Eye of the Beholder (18 page)

That’s exactly what her father had said when she’d walked into his office that day her faith in love had been shattered. Was this what he’d felt? This driving, pulsing need that overrode common sense and reason?

Glenna glanced past Rafe to the door. He’d closed it behind him, but it wasn’t locked. Anyone could walk in. It was a wonder that her assistant hadn’t checked on her yet. What if Janet had called Security after all?

She’d thought she was in control of her feelings. Damn Rafe Marek. What made him think hewalk back into her life after he’d done such a thorough job of shutting her out of his?

Rafe sensed the change in Glenna’s body well before he saw the change in her expression. Her back straightened. Her shoulders stiffened. She was pulling herself back into the elegant, power-suited businesswoman he’d seen when he’d opened the door.

He should let her go. Take his hands off her and step back. Chalk up her reaction when she’d seen him to surprise and get on with the business that had brought him here. Forget about the leap of yearning he’d felt when he’d seen her run to him.

Sure. In a minute. But first there was something he’d been wanting to do for four weeks.

He cupped the back of her head, fitting his palm over the smooth twist of her tamed hair. Instead of the softness he remembered, he felt the hard poke of a hairpin and the crispness of hair spray. That jarred him, but he tightened his grip and brought his mouth down on hers anyway.

He tasted lip gloss and coffee. He increased the pressure, searching for something familiar. Her lips trembled briefly, but they didn’t part. She didn’t moan. She didn’t hold him. She brought her hands between them and pushed at his chest.

He lifted his head.

Her eyes searched his. Her gaze was more wary than he’d ever seen. “Why, Rafe?” she asked.

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“Why are you kissing me?”

“To say hello.”

“I thought we had this straight. What happened between us, it’s over.”

“Then why did you run to me just now?”

“I was surprised, and I’m…pleased to see you. Because I’m grateful.”

It sounded as if she were reciting a list. “Is that why you kissed my neck?”

She gave him another push. “Call it a reflex action.” A spark of anger flared in her eyes. “You know all about those, don’t you? Reflex reactions?”

He’d never seen her angry before, he realized. It was…intriguing. “Glenna…”

“Why are you here, Rafe?”

“You were supposed to call me.”

“What?”

“Did you lose my number?”

“No. I just…never got around to it. Let go of me, Rafe. We’re not in the jungle anymore.”

“Right.” He released her and stepped back. “Guess you’ve been too busy to call, what with your job and all those fancy dinner parties at your mother’s.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She smoothed the front of her jacket. “How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“And your “It’s fine, too.” He dropped his gaze. She’d smoothed the wrinkles their embrace had left in her jacket, but her skirt was still slightly twisted. Her long, slender legs had the subtle sheen of sheer hose and a pair of classy-looking high heels were on her feet. “Your ankle seems better.”

“Yes, it’s completely healed, thank you.”

“And those scrapes on your knees are gone.”

“They weren’t serious. Would you like some coffee?” she asked, turning back toward her desk. “I’ll order a fresh pot.”

She was retreating into herself before his eyes. Treating him like a stranger.

Well, that’s what he’d expected, wasn’t it? That’s what the psych training advised. But Rafe didn’t like it now any more than he’d liked it when she’d done the same thing at the hospital.

He caught her elbow before she could move past him. “Glenna, wait.”

Her arm trembled in his grasp. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No coffee? Would you prefer tea?”

“I don’t want anything except an answer.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you asking me a question. What was it you wanted to know?”

He drew her back to face him. “Are you pregnant?”

She shook her head.

He ducked down so that he could see into her eyes. “Glenna, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Three days after I got home, I—” She cleared her throat. “My body rhythm is as regular as clockwork. I assure you, Rafe, there isn’t any baby.”

He was unprepared for the disappointment that went through him. It wasn’t rational. He should be pleased—this was one complication he didn’t have to worry about. “The odds were against it.”

“And luck appeared to be with us. Was there anything else you wanted to see me about?”

“Are you dismissing me, Glenna?”

“I do have several items that need my attention before the end of the day, so unless you have some other business…” She looked at the place where he held her arm.

“I want you to come back to Fort Bragg with me.”

“What?”

“As soon as possible.”

“But I told you I’m not pregnant. You don’t have to pretend we have a relationship. Because we don’t, Rafe. You were right about everything. Absolutely everything. I realize I made a fool of myself, and I apologize again if my behavior made you uncomfortable. You were only trying to do your job. I had no right to push you into that…unwanted intimacy.”

“You didn’t need to push very hard, Glenna.” He let go of her elbow and stroked his hand along her cheek. “You’re a desirable woman.”

She jerked her head away from his touch and walked to the window. Folding her arms tightly over her chest, she stared through the rain at the street below. “Rafe, there’s no point to this.”

“To what?”

“Why couldn’t you just phone me? Or say hello like normal people do instead of charging through the door as if you’re on some mission?”

“But I am. I want you to come back to Bragg with me. I need—”

“No.”

He moved behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It would only be for a few days. A week at the most.”

She knocked his hand away so hard his knuckles stung. “However pathetic I might have seemed to you, I do have a life here. I’ve put myself back together. I’m not the woman you knew.”

He could see that. This woman wore lipstick and hair spray and had a temper. “I’m aware that you have a life. I realize your absence would be difficult to explain, but in the interests of security my commander wants you to keep the visit confidential.”

“Your commander?” She turned to face him. “What does he have to do with our personal business? Or did you document everything we shared in some military report?”

He was making a complete mess out of this, he realized. What was it about Glenna that didn’t let him think straight? “Glenna, what happened between us is private, and it has nothing to do with this. I need you back at Bragg to help my team prepare for a mission.”

“What?”

“We’re going after Juarez at his compound. You’ve seen more of it than I have. We need your memories of the layout in order to plan our assault.”

A siren whined outside. A car honked. Glenna slowly stepped away from the window. “Are you saying that you need me to help plan your mission?”

“Yes. Juarez has to be brought to justice. He belongs in the same prison as his brother Arturo and we’re going to put him there.”

“And is that why you came here today?”

“Essentially.”

She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, staring at him over manicured nails the color of her lipstick. “That’s why you want me at the base,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

“I misunderstood.”

“I realize that. I’m sorry.”

“I’d thought you wanted me there because of our…personal relationship.”

“You claimed we don’t have a personal relationship.”

She dropped her hand and lifted her chin. “We don’t. Not anymore.”

“Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t help us.”

“I can’t simply leave my job, Rafe. I have responsibilities

“Don’t you want to get Juarez?”

“Of course, I do,” she said fiercely. “I’ve been working on that in my own way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m putting together a study about developing a resort in Rocama. I’m hoping it can be presented to the hotel board. It would give the population an alternative to working for Juarez.”

“I remember you told me about that idea. It has merit. But it would be easier to pursue once Juarez is in custody. His family has too many connections in the government who wouldn’t want your project to succeed.”

“Yes, I’ve already run into that.”

“What about your other responsibilities? Is there any possibility of delegating them?”

“Maybe some of them, but—”

“Then come with me now. We can get started tonight.”

“No, not tonight.” She walked to her desk and flipped open a familiar-looking leather-covered book. “I can postpone some appointments and have my assistant handle the rest, but I can’t leave until tomorrow at the earliest.”

He followed her across the room. He noticed the chair behind her desk was on its back. Was that the crash he’d heard earlier? He righted it and slid it into place. “Then you’ll help us?”

“I don’t know how much help I could be, Rafe. I didn’t see much more of Juarez’s house than you did.”

“Even the smallest detail could prove vital to the success of the assault, Glenna. Knowing in advance which way a door swings open could save someone’s life.”

“Will you be participating in the assault?”

“There’s nothing in this world that could stop me.”

She studied him in silence, then dipped her head in an affirmative. “All right.”

He caught her hands. “Thanks, Glenna.”

She tugged her hands free. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Our relationship will be strictly business.”

He wanted to argue the point, but that wouldn’t be rational, either. As always, his first priority had to be the mission, not the woman. “Whatever you say.”

“Fine. I’ll check my calendar and get back to you.”

Rafe had heard that before. He pushed aside a potted fern, propped his hip against her desk and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to let Glenna slip away from him again. For the good of the mission, of course. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait here.”

This was definitely insane, Glenna thought, pressing her palm over her stomach in an effort to quiet the butterflies. How could considering going back to Fort Bragg with Rafe? How could she see him without remembering what a fool she’d made of herself? And how could she work with him when she couldn’t forget what it felt like to slide naked down his body?

But he’d said every detail that might be stored in her memories could be important. And he would be participating in the assault. What if Rafe was hurt because she’d refused to help?

There really wasn’t any choice. She had to go. It would be all right. She could do this. She simply had to make sure it was on her terms.

No more hugs. No more references to the past. And the next time he wanted to say hello, he would have to settle for a handshake.

“Miss Hastings, we have a problem in the kitchen.”

The butterflies gathered into a heavy knot. Glenna dropped her hand, her palm brushing over the folds of her dress. Mindful of the guests around them, she kept a pleasant expression on her face despite her assistant’s panicked tone. “What happened, Janet?”

“The head chef walked out.”

Glenna did a quick survey of the room. The Winston Hotel’s main ballroom had been transformed into a sparkling starscape for the evening. Tiny lights twinkled from swaths of midnight-blue velvet that draped the walls. Silver cloths covered the tables that were being prepared for the banquet, which was due to start in thirty minutes. Beneath the cascades of crystal that formed the ballroom’s three chandeliers, the hotel’s waiters were moving smoothly through the crowd, offering trays of hors d’oeuvres. The threatened walkout hadn’t materialized, but not everyone was satisfied with the new contract. “The head chef isn’t part of the union,” Glenna said.

“This has nothing to do with the union,” Janet said. “His wife went into labor and he’s on his way to meet her at the hospital.”

“How far along—”

“Apparently the labor was well advanced. It’s their third child, so she’ll probably give birth any minute.”

“I meant how far along were the dinner preparations?”

“The main course is taken care of, but he was in the middle of supervising dessert.”

“See if the sous-chef can carry on without him.”

“But he left strict instructions that no one could touch anything.”

The satin evening purse that hung from Glenna’s bare shoulder began to vibrate against her hip. She held up her palm to ask Janet to wait as she opened her bag and took out her phone. “Glenna Hastings,” she said.

The voice was distorted by static and difficult to make out. Glenna pressed her fingers over her other ear and the reason for the poor reception soon became apparent. Four of the six musicians who should have set up forty minutes ago were stuck in a traffic jam in the Midtown Tunnel. Glenna told them to do their best, then terminated the call and turned to her assistant. “Janet, I need you to go to the lounge on the main floor and bring back the piano player. He’ll have to fill in until the other musicians get here. We can only hope they make it before the dancing is suppoed to start.”

“The piano player? What about the chef?”

“He thinks he’s indispensable, but I’m sure the rest of the kitchen staff can muddle through without his leadership. Oh, and make a note to send a gift to the chef’s new baby. That should head off any tantrums.”

“The baby’s?”

“The chef’s.”

Janet smiled. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Simple solutions are usually the best.”

“I’ll have to remember that when you’re on vacation next week. I’m glad you’re going. I don’t mean I’m glad you’ll be away, I just mean you never take time off and…” Janet’s words trailed away as her gaze went past Glenna’s shoulder. Her lips pursed as if she had just tasted something unpleasant. “Uh, Miss Hastings?”

What now? Glenna thought. “Yes?”

“That man’s here.”

“Excuse me?”