To Deceive Is To Love (Romantic suspense) (2 page)

In the end he shouted, “Okay, you win. I’ll hold onto your legs and lower you down.”

Slowly he began to do this, each leg tucked securely under his armpit as he leaned forward. Finally, she got her arms securely around Chat and shouted back to David to pull her in. Chat hissed and spit as David’s hands moved up to grip her around her narrow waist.

“Hurry up.
You taking
a nap or something?”

With one heave, he brought her back in, the force knocking him off balance and back onto the floor. Chantelle landed on top of him with Chat.

With a wiggle and a screech of indignation, the cat darted from the room. The hysterical relieved laughter from Chantelle caused David to join in. His arms were still around her waist and when they finally stopped laughing, she turned her body around so she lay directly on top of him, her hands supporting her on either side of his face. Their laughter-filled eyes locked. His hand came up and gently brushed back a lock of russet hair that clung to her lips, then went to the back of her neck and brought her lips down to meet his.

It was an exquisite feeling, his mouth moving over hers, gently at first and then more demandingly, his tongue slipping between her teeth demanding more and more from her. Their bodies rolled over so that now he was above her, his forearms supporting his weight.

Paul called out, “Chantelle are you all right up there?”

David immediately broke away, releasing her and scrambling to his feet.

Chantelle did the same, a warm flush spreading across her cheeks as she quickly straightened her clothing. “Yes, Paul, we’re fine and so is Chat.” She looked at David and smiled shyly. “I didn’t introduce you. Paul lives downstairs, but then you must have guessed that.”

“Maybe we better go down.”

At the bottom of the spiral staircase, he was properly introduced to Paul but merely nodded a curt response as he walked past and headed for the door.

“David, wait a minute.” She walked out the door with him into the hallway beyond Paul’s hearing. “About what happened, you know” -- she raised her eyebrows and gave a silly grin -- “I’m not usually like that.” She bit into her lower lip, embarrassment creeping over her like a tidal wave. What had happened back in her bedroom was as big a shock to her as it was to him -- or at least she hoped it was and he wasn’t some kind of serial seducer.

David seemed to be having the same problem in dealing with what had transpired or simply viewed her as some man-hungry crazy woman, either way; it was obvious he wanted to depart pretty quickly.

“Look, I’m glad your cat is safe and all that, but I’ve got to get going.” The words were cutting. He avoided her eyes and without looking back, he disappeared down the stairs, out the entrance door and into his car, the tires screeching as he sped away.

Chantelle closed her door and looked at Paul. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave a small sigh. “I meet a man who I know absolutely nothing about and do something completely out of character by allowing myself to fancy him like crazy. For all I know, his sudden departure could be because he has a wife and children.” Picking up Chat, she gave him a big hug, and was rewarded by loud purring.

“You’re right about him being a hunk - as for the wife and kids, he doesn’t look the type.”

“Paul, what would you know? Just because he doesn’t wear a wedding band…” Another worrying thought entered Chantelle’s mind. Someone that good looking would have a reason for not being married. Either way, she was going to be the loser here.

“He looks dangerous. Maybe that’s the attraction, Chantelle. Often the more you know about someone, the less you like them.”

Throwing Paul an exasperated look, she went into the kitchen and dialed her mother’s number in France to let her know she had arrived home safely. Despite being twenty-five and used to independence from an early age, she still found herself missing her mother at times like this. Her advice was always that no man was ever worth the heartache. And her mother should know.

****

Speeding down the motorway, David glanced in his rearview mirror, only to catch sight of the canvas bag still laid across his back seat where Chantelle had thrown it. Hurrying to save her cat had meant she had forgotten all about her luggage. He couldn’t face turning the car around, especially with the way he had acted, so instead he pulled over onto the hard shoulder. Luckily, an old luggage tag was still attached to one of the straps of the bag. It had a London phone number. He waited for a connection.

When Chantelle answered, her voice seemed to pick up at the sound of his voice. “Hello, David, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, well not after…”

He cut in. “Listen, Chantelle, I’m ringing because you left your bag behind in my car and as I told you, I’ve got to be somewhere. How about I leave it with Danny unless there’s something you need in it desperately for today?” He knew he sounded cool and offhand, but he hadn’t expected a kiss to have such a powerful impact on his senses. If they hadn’t been interrupted, things could have really gotten out of hand and messy afterward, since she was a friend of Danny’s.

“Are you married, David?”

The question took him by surprise. “No,” he finally replied, unsure what came next.

“Well then, catch our display down at Manston air show this weekend. You can hand it over to me in person.” The line went dead.

David stood for a moment staring at the phone. Perhaps she knew him better than he knew himself. He was interested even before the kiss; there was no denying it. He had first viewed her from the window facing the landing strip in Tony’s office. Watching the Cessna land and park up near all the other privately owned light aircrafts, he had enjoyed even better the vision emerging from it.

She’d been dressed in slim fitting jeans and a black vest top; a jumper secured by the arms around her shoulders hung down her back. She had stretched, the curves of her body emphasized. Then she’d bent down to touch her toes, making him take a sharp intake of breath. Shoulder-length hair, the copper strands shimmering in the sunlight, and the confident air in which she walked across the airfield added to the attraction.

When he’d walked out the building half an hour later and seen her with Danny, he’d been even more curious. She didn’t look Danny’s type, too mature if only by a few years, classic features and oval-shaped emerald green eyes, which shone when angry, her temper matching what they said about redheads. Still, his brother obviously deserved it and now he knew there was nothing between Danny and her, what was stopping him? The fact that he had enough complications in his life without adding to them, which was why he had been trying to lose himself by staring out of the window in the first place.

“You’re going to do one last mission for them, aren’t you?” Tony had pulled him away from the window, not hiding his anger and frustration. “Where is it this time, some war zone where no other bugger wants to go?”

David understood where his friend was coming from; he had the same self-doubts, wondering who he could and couldn’t trust within British Intelligence or more importantly the C.T.A.U. Considering the Counter Terrorist Arms Unit was meant to be so secretive that they didn’t even know who their agents were, someone big was providing the leak.

“You know I can’t disclose that. Anyway, I haven’t made my mind up yet.” He’d shrugged Tony off and raised his mug of coffee in mock salute and downed the remaining liquid, wishing it was something stronger. Merely talking about it brought forth a vile taste in his mouth.

“What are they offering you? Whatever it is, it isn’t enough, you know it and I know it. Or have you simply lost your mind?”

“Maybe.”

Tony had stared back at him and shook his head in confusion.

Some memories never went away. They haunted you until you felt you were going mad, but how could he explain that to Tony? The one that haunted him was supposed to have been a simple pick-up. He was going to fly in low under the cover of darkness to avoid radar, the location miles from civilization, his only navigation from memorizing a few landmarks plotted out on a hand-drawn map. No country ever owned up to employing people like him; they were expendable. It was a risk he was prepared to take.

He had flown in knowing the man’s cover had been blown. There had been bullets flying everywhere, machine guns kicking up the dust as he tried to position the plane in the line of fire. He had taken a bullet in the shoulder trying to provide cover and watched in vain as his efforts were wasted. The man he’d been sent to rescue took a direct hit as he opened the passenger door to help him in. That face of pain and terror had never left him. It was a miracle he had gotten out of there alive, the plane only just managing to limp across the border. His conscience was what kept him awake at night, the fact he had survived.

His thoughts returned to Chantelle Duvall and the problem she had left him with. Getting back into his car, he glanced back at the canvas bag. With a sigh, he started up the engine. “What have I done?” he found himself saying out loud.

David stood by his light aircraft watching the cars pile into the roped-off area of the airfield. It was a weekend in August with clear blue skies, so the event had drawn the masses in. The pass he had acquired through Tony’s contacts allowed him into the private fenced-off area on the other side of the airstrip where private planes and some of the participating aircrafts were parked.
A perfect vantage spot to watch the whole air display without being part of the crowd.

He felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned around, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you doing here?” David spoke in a low, harsh tone, motioning for the man to follow until they stood alone, their presence concealed by the cockpit of his plane.

“We need to talk and it has become urgent. You left me no choice but to track you down. You don’t pick up your messages.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been pretty busy of late.” He was lying. The truth was he had been deliberately ignoring the coded messages left on his answering machine. After his discussion with Tony, he had been seriously thinking of leaving England for good. Tony was right; maybe it was time he turned his back on the business of treachery and deceit. “How did you know I would be here?”

“Does it matter?”

David returned a cool, suspicious glare. There had been a time when he thought Hendersson was one of the few men he could trust besides Tony. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t look much of a threat in his Saville Row suits tailored to fit his bulky frame. Middle-aged with silvery hair and a pitted complexion, one could easily be deceived until you caught the look within his eyes. They reminded David of a crow: small, beady and vicious.

Hendersson had been recruited straight from Cambridge with several degrees and had been government-employed ever since. David knew he was no pen-pusher, having been a field agent like himself for many years before becoming a controller. His reputation was that he could be both persuasive and manipulative, the ruthlessness carefully disguised. Someone you couldn’t shrug off lightly.

Removing a packet of Dunhill cigarettes from his jacket pocket, Hendersson offered David one.

“No, I quit. In fact I’ve given up quite a few bad habits.” He stayed wary.

“Don’t say you’ve found religion,” Hendersson replied dryly.

“I wouldn’t say I’ve gone that far, but as I’ve told you in the past, my only loyalty is to myself. After the last fiasco, I don’t trust the people you do business with.”

Hendersson’s yellow-stained fingers held the cigarette to his lips as he flicked the top of a gold lighter with his other hand and lit the end. Taking a long, slow draw, he waited and then blew the smoke out in one thin trail.

David side-stepped the smoke, the smell enough to cause distaste, making him wonder how he could have filled his lungs up for fifteen years with the disgusting substance.

“We know the mole; we simply need you to expose him. Our information is that an Algerian terrorist outfit is ready to purchase
a large arms
shipment from a private dealer any day now.” Keeping his voice low, his beady eyes alert for anyone approaching or in earshot, he continued, “A name has come up; an official we already have under suspicion. He will be arranging the necessary forged documentation for the weaponry to no longer exist as part of the company’s arsenal. Getting it out of the country is where you come in. An agent who has infiltrated the terrorists will put them in touch with you. Your cover is as a mercenary with his own cargo plane who knows how to get in and out of Algeria undetected. ”

“Yeah and what if they’ve already been warned about me? I mean, does this so-called official know the name of the pilot sent to some godforsaken place who came home with a dead body and a bullet hole in his shoulder blade as a reminder?” David didn’t disguise his bitterness; it was with him every day and he wanted Hendersson to feel it.

“All that’s known is the date and location. And as far as that mission went, the pilot never made it across the border. Even the chief doesn’t know names of agents and with this, you deal only with me. No contact with anyone in the C.T.A.U., MI5, MI6.” He smirked. “Not even the prime minister. That way, there won’t be any more leaks.” Hendersson drew again on his cigarette.

“Give me the name and there won’t be any problem as far as leaks are concerned.” David’s voice was savage, his intention clear.

Hendersson shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. We need him alive. We need to know just how deep the rot goes and how long it’s been going on. This way he sings and don’t worry, his life is finished the moment he has nothing left to say. You should know nothing is personal in this business.”

“And the money?”

Hendersson allowed a small smile. “The offer remains the same: fifty thousand, fifteen up front, the rest on completion. He was a good agent we lost; this is your chance to get even.”

Hendersson knew him too well; first the money and then the inducement, knowing full well his ethics didn’t allow for betrayal of any kind. “You have my bank account number. We don’t talk again until I see a deposit.”

The low buzz of a biplane caused David’s eyes to glance casually in the direction it was coming from as it began to descend towards them. He immediately locked onto the passenger behind the pilot. Reaching for his binoculars, he focused them on the woman’s partly obscured face. Those full lips smiling her pleasure confirmed who she was.

“Are you all right?
Friend or foe?”
Hendersson held his hand up to shelter his eyes from the sun as he tried to see the object of David’s sudden interest.

.David wasn’t listening as he questioned once again what the hell he was doing here. Returning her damn bag, that was all, but he could so easily have gotten it to her by other means without them ever having to meet up again. Something about this one both intrigued and worried him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and that was scary. Not to mention bad timing since he couldn’t afford to have any distractions.

Bringing his binoculars down to his chest, he was surprised to see Hendersson still standing there. “I thought our conversation was over.” David tried to hide his discomfort. It was evident Hendersson was curious, by the way he was still watching the plane as it landed.

Obviously C.T.A.U. was aware he had a brother, since they made it their business to know such facts. They would also be aware that it wasn’t a close relationship, far from it. The age gap of ten years, him joining the air force as soon as he was old enough and the fact that he hadn’t spoken or had any contact with his mother since his father’s death was no secret. Personal information, which could do no harm and in a way protect, he allowed to filter out to any interested parties. Hopefully his personal file read: subject has no family loyalties.

“Your brother has obviously picked up the family traits, a daredevil lifestyle and sexy women,” Hendersson said dryly as he lit another one of his cigarettes.

Danny was now in full view, wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts, combat shorts and hair reaching his shoulder blades. He could be picked out from a crowd a mile off. Next to him stood Chantelle, the recognizable strands of rich russet hair now pulled tightly into a ponytail. It was what she was wearing that caused him to stare in amazement and what had probably brought about Hendersson’s comment. She was dressed from neck to ankles in a black leather catsuit molded to her body like a second skin. It left nothing to the imagination and offered plenty.

“You obviously have your mind on other things today, so like I said
,
we’ll talk in a couple of days. Just don’t ignore your messages this time.”

David wanted to play down whatever Hendersson thought might be going on here, only he couldn’t think of anything except to reply sharply, “When I see the money, we’ll talk. Now, if you don’t mind I came down here today to enjoy the display.” Reaching into the cockpit of his plane, he pulled out Chantelle’s canvas bag and marched off toward the biplane.

“I believe this belongs to you.” He dropped the bag at Chantelle’s feet.

Obviously he had taken them both by surprise, a scowl immediately forming on Danny’s face when Chantelle turned away from him and smiled brightly at David.

“You came, and in time to see our display.”

The way her emerald eyes shone and the pleasure in her face made it obvious she was reading far too much into his presence. One kiss and she was coming on to him big time, which was flattering and an interesting proposition. What stopped him was the way Danny’s scowl turned to a look of jealousy. Either his brother had the hots for her and wasn’t receiving the right signals back or Chantelle simply loved to flirt and was doing it with both Bishop
brothers
. Whatever the case, he had enough problems going on between Danny and himself without adding to them.

“Sorry I won’t be around that long.” He made his voice dismissive, his eyes avoiding hers.

“You came all this way to return my bag and can’t even spare the time to watch the show?” she asked, staring at him in confusion.

“I find this sort of event pretty boring and no, I didn’t come here today just to return your stuff. I had a free pass and plan to catch up with some old buddies of mine.” He had hurt her pride, he could see by the way her face clouded over, her eyes lowered to the ground.

Reaching down, she grabbed the canvas bag and secured it over her shoulder, her back now to him as if he was invisible.

“Nice one, brother,” Danny said sarcastically. “You better run along and meet up with those old buddies of yours. It surprises me you still have any left.” He motioned with his eyes to where a group of uniformed air force men stood. “I can’t see you joining that little group and reminiscing.”

David followed Danny’s line of vision. The returning glare from the two oldest RAF pilots was far from friendly. He couldn’t blame them; they had trained and gone on to fly several missions with him, even stuck by him at his court martial.
When the rumors began circulating about him in order to establish his cover, their trust and friendship eroded overnight.
It was hard to admit he had only one friend left: Tony, his first flight instructor in the RAF and the only one who knew the truth.
 

“Come on, Danny, we better make ready. We’re up in thirty minutes.” Tossing her head back, she strode purposefully off toward a group of caravans.

Danny gave a smug smile and started to follow when Chantelle said, loud enough for them both to hear, “And you can tell that arrogant brother of yours, the only bore around here is him.”

David found himself smiling at her repartee.

“You heard Chantelle,” Danny said harshly. “Now stay away from her; she’s not your type.”

David ran a hand through his short ebony hair and sighed. “Danny, I don’t think you know me well enough to be the judge of that.”

“No, but I know what kind of person you are and she happens to be a special friend, one who I don’t want to see getting hurt, which is what you have a history of. You hurt people, brother, and then you walk away and leave others to pick up the pieces. Just stay away from her, that’s all I’m asking.”

He looked and reminded David too much of their mother, only with Danny he knew the sensitivity was sincere.
“Yeah sure.”
David walked away.

Despite what he had told Chantelle, David found himself staying around to watch the Swift Flying Circus take to the skies. Two Stearman biplanes soared into the air, one after the other. His binoculars focused on the second one. A black and white emblem of a swift was painted on the tail against the bright yellow background and strapped to a support in the middle of the wings was Chantelle. He wouldn’t have known it was her, since her hair was covered by a white helmet, except that he was familiar with her body and what it felt like to have his hands around that slender waist and the swell of those breasts pressed up against him. Angrily he dismissed the feeling. Those white gloves and boots made her look more like a sacrificial penguin than a swift. A spiteful thought, but it felt better than admitting Chantelle looked quite spectacular.

The planes dipped and soared, did barrel rolls and spiral dives. At times they flew so close to one another; it looked as if the wings were touching. The crowd loved it, thousands of faces pointing up to the sky, cries of delight as pink and yellow smoke started billowing out from the planes. Then, as they looped, the smoke left in their wake entwined to form elaborate patterns across the skyline.