“Yes?”
Her eyes met his. He’d never seen her look happier. He was a man who prided himself on his courage but now, he felt his throat go dry.
“Mia,” he said, and pushed back his chair. “Baby, will you dance with me?”
She went into his arms as if she’d been there all her life. As if she’d be there forever. And she would be, he thought, closing his eyes as he gathered her close. She would be his, always.
He touched his lips to her hair.
“Happy?” he said softly.
Mia nodded. She was almost afraid to speak. It was silly, she knew, but she could feel the tears gathering behind her eyes.
How come women cried when they were happy?
How could her terrifying flight from Cartagena have led to such bliss?
They were questions without answers, but so what? All that mattered was this. Being in Matthew’s arms. Knowing she loved him.
Knowing she trusted him.
Because she did. No matter what she’d believed about him initially, she trusted him now.
It was time to tell him the truth. Everything, from start to finish.
That she worked for a faceless place known as the Agency, even if she hadn’t even heard of it a year ago and knew she’d never, ever want to work for them again.
That she’d been sent to Cartagena as Hamilton’s P.A. so she could find out if he had turned and was working for the Rosario cartel.
Douglas grew suspicious. Without admitting anything, he’d accused her of spying on him. She denied it, and he decided to take out what he called “insurance.”
He set it up to look as if she’d tried to smuggle cocaine to the States. Then he quashed the supposed attempt.
“Do anything stupid, and I’ll turn you over to the local authorities,” he’d said with a nasty smile. “Imagine how it will be to spend a few years in a Colombian prison.”
And he made it equally clear that part of the price she’d pay for staying out of prison was warming his bed.
That was when she’d decided to run.
She’d found a list of Douglas’s cartel contacts and the monies they’d paid him hidden on his computer. She downloaded the list to a mini compact disk and fled.
If she could just get to Bogotá, she’d told herself, get to the Embassy…
Except, Matthew intercepted her. And even though Douglas had sent him to find her, she’d come to trust him.
To trust him…
“Matthew,” she said breathlessly. Couples around them were swaying to the music but Mia came to a stop. “Matthew.” Her heart thudded as she looked up into the eyes of her lover. “I have to talk to you.”
She saw, immediately, that he understood. She didn’t want to discuss the weather or the wine or the food. She wanted to discuss what had brought them together…and what kept them apart.
He nodded. “That’s good,” he said, “because there are things I have to tell you, too.”
He led her back to their table. She drew the mantilla around her shoulders and picked up her purse while he took a stack of bills from his wa
llet and left them for the waiter.
Then he led her out into the night.