Bridal Armor (15 page)

Chapter Seventeen

6:30 p.m.

From the wide glass windows of the suite, Lucas glowered down at the empty driveway as if he could make Thomas show up by sheer willpower alone.

He’d had far too much time to dwell on the parts of this nasty business to which he was privy.

“It’s a setup,” he grumbled. The idea that anyone could accuse Thomas of treason after all he’d given up in service for his country was laughable. But very few people had the clearance to read his file and understand the joke. Nine out of ten of Thomas’s efforts in the field would be locked down with a classified label until the end of time. And the tenth would forever be buried deep in the archives of “never happened.”

“Of course it is,” Victoria said, stepping up beside him.

The warmth of her arms sliding around his waist was a balm to his senses. They were a good team and he was more grateful every day that they had each other. Yet, having her near only emphasized just how alone Thomas was out there.

“If he could just get up here, we could help him.”

“Relax,” she said. “You’ve done all you can. They’ll find a way to clear his name.”

He turned within her embrace and cupped her chin. “You’re an optimist.”

“So I’ve been told. I always considered myself a pragmatist. Optimism must be a side effect of our consistent success rate.” She smiled, raising his hand to her lips and kissing his palm. “Doesn’t make me wrong.”

“No. It doesn’t,” he admitted. “Why are you so sure when I have so many doubts?”

“Intuition.”

“Hmph.” He struggled against the helpless feeling lodged in his chest.

“Aside from intuition, there is the cold hard truth that Thomas isn’t capable of treason. Which means, setup or not, he will find a way to prevail.”

“Before tomorrow’s ceremony.” Lucas hoped.

She reached out and smoothed his tie. “Nothing like a deadline to inspire some people.”

He felt himself smiling, despite his misgivings. “We have the most talented investigators in the world under this roof. There should be more we can do.”

“We’re as prepared as we can be.” She stepped back, adjusted the pendant at her throat. “We have to wait it out.”

He thought of the men and women, here with spouses and children to celebrate Casey and Levi, and he understood what she wasn’t saying. If a madman who liked to blow things up planned a strike against Thomas, the wedding was the perfect target to cause the most emotional damage and retire the most influential and revered man in the spy business.

As close as he and Thomas were, not even Lucas knew an enemy who would make such a bold and diabolical play.

His wife was right. They needed everyone on site alert and in protective mode to prevent a deadly assault on the wedding. As much as it grated against his instincts, he would have to trust Specialist Grant and the Drakes to help Thomas out without backup from him.

“I should have insisted he rent skis instead of staying in Denver last night.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Only if it had failed.” He smiled at her exasperated expression. Somehow it made him feel a little better. He offered her his arm, the cane in his other hand in case his leg grew weary. “Let’s go practice a wedding.”

Downstairs in the grand room designated for the ceremony, chairs were already arranged to create an aisle.

Lucas exchanged a glance with Jim Colby and knew the security measures they’d added were still functioning as they should. The minister had driven up from the village and claimed the roads were passable, if not exactly easy to navigate. He sounded grateful Casey had arranged for him to stay at the resort the next two nights.

Dressed in a sleek pink cocktail dress, Casey glowed with happiness. He could only imagine how much brighter she’d be tomorrow evening when the ceremony was official.

Her smile faded a fraction when Thomas wasn’t there to practice pacing or his one important line. Her gaze had locked with Lucas’s and he’d nodded toward her mother. He didn’t want to fill in unless he absolutely had to but he would do whatever was needed of him.

As she walked down the aisle, Casey only had eyes for Levi, and Lucas knew whatever happened with her uncle, her focus was rightly on the moment of greatest importance.

Thirty minutes later the entire assembly was enjoying another festive meal. The mood was light and the guests had fun toasting the bride and groom.

Levi’s mother joked about the weather and learning how to pack a snowball, but Lucas had experienced firsthand her good aim in the earlier snowball fight.

When dessert had come and gone, Casey invited the wedding party to open the small wrapped boxes at each place setting before the guests broke apart to the various entertainments.

Levi left his seat and brought a gift to Lucas. “Mr. Camp, Casey asked me to give you this.”

Lucas glanced down at the small box wrapped in the soft pink-and-mint-green wedding colors. He was surprised and a bit wary. Though he was Casey’s godfather, he wasn’t an official member of the wedding party. “Thank you.”

Exchanging a look with his wife, Lucas carefully unwrapped the small box and opened it to find a digital key chain. Around him, others were already chatting and smiling at the images included in their similar gifts.

Lucas followed suit, but the images on his key chain weren’t of today’s outdoor fun, or a recollection of earlier times with Casey. He was looking at screenshots of DeRossi’s personnel jacket and her itinerary for the weekend. There was even a candid shot of her with Thomas near a car at the airport.

Victoria leaned closer as he showed her. “What a thoughtful gift.”

“Definitely.” Across the room, he met Casey’s curious gaze and saluted her resourcefulness with a quick nod. “She must have overheard me and made a call anyway.”

He dropped the key chain into his pocket until he and Victoria could make a reasonable departure from the party.

Thanks to Casey’s determination, maybe there was more he could do. He hoped there was something here that would prove helpful to freeing Thomas from DeRossi and the accusations she was investigating.

Chapter Eighteen

Glenstone Village, 9:38 p.m.

Jo stared out the window and up toward the snowy peak of the mountain. She could just picture the slopes dotted with skiers in a few months’ time. Provided Whelan didn’t blow it up in the next few hours.

The cab had been a brilliant idea and gotten them through the choke point without any problem, but now Jo had to wonder what came next. They’d spent the afternoon like a couple of tourists, walking about window shopping, holding hands and otherwise blending in.

They did make time to purchase new cell phones and clothes better suited for the weather. Even though it was a bold attempt to draw the enemy closer, nothing had happened. She hated the way their pretense made her want so badly for this to be real. Her frustration was only compounded when they’d not seen any sign of Whelan.

“We’ll start again in the morning,” Thomas said, coming up behind her and laying his hands gently on her shoulders. His thumbs rubbed slow circles at the base of her neck and she felt herself melting under his touch.

“It’s a small town. Where else can he be?” She immediately regretted the question. “He can’t be at the lodge already.”

But she caught a rather predatory smile in the reflection of the window. “If he is, Lucas will handle it.”

“Is that where I sent the text message earlier?”

“No. I had you send that to Jason Grant.”

She spun around, shocked by his easy answer, but the truth was right there in his eyes. “Why? It’s an incriminating message. One he could use to bury you.”

“He’s on our side.” He turned her back toward the window. “He’ll understand the ‘wolf’ is another term for Whelan. Knowing how Whelan operates and where I need to be, he’ll take appropriate action. He’s a genius at the tactical stuff. Used to be a sniper.”

“Does he have contacts who can fly a Russian helicopter?”

“Not according to his background check.”

Which she’d seen, too. She had questions, but neither of them had answers and the longer he touched her the less her brain wanted to stay engaged with the puzzle of who was behind this setup.

“But you meet all kinds of people in this business.”

“Are you teasing me?” she asked.

Before he could answer, her new cell phone chimed with an incoming message. She ducked away from him to read it.

“Oh.” Stunned by the message, she handed him the phone. “New intel from the office.”

“What?”

She watched him read through the message detailing the new information that proved he had nothing to do with the sale or theft of the virus. “What do you think?”

“It’s the same information I would have offered up in a formal defense,” he said.

“I’m glad it won’t go that far.” They both knew formal charges would ruin his career even if he was acquitted.

“It has to be Lucas or Casey,” he said, clearly stunned. “Maybe both. I’m not sure I want to know how they dug all that up considering the wedding festivities are keeping them busy.”

The sadness in his voice reminded Jo how much it had hurt him to miss tonight’s rehearsal dinner.

“The investigation will be officially dropped in the morning.” She bounced on her toes. That was good enough news to lighten any bad mood.

His brow furrowed. “We still don’t know how that virus got delivered to the cabin.” He handed her the phone. “No matter what this says, no matter who changed their mind about me, Whelan isn’t done. He won’t back down. Not when he’s this close to finishing me.”

“I can live with that. For tonight.” She leaped into his arms, eager to celebrate even a partial victory, and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. “All we have to do now is get the Whelan situation under control and you’ll be escorting your niece down that aisle. How does it feel, Director, to be free of the dark cloud of suspicion?”

His big hands cupped her backside. “Feels good.”

“You
are
teasing me.”

“I’m getting there.” He rocked his hips and she felt his arousal nudging at her core.

She kissed him, lightly at first, just a soft brush of lips. But holding back wasn’t an option if this might well be her last chance with him. She let the heat build, did nothing to disguise her hunger, her unquenchable need for him.

He moved toward the bed and dropped her in the deep softness of the down comforter. Laughing, she drew him down with her, wanting to touch him everywhere.

She pushed his sweater off over his head, her hands molding to the hard planes of his chest. He parted her blouse, slowly, one button at a time and she thought she’d die before his mouth finally landed hot on her breasts as he kissed and suckled the aching peaks of her nipples.

Her hands cruised over him, marveling at the strength in his sculpted shoulders, down his back. Her fingers found the old wound and she remembered avoiding this spot five years ago when it was fresh. Now it was scarred over and she wanted to feel the proof of survival.

She followed his waistband around, wedging her hands between them, eager to relearn every inch of him. He pushed her hands away and she knew a moment’s panic, until she realized he only wanted to strip out of his clothing faster.

When he was gloriously naked, he tugged off her boots, dragged her jeans from her hips, and simply stared for a long, delicious moment.

“You’re as gorgeous as I remember.”

She didn’t have the courage to ask how often he thought of those brief, passionate days. “Hurry,” she said, opening to him.

His half smile told her he had no intention of following orders. He bent and pressed a kiss to her belly, working his way up to her mouth, then back down again. She was quivering under his touch, elated that her memory had served her so well. The feel of his skin against hers was almost more than she could bear. She wanted all of him...now.

When he entered her it was slow and tender and she nearly wept from the rightness of it.

Then he moved, and she shifted, wrapping her legs around him as he drove into her. The rhythm of their bodies felt as right as anything she had ever known, as right as their coming together had felt five years ago. Her climax washed over her hot and fast and she cried out, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts until he came with her and they clung to each other, both breathless and exhilarated as their bodies cooled.

When his breathing deepened and evened out, she snuggled next to his warm body, but she refused to sleep. It was her turn to keep watch. As he’d said, Whelan wasn’t going to back down and she wondered how they could put an end to the threat and still make the wedding. Not much more than two hours passed before he stirred and she hadn’t come up with a solution.

“You should rest, too.”

“I’m fine,” she said softly. Several more minutes passed and she knew he was determined to take over the watch. “What happened with you and Whelan? Why does he hate you? I understand what you cost him and how you put a smudge on his reputation but it feels like there’s more.”

For a moment she thought he’d shut her out as he rolled to his back and stared up at the ceiling. She drew the sheet up to ward off the chill left by the absence of his body nestled against hers.

“When I spotted him in Oberammergau I had to take action. He started with the IRA when he wasn’t much more than a kid. It’s a miracle he still has all ten of his fingers. He’s done so many heinous things, all in the name of money and building a reputation for viciousness.”

She rolled to her side and gently laid a hand on his heart, happy beyond reason when he covered it with his own. If only this could be...forever.

“The deal he was working in Germany would have cost so many lives. The Iselys were offering him the biggest payday of his career. I made a few calls, lured him away with the temptation of more cash and dumped him in Interpol hands.”

He sat up suddenly and scrubbed at his face as if he could erase the memories. The scar on his back was pale and puckered against the rest of the smooth skin over solid muscle. She wished she’d done a better job with the stitches.

“I didn’t know taking him out of play would mean the death of his sisters.”

“What?”

He looked back at her, his eyes haunted by what he’d said, what he’d done. “Terrible, isn’t it? It’s the one thing I wish I could change about that mission.”

“Whelan’s greed got them killed, not you.”

Thomas shook his head. “He would disagree.”

“He’s a criminal. We might make tough choices, but at the end of the day, we are all responsible for our own actions.”

Thomas looked at her, amazed by the faith he saw shining in her eyes. “You’re not appalled?”

“You did the right thing.” She opened her arms to him. “You always do. It’s one of your most admirable traits.”

He went into her arms, accepting the full measure of grace she offered, and she gave for as long as he wanted.