Someday Soon (9 page)

The problem now was finding out where the terrorists were holding the teenager. The best information Cain had been given had led him to a series of dead ends. Once Deliverance Company knew St. Cyr’s whereabouts, the strategy for the rescue mission could be planned. But finding the youth was proving to be highly difficult.

The boy’s parents were frantic with worry. From what Cain understood, the mother was on sedatives. Deliverance Company was doing what they could, but it seemed like damn little.

Exhausted, Cain made his way into the back bedroom. He hadn’t slept in over twenty hours. He was past sleepy, past tired. He’d reached his limit of endurance and knew it.

As he shrugged off his clothes and turned back the sheets, Cain knew with his resistance this low, he wouldn’t be able to keep thoughts of Linette out of his mind. He closed his eyes and waited for her to come.

As his head settled against the thick pillow mattress, she appeared in his mind’s eye. It took him a moment to realize she was standing on the porch outside his Montana house.

It was dusk, and she was dressed in moonbeams. Light shimmered around her, drawing his attention, causing his heart to swell with a longing so intense, it was painful.

Silently he called out to her. In slow motion she whirled around, and when she saw it was Cain, she broke into a wide smile. With wings at her heels, her arms open, she raced down the steps and rushed toward him. Her arms were as wide as her heart. As wide as the love she had to offer him.

Just before she reached him, she vanished.

Cain knew this was because he’d vowed he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Nor would he allow her to mess up his mind while he was on a mission. Too many lives depended on his having a cool head and a steady hand. The potential to hurt others with a single slip, a single lapse, was all the warning he needed.

So he dreamed of her, and even then certain restrictions applied. She would always remain out of his reach.

Fantasizing about Linette was a compromise Cain had made with himself. He’d banished all thoughts of her from his daytime activities but lowered the mental gates of his resistance at night.

She visited him often. Cain wondered if it were possible for any woman to be as beautiful as Linette was in his sleep-induced memories. He wondered if any woman could be as giving, as loving, or as charming as he remembered Linette. It didn’t seem possible.

Caught between the lure of sleep and the cold reality of this world, Cain tried to think about the nineteen-year-old boy he was attempting to find and rescue. The photo image of the youth flashed in and out of his mind, refusing to stay.

It was as if Linette had stepped forward and insisted this was her time with him. If he was going to dwell on business, then he could do it while he was awake. This time was hers, and she’d been waiting impatiently for him to join her.

Rolling onto his side, Cain gave his mind free rein to take him where it would. After a moment he found Linette in her apartment. He scanned the room until he located the cardboard star he’d made for the top of their Christmas tree. She’d placed the aluminum-covered ornament on the fireplace mantel as if it were a valuable piece of artwork.

A peace settled over Cain like a warm blanket in the coldest part of winter. A tranquillity he could give no name.

Linette hadn’t forgotten him, either. It was a fantasy,
he tried to tell himself, conscious enough to filter out what was real and what wasn’t.

He hadn’t a clue of what had become of that ridiculous-looking star he’d crafted. Why he should feel the least bit of anything to think Linette had brought it back with her was beyond his comprehension.

Nevertheless, he could feel the pressing worries of the day leave him. His shoulders relaxed, and the tight muscles in his neck slackened. All at once he was free to walk into the waiting arms of slumber.

At the knocking sound, he bolted upright out of a dead sleep. “Come in.” He wiped a hand down his face in an effort to clear his thoughts. Once asleep, he was a man who rarely dreamed. Over the course of his life, he recalled only a handful of times he’d remembered his dreams. But this night he remembered. All too well.

“It’s Jack.” The communications expert for Deliverance Company walked into the bedroom. “You asked me to come for you if there was any news.”

“Is there?”

“We think so.”

“Give me two minutes to get dressed.”

“You got it.”

Cain sat on the edge of the mattress and gathered his wits. The dream continued to plague him. Normally he would have shrugged off something like this, but this particular dream involved Linette. The details of it were as vivid as if he’d been living it. She was in a hospital waiting room, pacing and filled with nervous energy. He didn’t know whom she was there to see or what the problem was. All he’d felt was the overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and comfort her.

He needed coffee. Needed to tuck the woman who dominated his dreams back into the locked mental compartment. Needed a clear head in order to deal with the problem of rescuing Louis St. Cyr. Before it was too late, if it wasn’t already.

“Morning,” Murphy said when Cain appeared.

“What have you got?”

“Good news,” Murphy said, grinning widely. “We’ve located the house outside of Paris where they’re keeping the kid.”

“And the bad news?” There was always the alternative to go along with anything positive.

“It’s going to be a bitch to get him out.”

“So what’s new?” Rescues rarely came easy, no matter how well planned.

“His captors are a group of fanatics with plenty of sympathizers holed up with them. They’re armed to the teeth, and would welcome any excuse to kill the kid.”

“Sounds like just the sort of mission we specialize in,” Cain said with a grin, and slapped Murphy across the back. “Call Bailey and Stan. We’ve got work to do. While you’re at it, get us the first available flight to Paris.”

Already Cain could feel the adrenaline pumping. Deliverance Company was about to do what they did best. If good luck and the fates were with them, there was a chance they could save this poor kid’s ass.

Francine knew Tim was well
past the point of being tired, and still he pushed himself. He insisted they stay in the pool and go through the series of exercises one last time, driving himself, and her, to the brink of exhaustion.

Francine had been ready to get out of the swimming pool forty minutes earlier.

“Enough,” she insisted. “If you work too hard, you’ll damage the muscles.” For a moment she feared Tim was going to ignore her.

His shoulders heaved with the effort of his exertion. He swam to the far end of the pool, nodded and lowered his head as he caught his breath.

“I’ll call for Greg,” she said, ready to walk up the steps and out of the pale blue water.

“No.” Tim reached for her arms and stopped her. He was sitting on the third step from the top, the water lapping about his shoulders. “Not yet.”

“But you’re exhausted.”

“I know. I won’t do any more exercises today. Just stay with me a couple of minutes until I get my wind back.”

“All right.” She sat on the step beside him. They’d been working for most of the afternoon. The progress her patient had made in the past two weeks astonished her.

She hadn’t thought it possible for a man to make such a complete turnaround in attitude. Francine had the impression Tim still didn’t like her, still didn’t want her around. He tolerated her company, but most important, he respected her and acknowledged that it was through her efforts he would walk again.

If there was one thing she’d accomplished with Tim Mallory, it had been hope. Somehow she’d managed to get it through that thick skull of his that he would walk again.

When she arrived first thing in the morning, he generally acknowledged her cheerful greeting with a grunt. It didn’t trouble her. A grunt was worth a thousand demands that she leave him alone.

Francine knew the workouts in the pool were the ones that drained her patient the most. But his energy level increased daily. His progress was nothing sort of phenomenal. The fact that he was taking an active role in his recovery thrilled her and gave her more hope than the physical improvements she witnessed.

“Are you ready yet?” she asked.

“No,” he said gruffly. He looked away from her. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.” His voice wasn’t any less brusque, but Francine could tell that he wasn’t angry. If anything, she read a certain hesitancy in him.

“Yes?”

“I’m not much good at this sort of thing.” He paused and cleared his throat.

Francine wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Not good at this?”

“Apologies,” he muttered thickly.

“You don’t owe me an apology.”

“The hell I don’t,” he said, and raked a hand through his thick wet hair. “I said some nasty things to you when we first started working together. Things I regret now. I want you to know I didn’t mean what I said about you being unattractive.”

The room went quiet. Even the water in the pool seemed to go still. A tightness gripped Francine’s throat. “It doesn’t matter. It’s long forgotten.” She attempted to stand, but he took hold of her arm.

“There’s more.” His curt tone was back.

“More?” Francine looked away, not wanting to see his expression or have him read hers. This discussion embarrassed her acutely. Tim hadn’t insulted her with anything she didn’t already know. Her body wasn’t going to be mistaken for that of a model. Nor had she been graced in the looks department. Her features were too blunt for that. Too round. She was large boned, and she’d learned long before that men liked their women small and delicate. The fact that she could bench press more weight than most men wasn’t something a fragile male ego could handle.

Tim’s hand caught her by the chin, and he turned her face toward his. His deep, dark eyes met hers. “I was wrong about you from the first. You’re really quite lovely.”

She was about to tell him it was time they left, when he kissed her. The action stunned her so much that the words were trapped in her throat, forever lost.

The kiss was gentle, a delicate pressing of his mouth over hers. Francine wouldn’t have guessed that Tim was capable of such tenderness. She trembled and raised her hands to his bare chest in order to shove him away and tell him how inappropriate it was for them to be doing this.

Not only was it inappropriate, it was wrong. The cardinal rule with a therapist was never to become romantically involved with a patient. But he caught her hands in his and continued, and soon she was fully involved in the kiss herself.

After a moment, he drew back. Francine lowered her gaze, but she could feel him study her. He seemed as surprised by what he’d done as she was.

Neither spoke. Francine didn’t know what to say, and she strongly suspected Tim was fast thinking of an excuse. Something that would assure them both that it had been a fluke, not to be repeated or mentioned hereafter.

His eyes lingered on her face, until she was certain her cheeks were red enough to be mistaken for cooked lobster.

“You’re an incredible woman.” His voice was as rough as moonshine.

Francine knew she had to escape before she found herself believing what he said. She swallowed, and her heart, her silly, romantic heart, seemed to stick in her throat. What she needed now was some witty comment that would lighten the mood and remind them that what
they were doing would only lead to problems. Instead her throat felt as if it had been stuffed with a whole apple and her eyes were filled with tears.

He wiped the moisture from her cheek, and before she could object, he kissed her again. This time it was much different. Much better. Much deeper. Much more intense.

He parted her lips with his tongue and penetrated her mouth. Francine moaned and trembled. She was afraid, almost desperately so, but not because Tim frightened her. Never that. He tempted her, and she couldn’t give in to that fascination.

He deepened the kiss and sent his tongue in search of hers. She moved her own forward hesitantly until it touched his, then swiftly withdrew it in a panic. A moment later he sought her out again, and she allowed him to find her for another shy taste.

By the time he broke off the kiss, Francine’s heart thundered in her ears. Her eyes remained closed and her head fell forward. She’d been kissed, but never quite like this.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week,” Tim whispered, smoothing the hair from her face.

“I should go.”

“No,” he said roughly, insistently. “Not now. We’ve only gotten started.”

She lifted her questioning eyes to his. “What do you mean?”

“Mean?” He laughed lightly and kissed her gently. “What else could I mean? I’m dying to make love to you, woman. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. It’s been downright embarrassing.”

“What?” It was all Francine could do not to leap out of the water right then. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought of him in those terms. Nor would she.

“Come on, sweetheart, there isn’t any reason to play coy with me. It isn’t necessary. We’re both adults, and I want you, and if the way you kissed me back is any indication, you’re just as hot for me.”

She stared at him as if he were speaking in a foreign language.

“I’ve been a long time without a woman, so the first few bouts are going to be hot and fast. Just be patient and I promise to make it up to you later.”

Francine was struck dumb. She glared at him and blinked several times before she found the strength to pull herself free of his embrace. Although her knees were weak, she managed to step out of the water.

“Is something wrong?” Tim asked.

She reached for her towel and wiped the moisture from her face. “I don’t know what led you to think I’d be willing to share a bed with you, Tim Mallory, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

Her refusal must have come as something of a shock, because he looked at her as if he were sure he hadn’t heard her right. “The hell you aren’t,” he said after an awkward moment.

“When I go to bed with a man, it’ll be for reasons other than the ones you gave me. You want a body to relieve your physical frustration. Any woman would do. Any body. I just happen to be convenient.”

“You’re as hot for me as I am for you.”

Francine didn’t have an answer to that because she
feared it was true. “Look at me, Tim,” she said, “really look. Do you think that because I’m not svelte and beautiful that I’d be willing to settle for anything less than a man who loves me?”

His gaze narrowed suspiciously, and then he groaned and wiped a hand down his face. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” He muttered several curses as if her lack of experience were some great detriment. Some great deficiency on her part.

Francine pressed her lips together firmly. Hell would freeze over before she gave him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt her.

“I’ll send for Greg,” she said on her way out.

Linette stepped into the foyer of her apartment building and unlocked her mail slot. She anxiously sorted through the envelopes. She hadn’t heard from Cain, and although she repeatedly told herself it didn’t matter, it did.

She was beginning to believe he’d meant what he said. That he wouldn’t be seeing her again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself believe what they’d shared hadn’t been something very special. He was special.

Cain had gifted her with the precious promise of the future. Until they’d met, she hadn’t been able to look beyond a single day. She had no dreams. Cain had proven that in the two years since she’d lost Michael, she hadn’t lost her heart. She could feel again. Could respond to a man’s touch.

Apparently she had been nothing more than a passing fancy to him.

Linette let herself into the apartment, tossed the mail onto the kitchen counter, and slipped out of her pumps. She was about to survey her cupboard for dinner ideas when the doorbell chimed. A quick check in the peephole revealed her sister-in-law.

“Nancy,” Linette said happily, unlocking the door. “This is a pleasant surprise. Come in.” She’d meant to call Nancy all week, but with one thing or another, she hadn’t gotten around to it. If the truth be known, she had delayed putting off the call for fear Nancy would ask her about Cain. And she just wasn’t sure what to say.

“How are you feeling?” Linette asked.

Nancy peeled off her coat and collapsed onto the overstuffed sofa. She tucked her feet beneath her and settled in as if she meant to stay a good long while. “Dreadful. I’ve spent the last week with my head poised above the toilet.”

“Flu?”

Nancy shook her head. “Morning sickness.”

“Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

Linette sank onto the chair opposite her sister-in-law. “I’ve been meaning to call all week. I had dinner with your parents on New Year’s.”

Nancy’s gaze shifted away from Linette. “They aren’t happy with me just now.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I’m afraid they aren’t exactly overjoyed with me, either. As you’re probably aware, they didn’t think it was a good idea for me to spend Christmas with Cain.”

Nancy flattened her hand against her chest. “I was
responsible for the two of you meeting, and my parents…well, mostly it was Mom, seemed to think I’d dishonored Michael’s memory by introducing you to Cain.”

“So I heard. I didn’t realize what was happening with Mom and Dad,” Linette said softly. “I knew that they found dealing with Michael’s death difficult, and they were more comfortable ignoring the fact he’d died. But it’s gone beyond that now.”

“I’ve been tempted to say something to you for more than a year now,” Nancy murmured, “but it’s difficult, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin our relationship, especially when the one with my parents was becoming more and more strained.”

“They don’t want me to date. I didn’t realize that or the reason why until I met Cain. They feel threatened and afraid. I can understand that, but at the same time I can’t live my life in order to please them.”

Nancy looked worried. “You’re seeing Cain, then? You never said anything about him when you returned from Montana, and I didn’t want to pry.”

Linette clenched her hands together, wanting to disguise her disappointment and not sure if she could. “I haven’t heard from him.”

Her sister-in-law released a heavy sigh. Her shoulders sagged, and she closed her eyes momentarily. “That might be for the best. You don’t know how concerned I’ve been. I’ve been so afraid you would fall for him.”

Linette didn’t understand. It was Nancy who’d worked so hard playing the role of matchmaker, eager to introduce her to Cain. As it happened, they’d met on their own. “You’d rather I didn’t see Cain again? But why?”

Linette shifted positions, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Rob and I were talking last night, and I was saying how disappointed I was that you hadn’t called and told me how everything went over Christmas. I made some pithy comment about how nice it would be if the two of you fell in love. Then I said something along the lines that it might be difficult for the two of you, being that Cain’s in the military and all. Long-distance relationships can be tricky.”

“I think you might be right.” Having Cain in the military certainly hadn’t helped matters thus far. Linette was left hanging, waiting to hear from him. At the same time she wasn’t sure he would contact her.

“I was afraid something like this was going to happen,” Nancy said, breaking into her thoughts.

“You don’t like Cain?” Linette didn’t understand.

“I don’t know him well enough to like or dislike him. But after what Rob told me, I regret ever suggesting the two of you meet.”

“What Rob told you?”

“Yes, last night out of the blue, my dear husband drops this bombshell. Cain isn’t in the military. He’s—”

“Of course he is,” Linette interrupted. “He was called away on a mission early Christmas morning. He didn’t want to leave any more than I wanted to see him go.”

Nancy’s features tightened. “Rob told me Cain McClellan is a mercenary. Rob assumed I knew, and I told him I didn’t and that I didn’t think you did, either. He suggested we get together and talk.”