All or Nothing (6 page)

He could have told her something. Anything. But he hadn’t even tried to come up with a rationale for his disappearances. He’d just
left
.

“I thought you would worry more,” he said simply.

Although she wondered if there was a flash of guilt in his mocha-brown eyes. That would go a long way toward keeping her from pummeling him with fruit from the bowl on the counter.

“And you think I didn’t worry when I had no clue where you were or what you were doing?” Those sleepless nights came back to haunt her. “In the beginning, I was scared to death something had happened to you those times I couldn’t locate you. It took me a long time to reach the conclusion you must be cheating on me, like my father fooled around on my mom.”

He straightened, his eyes flinty hard. “I never slept with another woman.”

“I get that.” She raised a hand. “Hell, I figured that out even then. But you still lied to me. You cheated on me with that damn job.”

He scrubbed a hand over his scowl. “Do you think operatives have the luxury of printing out an itinerary for their spouses?”

“Of course not. I’m not that naive.” More like she’d let herself stay oblivious, clinging to the hope she might be wrong about him hiding things from her. “But Colonel Salvatore made it clear tonight you could have told me something and you chose not to.”

“I chose what I thought was best for you.” His mouth went tight.

Well, too damn bad. She had every right to be upset.

“You thought it was best to sacrifice our marriage? Because that’s the decision you made for both of us, without even giving me the option of deciding for myself.”

“I won’t apologize for keeping you safe.”

His intractable words made her realize how far apart they were from seeing eye to eye on this.

“Fine. But consider how you’d feel if the tables were turned and it was me disappearing for days on end without a word of explanation. Or what you would have thought if I’d left you to celebrate your anniversary by yourself.” He’d flown her to a couples retreat in the Seychelles. The island country off the coast of Africa had been so romantic and exotic. Except he’d left her sitting in a dining room full of hormones all alone.

He’d said nothing, as per usual.

Knowing she’d let herself be turned into some kind of doll adorning his arm and decorating his world perhaps stung most of all. “And to think I was that close to falling in your arms again. Well, no worries about that now. I am so over you, Conrad Hughes.”

She angled sideways past him, through the door.

He gripped her arm. “You can’t leave now. No matter how angry you are with me, it’s not safe for you out there.”

“I got that from your boss, thanks. I’m just going to pack. In my room.
Alone.
”

His hand slid down her arm, sending a traitorous jolt of awareness straight to her belly until she pressed her legs together against the moist ache still simmering.

“You were able to arrange things with work and for Mimi?”

Standing this close to Conrad with her emotions on overload was not a smart idea. She needed to wrap this up and retreat to her room to regroup. “She’s settled, but Anthony can’t watch her indefinitely. He travels with his job. But I’ll figure that out later.”

She brushed past.

“Anthony.”

Conrad’s flat, emotionless voice sent prickles up her spine. She turned slowly, her evening gown brushing the tops of her bare feet. “He’s the nephew of a former patient.”

Not that she owed him any explanation after the way he’d walled her out for years.

“And he watches our dog while you’re out of town.” Conrad still leaned in the doorway, completely motionless other than the slow blink of his too-sharp eyes.

“It’s not like he and I are dating...”

“Yet. But that’s why you came to Monte Carlo, isn’t it? So you would be free to move on with Anthony or some other guy.” Conrad scratched his eyebrow. “I think I pretty much have the picture in place.”

And clearly he wasn’t one bit happy with that image. Well, too damn bad after all the tears she’d shed seeing his casino pictured in tabloids, him with a different woman on his arm each time. “You don’t get to be mad at me. I’m the one who’s been lied to.”

“Then I guess that makes it easier for us to spend time alone together.” He shoved away from the door frame, his shoulder brushing hers as he passed. “Pack your bag, sweetheart. We’re taking a family vacation.”

Six

T
he bulletproof, tinted windows on his balcony offered Conrad the protection he needed while escaping the claustrophobic air of the penthouse.

Jayne had already picked out his replacement. He realized now that she’d come to Monte Carlo to end their marriage so she could move on with another man. If she hadn’t already.

Scratch that.

He didn’t think she was sleeping with the guy, not yet. Jayne was an innately honorable woman. And while he didn’t assume she would stay celibate for three years, she wouldn’t have almost had sex with him if she’d already committed to another man.

Her integrity was one of the things about her that had drawn him right from the start. She had a goodness inside her that was rare and should be protected. For the first time, it hit him how much she must have missed her career when she lived with him, and even though Monte Carlo was his primary residence, he’d traveled from holding to holding too often for her to secure a new job. He’d never thought about how long and lonely her days must have been.

Looking back, he probably should have left her the hell alone. He deserved Jayne’s anger and more. He’d been wrong to marry her in the first place knowing he would never choose to tell her about his contract work with Interpol. He’d deluded himself that he held back out of a need to protect her, but deep down he knew he’d always feared he needed the job more than he needed her. That he needed that outlet to rebel, a way to channel the part of his father that lived inside him, the part that had almost landed him in jail as a teenager.

He’d been so damn crazy for Jayne he’d convinced himself he could make it work.

He’d only delayed the inevitable.

Now she was paying the price for his mistake. He resisted the urge to put his fist through a wall. Her life could be at risk because of him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to her.

He scoured the cove below, every yacht and cruise ship lighting up the shoreline suddenly became suspect.

A sound from the doorway sent him pivoting fast, his hand on the 9mm he’d strapped into a shoulder harness.

Troy Donavan lounged in the entrance, his fedora in hand. “Whoa, hold up. Don’t shoot your body double.”

“My what?”

Donavan stepped out onto the balcony. “Your double. I’ll travel as you and you travel as me. If anyone manages to track either of our movements, they’ll still be led in the wrong direction.” He dropped his hat on the lounger. “Salvatore said we’re not heading out for another couple of hours. I can keep watch over Jayne while you catch a nap.”

“I’m cool. But thanks. Insomnia has its perks.” He glanced sideways at his best friend of over seventeen years. “Did Salvatore send you here to check on me after the showdown with Jayne?”

“He alerted me to the crap with Zhutov and the concerns for your wife. I know how I would feel in your shoes, and it’s not pretty.”

Damn straight. He didn’t know how Donavan handled having Hillary keyed into the Interpol world. She’d even started training to actively participate in future freelance missions.

“I have to get Jayne as far away and under the radar as possible.” How long would this nightmare last? Would she end up spending the rest of her life on the run? He wouldn’t leave her side until he knew she was safe. He’d wanted to grow old with her, but sure as hell not that way.

“I promise you, brother, if Zhutov has so much as breathed Jayne’s name, he will be stopped. You have to believe that.”

“After this is over, I have to let her go.” Those words were tough to say, especially now with the image of her building a life with another man. “I was wrong to think I could have her and the job.”

“People do dangerous jobs and still have lives. You can’t expect every cop, firefighter, military person and agent not to have families. Even if we don’t get married, there are still people in our lives who are important to us. The best thing you can do for Jayne is stick to her, tight.”

“You’re right.”

“Then why aren’t you smiling?” Donavan clapped him on the shoulder. “Want to talk about what else is chewing you up?”

“Not really.”

“Fair enough.”

And still he couldn’t stop from talking. “She just...gets to me.”

He remembered the way she’d called him on the carpet for teasing her on the ride home tonight, giving him hell for talking about that evening they saw
La Bohème
together. As if he knew that would turn her inside out the same way it did him. Damn, he’d missed that spark she possessed.

“That’s what women do. They burrow under your skin.” Donavan grinned. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

Conrad didn’t feel one damn bit like smiling. He stared down at his clenched fist, at his own bare ring finger. “She’s seeing someone else.”

“Damn,” Donavan growled. “That’s got to really bite. But it’s been three years since the two of you split. Did you really expect you would both stay celibate?”

Conrad looked out over the harbor, the sea stretching as far and dark as each day he’d spent apart from Jayne.

Troy straightened quickly. “Whoa, wait. Are you telling me you haven’t seen anyone else while you’ve been separated?”

Still, Conrad held his silence.

“But the tabloids...”

“They lie.” Conrad smiled wryly at his friend. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

Donavan stared back, not even bothering to disguise his total shock. “You haven’t been with anybody in
three years?
”

“I’m married.” He thumbed his empty ring finger. “A married man does not cheat. It’s dishonorable.”

Donavan scrubbed both hands over his face then shook his head as if to clear the shock away. “So let me get this straight... You haven’t seen your wife since she left you. Which means you haven’t had sex with anyone in
three years?
”

“You’re a damn genius.”

Donavan whistled softly. “You must be having some serious quality ‘alone time’ in the shower.”

Understatement of the year. Or rather, that would be
three
years. “Your sympathy for my pain is overwhelming.”

“Doesn’t sound like you need sympathy. Sounds like you need to get—”

“Thanks,” he interrupted, not even wanting to risk Donavan’s words putting images in his head. “I can handle my own life.”

“Because you’re doing such a bang-up job at it lately. But wait.” He thumped himself on the forehead. “Poor choice of words.”

Against his will, a smile tugged at Conrad’s face. “Really, Donovan. Don’t you have some geeky computer tech support work that needs your attention before we all leave?”

“You can call me a geek all night long, brother, but I’ll be sleeping next to a woman.” Donavan punched him in the arm.

Conrad lifted an eyebrow, but preferred the joking to sympathy any day of the week. Something his best friend undoubtedly understood. “Hit me again, and I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

Donavan snagged his fedora from the lounger. “Everybody wants to beat the crap out of me today. What’s up with that?”

“Get out of here before I break you in half.”

“Because I feel very sorry for you, I’m just going to walk away.” He spun his hat on one finger. “But I’m taking a bottle of your Chivas with me so you won’t feel bad for scaring me off.”

“Jackass.”

“I feel the love, brother. I feel the love.” He opened the French doors and paused, half in, half out. “See you inside later?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded once. “And thank you.”

Donavan nodded back. No more words were needed.

His friend had helped him decompress enough to see clearly again. He needed to keep his eye on the goal now, to keep Jayne safe at all cost.

He might not be the man she deserved, but he was damn well the man she needed.

* * *

Jayne rolled her small bag out into the living room, having used the past couple of hours to change out of her evening gown and generally get her head together. If that was even possible after her world had been so deeply shaken in such a short time.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet.

If they hadn’t been interrupted, she would have been in Conrad’s bed now, completely unsuspecting of
this
.

She realized his secret had noble roots, a profession that brought justice, so different than her father’s secret life, his hidden second family with a mistress and two children. But the fact that she’d been duped so totally still hurt on a deep level. Trusting her heart and her life to Conrad had been very difficult.

How could she reconcile the fact that she hadn’t even begun to know the man she’d married? Walking away with any kind of peace when she’d thought she understood him was tough enough. But now with so much mystery surrounding Conrad and their life together, she felt like every bit of progress she’d made since leaving had been upended.

And with this possible threat lurking, she didn’t even have the luxury of distance to regain her footing.

The Donavans sat in the leather chairs, talking over glasses of seltzer water. She felt uncomfortable having Troy and Hillary pose as decoys for them. The thought of anybody in harm’s way because of her made her ill. But she hadn’t been given any say on the matter.

She also couldn’t help but note how seamlessly Hillary had been brought into the plan. Apparently not all Interpol operatives kept secrets from their spouses.

The stab of envy for that kind of compatibility wasn’t something she was proud of. But, damn it, why couldn’t she have found her way to that sort of comfort with her husband? What was wrong with her that Conrad had never even considered confiding in her?

Just as she rolled her bag the rest of the way in, Conrad stepped out of his suite. His normal dark and brooding style of clothes had been swapped out for something more in keeping with Troy’s metro style. She couldn’t take her eyes from the relaxed look of her husband in jeans and a jacket, collar open, face unshaved, his thick black hair spiked.

Troy looked back over the chair, water glass in hand. “Good timing. Salvatore should be done any minute now. He’s arranging the travel plans, complete with diversionary stories going out to the press.” He glanced over at his wife. “Did I forget anything?”

“Just this.” Carrying one of her husband’s hats, Hillary walked to Conrad. “You should wear this. And maybe slick back your hair a bit. Here...” She reached for her water glass. “Use some of this since you didn’t have time to shower.”

Troy choked on his drink.

Conrad glared at him.

Jayne wondered what in the world was wrong with both of them.

Her husband took the fedora from Hillary. “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll take good care of his hat.”

“Take good care of yourself while you’re at it,” Hillary said just as her husband looped an arm around her waist and hauled her to his side. “Yes?”

Troy held up his phone. “Text from Salvatore. Time to roll.”

With a hurried goodbye, Troy and Hillary stepped into the elevator, his head bent toward hers to listen to something. The two of them looked so right together, so in sync even in the middle of chaos.

Jealousy gripped Jayne in an unrelenting fist.

The doors slid closed and she wished her feelings could be as easily sealed away. She turned back to her husband. “Where are we going?”

Conrad thumbed through his text message, Troy’s fedora under his arm. “To the jet.”

“And the jet would be going to...”

He looked up, his eyes piercing and closed off all at once. “Somewhere far away from here.”

His evasive answer set her teeth on edge. “Now that I know about your double life, you can drop the tall, dark and mysterious act.”

She yanked the fedora from under his arm, his jacket parting.

A shoulder holster held a silver handgun.

“Oh,” she gasped, knowing she shouldn’t be surprised, but still just... “Oh.”

He pulled his jacket back over the weapon. “The people I help nail don’t play nice. They are seriously dangerous. You can be as angry at me as you want, but you’ll have to trust me, just this once, and save your questions for the airplane. I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know once we’re airborne. Agreed?”

Anything she wanted to know? That was one promise she couldn’t resist. Probably the very reason he’d said it, tossing irresistible temptation her way. But it was an offer she intended to press to the fullest.

She pulled out a silk scarf to wrap over her blond hair. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Once the chartered jet reached cruising altitude, Conrad took his first easy breath since he’d found Salvatore waiting for him in the penthouse. He was that much closer to having Jayne tucked away in the last place anyone would think to find either of them.

Jayne hadn’t moved her eyes off him since they’d left the penthouse. Even now she sat on the other side of the small table, tugging her silk scarf from hand to hand. He watched the glide of the deep purple fabric as it slid from side to side. Until now, he hadn’t realized she dressed in bolder colors these days. A simple thing and inconsequential, but yet another sign that she’d moved on since leaving him. She’d changed and he couldn’t go back to the way things were.

But back to the moment. Without a doubt, the boom was going to fall soon and he would have to answer her questions. He owed her that much and more. He reached for his coffee on the small table between them, a light breakfast set in front of them.

He wasn’t interested in food. Only Jayne. He could read her well and the second she set aside the scarf in her hands he knew. She was ready to talk.

“We’re airborne, and you owe me answers.” She drizzled honey into her tea. “Tell me where we’re going.”

“Africa.”

Freezing midsip, she stared at him over the top of her cup. “Just when I think you can’t surprise me. Are we staying somewhere like the island resort where we planned to spend our first anniversary?”

“No.” He couldn’t miss the subtle reminder of when he’d bailed on their first anniversary retreat in Seychelles. Without a doubt, he owed her for all the times he’d shortchanged her in the past. He raised the window shade, the first morning rays streaking through the clouds. “We’re going to West Africa. I have a house there.”