Out of Control (45 page)
“It’s when you’re about to shit in your pants because you’re so scared, and you don’t back down. It’s when you’re terrified and you still get the job done. Fearless people aren’t courageous—they’re just too fucking stupid to know they’re in danger. Or they’re too crazy to care. Courage is all about being scared and sane and staying the course anyway. Do you know what I see in you?”
Again, he didn’t let her answer. “I see the same kind of strength that I saw in the guys who made it through BUD/S training, who made it into the SEAL teams. I wasn’t kidding when I said that about you making it through. You’re like the guys who made it easily—if such a word can be used to describe the process. They just kept going. They were just quietly strong. They just put their heads down and succeeded simply by not quitting.”
“Is that how you did it?” Savannah asked. “Because I’ve heard about the training that SEALs have to go through and—”
“I’m an asshole, remember?” he said. “I don’t do anything the easy way. Nah, I was the guy who was targeted by the instructors. I was the one who was supposed to ring out right away. I got labeled a smart-ass and a screwup right off the start, and I got hammered. Every freaking minute of every day, I had one of the instructors breathing down my neck, telling me I wasn’t good enough, telling me they were going to break me like a twig, telling me I was going to crawl away from BUD/S like the loser that I was.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Yeah, you see, that’s what’s interesting about it. If they hadn’t ridden me so hard, I probably would’ve quit. But the fact that they told me I was never going to make it . . .
“See, sometimes people’s lack of faith in you, sometimes the way other people can build a wall or a hurdle and then tell you that you’ll never get past it—sometimes that’s the best possible gift. I mean, it was for me. I guess it was something I learned from my asshole of a father, but all you have to do is tell me that I’m not good enough, and it’s like Popeye with his can of spinach. Suddenly, I’ve got the strength to go three times as far and five times as fast. Sometimes, no is the best thing to hear. Because then you’ve got to really think about how badly you want this thing, and whether it’s worth busting your ass to turn that no into a yes. And when you finally get it,” he added, “you know damn well what it’s worth.”
Savannah was silent. “Thank you for telling me that,” she finally said.
“Go to sleep now,” he told her. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover in the morning.”
“Good night,” she whispered. “Kenny.”
Kenny.
She sighed and nestled against him, her breath warm against his throat.
Ken held his tongue. Stupid thing was, he was starting to like it when she called him that.
I swung the picture into place, grabbed the package I’d brought from Evelyn’s and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
This was it. The moment of truth, with no time to waste. My heart was pounding as I quickly shucked off my clothes—all my clothes—as I slipped the shimmering blue gown over my head. It slid, cool and slippery, down my legs, pooling slightly on the tile floor. I slipped my feet into Evelyn’s slippers as I took all the pins from my hair, shaking it free to tumble down around my shoulders. With a trembling hand, I reapplied my lipstick, nearly smearing it down my chin as the doorknob suddenly rattled.
“Who’s in there?” Heinrich’s normally gentle voice was demanding, imperious. He repeated the question in harsh-sounding German.
I threw my lipstick back into my purse and stepped back from the mirror, attempting to get a look at myself before I opened the door.
Evelyn had been right—the gown was gorgeous. It fit almost perfectly, clingy yet not too tight. In a certain light it was quite opaque, but when I moved and the light hit it from a different angle, it was suddenly shockingly transparent.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do this.
Heinrich pounded on the door. “Open up right now, or I’ll call hotel security!”
“It’s me,” I said through the door. “Rose.” But he’d already gone into the other room, no doubt to use the telephone.
It was too late to back out. Too late to do anything but take a deep breath and open the door.
“It’s just me,” I called to him, desperate to catch him before the hotel staff became involved. It would be just my luck if someone came up who proceeded to recognize me as Mrs. Sally West from room 5412. I followed Heinrich toward the sitting room, conscious of the fact that he’d turned on all the lights. I kept moving, aware that as long as I did so, he’d only be able to catch glimpses of my body beneath that gown.
“I didn’t think you’d mind,” I said, “if I came here a little early. I wanted to surprise you.”
He was surprised all right. He had the phone in one hand, and a small but very deadly looking little gun in the other. I was surprised, too. I didn’t know he had a gun. He hadn’t carried it when he was out with me in the evenings.
He gazed at me, and I saw realization dawn as to what I was wearing, why I was there. It was the most amazing thing—he didn’t try to hide any of what he was feeling. He just looked at me with his heart and soul right there in his eyes for me to see. I no longer felt as if I were the only one nearly naked in this room.
He put his gun back into a holster he was wearing underneath his jacket, and spoke into the phone. “Yes, this is suite 5411. I need a bottle of your very best champagne, and I need it now. There’ll be a twenty dollar tip awaiting the man who can deliver it within the next two minutes.” He hung up the phone, turning slightly to follow my flight around the room.
“Stand still,” he ordered.
“I’m afraid to,” I admitted.
“Please.”
I turned and faced him.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Completely. Am I correct in assuming this is the message you wish me to receive?”
My mouth suddenly dry, I nodded.
He took a step toward me. “Say it. Yes.”
“Yes.” I lifted my chin slightly. “I have to warn you, I’m tempted to lock you away from the rest of the world and keep you just for myself. Because from now on, you’re mine, too, you know.”
He laughed with a hot smile and a sudden burst of pleasure that quickly turned to something else. Something softer, something warm. “I do know. But don’t fear—I’ve been yours since the day we first met.”
I started toward him, ready to fling myself into his arms, but a sharp rap on the door made me freeze. It was the champagne. I ducked into the bedroom, and Hank traded a very large sum of money for the wine and for the room service waiter’s equally swift disappearance.
“Do you know where I went this morning?” he called to me as he set about popping the cork.
I emerged from the dimness of the bedroom, instantly on edge. “No.”
He poured us each a glass of fizzing wine. “No guesses?”
“None at all,” I admitted as he handed me a glass. “I also don’t have any idea where you went this afternoon.” How could he possibly carry on a seemingly normal conversation while I was dressed like this?
He waved that away. “This afternoon was work. But this morning . . .” He laughed as he gazed at me. “I’m having a very good day,” he said. “Do you know the kind of day I mean, when absolutely everything goes smashingly right? I was nervous about, well . . . But then here you are, and oh, here you are, and I realize I’ve received my answer before I even asked my question. That’s very reassuring.”
The look on my face must have been one of sheer confusion, because he laughed again. “This morning I went out to get this.” He took a jeweler’s box from his jacket pocket. “Let’s get sandwiches for the car. I borrowed a car, Rose, and enough gas ration coupons so we could get to Maryland tonight,” he said as he pulled me down next to him on the sofa, as he handed the box to me. “Do you think I could convince you to wear this dress? Underneath my overcoat, so no one else could see you, of course. I’d just . . .”
I opened the box, and found myself staring at not just one ring, but three.
“I’d love to always remember that you wore this when you married me,” Hank said.
Those were wedding rings in that box. One for Hank and two for me—a plain gold band and an enormous sapphire in an elegantly simple setting.
And there was Hank, down on the floor, on one knee before me. He wanted to marry me. He wanted to whisk me away, tonight—right now—all the way to Maryland, where we could be wed on the spot.
Oh, dear God in heaven, I couldn’t marry him. There were so many reasons why we absolutely couldn’t rush right off to Maryland—one of them being that I wanted, I needed, to see the contents of that safe. If we went to Maryland, it would be a full day—possibly longer—before we returned.
And yet, Hank, my dear sweet, misguided Hank, actually wanted to marry me.
But how could I marry him—and then betray him? Because that was my plan. To keep him from forevermore assisting the Nazis in their efforts to win this terrible war. It was bad enough that I loved him, but the truth was, we were mortal enemies. And I was going to do whatever I had to do, to ensure that Heinrich von Hopf was no longer a threat to my country.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as I stared down at that gorgeous blue stone.
Oh, no he didn’t. At least I hoped he didn’t.
“You alone know that my title means much more to me than I let on. You know my feelings about honor and duty—to my family, to my country. Needless to say, you are not the woman my mother has picked out for me, and there will be hell to pay. If I survive the war.”
“Don’t say that! If . . . ?” I snapped the box shut.
“I don’t want to lie to you, Rose. I’ve had a somewhat dire premonition for weeks now. A feeling of . . . impending doom.”
“Hank!” Did he somehow know what I had in mind for him?
“It’s what kept me from asking you to marry me on that night we were reunited. But you seem determined for us to become lovers—”
“You don’t have to marry me. I should think that would be rather clear to you at this point.”
“I won’t cheapen what I feel for you by taking you as a mistress.” He was serious and so fierce about it. “I love you. Please come with me to Maryland. Marry me, Rose. Tonight. Everything else—my title, my position in Austria—is nothing without you.”
With that, I was down next to him on the floor. There was nothing to do but kiss him, and promise him everything.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I want to marry you.” It wasn’t a lie. I did want it. It simply wasn’t going to happen, though. “But let’s not drive all the way to Maryland tonight. Please, Hank? Let’s go first thing in the morning.”
I kissed him again, and it was a good long while before he pulled back. But pull back, he did. He even managed to get to his feet, and to help me up as well. But he released my hand almost immediately, crossing to get his overcoat. “I made a vow to myself that I would put a ring on your finger before . . .”
I moved toward his bed chamber, aware of the way the light hit my gown, and stopping to look back at him when it was just . . . so. He stopped moving, stopped talking.
I, too, had made a vow. I was going to get to spend at least one night in the arms of the man I loved. Come on, dress, don’t fail me now.
With one last lingering look at him, I turned and went into the bedroom.
Before I even started walking, he’d already put his overcoat down and was following me.
But he brought the ring box in with him and insisted on putting both of those rings on my finger before he so much as kissed me again.
But he did kiss me again. And again.
And again.
And it came to pass that we both kept our vows.
Rose knew exactly at which point Alyssa Locke was as she was reading her book.
It was a little strange to sit near her, knowing that this young woman, this near total stranger, was reading her personal account of that night she seduced Heinrich von Hopf.
Of course, there was a lot Rose had left out. Details that the rest of the world didn’t need to know. Details she didn’t want to share with anyone.
The look of pure devotion and desire on Hank’s face as he put his ring on her finger.
That had been so very hard to take. There was no minister or justice of the peace to make it official, but he was marrying her with that small act. With this ring, I thee wed. He didn’t say a word, but she knew what he was thinking just from looking into his eyes.
And she—what a ninny—she’d actually started to cry. Which slowed things down quite a bit. Hank again tried to talk her into going with him to Maryland, and she finally took severe measures to stop him—by slipping completely out of the blue gown.
Evelyn had been right. That particular gown had been quite easy to take off.
But Hank was Hank, bless him, and he persisted until she climbed onto his lap and kissed him. It didn’t take her long before she tugged him back with her onto his bed.
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