Deliberate Deceptions: Hauberk Protection, Book 3 (9 page)

So she wanted to play it that way, did she? Game on.

They ran half the trail dodging and evading each other’s attacks. At some point, he couldn’t figure out when, his anger morphed to arousal. He found himself admiring that she’d run more than twice as far as he had yet showed no signs of tiring; he also found himself admiring the swing of her hips as she ran in front of him, the bounce of her breasts when they wrestled. Until they reached the steep hill and she stumbled over a protruding root as he’d predicted would happen. Launching himself at her, Chad trapped her by using his full weight on top of her.

She fought him for a moment, attempting to buck him off, then relaxed. Chuckling, she reached up and skimmed a finger down his jaw. “You still get turned on by the chase, don’t you?”

Considering the erection jabbing into her belly he could hardly deny it.

“Never could understand guys who liked submissive women.” He ground his cock against her mound then, with a sigh, sat back on his heels but stayed straddling her. “You realize my guys are probably watching on the monitors.”

“They even have cameras out here?”

He tipped his head toward the gazebo further down the path. “There are a couple mounted down there. They’re motion activated and we’re within range.”

“Shit.” She shoved him off and scrambled to her feet. “What did you want that you had to chase me for this far?”

He opened his mouth to say “I’m leaving” but the words wouldn’t come. The sensual side she’d shown him yesterday, the
I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you
hunger in her eyes had returned.

“Yesterday you said we needed to talk. I told you we’d talk this morning.” Talk? He wanted to bend her over the trunk of that fallen tree and fuck her from behind. He took a deep breath and centered himself. “I told you not to leave your room without me, or are you incapable of following orders?”

She straightened, holding her chin high. “I brought my gun and one of your guards. It was only a matter of time before I returned.” Her eyes narrowed. “Besides, Hauberk guaranteed this as a safe house and their employees as well-trained professionals. Are you telling me this place isn’t secure?”

“We can’t—oh, for Christ’s sakes, just come with me.” Chad stalked down the path toward the pond, wondering if she would indeed follow him. He made it almost to the gazebo before he chanced a glance back and realize she still stood there, her shoulders slumped. “Don’t play any more games with me, Lauren.”

“I wasn’t playing a—” Her voice fractured and she cleared her throat. If it were anyone else, he’d think she was fighting tears, but her eyes were dry.

“You were sleeping when I checked on you this morning,” she continued, her voice firm once again. “I know you were up late last night so I didn’t want to disturb you.” When he didn’t say anything, she explained, “I saw the light under your door, that’s how I know you were up until at least four this morning.”

Which meant she’d been awake too. Plotting a sob story? No, that wasn’t Lauren’s style. There were circles beneath her eyes he realized as he took a closer look, lending her an air of fragility that belied her defiance. He reminded himself all wasn’t what it appeared. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

She opened her mouth as if to snap something in return but instead she simply sighed. “Fine.”

Fine
. Now there was a landmine of a word.

His hand firm on her elbow, he followed her up the wooden steps leading to the gazebo overlooking the pond and the rest of the valley. He steered her to the canopied sofa where she sank onto the cushions with a soul deep sigh.

She’d run hard, worked up a sweat so her T-shirt clung to her curves, making him acutely aware of the hard nipples jutting from the fabric. Except for the Sig Sauer in its holster, she was the ultimate picture of femininity and composure, her feet neatly crossed at the ankles, her hands clasped on her lap.
Concentrate on the mission, damn it.

Instead of folding his arms the way he wanted to, he let them hang loose and leaned against the center post in an attempt to appear relaxed. “I want to talk about why you’re here.”

“Okay.”

“You work for a private investigation firm called Light Brigade Investigations, Inc.”

Her gaze met his for just a second before it flitted away to focus on something on the other side of the pond. “Yes.”

“They sent you to South Africa to determine if a mole in Edward Weir’s mining company was selling corporate secrets.”

“Yes.” If he hadn’t been watching her carefully, he may not have noticed her fingernails dig into the skin of her knuckles. Or the almost imperceptible tightening of her shoulders.

She’d just lied. Why?

“And you uncovered someone who led you to a man named Frank Harris.”

“Yes.”

Chad swore under his breath. “If you keep giving me one word answers, we’ll be here all frickin’ day. Don’t you want us to catch whoever it is who has forced you to hide?”
Tell me why you’re really here.

He continued questioning until he’d verified her story corroborated with Weir’s. Which of course it did, damn it. The silence between them hung heavy, as if someone had hung a blanket between them. It wasn’t that he didn’t have questions for her. The big one, the
Why are you lying?
one got shoved aside by the others crowding his mind.
Where have you been? Why didn’t you call me, tell me where you were going when you moved from London? Or Paris?

A damned email might have been nice. A text message. Something. Anything to let me know you were all right.

Did you know I still dream about you? About us?
He heaved in a breath and found himself staring at a spot across the lake, absently wondering if they were staring at the same tree. Damn it, this was the reason why ex-husbands should never be assigned to guard their ex-wives.

Focus on your mission. Which was…what? Was she in danger? Or was this some sort of setup to discredit Hauberk?

He lost track of the time they’d been there when she suddenly spoke, startling him. “I suppose you guessed I haven’t been living in London for a while now.”

“Yes.” Any of his attempts to contact her had gone unanswered so he’d used his Hauberk resources to track her. “You ran the security for a fancy spa, Tranquil Pastures or something, for six months in Kent, then quit and moved to Brussels. Six months after that you moved to Paris where you were hired to guard the wife and children of a Saudi Arabian family.”

Her gaze darted back to him before returning to the pond. “You’ve got good sources.”

Not good enough. From there, she’d dropped from his radar. “And now you work out of your company’s offices in Rome.”

“Yes.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to the stop of the stairs, blocking the exit. “Did you know there’s no record of an Edward Weir owning any mine, diamond, gold or otherwise, in South Africa? Or anywhere in Africa, Australia, Canada or the States?”

“He’s not the only owner, so the mine isn’t in his name. It’s registered to a numbered off-shore corporation.” She finally looked at him, her mask of composure firmly in place.

“Did you also know that there’s no record of him coming into the country in the past six months? Oh, there were several Edward Weirs but none fitting your boss’s description.”

Once again that spot across the pond got her undivided attention. “Maybe you aren’t looking in the right places.”

Why was every nerve ending twitching? Oh, yeah, because she was
lying
.

“I’ve spoken with Sam, Lauren. Yesterday morning he got a call from someone at the Post telling him about a spread they’d be running about me, about…back then. Sort of a ‘where are they now and how did they change American history’ type story. Ten minutes later Weir phoned Sam. Told him he’d be coming into the office, laid out what he needed. Not once did he mention you by name. But he knew we’d been married, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” He could hardly hear her whisper above the wind in the trees.

“They went through the various operatives Sam thought could run the operation and Weir found fault with every single operative. Except me.”

“Because you are the best. Because you’re the only one I trust.”

He dismissed that as flattery. Or prevarication. She hadn’t trusted him all those years before. “You know it’s never SOP to assign an ex-spouse as a bodyguard. There’s too much baggage attached.” The truckloads they had between them could fill Chesapeake Bay. “So, what’s the story? Is there someone after you? Or is this some elaborate scheme to discredit Hauberk?”

“There really is a threat.” This time she looked at him, her hands were still together in her lap, but her fingernails no longer scored the skin. Her expression was composed if rather sad, not tense. Her shoulders slumped, and a hint of vulnerability pierced her armor. “LBI caters to very rich clients who need discreet investigations—blackmail, that type of thing. I’d investigated this scumbag who was blackmailing a certain high profile movie star. Part of the fallout of it was the scumbag’s wife divorced him. I had taken some incriminating pictures of him as part of my investigation and so I was called to testify against him at his wife’s petition for full custody. Which she got based mainly on my testimony. Next thing we knew he’d hired Harris.”

When he’d first met her, she’d been quick with a retort, her eyes sparkling, her mouth pulling up at the ends in the most provocative grin he’d ever seen. They’d laughed at lot in those early years. Before. Even in their more serious moments, they were in tune—finishing each other’s sentences, knowing when the other needed a touch, gentle or not, to ground them. For a while there, things had been so good between them he’d have taken a bet that their marriage could have survived anything.

What he’d give to see her smile. Just once. The way she had…before. The memory of finding her on her knees, sobbing, clutching Emily’s lifeless body. Of the tears streaming down her face at the funeral. Tears that dried up and never reappeared. She’d held herself in ruthless control after that. She’d closed herself off from him and everyone.

He shook his head and forced himself to focus on his objective. Damn it, why the hell was he still so attracted to her?
Concentrate on the mission. Stop letting her distract you.
This was the very reason he shouldn’t have been put in charge of the op. “So, who’s Weir?”

“Ed’s my partner. Or, he was my partner. I’ve told my boss that once this is settled, I’m quitting.”

“Why come to Hauberk? Couldn’t your own people protect you?”

“LBI’s a small company. We don’t have the type of safe houses Hauberk does, or the manpower to protect me. Harris is…dangerous.”

“So you manipulated Sam and me until I was assigned as your lead op.”

She nodded.

“So there’s no story in the Post this weekend? You had someone call it in to convince Sam to assign me to your case?”

“No, there really a story. Ed’s sister works for the Post so we knew they were working on it.”

Shit. He grabbed the pine railing and stared over the lake. “Why me, Lauren? Why seek me out after all these years?”

“Because you’re not the type of man to walk away from an assignment. Because I trust you.”

From the location of her voice, she’d moved. Was coming closer.

His shoulders stiffened as if he were expecting her to plunge yet another metaphorical knife between them. “You didn’t trust me when we were married. Why in hell would you trust me now?”

The footsteps stopped. “I trusted you! I’ve always trusted you.”

He snorted. “You trusted me not to follow you to England.”

She’d been right. He’d let her walk away. Until yesterday he’d questioned that decision every day. Now, with her here, he wasn’t sure that perhaps it hadn’t been the best decision he’d ever made. The ability to live with the hole she’d left had been torn from him and when this was over, he’d have to rebuild everything all over again.

“I didn’t leave you because I didn’t trust you. I left because I trusted the wrong person’s advice. I made a bad decision, Chad. Haven’t you ever made a decision you regretted later?”

Instead of feeling the satisfaction, the relief he’d expected, anger surged inside him, a low burn that boiled over. “It’s taken you nearly ten years—ten fucking years—to find me to tell me that? You threw everything we had together away, Lauren. I gave you my word that I would be there for you. I stood up in front of a judge and promised to love, honor and cherish you, no matter what. So did you.”

“I know. I should have stayed.” Her quiet answer slipped into his brain, into his heart, a soothing balm tipped with barbs. “I was mixed up; I wasn’t thinking clearly. By the time I realized it, I thought you’d moved on.”

“I loved you, Lauren.” Part of him still did no matter how much he tried to deny it. “I would have done anything to make our marriage work.”

She slipped past him and leaned against the door post, her arms wrapped around her waist the only clue that she wasn’t as composed as she tried to appear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about not trusting you, about not talking to you—not telling you what was going on in my head.”

Did her apology help ease the hurt? He did a mental check. Nope. That goddamned ache in his chest still hurt like a sonovabitch.

He forced himself to look at her without allowing her to see how much her apology hurt. He’d be damned if he’d give her that power over him. “I’m going back to D.C. Troy can—”

“Please. Don’t leave.” She moved closer, her breasts brushing his shirt, her hips touching his. She hadn’t put on any perfume but there was still a hint of something fruity wafting from her, probably her shampoo.

His cock punched a tent in the front of his sweats. Fuck.

“Don’t leave. Not with this still between us,” she whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Once I realized what a mess I’d made of things, I’d been told you were already with someone else and I figured it was better to let you go.”

God, he wanted to touch her. To hold her. To have her rest her head against his shoulder the way she had the night before. While his brain was saying “damned straight I didn’t understand,” his cock was saying “lie down on the couch, babe, and let me taste you again.” At the moment, it was a dead heat as to which body part would win the argument. Then his guts weighed in. When this was over—whatever
it
was—would he find himself alone? Because there was no way he could go through losing her again.