Part 13 (2/2)

In the deepest part of his soul, he knew it wasn't her fault Jeanne and J.J. were dead. Yet it was easy to blame her. It saved him from blaming himself.

”What did I say?” he asked.

She took a step closer. There were a couple of night lights in the hallway. They allowed him to see her shape. She wore an oversize T-s.h.i.+rt that hung to midthigh. He wondered if she wore anything underneath.

”You called out a few things I couldn't understand. And a woman's name.” She hesitated.

”Jeanne,” he said, then pulled the pillows up behind him and leaned once more against the headboard.

”Yes, that was it.” Andie folded her arms over her chest. ”Is she-Was she your wife?”

He couldn't remember her face when he was awake, but he called out her name when he was asleep. ”Yes.”

”I'm sorry.”

”It's not your fault.”

She sighed. ”You said that before, but I'm still ... I feel responsible somehow. As if I should have been able to prevent it or have known it happened.” She waved one hand in the air. ”Sorryis such an inadequate word. There should be a different one for greater tragedies.”

He understood that. He remembered after the explosion, when he'd finally gone home to the States. His family and Jeanne's had wanted to talk about what had happened. They'd wanted to hear the details. He'd refused to talk with them about it. He couldn't bear to remember. They'd all been sorry. He remembered thinking he would be happy never to hear that d.a.m.n word again.

”It's not you,” he said, then wondered why he bothered lying. Some of itwas her. Or maybe it was just him. The guilt wasn't her fault. He was the weak one. He was the one who was having trouble holding on to the past. ”It's this place and the situation.”

He could lash out and say something ugly, but he didn't care enough to continue hurting her. Or maybe he cared too much. Maybe her courage and intelligence deserved more. If he believed her, and he had a bad feeling he did, her only crime was that of being young and foolish. She'd married the wrong man. Not for his money or power, but out of ignorance. She'd paid a big price for that already. Maybe he should let it go.

Even if she wasn't perfect, she was hardly in Kray's league. After all, she thought he, Jeff, was here as part of a team to take her ex-husband in. That he was part of a n.o.ble, well-thought-out act. Killing someone was never n.o.ble. It was ugly and difficult.

He had no right to judge her, not without first looking at his own situation. If she knew the truth about him, she would take off running in the opposite direction.

He leaned over and flipped on the small lamp on the nightstand. He squinted against the light. Andie stood just inside the door. She still had her arms folded over her chest. With her short T-s.h.i.+rt exposing her long legs, and her loose hair spilling over her shoulders, she looked like someone posing for a men's magazine. All soft curves and temptation. Her full mouth was straight, her eyes wide,her expression wary. If she smiled, if she tilted her head and whispered an invitation, there wasn't a man alive who could resist her.

”Go to bed,” he ordered.

”I can't sleep.”

”Well, I'm tired.”

She shook her head slowly. Blond hair drifted back and forth in lazy counterpoint. ”You're afraid the nightmare will come back if you go to sleep now.” She s.h.i.+fted slightly,then dropped her arms to her sides. ”Will it go well tonight?”

The mission. He'd almost forgotten. In less than twenty-four hours she would be on her way to Florida. Then he could get on with what he'd come for. With a little luck, Kray would be dead soon.

”My man is trustworthy, if that's what you're asking.”

”I wasn't worried about that. I just wondered if there was anything that could go wrong.”

There were a thousand things, but he knew she didn't want to hear about them. ”You and Bobby will be fine.”

She gave him a half smile. As if she weren't quite sure she believed him, but she appreciated the effort on her behalf.

”When we're gone, will you kill Kray?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows.

”I know you're going to. I mean, not just because of what you said before, but because of the rifle I saw. I understand that waiting for him to make a mistake is taking too long. He's very smart and he's very lucky.” She twisted her hands together, lacing and unlacing her fingers. ”He's a bad man. That's sounds simplistic, but it's true.”

”And that justifies killing?”

She stared at him. ”No, it doesn't. But I don't think there's another solution. He's a murderer. Not just what I saw, but others we'll never know about, and your family...” Her voice trailed off.

She looked around the room. There was a single straight-back chair in the corner. She walked over to it and perched on the edge. ”I don't know what's right anymore. When he came into my condo to steal Bobby, if I'd had a way to hurt him, I would have done it. I'd do anything to protect my child. But shooting someone deliberately is different. Not necessarily wrong, just hard to understand.” She shook her head. ”I'm not making any sense.”

Jeff leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. ”You'd be amazed how much sense you're making.”

”How do you do this for a living?”

He smiled slightly. ”I'm not a paid a.s.sa.s.sin, if that's what you mean.”

”Good.”

He opened his eyes and glanced at her. She sat straight in the chair, with both feet on the ground. Prim and proper. If he hadn't been sure she wore almost nothing under her nights.h.i.+rt, it wouldn't have been provocative at all. Or it shouldn't have been. He had a bad feeling everything Andie did would turn him on. He s.h.i.+fted on the bed and was grateful the white sheet bunched around his waist hid his arousal from her.

”Sometimes the lines are gray,” he admitted. ”I don't always know what the right thing is, but that's my goal. To stay on this side of the line.”

Except for this mission, he admitted. This time he'd crossed the line. There was no going back.

”Do you spend a lot of time out-” She waved her hand around them. ”What's the technical term? In the field?”

”Most of the time I'm stuck behind a desk in Was.h.i.+ngton.”

”Really? So you're not Rambo Two?”

”No.” He smiled. ”I'm just an ordinary man trying to take care of business.”

”Only, Bobby and I got in the way,” she said softly. ”No wonder you were so angry at us that first day and angry at me ever since. I don't blame you.”

Big eyes met his own. Sorrow and compa.s.sion darkened her irises to the color of a stormy sky. She was beautiful. Not a flashy look-at-me kind of woman, but someone who would always have cla.s.sic features. In time her face would change. The skin would drawtighter, wrinkles would deepen around her eyes. Yet she would age with elegance. He could imagine her in forty years. That should have scared the h.e.l.l out of him.

He didn't want to like her. He wanted everything to be her fault. ”Andie, I-”

”No, really,” she interrupted. ”It makes sense. Besides, I trust your temper.”

”You're crazy.”

”No, I'm not. The fact that you haven't wanted me around is sort of comforting. If you'd been nice to me from the beginning I would have wondered what you wanted from me. By making me stand up to you, you've forced me to keep being strong. I'm scared of the future but I think I have a chance at keeping Bobby safe.”

”I hope so,” he said, and meant it. He wanted her and the kid to get away.

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