The Choice (16 page)

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from her when he’d just saved her neck, but damn sure not anger. Her eyes blazed with fury.

Beneath the fury, though, he spotted nerves. She must wonder why he’d chosen to cover for her. He could tell himself it was just the Bureau’s policy of not allowing someone to be hurt to protect his cover that motivated him.

But that would be a lie. Regardless of whether or not there could be any sort of future for them, no way could he turn her over to the mercies of a man with no conscience.

Right now, lust clouded Hafner’s normally vicious nature. He’d been on his best behavior since she’d been around because he wanted to bed her.

But it wouldn’t last.

Hafner swore ripely before conceding with a growl. “All right, Cullinane. You win.” Tones clipped, he turned away. “I’ll be dressed in a moment.” He left the room.

Relief swamped Cullinane. Then he looked at Jillian’s jutting jaw and fury took over. The raid was only days away, and his life had just become much more complicated.

If he hadn’t covered well enough to allay Hafner’s suspicions, Hafner could easily get spooked about having her around and change his plans. Years of work could go down the drain—and for what? Who was she working for? Why did she want to kill him?

None of which they could discuss right now.

“Get your things together,” he snapped. “Help me load the car.” He headed toward the door.

“Go to hell.”

Swiveling his head back to pin her with a stare, he drawled, “I believe we’ve already been there.”

The night just past shimmered in the air around them. For a long moment, memories trembled in the silence, expectant...tempting...

Forbidden.

“Five minutes, MacGregor. Don’t screw around.” He held the door open, not about to leave her alone again.

She’d have to be watched every minute between now and zero hour.

* * *

Jillian drove again, grateful to have something to occupy her thoughts besides the tempest inside her. Her stomach was a tight fist of anger she couldn’t express, confusion she didn’t dare ask questions to clear.

Inside the Explorer, silence reigned. Hafner was testy, staring out the window, furious at the change in plans.

And Cullinane simply stared at her in the rearview mirror, eyes cold as steel. 

Why had he done it? Surely he’d understood where she was headed with the Walther; why had he covered for her and not clued in Hafner? He was Hafner’s most trusted lieutenant, the man in charge of protecting his life. He was much too intelligent to miss her intentions, so why didn’t he have her bound and in custody now? Why hadn’t he explained to Hafner?

It couldn’t be sentiment because right now he looked as though he could gladly choke her himself. Beneath the stone exterior, fury was simmering.

So when would she pay the price? How would it happen? Could she escape before it did?

And how would she ever get another chance at Hafner?

Her own fury ratcheted. Damn Cullinane—why had he followed her? This was a disaster. All of her plans in ashes, her vows turned into dust. She’d failed, utterly and completely.

The weight of it sank her heart like a stone.

And fear was not far behind. What would he do to her? The waiting was the worst.

Pulling into the compound, she circled the drive and parked, out of the car in a flash. She’d hide in her room until nightfall, then she’d figure out some way to leave. Rounding the hood of the car, she almost made it, but Mary Beth was outside and spotted her.

“Jillian! Can you come see what I made?”

She heard steps behind her and darted a glance back. Cullinane, grim and intent. Hafner was headed inside.

She quickly crossed to Mary Beth and Adam. Alice glanced up and frowned. Immediately Jillian blanked her expression. Surely he wouldn’t do anything in front of the children. If she stayed here with them for a while, maybe she could get away as soon as he went inside. Silently she damned her choice of the red dress. She’d stand out like a beacon, trying to slip away from here, unless she could change clothes.

“Look, I drew a picture of Adam, Jillian, see?” The little girl’s excitement contrasted with the impatient look on her brother’s face.

Adam glanced up. “Mom, do I have to sit still any longer?” he grimaced.

“Not much longer, sweetheart.” Alice searched Jillian’s gaze. “Are you all right?”

Jillian felt it when Cullinane walked up beside her. She’d know it was him, if no other way, from the look on Adam’s face changing to awe. He, like J.T., worshipped the man.

She wondered if Alice would help her escape.

“Cullinane, look!” Mary Beth held up her drawing. “It’s Adam on his skateboard.”

She wouldn’t have been surprised to hear him growl. He was that angry with her. But to her surprise, he knelt beside the girl, his voice gentle. “I like it.”

Jillian took her chance. “Mary Beth, I have to run now. Alice, would you come inside with—”

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. In a silky, dangerous tone, he addressed her. “Oh, I’m sure you have time to look at Mary Beth’s drawing. After all, you’re not going anywhere...” His gaze was impossible to ignore, the cold steel now white-hot, his jaw flexing. “Are you?”

Alice’s forehead wrinkled.

Jillian swallowed. “I...guess not.”
Stop playing with me, Cullinane. Let’s get it over—whatever you intend.

Apparently he was in no hurry. For several minutes, they remained with the children, the surface conversation convivial and pleasant, the silent duel beneath making Jillian’s skin crawl with nerves. Alice kept glancing over at her but didn’t say anything. Finally, he excused them both and led her inside with a firm hand locked on her arm.

In the breezeway, Ron stopped him to ask questions about his car. When Cullinane reached into his pocket for his keys, she broke away, putting distance between them. 

“Solly, escort MacGregor to her quarters.” His voice rose a fraction, directed, she had no doubts, at her. “I’ll be right behind you. Wait there for me.”

Clearly an order, not a suggestion. She was trapped for now. Full daylight was hardly a propitious time to sneak out.

Once inside her room, she locked the door, tempted to shove furniture in front of it. He’d probably bring in a battering ram if she did. In his current temper, there was no telling, but she decided not to tempt fate. Straightening, she lifted her chin. She was not a child to be afraid of being disciplined. She’d meet him head-on.

Besides, she remembered, he could be watching her right now. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of cowering. Glancing around the room, she began searching for the camera locations.

* * *

Cullinane would have to deal with Hafner soon enough. It was paramount to assess his frame of mind and just how well the gamble had paid off. Climbing the stairs toward Jillian’s room, he questioned again what he’d done.

If Hafner hadn’t bought his story, not only Jillian but he himself was in danger. As he’d told her before, Hafner truly trusted no one. It had taken Cullinane a long time to work himself into a position where he was as close to trusted as anyone had ever been. But close might not be enough now.

Hafner had risen to his current stature on the backs of others. Having killed off foes and friends alike, he was always ready to suspect others of the same intentions.

Cullinane’s gamble had been risky, but he’d had no choice. The minute Hafner suspected Jillian of trying to kill him, she was dead.

And probably not quickly or mercifully. Hafner had killed no one, at least not directly, since Cullinane had been around. That didn’t mean he’d never done it; the Bureau knew otherwise. He’d just never been caught. Some of the stories were chilling. No matter if Cullinane had hated Jillian, he couldn’t condemn her to such a fate.

And he didn’t hate her, unfortunately. Life couldn’t be that simple, that clean.

But she’d lied, and she was still lying. He had to get her to tell him the truth, then he’d decide what to do with her. His options, though, were limited.

Please, Jillian, for your sake—for my sake. For the sake of any future we might ever have had...tell me the truth.

He knocked on her door. No answer. He tried the knob. It was locked.

“Jillian,” he warned, his voice low. “Don’t jack with me, not now. Open this door.”

A long pause ensued. He was reaching for the master key in his pocket when the door opened.

Another time, he would have laughed. Though he never truly knew what to expect from her, in some ways, she was utterly predictable. Redheads and temper. Whiskey eyes spit fire at him.

But the fire barely covered the nerves.

She was afraid, and he wanted nothing more at this moment than to take her in his arms and forget all that was on the line.

Instead he went on the attack. “Why were you alone with Hafner? Whose idea was it?”

“None of your business.” She gave him her back.

“It is my business, and you know it. What were you doing with your weapon out?”
Please, Jillian, talk to me. Tell me it isn’t what I think. Help me save you.

A negligent shrug. “You said it yourself. I heard a noise and was going to investigate. It’s my job, after all. I’m a bodyguard.”

He lost it. “Damn it, Jillian, stop lying to me.” He grabbed her arm and whirled her around, grasping her shoulders in his hands, desperate to impress the seriousness of the situation upon her.

Touching her was a mistake. His fingers itched to draw her nearer, his heart worn by the switch from last night’s magic to being enemies today.

“Talk to me,” he said wearily. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Her gaze remained downcast.

He shook her again, but gently. “I know you’re hiding something.”
I know you were going after Hafner.
He’d give a lot to be able to tell her he, too, wanted Hafner dead, but he didn’t dare. She was too much of a wild card.

“Look at me, Jillian.” When she refused, he gripped her more tightly, softening his voice. “Please. Talk to me. Make me understand.”

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. His heart pounded with the urgency of his need to know, with the hope that, at last, she was going to explain. For them to have any hope of a future together, he had to hear the truth from her own lips.

Caught between the powerful draw they shared and all that conspired to separate them, the poignancy of the moment suffused the very air around them—shimmering with haunting promise, pierced by stiletto-sharp agony.

And then he knew, could see it in her eyes that she would say nothing, do nothing to save them. All that could have blossomed between them was drowning in a sea of lies.

Cullinane dropped his hands and stepped back, resigned to the knowledge that from here until the end of the operation, he would have to be her jailer and she his prisoner. Instead of trying to survive this together, she was driving them further apart.

Heart-weary and drained, he walked away. When he grasped the door knob, Cullinane halted, fighting not to lean against the door in defeat.

“Don’t try to run, Jillian. You won’t make it.”

Without looking at her again, he left.

* * *

Jillian couldn’t walk the floors any longer, couldn’t continue fighting the demons in her mind. She had to act. Moving swiftly to her closet, she selected a change of clothes.

Then she switched off the light, casting the room into darkness, feeling her way back to the pile of clothing.
A little hard to see me in the dark, Cullinane?
Yet even as she dressed in comfortable dark pants and shirt, she felt a twinge of unease. She didn’t like it that he’d had her under surveillance, but she couldn’t kid herself that he hadn’t taken a risk for her today, a big one.

Why? Why would he do it? Especially after the way they’d parted this morning. Though he hadn’t voiced the words, she was almost certain that he knew exactly what she’d intended—so why hadn’t he turned her over to Hafner? What did he have planned for her now?

Was she a prisoner in her room? She’d already decided to test that, to see how far her leash would run. There had to be some way out of the compound. She wouldn’t find it, languishing in her room.

Opening the door cautiously, Jillian scanned the hall, feeling the comforting weight of her Walther at her back, hidden by the roomy shirt she left untucked. Cullinane hadn’t taken it from her yet, but he’d obviously had a lot on his mind. He’d remember it soon, so she’d have to figure out where to hide it.

But just in case she found a way to leave tonight, she wanted it with her.

No sign of Solly or anyone else. Cursing her unfamiliarity with the monitoring system to which she’d not been given access, she wondered who might be watching her now. Her best avenue was likely to appear to simply be heading to the kitchen for a snack.

The place was very quiet; she wondered where Cullinane was right now. He had the stealth of a panther; she’d better not assume he wasn’t somewhere close. He’d certainly done a good job of sneaking up behind her earlier at the fishing camp. She’d never heard a sound.

Traversing the hallway, she passed the library and heard Hafner’s voice through the slight crack of the door and stopped to listen. 

“—watch on Cullinane. He’s behaving oddly. I don’t like it. What?” He laughed harshly. “No, it’s not just that he’s standing in my way with her. There’s something else going on.” He cursed vividly. “If I knew what it was, I’d have already taken care of it. All I know is my gut tells me to pay attention. It’s what’s kept me alive this long.” Cold and impersonal, his tone belied the words that sent a shiver down her spine.

Hafner fell silent, listening.

Jillian went very still, hoping no one would interrupt and no one saw her on a monitor. But she couldn’t leave, even so; she had to hear this.

Hafner sighed. “You may be right. Perhaps he has his eye on taking over. It’s the problem with capable men, and Cullinane has certainly been that, but I’m far from ready to retire yet. I don’t like to think of losing him to an unfortunate accident on the next operation. He’ll be deuced hard to replace, but he knows too much.”