Countdown

  “Scotland,” Eve repeated. “Joe was guessing Italy.”

  “So was I. At the moment Trevor prefers to handle his affairs at a distance. It seems Italy is too hot to be comfortable for him.”

  “I can believe that.” Eve paused. “Trevor may be hot in other countries besides Italy. Joe sent out inquiries to Scotland Yard and Interpol to check and see what Trevor’s been up to lately.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. It came back classified information.”

  She frowned. “What the devil does that mean?”

  “Joe doesn’t know. Scotland Yard, maybe. But Interpol has a muzzle too? It may mean he’s messing around in something extremely ugly, or stepping on someone’s toes who has the power to black out the official information networks. Either way it makes me uneasy.”

  It made Jane uneasy too. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It makes enough sense to send Joe digging like a ferret to get around that block. And it makes enough sense for you to get out of there and come home.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Jane—”

  “I don’t feel threatened. Trevor has this place surrounded by security guards.”

  “And who’s going to protect you from Trevor?”

  “I can protect myself.” She drew a deep breath. “And I need to stay here. I’m finding out what I need to know. Tell Joe to check on a Rand Grozak. Trevor says he’s the man who ordered Leonard to grab me in that alley.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Maybe Cira’s gold. Oh, I don’t know. That’s why I have to stay for a few days.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “It’s going to be okay. I’ll call you every day.”

  “You’d better.” She paused. “MacDuff’s Run?”

  “It’s a castle on the coast. But don’t you dare launch an attack. As I said, I’m perfectly safe.”

  “Bullshit. But we won’t make a move unless you skip checking in with us one day.”

  “It won’t happen. Bye, Eve.”

  “Keep safe.” Eve hung up.

  Keep safe. Jane didn’t feel safe. She felt alone and disconnected from the two people she loved most in the world. Hearing Eve’s voice had warmed her, but it had also emphasized her remoteness from them.

  Stop whining. She had a job to do. It wasn’t as if she was surrounded by vampires. Bartlett was here, Brenner didn’t seem intimidating, and Mario was very sweet. MacDuff was fairly forbidding, but he obviously intended to ignore her unless he decided she was going to cause trouble. If there was a vampire, it was Trevor. Yes, she could see that comparison. He’d managed to hold her imagination captive and mesmerize her for four years.

  And that was too damn long.

  Trevor’s back at MacDuff’s Run,” Panger said when Grozak answered the phone. “He arrived late today with Bartlett, Brenner, and a woman.”

  Shit. “A young woman?”

  “Early twenties. Good-looking. Reddish-brown hair. You know her?”

  He cursed. “Jane MacGuire. I told that idiot Leonard that he was going to push too hard. He’s been scurrying around trying to protect his ass since he killed Fitzgerald. Damn fool panicked last night and killed Donnell too. It triggered Trevor to make a move.”

  “So what do I do?”

  He thought about it. “I can’t have Leonard picked up by the police, and he’s made one mistake too many. Get rid of him.”

  “You want me to stop watching the castle?”

  “If you’re not as much of a fool as Leonard, it won’t take you long.”

  “What about Wharton?”

  “It’s up to you. He’s Leonard’s partner but I doubt if he’s going to object to finding a new one. If he gets in your way, I won’t give you an argument if you dispose of him. Then you can come back and watch and wait. That’s all the hell you’re doing anyway.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. It might not be too bad. Jane MacGuire was tucked under Trevor’s wing, but at least she didn’t have Joe Quinn to protect her. Grozak had his own men stationed around MacDuff’s Run and an opportunity might present itself to get the girl.

  No, what was he thinking? Fools and weaklings relied on chance. He’d think and plan and make his own opportunity. If he couldn’t make a direct assault on the woman, then he’d circle around and try to come at Trevor from another angle.

  But Reilly wasn’t going to see it that way. He was only interested in getting the gold and Jane MacGuire. Crazy bastard. He sat there in his compound fat and arrogant as a Siamese cat giving orders and telling Grozak what to do.

  And he had to do it, dammit.

  He glanced at the calendar on his desk. December 8. Fourteen days left until the deadline Reilly had given him of December 22. Could he delay the operation if Reilly didn’t come through on time?

  No, everything was in motion. Bribes in place. The explosives on their way from the Middle East. It was his big chance and he’d be damned if he’d let it slip through his fingers. Reilly had told Grozak outright that if he couldn’t produce he’d deal with Trevor and leave Grozak with nothing.

  It wasn’t going to happen. Everyone had a weak spot, and Reilly’s was his love of power and his obsession with Cira’s gold. If Grozak could tap those weaknesses, then he’d be the one with power over Reilly.

  But to do it he had to have Jane MacGuire.

  Thank God, he had an alternate plan in mind to pull the rug out from under Trevor. But he was done with using incompetents like Leonard. He needed someone who had nerve, someone with brains enough to follow orders.

  Wickman. He’d never met a colder human being, and Wickman would do anything if the price was right. Grozak would make sure it was. He had no choice with Reilly breathing down his neck.

  Time was running out.

  Did you enjoy the casserole?”

  Jane turned away from laughing at something Mario had said to see Trevor’s gaze on her. He had been watching her all through the meal, she thought in exasperation. Every time she’d looked up she’d encountered that critical stare. It was like being under a microscope.

  “What’s not to like? It was very tasty,” she said as she leaned back in her chair. “Who cooked it?”

  “I did.” Brenner grinned. “My talents as a cook have grown by leaps and bounds since I took this job. Trevor never mentioned that as part of the job description.” He glanced slyly at Trevor. “Maybe I’ve gotten too good. I’ve been tempted to serve up a little snake stew on my next cook day.”

  “You’ll get no quarrel from me,” Trevor said. “As long as you eat it too. I don’t think you will. As I recall, when there were times we had nothing to eat in Colombia but what we could hunt and gather, I was able to stomach the more exotic fare better than you.” He smiled. “Do you remember when García brought in that python?”

  Brenner made a face. “I could have eaten it, but when I saw what was in its stomach I decided I wasn’t that hungry.”

  There was a bond of companionship between the two men that was almost visible, Jane thought. She had never seen this side of Trevor. He seemed less guarded. Younger . . .

  “I don’t think that’s a discussion for the dinner table,” Mario said with a frown. “Jane will think we’re barbarians.”

  “And we aren’t?” Trevor asked with lifted brows. “You and Bartlett are civilized, but Brenner and I have a tendency to slip back into the jungle occasionally.” But he nodded and said to Jane, “He’s absolutely right. My apologies if our crudeness offended you.”

  “You didn’t offend me.”

  Trevor turned to Mario with a smile. “You see? You didn’t need to be defensive. She’s no delicate flower.”

  “But she’s a lady.” Mario was still frowning. “And she should be treated with respect.”

  Trevor’s smile faded. “Are you telling me how to treat our guest, Mario?”

  “I’ll get the coffee,” Brenner said as he quickly got to his feet. “No dessert, but there’s a
cheese tray. Come help me bring it in, Bartlett.”

  Bartlett’s glance went from Trevor to Mario. “Maybe I should stay and—” Then he shrugged, rose to his feet, and followed Brenner from the room.

  “You didn’t answer me, Mario,” Trevor said.

  Mario stiffened as he caught the underlying menace beneath the softness in Trevor’s voice. The color mantled his cheeks and he lifted his chin. “It wasn’t right.”

  He was afraid of Trevor, Jane realized. And why not? In that moment Trevor was intimidating as hell. But, scared or not, Mario was still sticking to his guns, and Trevor was obviously in no mood to be tolerant. “I don’t want coffee.” She pushed back her chair. “You promised to show me where you work, Mario.”

  Mario eagerly grasped at the rope she’d thrown him. “Of course. At once.” He jumped to his feet. “It’s time I got back to work anyway.”

  “Yes, it is,” Trevor said. “So you can show Jane your workroom later. Perhaps she’ll change her mind and stay with us and have her coffee. We don’t want you distracted.” He glanced at Jane. “And she’s definitely a distraction.”

  Mario gazed at her uncertainly. “But she wanted to—”

  “She wouldn’t want to interfere with your work.” Trevor looked at her. “Would you, Jane?”

  It was clear he didn’t want her to go with Mario and was using Mario’s nervousness as leverage to ensure she didn’t. And it was going to work, dammit. She wasn’t going to cause Mario trouble just because she was irritated with Trevor and wanted to make a gesture. She slowly sat back down. “No, maybe I will have that coffee.” She smiled warmly at Mario. “You go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Regret and relief fought for dominance on Mario’s face. “It will be my pleasure to show you my work at any time. Perhaps tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “Tomorrow. No perhaps about it.”

  He smiled brilliantly before turning and leaving the room.

  She stood up the moment he was out of sight. “I’m out of here.”

  “No coffee?”

  “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.” She glared at him. “Are you proud of yourself?”

  “Not particularly. It was too easy.”

  “Because you’re a bully.”

  “Not usually. I was annoyed. I watched you murmuring and giggling with him all through dinner and it had its effect. I had it pretty well under control until he decided to lecture me.”

  “Mario’s only a kid. He’s no match for you.”

  “He’s older than you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “That he’s soft and full of dreams.” He met her gaze. “And some of those dreams are of Cira. If you’re looking for someone at MacDuff’s Run who won’t compare you to Cira, come to me.”

  “Bull. You can’t separate the two of us in your mind.”

  He shook his head. “I never said that. You’re the one who jumped to conclusions. From the moment I saw you I knew exactly who and what you were to me.” He paused. “And it wasn’t Cira.”

  Heat tingled through her, catching her unaware. Christ, she didn’t want this response. It made her feel confused and weak. She’d been angry only a moment ago and now she was— She was still angry, dammit. “You weren’t fair. Mario’s like a friendly puppy.”

  “I know, and you like puppies.” His lips twisted. “Maybe that’s my problem. I’ve never resembled a puppy in my life.” He got up. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it right with Mario. It was only a temporary blowup. I like the kid.”

  “You didn’t behave like it.”

  “Actually, I did. I was very restrained for the way I was feeling. But if I upset you, I should probably make amends. If you want to go running after Mario and soothe his feelings, I won’t stop you.”

  “What a sacrifice.”

  “You have no idea.” He stood looking at her. “I suppose this isn’t the moment to ask you to go to bed with me?”

  She stiffened in shock. “What?”

  “I didn’t think so.” He turned and headed for the door. “It’s too soon and you’re mad as hell at me. But I thought I’d throw it out there and let you become accustomed to the idea that it was coming. I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll leave and get to it.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Since I’m ridding you of my presence, there’s no reason that you can’t stay and have your coffee. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She couldn’t find the words to speak. She could only stare after him with her mind and emotions in chaos.

  “Well, evidently we took long enough to resolve the situation,” Bartlett said as he came in carrying a platter of cheese. “I trust there was no violence?”

  “No,” she said absently. “Mario went up to work.”

  “Very wise. Young men tend to want to challenge all comers, but I thought Mario was smarter than to do it with Trevor.”

  “Mario’s a sweet boy.”

  “If he was a boy, Trevor would have less trouble with him.” He put the platter down on the table. “I’ll go see what’s keeping Brenner with the coffee. I thought he was right behind me.”

  “Not for me. I don’t want anything.” She turned toward the door. “I think I’ll go to my room. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yes, it has. Perhaps that would be best. Sleep brings a clear head.”

  “My head is clear, Bartlett.” She was lying. Her thoughts were in a turmoil and she couldn’t get the memory of Trevor’s words out of her mind. Admit it, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Since the moment she had seen him outside the dorm, the sexual tension had been growing, developing, but she’d tried to ignore it. There was no ignoring it now that he had spoken that one sentence. It was there before her and she had to confront it and come to terms with it.

  “I’m glad,” Bartlett said gently. “You look a bit disturbed. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She forced a smile as she started for the door. “Thank you. Good night, Bartlett.”

  “Pleasant dreams.”

  The pleasantest prospect she could have would be no dreams at all. Not of Cira and her damned run through that tunnel. And not of Trevor, who had dominated too much of her thoughts since he had entered her life four years ago.

  Jesus, she had worked so hard to block him out of her memory. When that failed, she had used the memory, lived with it, in an attempt to render it powerless. She had thought she’d succeeded.

  The hell she had. He hadn’t even touched her and her body was tingling, alive, needing. . . .

  No, she didn’t need him. She wouldn’t need him. The word indicated weakness, and she wasn’t weak. She didn’t need anyone.

  She started to climb the stairs. She’d go to her room and take advantage of that hot shower Bartlett had waxed eloquent about. Then she’d call Eve and talk to her and gradually this turmoil would lessen or vanish entirely.

  She was lying to herself. It would take more than a chat with the person she loved the most to quiet this disturbance. She’d have to do what she always did with a problem. She’d have to face it, make it her own, and then find a way to rid herself of it.

  I’ve brought your coffee, Trevor,” Bartlett said as he opened the library door. “Someone has to drink it after Brenner went to the trouble of making it. He gets a bit touchy.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Trevor watched Bartlett put a tray on the desk. “Two cups?”

  “I didn’t get mine either. We were all too busy tiptoeing around trying to avoid your bad manners.” He poured coffee into the cups. “That display wasn’t worthy of you.”

  “I’ve had my fill of lectures tonight, Bartlett.”

  “He only wanted to impress her. Any other time you’d have ignored it. He’s not in your league.”

  “I know that.” He sipped his coffee. “Or I would have been a hell of a lot harder on him. I was in a lousy mood.”

  Bartlett nodded. “The green-eyed monster. It was
refreshing to see you raked over the coals. I was very amused.”

  “I’m sure you were. Why don’t you get out of here? Venable called while I was at dinner and I have to return his call.”

  “After I finish my coffee.” Bartlett leaned back in his chair. “You handled the situation very clumsily. Jane was bound to be defensive of him. It’s her nature.”

  “Now I have to take advice from a man who’s been divorced three times? Your qualifications suck, Bartlett.”

  “I may not have been able to keep a woman but I was always able to acquire them.”

  “I don’t want to ‘acquire’ Jane. When have you ever known me to want that kind of baggage?”

  “Well, I’m sure lust figures significantly in your attitude. After four years of anticipation, it’s quite reasonable.”

  “You’re off the track, Bartlett.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, I know you’ve had other women since you left Herculaneum. I really liked that Laura person. She reminded me of my—”

  “Out.”

  He smiled and finished his coffee. “I’m going. I just wished to give you the benefit of my vast experience. You proved you needed it tonight. Considering what a smooth operator you are, it surprised me. I was feeling wonderfully superior until I began to feel sorry for Jane.”

  “She can take care of herself.” Trevor’s lips twisted. “Or are you saying she’s still too young to know what she wants? That she’d be better off with some idealistic kid like Mario?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He stood up. “But I’ve seen you when you’re on the attack. Once you make up your mind you don’t stop. You have years and years of experience over Jane, and that could—”

  “I’m thirty-four,” he said through his teeth. “I’m not Methuselah.”

  Bartlett chuckled. “I thought that would prick you. I’ll leave now.”

  “Bastard.”

  “You deserved it for making an ass of yourself at dinner. I enjoy my meals, and anything that interferes with my digestion is in danger of annihilation.” He headed for the door. “Remember that when you’re tempted to roast any other younger men with your bad temper.”