Hooper, Kay - [Hagen 09] (18 page)

The game went on. Hours passed.

Since it was dealer's choice and Kelly favored wild
cards, at least half the time the matches tended to finish with
high-ranking hands. And since they played draw poker rather than
straight stud poker, no cards were left faceup, so neither could
measure the possibilities of the other's hand.

One on one. Skill against skill.

Gradually, Inexorably, the pots began to increase, and
the bets became tens of thousands of dollars.

The clock on the mantel ticked away steadily.

* * *

"Jennifer."

She came out of a sound sleep, instantly awake and
sitting up, blinking at the light on her nightstand and then turning
her eyes to the window. "Dane!" She glanced at the clock on
the nightstand, puzzled. "It's almost dawn. What – "

"Will you get dressed and come with me?" His
voice was steady, like his eyes. "There's something I want you
to see."

"Of course, but – "

"I'll wait at the front door," he said softly,
and glided from the room like a shadow.

Bewildered, she hastily slid out of bed and dressed in
jeans and a pullover top, wondering what was going on. Why had Dane
come here like this, apparently slipping into the house through
a window? She felt uneasy, and something was nagging at her,
some elusive thing she couldn't grasp.

Dressed, she left her room and joined him by the front
door. He gave her no opportunity to ask questions, but simply
led the way out to his car. And she said nothing until they were a
heading down the road toward Belle Retour.

"So you finally got fed up?" she murmured. And
felt his swift glance.

"What do you mean?"

"The Ferrari is gone." Her hand absently
smoothed the vinyl of the seat between them. "No bucket seats in
this one."

He was silent.

"Dane, what's going on?"

"Just wait, all right?"

Jennifer said nothing else, her mind busy wtth
speculation. Had that last game gone wrong, was that it?
Something he wanted her to see. What? And why was he ... different?
He hadn't touched her at all, hadn't tried to reassure her in any
way. And that was very unlike Dane.

But she remained silent, not even commenting when, after
driving halfway down the dark lane to the house, he cut off the car's
headlights and almost coasted the remaining distance. She said
nothing when he stopped and got out, or when he came around to her
side and she left the car as well.

She just looked up at him and waited.

"Trust me?" he asked.

"Yes." But she didn't say.
Of course I
trust you – I love you.
She didn't say it. And she didn't
know why.

"Wait here."

Jennifer didn't see him leave as much as feel it,
abruptly conscious he was gone. She stood alone in the shifting
shadows, hearing the soft whine of the breeze through the tall oak
trees. Her mind was curiously blank, yet her body was tensed, uneasy
in some way she didn't really understand. She sensed that she was
braced for something, instinctively or intuitively certain there
was a shock in store for her. But she waited for him, there in the
dark.

When he returned to her side, a bare ten minutes later,
he made no more sound than he had when he'd left her. He was simply
there, a presence returned. He didn't tell her where he'd gone or
what had happened, but simply stood looking down at her for a moment.
She had the odd certainty that he could see her more clearly than she
saw him, as if she could feel his eyes, like a cat's, in the
darkness.

Quietly, he said, "I want you to listen to me
carefully. In a minute, I'm going to take you into the house because
there's something I want you to see. But you have to be absolutely
silent. If you make a sound, then you'll never have the revenge you
want against Kelly. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand."

Without another word, he took her hand and led her to
the front of the house. Jennifer thought about the security guard,
but something in his swift, certain movements told her there was no
need to worry about the other man. So she followed him through the
front door he opened and then closed silently behind them. She
followed him into the foyer, remaining near the walls where the old
floors would be less likely to betray them with a sound. The house
was silent, but as they neared one of the parlors she could hear the
murmur of male voices from inside.

The doors were standing partially open, and only a dim
light shone from within, from the far side of the room near the
windows. Where they stood was in darkness, but she moved
obediently to his guiding touch, slipping around him until she could
gaze into the parlor. And it didn't take his grip on her
shoulder to hold Jennifer silent. In her shock, she couldn't make a
sound.

Two men sat playing cards in a circle of light from a
low-hanging lamp. Between them on the round table was a pile of money
and a number of papers Jennifer couldn't see clearly from where she
stood. The men's faces were expressionless, yet somehow tense, deadly
serious. On Kelly's face, the lamplight caught the gleam of
perspiration, the throb of a pulse at his temple. She could almost
smell animal emotions, like the fear of some beast at bay, cornered
and desperate.

And that other face . . .

The guiding hand on her shoulder drew her silently back
away from the door, and she obeyed. Her body felt leaden with shock,
yet she followed him with no sound back across the foyer and down
another hallway, until at last he led her into the study, where it
had all begun, and shut the door behind them.

"They won't be able to hear us in here," he
said in a quiet but normal tone. Then he sent her a flickering smile
as he rested a hip on the corner of the desk. "Unless that
temper of yours explodes, that is."

Jennifer felt no anger. Not yet. Now, all she could feel
was shock, astonishment, confusion. She stared at him, noting the
watchful eyes that had seemed so different even in the brief
time she had seen them, set in a strikingly handsome face she knew as
well as her own.

"Twins," she whispered.

He nodded, still watchful. "I could hardly deny
that, could I? My name's Skye."

"Why didn't he tell me?" There was still
confusion in her voice, and hurt.

"He couldn't." His face, so like Dane's except
for the indefinable difference in the vivid eyes, was serious.
"Jennifer, for more than ten years, Dane and I have bet our
lives on the certainty that no one knew we were twins. No one knew
there were two of us. Dane's was the public role, the well-known face
and personality of an international gambler, a man who might be many
things, even a thief. Trusted by intelligence agents for his
information; trusted by criminals who were almost sure he was one of
them."

"And you?"

Skye smiled a little. "I was the one in the dark,
the one without a public name – unless I needed to borrow
Dane's."

"You switched places?"

"A game peculiar to twins." His smile faded,
and he was suddenly intent, grave. "But a very serious game in
our case, Jennifer. Because of what we are, we have the unique
ability to literally be in two places at the same time. All the
records were altered, our names changed; Dane Prescott doesn't
officially have a brother, much less a twin."

Jennifer was trying to think clearly. "I don't
understand. What
are
you? Both of you?"

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Put
simply, we're federal agents. But it's more complex than that. The
two of us took the concept of an agent and – divided it in
half. Dane is the cover. His identity is so deep and so completely
real that no one with any suspicions could ever prove he was an
agent. Because he isn't, not really. I am. I have the training, the
official credentials. I'm the one who carries a gun and a badge."

Jennifer could see, intellectually, how their
uniqueness could have been an advantage. But a disadvantage
as well. "Then each of you lives . . . half a life?"

Skye didn't take the question lightly, laugh it off.
Instead, he continued to gaze at her seriously. "We didn't
anticipate how it would really be for us in the beginning. That
Dane's friends would know me only as him, even though they were my
friends too. That Dane would, over the years, often hate the role
we'd created for him. It became a trap for us, Jennifer. We set
something in motion – and got caught in it."

"No going back?"

"We can't, not now. Oh, we could both just stop,
turn our backs and build normal lives. But if we did that, we'd be
saying that the past ten years were just a game. That we did it all
for nothing. And that can't happen, Jennifer. Because if it did, it
would destroy Dane."

She sat down slowly in a chair, staring at him.
Beginning to understand, now, one of the things Dane had said to
her. "Because of his integrity."

Skye nodded. "I thought you'd understand that."
He sighed roughly. "It went against the grain for him, leading
the life he has these past years. On the surface, such a meaningless
life. It's only his belief that we
are
doing good that's let
him make the sacrifices he has. He would never have become a
professional gambler if it hadn't been for me. Oh, he had the skills,
but he never thought of making that a life's profession until I
suggested it. Until I went to him after my own training with a plan.
I believed we could make a difference, and he believed it too."

"So he stepped into the light," she murmured.
"And you stepped into the dark." Even their clothes, she
realized, reflected each man. And that had been the first thing that
had almost unconsciously alerted her: Skye was dressed all in black,
a color she'd never seen Dane wear.

Skye smiled suddenly, a smile as reckless as the
brightness in his eyes. "That's the basic difference between
Dane and me," he told her. "We're both part cat – but
different parts. Dane likes the sun; I like hunting in the dark.
This life suits me, Jennifer. And as long as he can believe it has
meaning, Dane's life suits him too. You see, the irony is that while
Dane has the Instincts of a gambler, he has the heart of an
honorable man. It's always been a struggle for him to reconcile
the two."

"Then, when he met me ..."

Skye laughed softly, "Yes, indeed. When he met you.
Your own father was a gambler, and you were hardly likely to want to
get involved with another one. But what could Dane tell you? That he
wasn't a gambler? He is. In many ways, it isn't just a role anymore.
After ten years as a professional, it can't be." He hesitated,
then said seriously, "We've both protected that identity with
half-truths and white lies for a decade. And he couldn't even tell
you, because we made a promise to each other that we wouldn't, not
while we were Involved in a Job. A promise both our lives have
too often depended on. And Dane has never in his life broken a
promise to anyone. It's been tearing him apart, Jennifer, not
being able to explain to you."

Jennifer. And
Dane called her Jenny. Another clue
she had unconsciously been aware of. She was silent for a moment,
gazing at nothing. "Why have you told me this?" she said
finally in a low voice. "Why not Dane?"

"He doesn't know I'm telling you now. He would have
told you tomorrow when it's all over and Kelly's in custody. But he
wouldn't have told you what's going on In that room right now, and I
think you should know."

Jennifer stared at him. "I don't understand."
But she thought that perhaps she did.

"You talked to Dane about honor, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Skye nodded. "It shook him up, you know. You were
asking the questions he's been asking himself these last years, and
he wasn't sure of the answers. But I am." He paused, then spoke
slowly. "I don't know about all twins, but with Dane and me . .
. well, each of us has always understood the other more than himself.
It's like looking into a mirror, except that what you see isn't a
reflection of yourself, but another being entirely. And maybe because
the surface is identical, we always see beneath."

Jennifer nodded slowly. "It's hard for me to really
understand, but I think I know what you mean."

"Good. Then believe me when I say that I know Dane
better than he knows himself. He's a good man, Jennifer, a
better man than I am. He's honorable in ways most men have forgotten
even exist. He hates lies, half-truths, deceptions. By nature, he's
very open, and very honest. And he never breaks a promise."

She nodded again, accepting it immediately. "That's
what I thought, what I felt in him."

"He's keeping a promise right now," Skye said
softly. "A promise to you."

Jennifer felt a sudden tightness in her throat. A
promise to her . . . "Belle Retour?"

"Yes. Dane's doing his best to win it back for you.
And because he's doing it for you, the stakes are very personal this
time. He's never done this before, played for personal stakes. That
was always the distinction he made between playing a role, and
becoming
the role. It was always business, never personal.
This time, he's crossing that line."

She stared at Skye, emotions tangling inside her. "He
wouldn't have told me?"

Skye shook his head. "No. If he wins, he'll find a
way to transfer the deed back to you and your mother, tell you that
officials found a legal loophole or something. If he loses, he'll
pull every string he can find, call in every favor owed, until
somebody invents a loophole that does the trick. But he won't take
the credit for it. Now or ever."

"But why wouldn't he – " And then she
stopped, realizing.

"You see it, don't you? Dane won't ever tell you it
was his doing because he loves you. He wants you to be happy, and it
doesn't matter what he might lose himself. He'd never use that
promise of his as a way to bind you to him. You'll have your home
back, but you won't owe Dane anything for it." Skye smiled a bit
wryly. "He hates debts."