making silvery paths in the moonlight. Was it love or just a strong sexual attraction between them? When had any man made her body feel as though it were a singing, throbbing instrument to be played? She released her grip on the railing, trying to stem the flood of tears without success. She wanted to trust Matt…her heart did. But her head was more cautious. If Matt were brought up on charges and she let it be known she loved him, Thornton would have her fired in an instant. Matt had never said he loved her. But she sensed that the trembling huskiness of his voice had betrayed his feelings when he’d told her she was special only hours ago….

It was his utter honesty that totally unstrung her. She was used to the games that the men around her played. Was Matt’s honesty a game in itself? No, her heart whispered. If it were, why hasn’t he gone against his word to keep the relationship neutral until the outcome of the investigation is known? Alanna knew he was restraining himself for her sake.

Matt could have taken her to bed tonight, and she would have gone willingly. She recalled with poignant sweetness the trembling of his hard, lean body against her own. It had been only his iron-willed control that had finally separated them. In his arms, she was clay to be molded to his desires. Turning, she stared in at the darkened bedroom, her lashes wet with tears. What heaven it would be if Matt were in there, waiting for her to return to his arms….