The Only Way Out Part 11

The stranger raised his head and begged. She didn't have to understand the language to recognize pleading. Her husband shook his head.

"You betrayed me," he said in English. "You stole from me."

"I have paid it back with interest," the man answered in the same language. "It was a momentary lapse. A present for my child. Forgive me, I beg you. Forgive me. Until that moment, I had been the most loyal-"

The single gunshot cut the man off. His eyes widened in surprise as blood blossomed on the front of his white shirt. He continued to stare up at Kray for several seconds before slumping to the floor. Andie bit back a scream as her stomach started to heave. She backed up from the room, slipped off her shoes and ran down the hall to their bedroom. Once there, she locked herself in the bathroom and, with a towel pressed against her mouth, gave in to the hysteria.

After some time had pa.s.sed, perhaps a few minutes, perhaps an hour, she left the bathroom. Kray was waiting for her in the bedroom. His expressionless face told her all she needed to know. Somehow he'd sensed her presence. Would he kill her now, or would he wait?

"The man was disloyal to me," he said, watching her as a predator watched a potential victim, gauging her strength, her ability to fight back.

"I see." Her voice was calm. Did he know how much that cost her?

"I'm sorry you had to witness his punishment."

Punishment? Kray had shot someone in cold blood. In the same room where he'd made love to her. Didn't any of that matter?

She stared at the man she'd married and realized she'd never known him at all. So many oddities from their honeymoon suddenly made sense. He wasn't a successful businessman, he was a criminal. A murderer. G.o.d knows what other crimes he'd committed.

She kept her gaze locked with his, her body straight, her hands still. She said little as he explained. When he held out his arms, she went to him. When he touched her body, she forced herself to sigh with pleasure.

For the first time her skin crawled when he caressed her nakedness. For the first time, she pretended to reach ecstasy. For the first time her soft words of love were bitter-tasting lies. She played the game as if her life depended on it, for it did. And not justher life.

Later, when Kray left her to dress for their evening out, she stared at her naked body in the mirror. She touched her still-flat belly and was grateful she'd never mentioned her suspicions. She didn't want him to know. If he did, he wouldn't let her go.

She waited a month, wondering each day if it would be her last. But he seemed to believe her when she expressed contentment. He never showed any doubt of her loyalty. And when she left him, he didn't come after her.

The memories faded as quickly as they'd come. Andie stared at the blue sky, at the palm trees and the sand. Despite the warm afternoon, she shuddered. Bobby spoke to her and she replied automatically, but she couldn't shake the feeling of dread. She knew what would happen if Kray caught them. She knew her ex-husband would reclaim her child and kill her as easily as he'd killed that man six and a half years ago.

The scents of the island mocked her, reminding her of her honeymoon. How foolish she'd been, how willing to believe the best. Now she hated everything about the island, especially the fact that she was trapped here. She was a fool. No wonder Jeff despised her.

She turned her thoughts to him because anything was better than thinking about the past. She glanced toward the house. She could see Jeff sitting in the shadow of the porch. He'd still been in his room when Bobby had dragged her out of bed. So far they'd managed to avoid each other. With luck, they could spend the next day and a half living in the same house without having any contact at all.

Who was this stranger who protected her and her son? She was grateful he'd rescued her. If he hadn't been with her, she would have been caught at the airport for sure. Was he really a spy? He had to work for the government in some way, but how? She told herself to stop asking questions. She didn't need to know anything about him.

But that didn't stop her from wondering about his late wife. He still mourned her. He must have loved her very much. Andie was willing to bet he hadn't been with another woman since her death. He hadn't kissed her like a man who'd been keeping company with a lot of woman. His kiss had been hungry, as if he'd been starving and she was the first meal he'd had in who knows how long.

It was the circ.u.mstances, she told herself, not wanting to remember the kiss and her reaction to it. Not wanting to recall her need and the powerful attraction that had swept her away, even when she'd known better. It wasn't just that her life was in danger and she had to get her son off the island. It was that she didn't know anything about Jeff. All the romantic relationships in her life had been impulsive. She'd never met someone, sort of liked him,then gradually, slowly, built a bond. She immediately jumped into the fire. Look where that had gotten her. Married to a murderer, and now, on the run from him.

She adjusted her sungla.s.ses and splashed more water on her legs and torso. She envied Jeff. Envied him the love he'd shared with his wife before she'd been taken from him. Andie had wanted that for herself once. She'd believed she'd found it with Kray. When those dreams had shattered, she'd known she would spend the rest of her life alone. She couldn't trust herself to fall for the right kind of man and she couldn't risk letting someone learn too much about her. It could endanger both their lives.

She glanced at her son. "You're turning into a prune, Bobby. Let's get out for a little while and dry off."

"Ah, Mo-om."

He was only five, but already had the "ah, Mo-om" down perfectly. She smiled. "The pool will still be here in an hour or so. Besides, I want tofreshen your sunscreen."

Bobby poked at his arm,then grinned at her. "I'm not burned." He wrinkled his white zinc-oxide-covered nose.

"Let's keep it that way." She took off her sungla.s.ses and tossed them onto the cement edging the pool. There was no graceful way on or off a raft. After taking a deep breath, she rolled off the side and into the water. She stood up and pushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Her now-wet braid hung down her back. "Come on, sport. Let's find something fun to do."

A quick glance told her Jeff was still sitting on the porch. Andie snagged her sungla.s.ses and the T-shirts she and Bobby had worn over their swimsuits. She tossed him his, then slipped her own on. They could walk by the ocean, she thought, not wanting to deal with Jeff. He'd said the rocks were dangerous but if they stayed on the sh.o.r.e it should be fine.

"Want to play baseball?" Jeff asked.

She turned toward him. He was walking down the stairs carrying a plastic bat in one hand and three plastic b.a.l.l.s in the other.

Bobby finished wiggling into his T-shirt and raced over to Jeff. "Can I hit first?"

"Sure," Jeff answered, but he was looking at her. Waiting. "We need three to make a team."

Andie slipped on her sungla.s.ses. He'd washed away the dyes from the previous night. His hair was once again blond, his skin tanned, but not dark. His T-shirt advertised a local fishing cove. His shorts were well-worn and exposed long, powerful thighs. Blue eyes held her gaze. Blue eyes almost the same color as her own. Despite their outward similarities, tall, lean, blond, they were nothing alike. There wasa hardness to Jeff, an edge she didn't understand. They both lived on the fringes, but for different reasons and in different worlds. Yet last night...

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He stiffened as if he knew what she was thinking. He couldn't, she told herself even as she flushed. He couldn't see through her sungla.s.ses. But she still took a step back. She still winced when he glared at her as if he hated her.

"You gonna play, Mom?" Bobby asked.

She glanced at her son. He grinned in antic.i.p.ation. He liked Jeff and the man was good to her son. That's all that mattered. "Sure, I'll play."

"Why don't you be in the outfield," he said, motioning to an area close to the Jeep. They used towels to mark the bases.

By the time Bobby was bent over, ready to hit, the dangerous man who'd kissed her last night and still hated her this morning was gone. In his place was a handsome but distant stranger. Better for both of them to keep it that way.

Jeff moved close to where Bobby was standing. He pitched gently. The boy swung and missed.

"Look at the ball," Jeff said. "Don't turn away when I pitch it. I won't hit you."

"Okay."

Bobby bent over and clutched the bat tightly. Jeff pitched again. This time her son connected with the ball. It arced about ten feet in the air before falling to the ground about a yard from where Jeff was standing.

Bobby dropped the bat and yelled. "I hit it Mommy, did you see? I hit it!"

"Good for you. Now run to first base."

Bobby took off as fast as he could. His small feet dug into the sand. He laughed when he reached the base,then looked at her. She glanced at Jeff, but he'd made no move to pick up the ball.

"Keep going," she called.

Bobby started to second. He said something, but she didn't hear it. She was staring at Jeff. He looked at her son with such an expression oflonging, she thought her heart might crack in two. As her child ran the bases, Jeff watched the boy. She knew he wasn't seeing Bobby at all, but was instead picturing the child he'd lost. The tragedy of it all made her want to cry out against the unfairness. Being with Bobby was hard on Jeff, yet he never let the child know. He was patient and gentle, even thoughtful, bringing back toys from his nocturnal excursion.

Bobby jumped on the towel that was home base. "I went all the way around," he said proudly.

"Good for you," Andie called, clapping at his accomplishment.

Jeff shook himself slightly. "Let's try it again." When Bobby picked up the bat, Jeff pitched. The boy missed.

Andie watched Jeff coaching her son. She couldn't hear anything in his voice or see anything in his expression. He didn't give away his pain, but he must be feeling it. He hated her, yet took time with her son. He risked his life to get them off the island. He would risk it again, when they were gone, to capture Kray. To bring an evil man to justice. How many times had he faced death for his country?

Bobby swung and missed again. He didn't let the boy get frustrated; instead he moved closer and showed him how to swing the bat.

Andie recognized the feeling that swept over her. Admiration for the man and his courage. If only they'd met under other circ.u.mstances. If only he didn't dislike her quite so much.

Bobby swung again and missed. "That's three," he said and set the bat down. "Mommy, are you going to hit?"

"Sure." Andie moved toward the towel that marked home plate. She turned toward Jeff. He stared at her for a long time.

"Why don't you pitch to your mom?" he said, handing Bobby the ball.

Her son grinned and took his place. Jeff moved to the outfield. Andie pushed her gla.s.ses up her nose,then picked up the bat.

"Come on, Bobby," she called. "Over the plate. Gimme a good one and I'll hit it clear to the other side of the island."

The first pitch was solow, it hit her in the ankle. She jumped,then chased the ball toward the palm trees by the surf. When she grabbed it, she threw it back to Bobby.

The warm sun felt good on her back. She dug her toes into the sand and bent over the plate. In the background she could hear the humming of insects and the faint call of birds. The pounding of the waves added rhythm to the noises. Bobby pitched again.

This time the plastic ball came directly toward her. She swung and hit it, sending it over her son's head toward their imaginary outfield. Jeff took off after the ball. Andie dropped the bat and started for first base.

"Run, Mom," Bobby yelled, jumping up and down. "Run fast."

She reached the base, then tried to judge the distance to second. Jeff had already collected the ball and was heading toward her. But there was no one for him to throw the ball to. She started running.

He picked up his pace and angled toward her. They were both aiming for the faded red towel lying in the pale sand. She laughed out loud, wondering how long it had been since she'd just plain had fun.

"Run, Mom. Catch her, Jeff!"

Andie stuck her tongue out at her son. "Make up your mindwho you're rooting for."

Bobby grinned back.

Jeff was gaining. He raced toward her, the ball held in his right hand. She thought about diving for the base,then slowed suddenly when Jeff's expression changed. He stopped running, as if giving her the chance to get to the base first. She didn't understand why. Then she saw his eyes and the fire flaring there. She became conscious of wearing only a T-shirt over her bathing suit. Her legs were exposed to his hungry gaze. An answering need flickered inside of her.

His mouth twisted with disgust. She didn't know if it was at him orherself and she didn't want to know. The only thing that was clear was that he didn't want to touch her if he could avoid it.

"Tag her, Jeff," Bobby said.

Jeff took a step toward her, then reached out and brushed her forearm with the ball. She looked down and saw his arousal straining at the front of his shorts. He wanted her. Her thighs quivered with antic.i.p.ation. She wanted him, too.

"Jeff?" she whispered.

"No." His voice was a low growl. He dropped the ball on the sand. "The last one in the pool has to clean up after dinner."

He raced toward the pool, tearing off his T-shirt as he went. Bobby ran after him and jumped in. Her son's laughter filled the afternoon. She watched them wrestle and play for a while,then went inside. Her body still hummed with awareness. Her skin was hypersensitive, her movements restless. But she would gladly ignore the pa.s.sion, she thought as she sat in the house alone. The bigger need was for someone to talk to. She wasmore lonely than she was aroused. She would trade all the desire, even their kiss from the night before, if only Jeff would like her half as much as he wanted her.

Clouds rolled in through the early evening. By the time the sun set, they obscured the colors on the horizon. Jeff sat on the porch railing, staring out into the darkness. There would be no stars tonight. According to the weather report, the squall would be over quickly. Good news because they would need the light of the moon and the stars tomorrow when they went to meet the boat.

In just a little over twenty-four hours, Andie and Bobby would be gone. He would be free to get on with his mission. He'd survived worse than this for much longer. He would endure her presence while she was here.

Through the open windows he could hear m.u.f.fled conversation,then the faintclick as the bedroom door closed. Bobby had been sleepy during dinner, exhausted from his day spent in the pool and playing baseball. Andie walked into the living room, but didn't join him on the porch. He was grateful. He needed his time in the shadows. Often he dreaded night, knowing the ghosts would join him, but this evening he welcomed their company. He needed them to help him remember.

He closed his eyes to recall his wife's face. He could see J.J. laughing, playing,struggling over a big word in the books he was just beginning to read. His son still lived. But Jeanne was gone.

He thought about their wedding day and how she'd looked in her beautiful long white dress. He could see the shape, but her individual features blurred. He called on other memories their honeymoon, the time they spent three weeks inLondon. Buildings, other people, half bits of conversation came into focus, but not her. He'd lost her by betraying her memory. After he'd spent five solitary years mourning her, she was gone.

He stared at the ocean, comforting himself with the thought that if he survived, he would go home and see her pictures. Then he would remember. He hadn't brought any with him; he couldn't risk it. He had no ID, nothing to link him with his real ident.i.ty. Safer for him if he was caught.

He grimaced. If he was caught after he killed Kray, he would be shot on the spot and no one would give a d.a.m.n about who he was. If he was caught before taking care of his enemy, Kray would recognize him instantly and the game would be up. Still, the precautions made him feel better. As if he had a chance.

"Mommy, I want a gla.s.s of water."

He heard Andie's bare feet slap against the wooden floor. "Bobby, it's late. Go to sleep."

"But I want Jeff to tell me a story about Echo. I didn't dream about him last night and I want to. Can we get a bird when we go home?"

She laughed softly. "What on earth would you do with a bird?"

"Teach him to talk."

"I think you talk enough for yourself and any three pets. Come on back to bed and I'll tell you one more story, but that's all."

Their voices faded as they walked down the hallway. Andie Cochran wasn't anything he'd expected. The flashy bimbo with an eye for wealth didn't exist. In her place was an intelligent, brave woman who loved her child with all her heart. Despite her fear, she was doing everything she could to bring her kid up safely, without letting the trauma damage him. She had guts. He would give her that. If only she didn't turn him on.

He listened to the faint whispers of her story about Echo. Bobby's questions became fewer, his voice slurred as he drifted off to sleep. Andie returned to the living room. She walked to the front door and paused.

"Is he asleep?" he asked.

She stepped outside. "Finally. I don't know how he can be so tired and still keep on going. I guess he's afraid of missing something. This is all an exciting adventure to him."

"Now that he's with you."

She settled on the swing. He heard the creak of the wooden slats, then the faint brush of her foot on the porch as she pushed off. "Yes, being with me makes a difference." She sighed. "He won't talk about what happened with his father. I'm afraid to push him."

"Is he acting normal?"

"Pretty much. I'm hoping all he's suffered from is homesickness and being scared about being away from me."

"Kray's an animal, but he wouldn't hurt his heir."

"I hope you're right," Andie said.

Jeff shifted on the railing. The porch swing was behind him on his left. If he turned, he would be able to see her. The light from the living room spilled out the windows and would illuminate her face. But he didn't want to see her. Looking at her would make him think about touching her and being close to her. He would remember last night and their kiss. He would want to apologize for being a jerk. She would touch him then, and he would lose even more of his past. The pain and the memories were all he had left.

He shouldn't have kissed her. He shouldn't have thought about the kiss today when they'd been playing ball. He hadn't been able to help himself. There was something about her that drew him. He'd never experienced that reaction before. Of course he'd wanted women before, but never to the exclusion of everything else. Never to the point of endangering his sanity and putting the mission in jeopardy. He'd been a faithful husband, if not an especially loving one. Why did this have to be happening now?

"It looks like it might rain," she said.