Colby Agency: Guardian Of The Night Part 10

He had no right to draw her into his private world. It was bad enough that she was here in a professional capacity. To play upon her feelings...her attraction to him...was wrong, selfish. He understood that and still he could think of nothing else. He wanted her with a desperation that minimized all else into insignificance.

This was a decision she had to make. In order to do that she had to know all the facts. If, after being made aware of his circ.u.mstances, she chose to pursue this path, so be it. Becoming involved with him would be a mistake, but it was hers-hers alone-to make if she so desired. And when her time here was up, she would go.

Decision made, Noah went in search of her.

He found her in the living room scanning the perimeter of the yard via the monitor that was a duplicate of the one in his room. It had been set to nighttime use, which eliminated the numerous filters that blocked the brightness of the sun during daylight hours.

Before making his presence known he studied her for a while. He liked very much that she always wore her hair down. Her clothes were far too concealing for his taste. He would like to see her in a great deal less fabric, fabric that was much more sheer. Actually, he'd like nothing more than to see her completely naked.

She turned abruptly, as if he'd telegraphed that last thought to her. The moment she became aware of his presence her tension grew palpable. The bruise on her cheek had darkened. Anger seethed inside him again. Not for the first time he wished it within his power to hurt the man responsible for that mark as well as the others. He thought of the way he'd touched her early this morning, applying the antiseptic ointment, and he longed to touch her more intimately.

First, he had to know that's what she wanted. Before she could make an informed decision she had to know the full truth. She had to know everything. Primarily that there was no future involved.

"I hope you slept well," she said, her tone guarded. She was uncertain of this ground, and he could understand that, considering his conflicting signals.

"Not very." He paused next to her. "And you?"

Those blue eyes locked fully onto his and need welled inside him. "I didn't sleep at all," she admitted. "Lowell and I spent the entire day making sure the food supplies and so forth were safe."

"I take it you found all to your satisfaction?" She was treading carefully here, keeping the conversation on business.

"Everything but three bars of soap that were delivered last week. Chester insists that the supplies were never out of his sight, yet the gla.s.s was imbedded in all three and all were made to look as if they'd never been opened."

He filed that information for later a.n.a.lysis. "Anything else?"

"Inside each soap wrapper there was a note. Cut-and-paste jobs like the others."

He waited expectantly for her to continue.

"Gotcha!" She searched his eyes, for reaction no doubt. "That's all. Just that one word."

Noah scrubbed a hand over his chin, belatedly noting that he should have shaved, but he'd had no patience for it. "I think I'd like to speak with Chester myself on the matter. Lowell as well. Has he retired already?"

She nodded. "I think he was pretty tuckered out from all the excitement."

"We had a visitor," Noah prodded. He'd been aware of the intrusion, but had not wanted to interfere. He'd recognized the man from Edgar's description of him. The infamous Lucas Camp. The man inspired awe in most, hatred in a few. But everyone in the business had heard of him. He was a legend.

"Lucas Camp, my boss." She ma.s.saged her forehead with her fingers, tired and sleep-deprived. The exhaustion was only now catching up to her, the struggle was visible. "He believes we're missing something right under our noses. He wants to dig a little deeper into Chester's background as well as Lowell's."

Noah lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Though I doubt he'll find what he's looking for in either of those gentlemen, I agree that we are overlooking something."

He tried not to devour her with his eyes, but the task was a difficult one. He wanted to study every line and curve of her. To know her by heart. No matter what else happened.

"No one on the island has ever given you trouble in the past?"

That angle had already been pursued, but he wasn't opposed to repeating the exercise. "There are a couple of the locals who at first resented my presence since they didn't understand my circ.u.mstances. They made a few idle threats, threw rocks at my house, nothing drastic. In time they simply gave up and accepted that I was here to stay."

She looked directly at him now, her eyes earnest. "And what are your circ.u.mstances, precisely?"

He motioned to the sofa. "Please, sit down."

She held his gaze, unmoving, trying to read him, a.s.sess his intent, but he gave away nothing just yet. Finally, she relented and perched on the edge of the sofa looking anything but relaxed.

He selected a seat directly across from her. He wanted to see the reaction in her eyes when he told her what she wanted to know. What he needed her to know.

"Five years ago a prototype cloaking device was stolen from Edgar Rothman's research group. The device, in the wrong hands, posed a serious threat to national security. I agreed to retrieve it."

"The general stole it," Blue offered.

"Correct." Some parts she already knew. Now for the hard part that she didn't know. "In order to retrieve the prototype, I was forced to use a duplicate device. The mission could not be accomplished without absolute anonymity." Flashes of memories from those moments when he'd insisted on the mission flickered past his mind's eye. Edgar had tried to dissuade him, but he'd known as well as Noah that it was the only way.

"But something went wrong," she suggested when his silence dragged on.

"Yes. The device is an organic implant that overrides the part of my histology and neurology that controls flesh tones, hair coloring..." He splayed his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "At will I can take on the qualities of my environment, to an extent. I can blend in. The dark is the most favorable environment."

She blinked, attempting to hide her initial astonishment. "Still?" She shook her head. "I mean, does it still work?"

He nodded affirmatively.

A flicker of irritation darkened those blue eyes. "That's why I can't see you when you go out into the darkness. You used it to hide from me." She huffed an exasperated breath, then seemed to catch herself and tuck her annoyance away. "But there are complications? Side effects?"

"Yes. The implant affected my nervous system in such a way that it remains oversensitive to light. If I'm exposed, there is severe pain that eventually leads to death."

Her expression turned solemn, fearful...fearful for him. "So you're not safe in the daytime. If someone tried to flush you out...you'd be at his mercy. They could storm the house, drag you out."

"I've taken measures against that." He gestured to her. "You're here to see that no one is able to do that." He wasn't prepared to tell her about the escape tunnel just yet.

"I'm not enough." She pushed to her feet. "You're too vulnerable in this house. If someone came after you...there are ways to draw you out."

"There are ways, yes." He stood, moved toward her. "No one is exempt from the dangers of everyday life. I live in a prison as it is, I refuse to resort to even more desperate measures. I won't run from him."

She stared up into his eyes, the emotion in hers something unfamiliar to him. "There's no way to undo this implant thing? They can't just take it out?"

"No. It's organic. It melded with my own tissue far more quickly than anyone had imagined. Attempting to remove it would result in far worse consequences."

"There's nothing they can do?"

Noah should simply say no, but that would be a lie. He didn't want any untruths between them. "Edgar Rothman has developed an injection that he believes would shut down the implant, but it carries a great risk as well. There is a very strong possibility that it would damage other areas of my brain. I will not take the risk."

She looked away from him and shook her head. "So this is forever?" Her gaze s.h.i.+fted back to his, demanding an answer.

His heart stumbled at the regret he saw in her eyes. But he did not want her pity for what he could not change. "Yes. It's forever."

She laid her hand on his arm. "Thank you for telling me. It means a great deal that you shared this with me. I prefer to be fully informed in order to be more prepared for an a.s.signment."

He looked down at her, his gaze leaving no room for speculation. "I didn't tell you this to better prepare you for your a.s.signment, Maggie Callahan," he said bluntly. "I shared this information with you because I want you to understand that I'm offering you no strings...no future...nothing beyond here and now." He reached up to touch her. Her breath caught. His fingertips traced the softness of her cheek. "I'm only offering this moment, if you wish to take it."

For the first time in more than five years, Noah had put his emotions on the line. She would never know the courage it took him to do this...to ask her to accept him as he was, for what he was, for just this one moment.

She backed away from his touch, her eyes going liquid with emotions, sympathy, compa.s.sion, pain, all the things he did not want to see.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Drake," she said, her words scarcely a whisper, but all too telling. "I can't do that."

And then she walked out, taking something he'd felt certain no longer functioned beyond the involuntary and purely physical...

His heart.

Chapter Nine.

It was almost dawn and still Drake had not come out of his room. Lowell had told her that it was Drake's custom to roam at night. It was his only freedom...his only means of escape. In the darkness he was untouchable.

Blue had thought that knowing all the facts would help her to fully understand and to focus better on the mission, but that was far from the case. Knowing the sacrifice he had made for his country and the pain he had suffered as a result only made her more aware of him as a man. She had certainly known her share of selfless males. Her father and brothers had all chosen the course of public service, putting themselves in the direct line of fire to safeguard their neighborhoods and cities. Any one of them would be willing to lay down his life for another. She felt the same way. Had proven her loyalty to the job on numerous occasions.

The reality that Noah Drake continued to suffer, watching the world from inside his prison as life pa.s.sed right by him, tugged at her heartstrings no matter how hard she tried to be objective. She told herself repeatedly that he was simply her a.s.signment and that she was here to do a job and walk away when it was over, but it didn't help. Somehow, from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him, something had s.h.i.+fted, some strange connection had fused. It was as if she'd known him for months instead of days. She couldn't explain it, she only knew that it was there.

In spite of his seeming nonchalance about his personal security, she wanted desperately to keep him safe...to make all this right for him. But he wanted more. If she was brutally honest with herself, she wanted more as well. That just couldn't happen. Her entire life she had prided herself in her work, focused completely on it. Sure she wanted the house in the suburbs and the pitter-patter of little feet...someday.

Just not today. She had dreams to fulfill. Goals to reach. She couldn't possibly give up everything and be happy in a remote place like St. Gabriel. Not that Drake had asked her to. In fact, he'd made it very clear that his proposition involved a physical relations.h.i.+p only. He hadn't had to say those precise words, she'd understood completely.

It had cost him dearly to go out on that emotional ledge and make the offer. She'd hurt him by declining...rejecting him. Blue closed her eyes and let go a heavy breath.

She didn't want to hurt him. But, either way, she would. Whatever decision she'd made would have ultimately meant heartache for both of them. When Lucas called with another a.s.signment she wouldn't be able to say no. How could a man like Drake be happy with a wife who rushed off to play hero more days out of a month than not?

Of course, he hadn't asked her to marry him. He'd asked her to have s.e.x with him.

She thought of the way his kisses had melted her insides...of how his body had felt against hers. It was definitely a tempting offer. But it would be a huge mistake for both of them. She would never be able to have a physical relations.h.i.+p with a man like Drake without falling in love with him. She knew that if nothing else. Not to mention the distraction it would lead to. She couldn't afford to be distracted. Until the threat was pinpointed and neutralized Drake's life depended upon her...as did her own.

No matter how she rationalized it, no matter that she knew she was doing the right thing, she had to make him understand that her decision had nothing to do with a lack of desire or with any lack on his part. She had to set the record straight.

Blue chafed her arms and s.h.i.+vered as she moved through the long entry hall and toward the stairs. The clock chimed then struck three times announcing the hour. She was tired, she needed a few minutes sleep, but she wasn't sure she could risk the downtime until Lowell was up and about. Surely she could make it three or four more hours.

The bloodred runner m.u.f.fled her steps as she climbed the sweeping staircase. She'd almost gotten used to the eerie gloom of the house. The dim lighting gave everything an other-worldly appearance 24/7. It reminded her of an old Hitchc.o.c.k film. There could be most anything lying in wait around the next corner.

She slowed, frowning, as she pa.s.sed Lowell's room. The door was closed but a bright glow filtered from beneath the door. She remembered his warning that even flashlights were forbidden. Apparently it was do as I say not do as I do because the light spilling from under his door was definitely brighter than the designated watts. She considered knocking, but then thought better of it. If he'd been reading, he might have simply fallen asleep with the extra light on. There'd been enough stress in the past couple of days, there was no point in making bad matters worse for no real reason since the light was confined to his private quarters.

She climbed the second staircase a bit more slowly, dread pooling in her stomach. Not that she had any misgivings about seeing Noah, to the contrary. She enjoyed seeing him a little too much. However, she did not look forward to the inevitable confrontation in regards to his earlier proposal.

Be that as it may, she had to do the right thing here. She wasn't a coward. She thought again about the old woman who'd warned her that something bad was coming. Blue had never been a superst.i.tious person, but every time she heard the jangle of those spirit bottles or thought of the old woman, she got the w.i.l.l.i.e.s and had the urge to cross herself. G.o.d, she was becoming her mother.

Overreacting was not her usual MO. Maybe the perpetual lack of light was wreaking havoc with her ability to keep her head on straight. Her hormones were definitely unbalanced.

She rapped on Drake's door and waited, straining to hear any sound. Nothing. She supposed he could be on the widow's walk. He seemed to really like that spot. Though she'd never been up there she was sure the view was spectacular.

No answer.

She knocked again, her instincts going on point.

Nothing.

If he'd sneaked out of the house without telling her...

She tried the k.n.o.b; it turned.

Holding her breath, she opened the door and pushed it inward. The room looked even darker than before. She wondered vaguely if there was a dimmer switch somewhere. Or maybe it had just felt lighter with his presence. She reached for the light stick beneath her blouse and gave it a little shake. The answering glow took her stress barometer down a degree or two.

The room smelled like him, she noted as she moved through the dark s.p.a.ce. Clean and masculine, but with an underlying mysteriousness that escaped her ability to describe-something leathery or earthy.

"Mr. Drake," she called out when she encountered no sign of him. She didn't want to be accused of snooping again.

No answer.

The instinct that he was not here nagged at her. His presence was somehow energized...magnetic, and she didn't feel that right now. There was a definite emptiness...a void that only he filled.

Blue sighed and silently railed at herself. She was falling for him already and they had only kissed. What was wrong with her? She just wasn't the type to swoon over a handsome man, not even a dark, mysterious one. Maybe her mother was right and her biological clock had kicked in, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her hormones in more ways than she knew. She needed that like another hole in the head. She was on a mission, there was no time for feminine weaknesses.

Right now she was a Specialist...being a woman wasn't supposed to be relevant.

"Mr. Drake?" she called again.

Not a sound.

Dammit all to h.e.l.l.

When he returned to the house, which he would have to do soon, she intended to give him a dressing down he wouldn't soon forget. She'd warned him about going off on his own without telling her. As he'd pointed out, however, he was pretty much safe in the dark. It wasn't like anyone could see him if he didn't want him or her to.

Blue froze in the center of the room.

For that matter, he could be watching her right this minute from just across the room. She turned slowly and squinted into the darkness. She could vaguely make out the shapes of furniture. The bed, a chair, an armoire. The sitting area she remembered from her previous visit. But all detail was obscured.

She was almost certain he wasn't in the room. Her instincts couldn't be that far off the mark. Well, she decided, if he could break her rules, she could break his. Maybe she would do a little snooping.

Moving soundlessly, she entered the bathroom, which was not quite so dark. As in her bathroom, there was a restored clawfoot tub, an ornate pedestal sink and then a more modern gla.s.s-encased shower. The other necessary fixtures were in keeping with the antiquity of the house. Smooth, cool tile covered the floor and part of the walls. It looked to be beige or off white. If there had ever been a window, there wasn't one now. His scent permeated the room. The fresh masculine soap and that other musky, earthy fragrance that was his alone.

The next door led into a large walk-in closet. Inside was a well-stocked wardrobe that was all black, shoes included. For blending in to the darkness, she presumed. At the end of the clothing racks was something unexpected, another door. She crossed to it and only hesitated a moment before opening it. She shouldn't...she knew she shouldn't. But she just couldn't help herself.

For a long time after entering the secret room she simply stood there and stared at what she saw. She'd noted the state-of-the-art ventilation system and the worktable. The faint smell was unmistakable, the supplies lying about irrefutable evidence, but it was the other, larger items that took her breath away-blew her mind.

Noah Drake was an artist.

Canvas after canvas, stacked three deep, sat on the floor along the walls. One was framed and hanging on the wall. The beauty of it drew her closer. It was a spectacular view of the ocean at night, most likely from the widow's walk. He'd captured the moonlight glinting on the softly rolling waves perfectly. The infinity of it, bordered on both sides by trees and mist, the stillness, the sense of waiting. It was beautiful, hauntingly so. And in all that beauty she saw the loneliness of the man who'd painted it. Though he never, for one second, allowed her to see or feel it in him, here it was, savage pain and longing captured with each stroke of the brush.

Everything inside her went very still as recognition slowly unfolded inside her.