Fool Me Once (7 page)

* * *

“Do
you always travel like this?” she asked, glancing around the small private jet
as they flew over France. A steward had just served them coffee, and Olivia
sipped appreciatively from the fine porcelain cup.

“Not
always,” he replied casually, looking past her to assess the scattered clouds
below. “I fly my own Cessna at home. It saves a lot of time.”

 
“Yes, I suppose it would,” she murmured, following his gaze. She remained silent
for several moments, then turned to face him. “Josh, did I say something to
offend you last night? One minute we were chatting away and the next thing I
knew you’d disappeared.” She studied him for a reaction, but he looked at her
calmly, giving nothing away.

“I
owe you an apology for that.” His eyes held hers. “Perhaps someday I’ll explain
it to you, but for now, please know that I’m sorry for walking out on you.”

In
an attempt to lighten the mood she held out her left hand. The diamond caught
the light, sending shafts of brilliance dancing around the cabin. “As you can
see, I haven’t completely given up on you.”

“Good,
because I have a feeling you’re going to love where we’re staying.”

* * *

He
was right. A limousine service met them at the airport and they were taken to a
breathtaking villa overlooking the Mediterranean. An older woman met them at
the door, hastily tucking an errant strand of graying hair behind her ear.

“You
must be Monsieur Morgan,” she said in heavily accented English. “And Miss MacMillan.
Welcome to the villa. I am Martine, your housekeeper. My husband Alain takes
care of the grounds.” She gave them a short tour through gardens lush with
flowers, shrubs and fruit trees. The scent of roses hung in the heated air and
bees clustered around massive lavender plants.

The
villa’s interior was shaded and peaceful, and Olivia kicked off her shoes
immediately, reveling in the cool tile floors.

“Your
bedroom is upstairs. Alain will take your bags up as soon as he gets back from
town.” A car door slammed, and Martine tilted her head. “Ah, here he is now.
I’ll tell him you’ve arrived. Please…” she indicated that they should continue
exploring. “You will call me if I can be of help, no?” She scurried toward the
kitchen.

Olivia
felt immediately at home. “It’s gorgeous,” she said, trying to take it all in.
“How did you find it?”

“A
friend in London arranged it for me.” Josh glanced around appreciatively. “He
has good taste.”

They
rounded a corner and Olivia stifled a gasp. An infinity pool hung out over the
hillside, blending the pool water with the Mediterranean in the distance. The
effect was breathtaking. Terracotta planters of various heights stood grouped
around the deck, exotic plants spilling over their sides in luxuriant green
cascades. Tucked under a broad awning, a well-stocked bar backed onto the
house.

Olivia
slid into a lounge chair under an overgrown trellis, stretching her arms above
her head. “I could get used to this.”

Josh
stood looking down at her, an indulgent smile on his face. “I’m glad you like
it,” he said softly. “It’s good to see you relax.”

She
pushed herself out of the chair and stood in front of him. In her bare feet she
had to look up into his eyes. For a fleeting moment, something moved in their
depths.

“Thank
you, Josh.” She laid a hand on his chest, and was surprised to feel the rapid
beating of his heart. “I know I wasn’t very gracious about accepting your
invitation, but this is lovely.” She wandered over to the bar, sliding onto one
of the tall stools. “Let’s have something cold to drink.”

Josh
walked behind the bar. “It looks fully stocked. What would you like?”

“A
glass of white wine would be nice.”

“Coming
right up.” He removed the foil cap and started to insert the corkscrew. “But
there’s a price.” He removed the cork and twisted it off the corkscrew, placing
it in front of her. “I’d like to know what made you decide to come with me.” He
placed two glasses on the bar, filling them part way.

Olivia
studied the pale liquid. How much should she tell him? Her reasons were too
tangled, too personal to share, and yet she wanted to tell him about her work.
Raising her eyes to his, she searched for a glint of amusement, or
condescension, but found only interest. He could be arrogant, cheeky and
downright infuriating, but there was something solid about him. Something that
she could trust. What had Alex said? Something about trusting Josh with his
life. Olivia was beginning to understand why.

“Ever
since finishing my journalism course, I’ve devoted myself to my career.” She
held up a hand, as though warding off a comment. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve
loved every minute of it. But I’ve always been busy. Always had an assignment.”
She inched to the edge of the stool in her eagerness to be understood. “And
then the other day my editor refused to let me pursue a perfectly good story.”

“What
sort of a story?”

“I
wanted to follow one soldier in Iraq and describe the war from his point of
view. His Battalion is stationed near Basra, and I had permission to live at
the base for two weeks.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “It would have been
great, too. When I came back I was going to follow up with his family here at
home.”

“Iraq
is a dangerous place right now Darlin’.”

She
ignored the endearment with a toss of her head. “Not you too! You sound like my
editor. Not only did he kill the story idea, but he made me take a few weeks
off.”

“Well
in this case, he’s right. Maybe I should thank him.”

“What
for?”

“For
keeping you alive. For giving you time off.” He bent his knees until his eyes
were level with hers. “For giving you a reason to come with me.”

Olivia
looked him in the eye. “There’s a little more to it than that.”

“Really?”
He moved out from behind the bar and took the stool next to her.

“I
asked Alex about you, you know. He told me that you used to be with American
Special Forces.” She tilted her head to one side. “I’ve been to Afghanistan and
I know there’s nothing ordinary about what those men do.”

His
eyes narrowed. “That was a different lifetime for me.”

She
nodded. “Fair enough. But knowing that you had been with such an elite branch
of the American military intrigued me, and that’s part of the reason I came.”
She paused. “That and feeling sorry for myself that my editor turned me down on
the Iraq story.”

He
lifted his glass, studying her over the rim. “I hate to disappoint you, but the
most excitement in my life these days is the odd poker game. Not much of a
story there.”

“One
can always hope.” She shrugged. “Anyway that’s why I decided to come with you.”

“And
I’m glad you did.” There was a change in his voice. The slick-talking gambler
had disappeared.

She
gave him a long steady look, as though seeing him for the first time. “Who are
you, Josh Morgan?” One minute I think I’ve got you figured out then you go and
say something completely out of character.”

He
pulled back in mock horror. “Now ma’am, why would you want to go and figure out
an old cowpoke like me?” He shook his head. “That won’t do. No siree. That
won’t do at all.”

She
rolled her eyes. “See what I mean? You’re impossible.” She took a few steps
toward the main house. “I for one am not going to let this day go to waste. I’m
going to have a swim.”

* * *

Josh
watched her walk away, bare feet slapping softly on the tiles. He took a deep
breath. It was becoming difficult to maintain the façade of smooth talking,
devil-may-care gambler. And to make things worse, Olivia wasn’t anything like
he’d anticipated.

As
he’d read her pieces in WorldView, a picture of the woman had begun to form in
his mind. From the tone of her writing, he suspected that she was driven,
always going one step further, setting up just one more interview to add depth
to her stories. As a result, her pieces lingered in the mind. Her stories
captured the frailty of the human spirit as well as its strengths. And yet he’d
ignored those clues that pointed to the woman behind the professional. For some
reason he’d thought she would be like other journalists–most of whom cared only
about getting the latest story. It had been a mistake to pre-judge her. A big
mistake.

He
wandered to the edge of the pool deck, lost in thought. He could still feel the
way he’d responded when he caught up to her in the greenhouse and how his heart
had thudded against his ribcage like a bucking bronco. Had that been only a few
days ago?

He
smiled. She was feisty and had a sharp tongue. But he’d begun to see beyond the
brittle exterior she presented to the world. To his surprise, he’d discovered a
gentle, vulnerable woman; a woman who wasn’t even aware that she set his heart
racing every time she moved, or tilted her head just so. But he had a mission
to accomplish, and that had to be his focus. Zach’s face swam before his eyes
and he steeled himself. Tonight the real work would begin.

* * *

“Olivia!
It’s a delight to see you again.”

“Hello
Gerard.” Olivia took the extended hand, kissing the air on either side of the
man’s handsome features. “It’s been a while.” She slipped her arm through
Josh’s.  “Darling, I’d like you to meet Gerard Lavoie.” She gestured
vaguely around the casino. “This is his establishment. Gerard, I’d like you to
meet Josh Morgan, my fiancé.”

The
Frenchman smiled graciously, and extended his hand. “You are most welcome, Mr.
Morgan. I don’t think we’ve enjoyed your company before?” The dark eyes took in
the impeccable tailoring of Josh’s suit and assessed the quality of the ring on
Olivia’s hand in a matter of seconds. She noticed the brief flare of interest
before he turned his attention back to Josh.

“This
is my first visit,” replied Josh smoothly. “And so far, I’m very impressed.” He
and Olivia had taken a short tour of the public areas before settling at the
bar for a drink.

“What
is your game monsieur?”

Josh’s
gaze drifted across the casino, where elegantly dressed patrons mingled with
sunburned tourists. “I dabble at bit baccarat, but my main interest is high
stakes poker.” His eyes came back to rest on Gerard’s face.

“Ah
yes. This has become the game of choice for many people in America,
n’est-ce
pas
?”

“It
seems that way.” Josh smiled politely.

“I
believe we have just such a game scheduled for this evening in one of our
private rooms.” He nodded toward Olivia. “If you will excuse me, I’ll check to
see if they can accommodate another player. In the meantime, if you decide to
play the baccarat, I’ll find you at the tables.”

“Thank
you.” Josh smiled broadly. “I’d appreciate that.”

The
Frenchman walked away and Josh turned to Olivia. “Thank you, my dear.”

“For
what?”

“For
lending me your credibility.” He lowered his voice. “Your friend Gerard knows
exactly how many players there are in that game tonight. He knows their names,
and no doubt he has a good idea of their net worth, down to the last dinar,
pound or franc. He hasn’t gone to see if there’s room for me, he’s checking me
out.”

“Really?”

“Really.”
He managed to keep an eye on the new arrivals without being obvious. “These
games sometimes go on all night. What do you intend to do if I disappear back
there?” He nodded his head toward a shallow flight of stairs behind a red
velvet rope.

“I’ll
probably play some roulette.” She sipped her champagne cocktail. “I’ll get a
taxi if I want to leave before you’re finished. I’m on a holiday, remember?”

“That
you are.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “Let’s take another walk
around.”

He
slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned into him, glad of an excuse to
enjoy the solid comfort of his body. He guided her smoothly among the tables,
and she nodded to several people she recognized. Being on his arm was
intoxicating, and his comments as they passed the various gaming areas barely
registered. With a shock, she realized that she wanted to know this man in the
most intimate fashion. She wanted to run her fingers through that shock of dark
hair; she wanted to kiss him–right there, on that spot on his neck. She wanted
to…

“…so
if you don’t mind I’ll play a few hands of baccarat while I’m waiting.” He
stopped and looked at her strangely. “Are you all right?”

She
swallowed with difficulty. “I’m sorry, Darling. My mind was somewhere else.”

He
tipped up her chin, looking deeply into her eyes. Surely he didn’t know what
she’d been thinking! “I was saying I think I’ll play baccarat for a while.” He
leaned down and whispered in her ear. “And whatever it was you were just
thinking about–hold that thought.” He slipped into an empty chair and she
backed away, her face aflame.

Olivia
made her way to the roulette table, glancing back over her shoulder to where
Josh was introducing himself to the others at the baccarat table. His remark
had unsettled her, and she nodded distractedly to the other players.