Targets of Opportunity (1993) (12 page)

Brad envisioned her lying nude on a bearskin rug in front of a crackling fireplace. "No, not at all . . . I'll get a fresh one out of the closet."

"You're a darling."

Smiling to himself, Brad walked to the linen cabinet. "Holy shit, what a body," he said to himself as he grabbed a large beach towel. He went out to the balcony and handed the thick towel to Allison.

"Thank you," she said, unfolding the navy-blue towel in front of her. She paused to look at the unique design. Brad cringed when he noticed the gold naval aviator wings adorning the center of Palmer's towel. His mind raced while he waited for the inevitable question.

Allison smoothly slid the beach towel under her breasts. She turned her head, searching his eyes. "Brad, you are a pilot, aren't you? A navy pilot.

Austin hesitated, tired of the ruse. "Well, I've been told to pile it here and pile it there," he answered lamely. "I've always been interested in aviation, so I collect flying paraphernalia."

She eyed Brad suspiciously and gave him a seductive smile. "Brad, I don't think you're telling me the truth. All three of you guys have an air about you. "

Brad laughed and shook his head. "Hey, we're just normal people . . . who work for a paycheck."

She stared at him with a skeptical look.

"Allison," Brad said uncomfortably, "I work for the government, and that's it."

"I'm sure that you do," she smiled politely, "but what you do is
. H
ushhush, isn't it?"

A grin spread across his face. "I think you've been watching too many movies."

"Right." She winked knowingly. "Would you mind putting some oil on my back?"

"I'd be happy to," he replied, relieved that she was apparently dropping the subject.

"I put it on the cabinet," Allison said, placing her hands under her chin, "next to the oven."

Taking a swig of his beer, Brad went to the kitchen and opened the Coppertone oil that Allison had purchased at the supermarket. He second-guessed the decision to go through with the cookout when he walked out on the balcony. After today, Brad reasoned, they would have to sever their ties to Allison van Ingen.

"Let me warm this," Brad offered, dropping to his knees, "before I spread it on your back."

"How thoughtful," she responded in a subdued voice.

Brad rubbed the Coppertone between his palms until it was body temperature, then applied the oil in long, smooth strokes. It would be easy to fall for Allison.

"Would you like some oil on your legs?"

"If you don't mind," she purred, totally relaxed by Brad's soothing hands. "That feels wonderful."

"Good."

When he had finished coating her legs, Brad started to rise.

"Have you got a couple of minutes," she softly asked, "to talk with me?"

Brad swallowed hard. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

Allison startled Brad when she abruptly turned over to face him. She held the beach towel over her breasts with one hand while she grasped Brad's arm with the other. "I was wondering if we could pack a picnic basket and--"

The doorbell rang, interrupting her in midsentence.

"It's open!" Brad shouted, thinking that it might be Lex at the door. Brad remembered that he had left the main door open, but he was unsure if he had locked the screen door.

"What were you going to say?" Brad asked, mesmerized by the beautiful, half-naked body.

"We'll discuss it later," Allison murmured as she turned on her stomach, "when we're alone."

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, Brad turned to see Leigh Ann staring at him with burning anger. Her luggage was next to the refrigerator.

"L-Leigh Ann," Brad stammered as he rose from his knees, "I thought-- This is really a surprise. You're here a day early."

Leigh Ann's elegant, perfectly sculptured face reflected shock and humiliation.

Allison calmly looked over her shoulder. Leigh Ann's sudden appearance was the last thing Allison had expected, but she maintained her composure and reached for her halter top.

"Yes," the petite brunette said in a scathing tone. "Apparently, it's a surprise for everyone."

Brad's eyes captured Leigh Ann's silky brown hair and clear blu
e e
yes, but her normally radiant smile had been replaced by a glare. "Leigh Ann,- Brad tried again, "this is not what you think .. .

honestly. "

"That's what they all say," Allison said lightly, "but this time you can believe him. I date his roommate, who should be returning any minute. My name is Allison van Ingen." She was cool and composed.

Brad was completely awed. Allison had saved him, rather than let him become shark bait.

Leigh Ann looked at Brad before she introduced herself to Allison. She was not sure the truth was being told. Her intuition told her not to trust Allison, and her confidence in Brad was shaken.

Leigh Ann turned to Brad. "Can I have a word with you . . ." she darted a cold glance at Allison, "alone?" She turned and walked into the kitchen before he could answer.

Brad followed, shaking his head in amazement. How could this have happened to me?

"I was so happy," Leigh Ann seethed, keeping her voice low, "about coming here a day early . . . to be with you." She paused to calm herself. "Then I walk in to find you rubbing suntan lotion on a woman who is wearing nothing but shorts that are a size too small."

"Leigh Ann, calm down and let--"

"I want to know what is going on," she demanded, "and I wouldn't believe that topless blonde for a minute."

"Leigh Ann," Brad gently coaxed while he wiped his hands on a, kitchen towel, "let's take a drive. I need to explain a few things to you. "You bet you do," she replied in an icy voice.

"Listen," Brad said, taking Leigh Ann by the shoulders. "There i
s n
othing between Allison and me, or even between Allison and ,Nick. We're involv--"

"Nick Palmer?"

"Yes," he answered with a smile. "We're working on a special project, and I can't tell even you about it. Not until it's over."

She didn't look convinced.

"Right now," Brad continued uneasily, "we're just taking some time off to relax."

Leigh Ann nodded. "Yes, I can see that you're relaxing."

"Nick and I share this apartment," he explained, "and Allison simply asked if I would spread some oil on her back."

"Maybe so," Leigh Ann conceded, realizing that Brad was telling the truth, "but you can surely understand how it looked to me .. . when I walked in."

Brad gave her a convincing look. "I know, and I apologize, but there was nothing to it."

"I believe you." Leigh Ann smiled and placed her arms around his neck. "Why don't you take me to my hotel. It's been a long day." "Excellent idea." Brad grinned suggestively.

Chapter
ELEVEN

Leigh Ann was overwhelmed when she saw the Hotel del Coronado. The monarch of Pacific Coast resort hotels was a magnificent example of elegant Victorian architecture.

After checking in and depositing their belongings in the oceanfront room, Brad and Leigh Ann went for a tour of the grand hotel. They explored the lush grounds before returning to browse through the quaint shops.

Passing the Ocean. Terrace, they decided to stop for a cocktail and unwind. Brad selected a table overlooking the ocean, and they ordered drinks.

When the waitress had left, Brad raised his glass, prompting Leigh Ann to do likewise. He clinked his glass against hers, then looked into her eyes. "To our weekend together."

"To us," she smiled gleefully, and tasted her cocktail.

Leigh Ann settled comfortably in her chair. "Can you tell me something about why you're in San Diego?"

Brad leaned closer to Leigh Ann. He hesitated a moment before answering.

"Nick and I have been asked, along with two other pilots, to evaluate a classified airplane.
"

A look of concern formed on Leigh Ann's face. "Is this secret airplane you're flying considered dangerous?"

"Honey," Brad teased, resorting to the black humor of all fighter pilots, "anytime you strap into something with an ejection seat
,
there is a certain amount of risk involved. That's the nature of my business."

They fell silent for a moment. Brad noticed that Leigh Ann nervously fingered her cocktail napkin.

"Leigh Ann, if I could tell you anything else, I would."

"I know." She knew Brad well enough to know that he thrived on excitement. How strange, she thought, that the same self-assurance and zest for life that made her fall in love with Brad, also made him pursue one of the most dangerous professions in the world.

They talked and laughed until the sun was barely suspended above the tranquil ocean.

Brad glanced at his watch. "I've got to give Nick a call. Excuse me," he apologized as he rose. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Leigh Ann smiled with happiness, "but hurry."

Fortified by a second scotch and soda, Leigh Ann sat quietly and watched the golden sphere shimmer as it settled over the horizon. Her mind drifted back to the blonde at Brad's apartment. Although Leigh Ann had been initially outraged, she could now smile about the incident.

She turned to Brad when he returned and sat down. "Brad," she said sweetly, "tell me about Allison what's-her-name."

Unprepared for such a direct question, Brad stifled a nervous laugh and sat down.

"Actually," he began slowly, "Nick and I met her when we first got here. She had just arrived in San Diego to oversee the refurbishing of a yacht her father bought."

"Was that her Mercedes?" Leigh Ann asked dryly.

"Yes," Brad answered, wishing she would drop the subject. "Where was Nick when I was at the apartment?"

Brad squirmed in his chair. "Nick and Lex Blackwell--one of the other pilots--had gone to find a barbecue grill and get some meat for a cookout this evening."

"So," Leigh Ann sipped her drink, "Miss Short-shorts slipped over to have tea with you, while the other guys were gone?"

Brad burst out laughing. "Jealousy doesn't become you."

She frowned. "I don't think it's funny. . . ."

"Leigh Ann, she drove me to the supermarket. That's all there is to it. End of story."

"She went into the supermarket wearing that outfit?"

"Yes," Brad replied, suppressing a laugh. "In that outfit."

"Unbelievable," she muttered, then looked Brad straight in the eyes. "Let me understand this. Allison--what did you say her last name is?"

"Van Ingen, with a small v. She's from a Main Line family in Philadelphia."

Leigh Ann considered all the information carefully. "This woman--who appears to be about thirty, has a new Mercedes convertible, is overseeing her father's yacht, and looks like a Playboy centerfold--is hanging out with three military pilots in an apartment." She paused, staring at Brad. "Does that seem a little strange to you?"

"Probably," Brad shrugged uncomfortably, "but the friendship has been platonic. "

"So far," she replied with a taunting look.

Tilting her head, Leigh Ann gave Brad a smile. "Have you seen her father's yacht?"

"Come on, lighten up."

Leigh Ann was determined. "What's the name of the yacht?" He gave her a sidelong glance. -Bellwether"

She remained silent, fixing him with a cold stare while she made a mental note of the name of the yacht.

"Yes," he laughed, "I've been on the yacht. She invited the three of us to a cocktail buffet. She had a lot of other people there, of all age groups."

"So," Leigh Ann gave him a knowing look, "you reciprocated and invited Allison over for a party the night before I was scheduled to arrive."

"Correction," Brad declared. "Nick invited her."

Leigh Ann leaned back and studied Brad. "We're missing it--the party, or cookout, as you refer to it."

Brad inhaled, then slowly let the air out while he signaled the cocktail waitress for another scotch. "We aren't going to attend . . . for reasons other than you probably suspect."

It was Leigh Ann's turn to laugh. "I can't wait," she crossed her arms, "to hear this."

"I'll tell you as soon as the waitress leaves." Brad smiled broadly, wondering how he could explain the delicate situation to her. This should be interesting.

Leigh Ann never took her eyes off him.

Brad accepted his drink with a smile, then turned serious. "Alliso
n k
nows that the three of us work for the government, but she doesn't know what we do.
"

"She's getting curious," Leigh Ann finished the disclosure, "and you think that I might inadvertently say something."

"Leigh Ann," Brad began patiently, "my situation is complicated, and I'm not supposed to say anything to anyone . . . including you."

She gave him a suspicious look. "Why can't you tell her the truth? You're military pilots who are evaluating an airplane. You don't have to tell her the plane is secret."