In the Arms of Danger

NINE

Taylor brought the glasses to the table and handed him one. As he sipped the cool drink, she sat across from him, still not meeting his eyes. Her elbows rested on the table in front of her, and she used her hand to cup her chin as if she tried to hold her head up. More than likely she'd be weary, but his questions couldn't wait another day.

He swallowed and licked his lips. "Well..."

Her gaze lifted to his, her expression unreadable. If it weren't for the slight shake to her hands, he'd think she was immune to him.

"Well," she repeated.

"I'm assuming you tried to ditch me back there on the freeway. Right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, I didn't try hard enough."

"May I ask why you wanted to?"

"No."

He shrugged. "That's okay, Taylor. I know why." When she met his gaze, he continued. "It's quite a coincidence running into each other like this, huh?"

She looked back at her drink as she lifted it to her mouth. After taking a sip, she placed her glass on the table and linked her fingers. "Yes it is. A very strange coincidence. Especially when you were supposed to be dead."

Ah-ha! The truth comes out. Her tone of voice had told him she had wanted him dead. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you were shot. You fell over the cliff and into the raging water."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "So, you saw me fall?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you stay to watch as people dragged me out of the water and carted me off to the hospital?"

Her attention dropped to her drink. A nerve in her cheek jumped. "I was scared. I'd never seen...I didn't know what to do."

"So you packed your bags and jumped on the next flight out of there without a word to anyone. Not even our hotel clerk knew where you'd gone."

Her gaze bounced up, her eyes narrowing. "You don't understand." She pushed away from the table, marched to the window and adjusted the blinds to stare into the yard.

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Then explain it to me. Because I remember waking up three days later in the hospital, and the woman who I thought loved me, had suddenly disappeared. At first, I thought the person who'd shot me had killed you, but the more I checked into your disappearance, the more I discovered what had really happened."

She glanced over her shoulder. Her lips pulled straight, anger lines creasing her forehead. "We were strangers back then, Cory. You weren't the man I thought, just as I wasn't the woman you'd expected."

"Obviously." He shook his head. "I thought we had something special. Why couldn't you have been as honest? You even used a fake last name on our marriage certificate. Do you realize how much trouble you could have gotten into by doing that?"

She huffed and spun around, facing him. Her sun-streaked long hair swung over her shoulder. She planted her hands on her hips, the blue in her eyes cold as death.

"The reason I withheld the truth was because my friends and I were only there for a week of fun, doing whatever it took to enjoy ourselves. We were there to find some men and have a wild and exciting time with no strings. When women set out on that kind of path, they're usually not honest."

"That's why you lied," he muttered.

His chest tightened, pain suffocating him just as it had those many years ago when he'd found out about her deceit.

For almost four weeks, she'd been closer to him than his own shadow. They'd shared everything. They discussed their lives, their hopes, their dreams...their love.

He'd thought.

Cory had been vulnerable, and she'd taken advantage of him. The only reason he'd gone to Bermuda was for some peace and relaxation. An uncomplicated vacation, until the last week he was there. That's when his supervisor informed him about the undercover operation one of the other agents was there doing. Things were out of control, and they needed Cory's help.

He hadn't wanted to tell Taylor about that part of his life. Hadn't wanted to think his vacation in paradise would end. Eventually, he would have told her the truth, once everyone was out of harm's way.

Being an FBI agent had exhausted him, and after his third near-death experience, he hadn't wanted to remember that part of his life. When he'd met Taylor, she'd made him forget those things. She'd made him want to live... made him want to dream again.

To believe in love.

He didn't know what had happened to make her turn on him. Perhaps she'd been the devil's advocate all along. Maybe she'd been sent to lull him into that dream world so he would lower his defenses. Somehow she'd been involved with the other agent's undercover assignment.

Who had she worked for? During that time, too many men to count had wanted Cory dead.

He exhaled and pushed his fingers through his hair. Now the tables were turned. Her life was in danger and it was his job to protect her. Hopefully, she didn't still work for the same person who'd wanted his head on a platter four years ago. It'd be hard to watch her back and his at the same time.

He met her dark blue eyes, still sparking with anger. "Then I suppose it was my own fault for trusting you to begin with."

The annoyance in her expression faded, and her mouth dropped into a frown. Her eyes weren't as lively as they'd been a moment ago. Could she be regretting her actions? Did she feel any sorrow?

He cleared his throat. "So, now I know you're the daughter of a billionaire and you're Stephen's niece, what else should I know about you?"

She lowered her gaze.

"You'd told me back then you were studying law," he asked. "Was that a lie?"

She nodded. "When I met you, I was going to school, but not for law. I really didn't have any direction back then. But now, I'm a Medical Transcriptionist, and I work at home."

She was lying. There was no way she could do that and afford this house payment. He'd gotten to know her pretty well back in Bermuda, and when she rubbed her thumbnail against her pointer finger, she was hiding something. She did that now. It didn't matter. She'd already destroyed his trust.

"Where's your husband?"

Her eyes grew wide. Her head bounced up and her body stiffened. Apparently, he'd hit another wrong button asking that question.

"My...husband?"

He'd make her tell him the truth one way or another. "Yes. Meggie's father."

Her shoulders relaxed. "He's...umm...he left when he discovered I was pregnant."

"I'm sorry." Strike one. He'd keep pushing her until she confessed everything. He scooted away from the table and took his glass to the sink. "What about Zack? Anything I should know about him?"

She shrugged. "He works for my father."

"He's not your current lover?"

She snorted as a laugh escaped her. "Lover? He's more like an older brother."

"That's not the way it looked earlier while you were bandaging his hand."

She rolled her eyes. "Believe what you want, but I think of him as a brother. Being intimate with him would be sick and wrong." She scrunched her cute little nose.

He turned on the water and rinsed out his glass.

"What about you?" she asked.

He shut off the water and set the glass in the sink. "What about me?"

"You never told me you were an FBI agent. So obviously I wasn't the only one keeping secrets."

He dropped his shoulders and leaned his hip against the counter. She had him there.

"Touché." He sighed. "No, I never told you about my career. The reason I went on vacation was to get away from anything remotely related with the FBI. Work had burned me out so I took a break. I had a lot of personal crap going on in my life and I didn't want to talk about it."

"So you're not with the FBI any longer?"

"I'm retired. The incident when I was shot and fell over the cliffs forced me into early retirement."

"What do you do now?"

"I'm a private investigator."

She snickered then quickly placed her hand over her mouth.

Was she mocking his profession? "It's true. My life has slowed way down since my FBI days."

"Then how did you get this job?"

"Stephen and I still keep in touch. He called me and pleaded with me to help him. He was worried about you and Meggie. Since your uncle saved my life on several occasions, I couldn't turn him down."

She nodded. "You're a good friend, then. My uncle is a very special man."

"I agree."

She returned to her chair and sat. Leaning her elbows on the table, she dropped her chin in her hands. "So now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been hired to protect me. How are you going to do that when you can't stand me?"

He chuckled and moved to the table, taking his chair once again. "I guess we'll have to start over. You're now my client. No matter what, I will protect you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Forgive me if I don't believe you. How can you protect me when you wish we hadn't even met?"

He shrugged. "To me, you're just the job. I won't think about our past, but instead concentrate on here and now. You're in danger and need protection."

Although who'll protect me? His heart clenched.

"Besides," he continued, "you act as if you don't like me much, either." He c****d his head. "Which is a little strange, because the last time I saw you, you couldn't get enough of me. You acted as if I was your very life."

She scowled. "A lot has changed since then. I went through a terrible period of suffering after I thought you were dead. For many nights, I couldn't sleep. I had constant nightmares that lasted for a good year after that. I've done a lot of growing since then and I've adjusted my life accordingly."

"I'm sure you have."

She played with her thumbnail again. He bunched his hands underneath the table and narrowed his eyes.

"Taylor, as much as you try to act innocent, I know you're hiding something. I will find out what that is."

She glanced out the window again. Obviously, she held something back. Something she didn't want him to know. He already knew she'd had a part in his accident since she'd been talking to the very man responsible just before he'd been shot. Too bad he couldn't find him now. Taylor would lead him in the right direction, with his prodding, of course. He'd eventually get the real story out of what had happened.

"What about...um...our marriage?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"What marriage?"

She looked his way, her eyes wide. "We were married two days before you were shot. Or have you forgotten?"

He shook his head. "I haven't forgotten. But you only thought we were married. Our last week together, I was informed of my new undercover assignment. I decided the only way to protect you was to marry you. Another agent made the arrangements. It wasn't until after I almost died that I was told the marriage was a set up."

Nodding, she turned back to the window. "That's good to know. I had no idea how to explain it to my father."

She acted like she didn't care which, of course, she didn't. So then why had she married him in the first place?

"Besides that," he continued, "even if that preacher had been licensed, because you used a fake last name, that right there would have made the marriage incomplete."

"True," she muttered.

He stood and walked toward the sliding glass door in the kitchen. "I'm going to check outside to see if there's anything suspicious."

He stepped through the doorway. These next few weeks were going to be torturous trying to protect someone he didn't trust. Not only that, trying to keep their passionate memories from filling his mind would be murder.