“Not a clue.” Stella looped the blue and green sarong around her again and again, checking in the mirror to make sure she got it just right. She spun back to face Jose. “And if I did know and I told you, then I would have to kill you.”
“That’s supposed to be my line.” He slipped his hands under the edge of the kanga he’d just bought for her from a street vendor.
The Kenyan bed and breakfast by the ocean was a little hokey with its over-the-top safari room. But she enjoyed it all the same—from the zebra skin rug to the mosquito netting around the bed. Even the carved wood animals with a gloss perfection that hinted they might just well say “Made in China” on the bottom.
They had one weekend left before finally she had her chance to blend in with a group of foreign exchange students doing a work study in an area known for recruiting new foot soldiers for anarchy. Jose’s stint in Africa dealing with the pirate issue was nearly over, a new team stepping in for the next rotation. By the time she finished her assignment, he would have returned to the States.
And then? They’d both said the big “love” word and maybe it was too early to talk marriage, but was she crazy to want reassurance before they said good-bye?
He hauled her closer, guiding her with him as he backed toward the bed, shouldering through the mosquito netting.
She batted his hands away, plastering a playful smile on her face. “You’re bad.”
“Not as bad as I want us to be.” He tugged again, toppling her onto the bed with him. “Unwrapping you plays a part in more than one of my fantasies.”>“Then why do I feel like such a failure?” She blinked back the tears and drew the stiff quilted bedspread around her legs. “I love my job. I love serving my country, but…”
“Hey, now, stop.” He grabbed her shoulders, his strength so welcome especially now when she was falling apart. “This is adrenaline letdown talking. It’s been one of those razor’s edge days. Hell, my heart is about to pound out of my chest too.”
The tears burned hotter and fuller. “I think I’m done, Jose. The life of a field operative is short for a reason and I’m afraid I’ve pushed the odds to the limit with this mission.”
She needed objectivity and she didn’t have it. She couldn’t live with the fear that she’d begun losing it after the split with Jose, because that would mean she’d been doing her job at half speed, compromising the integrity of her work. Jose started to interrupt, but she needed to talk this through. To get it all out there.
“I’m ready to move onto another phase of my career working for Interpol… or maybe I’ll transfer to a CIA or FBI office.” The plan came together, making sense. “Only a small fraction of us do wet work in the field like this. I’m done, damn it. I’m done.”
“You say that like you’re serious.”
“Because I am.” She stroked her hand over his hair that had dried sticking up in places from a decontamination shower. “I also understand you’re not ready to dry off your feet. Maybe you never will be.”
He scowled. “Are you booting me out?”
She didn’t know what she was doing other than lashing out, the pain inside her expanding until she had to have relief. “I’m starting to really understand now. You never wanted this to work between us, not really.”
“I offered to marry you.”
“Offered?” Her eyebrows shot up along with her blood pressure. “Offered? Actually, the way I remember it, I proposed to you. But hey, let’s not quibble when you were so generous. Other than the fact I want kids and you won’t even consider it.”
“And I want this f**king genetic curse to end with me,” he snapped, his patience visibly fraying.
Of course he had almost been taken out by a horrific weapon of mass destruction. But the day had hardly been a picnic for her either. The fury inside her roared louder. “Then adopt.”
“I swear to God, if you recite another study about the power of believing in yourself, I’m going to lose it. Damn it, you know what happened with my sister, to my nephew…”
Oh God, what was she doing here? Her anger deflated in a flash as she thought about the night he’d told her about his nephew, about the horrific accident. “Shhh… Shhh.” She leaned forward on her knees, her fingers over his lips. “You’re right. Let’s not talk about that. I don’t want to hurt you, and heaven knows I don’t want to fight with you. It makes me get too fired up and the last thing I need to be right now is emotional around you.”
He grasped her hand, gripping a hint too tightly, and kissed her fist, hard. The ache in her chest pushed the tears the rest of the way free, in big gulping sobs. Jose hauled her to his chest and she let the tears flow out, along with so many tangled emotions. The horror of a cruel world. The betrayal by her mother. The fear of losing Jose.
She was through. Through chasing ghosts. Through believing in dreams or even hoping for the future. She wasn’t going to die in some godforsaken country alone, like her mom, without ever really connecting with anyone in order to keep the job safe. Anonymous.
Screw. That.
She wasn’t going to be another statistic spit out by a code-breaking program—a name with no real roots. She wasn’t sacrificing the chance at a real family to the almighty job.
Gasping, she gripped Jose’s shoulders tighter, her nails digging deep as she soaked his shirt with her pain. She hurt so damn bad and right now his arms were the only thing keeping her from shattering altogether.
His hands soothed along her spine, her braid brushing his wrists. He tugged the band loose and threaded his fingers through, loosening the thick mass, massaging her scalp. Her body melted into his. The sharp edge of her pain found another channel, another outlet.
Desire.
***