For Her Eyes Only (10 page)

He arched an eyebrow. “I was awake. Besides, I like to keep fit.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me getting up at the crack of dawn.”

No
,
you’re too busy talking to yourself.
“Aaanyway, I bumped into your good friend Deborah at the gym.” He proceeded to fill her in on the conversation he’d had with the woman, and her eyebrows rose.

“So she was out of the country for a while, huh? That should be easy enough to verify. We’ll let Drew know.”

Ryan nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you were up to speed.”

She beamed. “Thanks.”

Her appreciation took him by surprise. It was as though he’d given her a gift of some sort, or paid her a compliment. He shrugged.
Whatever
. He didn’t think he’d ever understand Vicky. He glanced at his watch.

“We’d better get a hustle on. Breakfast, then therapy.”
Huh
. He never thought he’d hear those words popping out of his mouth. He turned to the shower and tested the water, then shrugged out of his T-shirt. He turned around to find Vicky as still sitting there, her mouth open.

A smile curved his lips. Sometimes she was as confusing as all hell. Other times, like now, he could tell exactly what she was thinking. He was flattered. And horny.

“I’m going to keep stripping, so unless you want an eyeful, you’d better hightail it.” He arched an eyebrow, and drifted his hand under the warm running water. “Or would you like to join me? Come on in, the water’s warm.”

Vicky sprang from her seat and bolted for the bathroom door, and he couldn’t help chuckling at her haste to disappear.

Chapter Eleven

Vicky shifted in her seat. They were in the lounge. All of them. She glanced around at the other couples. One of these couples was responsible for the attack on her close friend and the murder of Dr. Kruger. The muscles in her thighs tightened. Anyone of the couples in this room were cold-blooded killers. The thought was unsettling. Nerve-wracking. Yet, she really, really wanted to catch the murderous bastards.

The women were meticulously made up, and she was relieved that she’d taken more time to apply some cosmetics of her own. Yet she knew she wasn’t one of them, no matter how much she looked the part. Of course, she didn’t think the other women had a semi-automatic pistol shoved into their left boot. Despite the light, compact state of the weapon, it still felt like something heavy weighed her down. She was conscious of it, with every step, every movement, hoping it wouldn’t fall out, hoping it wouldn’t be detected. Hoping the damn thing wouldn’t go off. Ryan had assured her it wouldn’t.

The men gave the impression of casual relaxation that looked to have taken a lot of effort and expense to achieve. Except for Ryan.

It wasn’t fair. He could shower and shave and be dressed with a casual ease in under fifteen minutes, yet still look amazing and...hot. Gorgeous. Thank God Jessica had picked out a stylish wardrobe for them. Both she and Ryan fit in perfectly with the rest of the guests.

Of course, Ryan didn’t seem to notice what she was wearing. She thought she looked good. He’d looked her up and down in the room and nodded. As though she’d passed muster, and that was it. He looked gorgeous, she’d had to wipe the drool from her chin, and she—well, apparently she’d do. She bit back the sigh and glanced around the room.
Forget Ryan
,
and focus on catching killers.

Each couple sat on a comfortable two-seater sofa, strategically arranged in a circle. Ryan’s shoulder and thigh branded her side. He was a big guy, and the sofas were...cozy.

Gavin and Neil entered the lounge, and Neil greeted them with a smile.

“Good morning, folks. Thanks for being on time.”

Both counselors took the last two seats, individual wing-backed chairs that seemed to envelop the men.

Vicky glanced around. The room was gorgeously appointed, and she made a mental note to tell Jessica all about it. The woman had handed the running of her deceased aunt’s interior design business over to an external director, but Jessica still had an interest in the field, and had a newly discovered knack with interior design.

With a golden patterned carpet, blue and terracotta accents, and brass and dark walnut finishes, the room had a relaxed yet luxurious air about it.

Ryan nudged her in the ribs, and she dragged her gaze from a brass wall sconce back to the therapists. Gavin was talking.

“...and everything we discuss here is entirely confidential. You all signed the contract to participate, and are aware of the penalties of sharing any information outside of the group. We do this so that, as our guests, you can be assured that your conversations remain private, and you can feel comfortable in sharing intimate information. What is said in the group, stays in the group.” He gestured to his colleague.

But not whatever you talk about in the privacy of your room
. Vicky wondered if there were any bugs planted in this room.

“So, why are you all here?” Neil asked. He clasped his hands together. “You’ve all probably got different ideas about what life coaching and power management are. Here at Ultima we look at improving your relationships, your career, your lifestyle, by working on the way you communicate with each other and in general, as well as problem solving and dealing with conflict. Gavin?”

Ryan muttered something under his breath, but Vicky ignored him.

“This week is all about you,” Gavin said, and she could see that although they needed to prompt each other, they both communicated well together. “We look at the impact you have on your relationship, and how you can turn conflict into cooperation. Motivate yourself, and you motivate others.”

He opened the folder in his lap and started to pass around sheets of paper. “We have your Client Background Forms that you all completed prior to this week, and they’ve given both Neil and myself some insight into your history and experiences, and some of the issues you face in your relationships.”

Uh-oh
. She probably should have finished reading the file Mal had given her. Her mouth went dry, and she felt like she’d been pulled into the principal’s office for not doing homework.

“But that’s for later,” Neil said, with a kind smile on his face.

Phew
.

“Right now, we’ll start with some fun things to break the ice.”

Ryan snorted, and Vicky nudged him without looking at him.

“Here is a list of questions you need to answer,” Gavin said, handing out sheets of paper and pens. “You’ll need to get up, roam around and ask questions to find these answers. You have five minutes.”

Vicky skimmed the questions.
How many women have brown eyes?
What is the weirdest thing anybody has eaten?
And that was just two of them.

“This is going to be hell,” Ryan muttered, and Vicky hid her smile as they stood and started to mingle with the other couples.

It actually took them about ten minutes to answer the questions, but Vicky couldn’t help her sigh of relief when Neil called to them to take their seats. She’d felt like a gauche prom reject, trying to start conversation, but all the time she kept thinking “
are you a killer?
”, which had an inhibiting effect on her conversation.

She’d learned that Paula had once eaten a dead snail that had been inside a lettuce leaf in one of her salads. It had turned the woman off lettuce for life. Unfortunately, while the exercise had been a great icebreaker, it still hadn’t given her a clue as to which couple were really Simon and Jade Maxwell. The weight of that task, of finding the killers, seemed to bear down on her gut, heavy and uncomfortable.

Please
,
don’t let me screw this up
. She smiled faintly at Jennifer, who just glared back at her. She used to be a covert courier, blithely lying her way past border control with a quick chat and a smile to a customs official. Nothing that required sustained and repeat interaction, like perpetuating a cover with the same people over several days.

“Okay, so what did we learn?” Neil asked.

That discussion took another fifteen minutes of chuckles, groans and laughter. Vicky gritted her teeth and joined in, trying to give the impression she was enjoying the experience as much as everyone else seemed to be. Gavin nodded eventually.

“Good start, folks. So we’ve just shared some interesting information. This time, taking turns, I want each of you to tell the group about the first time you met your partner, and what was so special about it.”

Vicky tried to keep the smile on her face as she shot Ryan a glare. She knew they should have got their stories straight. Ryan winked at her and turned back to the group
.
Easy for Mr.
Pants-On-Fire Liar here.

“Let’s start with you, Jeffrey. Tell us about meeting Margie,” Neil suggested.

Jeffrey blinked and turned to his wife, who gazed at him expectantly. “Uh, well, we met at college.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What do you remember of that first moment?”

Jeffrey frowned. “Well, I can’t remember what she was wearing, if that’s what you’re after.”

“That’s okay. Where did you first see her?”

“In the library.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was at a party,” Margie interjected coolly.

“No. The first time I saw you was at the library.”

“No, dear, it was at a party.” Margie’s smile was brittle.

“Actually,
dear
,” her husband responded, stressing the endearment, “it was at the library that I first saw you. I introduced myself to you at the party.” Jeffrey spoke through his teeth.

Margie frowned. “Really? I don’t remember seeing you at the library until after we met.”

Jeffrey nodded. “I know. I saw you at the library, and you looked so pretty, concentrating so hard on whatever it was you were reading. I asked my buddy to invite you to his party so I could work up the courage to talk to you.”

Margie stared at him, her mouth open slightly. “You never mentioned this to me before.”

Jeffrey shrugged. “It’s never come up in conversation.”

“What kind of impression did Margie make on you? It must have been something for you to have your friend invite her to a party.”

Vicky watched as Jeffrey ducked his head.

“She was dressed like a lady. Oh, I’m not saying she was prim and proper, but she just looked...lovely. She had this air of confidence about her that a lot of the other girls at college didn’t, like she knew what she wanted, and what she had to do to get it.”

Neil nodded and smiled. “Thanks for sharing, Jeffrey.”

Gavin shifted in his seat. “Cassie. Why don’t you share your story next?”

Vicky was still looking at Margie, who was gazing at her husband as if he were a stranger. She startled when Ryan’s elbow dug in her ribs.

“What?”

“It’s your turn,” Ryan murmured.

She shot a glance at him, and he gave her an encouraging nod. She took a deep breath.
Ugh
. She battled the instinct to puke from nervousness.

“Uh, so, how did we meet? Well, we met at a client meeting.” Well, a staff meeting, actually. “I had to organize an event for one of my clients, which turned out to be one of his...partners.” Reese had needed to get into Cuba under cover of darkness to locate a missing scientist.

“Peter sat in on the client briefing.” Ryan had brooded at the end of the table.

“There was just something about him, you know? He was so nice to me, during that first meeting.” The smile she aimed at him was saccharine sweet. He’d argued with every suggestion she’d made.

“And then he asked me out.” He’d told her to go to hell when she’d argued right back. She shrugged and turned back to the group. “And the rest is history.”

“What did you think of him, the moment you saw him?” Neil asked.

“I thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.” Actually, that was the truth. Warmth crept into her cheeks. “In a roomful of men, he was the only one I noticed.”

Deborah sighed, and smiled brightly.

“And what do you remember, Peter?” Gavin asked, eyeing Ryan.

Ryan slid his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into his side. She relaxed, smiling shyly at the group while she waited to hear Mr. Pants-On-Fire Liar do his stuff.

“Oh, well, that’s when everything changed, for me. You know, she made me laugh in that meeting, and I knew I was a goner. She really listened to me and when she talked, she made me laugh.”

Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten the part where he’d laughed in her face when she’d suggested flying into Havana with fake identities and passports. He’d stopped laughing when she’d told him where to shove his fake passport.

Ryan wagged his finger at the group. “She made me laugh. That’s when I fell in love with her, that very first meeting.”

Oh
,
that might be laying it on a bit thick.

“That sounds quite...romantic,” Gavin said. “It makes me wonder why you think you need couple’s therapy and life coaching.”

“She cheats,” Ryan said immediately.

Vicky’s jaw dropped. “I do not!”

“What about that guy a couple of months ago, hmm? The one who asked you over for dinner?”

Vicky rolled her eyes. “That dinner didn’t actually get past the main course. I can’t believe you brought that up.” She hadn’t realized he knew of that night.
Oh
,
how humiliating
. Drew must have told him. Damn that gossiping blabbermouth.

Neil frowned. “So you admit you were seeing someone?”

“I wouldn’t actually call it seeing. It was one dinner. Once.”

Margie frowned. “What happened?”

Now her cheeks were hot. “Uh, it didn’t work out.” She could feel Ryan shaking next to her, as though he was secretly laughing.
Jerk
.

“Why not?” This time it was Elliot who asked.

Oh, gosh, did she really have to do this? She shot a dark look at Ryan. “Because he asked his mother to come downstairs and help him cook.”

“He still lived with his mother?” Hank barked with laughter.

“But, you went out with him,” Deborah said. “On a date. That’s cheating on your husband.”

Vicky realized all members of the group were staring at her like a pariah. “Oh, wait. No, it’s not like that.” But she couldn’t tell them the truth. She pursed her lips. Ryan had neatly set her up as the “wrong” one in the relationship. “He has affairs, too, you know.”

Neil stopped writing and looked up. “Affairs? As in plural?”

“Yep.”

“Cassie,” Ryan said, smiling to the group, “we don’t need to go into this here and now.”

You started it.
“He comes back from his ‘business trips’,” Vicky said, using her fingers to parenthesize her words, “with a different woman. Every time.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too. What about that lingerie designer, Barbie?” Vicky retorted. Ryan had returned from a mission to Prague, and she’d been so looking forward to seeing him. Only he’d arrived with the attractive lingerie designer in tow.

“Her name was Barbie?” Deborah squeaked.

“Barbara,” Ryan corrected.

Whatever. “Yeah, well, don’t get all righteous with me about having one date when you’re seeing a different woman every month,” Vicky snapped.

“So, you two have agreed to have an open marriage?” Neil asked, his expression puzzled.

“I wouldn’t say we agreed to it, per se,” Vicky said slowly.

“We...live separate lives,” Ryan commented.

“But you’re here to heal your relationship?” Neil clarified.

Vicky nodded, and sensed Ryan doing the same beside her. The other members of the group exchanged shocked looks.

“O-kay,” Gavin said as he started to write furiously on his notepad. He looked up at them briefly. “I think you guys are going to need more than just four days.”