Live and Let Love

  Willow had gotten what she wanted—her chance to prove that he was Jack—and fate had ripped her off and tripped her up. No chuff, no Jack. He could keep his cover, refuse to reveal himself. Just walk away as he’d planned. Let Willow think he was Con, a man so similar to Jack it was eerie.

  He wasn’t even tempted. He wanted her to know he was her husband. He reacted, gently put his fingers on her mouth, and shook his head. “Shhhh, Wills. It’s me. I can’t be Jack anymore. Jack’s dead; you know that. And apparently, so is my chuff.”

  Her eyes went wide and welled with tears. Of joy, he hoped.

  She smiled up at him with relief. “It’s really you?”

  He nodded.

  “I knew all along. You could never fool me, tiger. Never.”

  “You doubted for a second there, when you didn’t hear the chuff. Admit it.”

  “Never.” She brought his face to hers and kissed him. “I love you. Don’t leave me, Jack. Take me with you wherever you’re going next. We’ll be whoever we have to be.”

  He kissed her lightly. How could he leave her?

  “I love you, too, Wills.” His voice broke as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I always will.”

  “Stay the night, at least,” she said as she caressed his cheek.

  * * *

  Willow wrapped herself around Jack. There was no chance of escaping, or refusing her request. Not that he had any will to leave her.

  Jack lay back on the bed, thinking hard. He’d carefully staged the explosion that would take place in the morning to look like an accident. Willow had never known he was an assassin, just that he was a spy. There was no reason for her to connect the explosion and Kennett’s death with him. He stared at her, drinking in the sight of her and her blissful expression. He had an audacious plan. But would she go for it?

  “No recriminations?” he asked, marveling at her ability to forgive. If she’d left him for two years, he’d damn well expect an explanation, at the very least. “You’re not mad?”

  “No. You’re back. That’s all that matters.” She ran her fingers along his chest. “I may not like the business you’re in, but I understand the need for secrecy. I understand, too, that sometimes you have to do things that hurt other people, for the good of all. Sometimes you even have to hurt me.” She kissed his shoulder.

  He cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes, wanting her to know he hadn’t planned this. He would never have agreed to intentionally hurt her the way he’d ended up doing. “It wasn’t like that, Wills. I wouldn’t have done this to you on purpose. After I was blown up, things evolved. Some locals took me in. They knew enough to hide me from the drug lords we’d been after. They smuggled me out to the country.

  “No one thought I’d live. I was unconscious and delirious for weeks. I was in a coma for several more. Even the Agency and Emmett didn’t know I was alive or where I was.”

  “But they told me you were dead. Did they believe that?”

  Jack sighed. “They did that to protect both of us. The operation had gone bad. They had no idea how much the drug lords knew or who was feeding them intel.

  “If I was still alive somewhere, the fewer people who suspected it the better. Emmett told me later no one in NCS believed I could have survived that blast, especially given Drew’s eyewitness account.

  “Even my best friend thought I was gone.”

  “Oh, baby. What you’ve been through.” She rested her head on his shoulder and stroked his chest with soothing, featherlight stokes, massaging the scars the plastic surgeon had been unable to fix.

  Her sympathy almost broke him completely. “By the time I recovered enough to know I was going to live, I was a wreck. And you’d already buried me and moved on—”

  “I never moved on.” Her hand stilled on his chest.

  He covered it with his and squeezed it. “I know. NCS and I couldn’t resist the cover of death. I thought you’d have a better life without me in it. I know you never agreed with all the things I did as a spy.”

  “Jack, how could you think that?” She lightly kissed his shoulder. “My life is empty without you.”

  He smiled at her. If she knew the whole truth …

  “The past really doesn’t matter to me. You’re back now with a new nose and a sexy accent that you never break out of. But I do miss the chuff.” She gave him a playful smile.

  “Let’s hope the next time I’m blown up it comes back.” He stroked her cheek.

  “Let’s hope there isn’t a next time. I can live without it as long as I have you.” She studied him. “How do you keep your accent? You can talk to me in your regular way now; no one will hear and I’m not going to tell.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. I have Foreign Accent Syndrome. It’s a side effect of the injury.”

  She frowned. “Drew was right, then,” she whispered, half to herself. “You’ll never sound like my Jack again?”

  “No. Think you can live with that?”

  She grinned. “If I have to.” She paused. “Jack, why did you come back? What’s your mission here?”

  “To see you and make sure you’re safe,” he said without hesitating. Well, it was the truth. The partial truth.

  Her eyes misted. “But you can’t stay.”

  “Not as myself.” He sighed. “And I can’t take you away from this life. I’ve seen how happy you are here.” He stroked her hair. “I have a crazy idea, though. How would you like to be part of Aldo’s extended family?”

  She grinned. “What are you saying?”

  He propped up on one elbow and stared down at her. She was beautiful in more ways than he deserved. “I was thinking you and Con could have a thing. A serious thing that could eventually end in marriage.”

  “That is the lamest marriage proposal I’ve ever had.” Then she laughed. “What would Emmett and NCS think of that?”

  “I don’t give a damn. They’d just have to live with it.”

  She laughed.

  “Well?” he asked, knowing he could hurt her again if she ever found out the truth about him but unable to stop himself. “Will you marry Con someday?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry Con. Will that make me a bigamist?”

  “Not in the eyes of the law. I’m officially dead.” He leaned down and kissed her before sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed. Where were his pants?

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “I have a few things to take care of.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. The sooner, the better. Trust me.”

  “You mean you have to get Emmett’s blessing?” She eyed him cautiously.

  “Something like that. It’s already six in the morning in Virginia. Emmett will be up and about.”

  “You can’t do it from here?”

  “No, baby.” He brushed her lips with a light kiss. “And we don’t want to scandalize Orchard Bluff by broadcasting our affair, either. I need some time to clear Con’s good name.” And blow the Rooster to bits without making Willow the least bit suspicious.

  She shook her head. “This is a ridiculous situation.” She sounded totally happy.

  “Yeah, it is. Isn’t it great?”

  She laughed. “You are coming back? Promise not to leave without telling me?”

  “No way. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”

  * * *

  By seven, Willow was up, showered, breakfasted, dressed, and ready to head downstairs to start making caramel. Spookie was back to her lively self. Jack was back.

  Jack is back!

  Even with the added complications of this new cover, Willow would have to assume as Con’s future wife, her world was perfect and sweet.

  She hummed to herself as she grabbed a clean apron from the dryer and tied it around her waist. When will we be able to share the details?

  She wanted to tell Drew and Staci. Was convinced that they had to. Staci deserved to be free of her guilt and Drew would be ecstatic.

&nbs
p; In time, Willow told herself. Give Jack a little time to work out the details. She thought about Emmett Nelson and frowned. That liar.

  Her cell phone vibrated. As she grabbed it from the counter her heart danced with hope that Jack was calling. She wanted to trust him, but part of her feared he’d run out on her. There was something he was hiding from her. Something that made him uneasy.

  It was a text from her mother. Be extra careful today. I still have the bad feeling. And it’s getting worse.

  Willow had been so happy, she hadn’t felt any foreboding. Had glossed over it. But now that her mom had prompted her …

  No. It couldn’t be. Her mom was probably reacting to Jack. Both Willow and her mom had to be. Still, she’d have to warn him and keep an eye on him, just to be on the safe side.

  She texted her mom back, saying she’d be on her guard. The phone rang in her hand before she could put it down. She glanced at the screen. Still not Jack. Shane.

  Her heart fell. She didn’t want to talk to Shane, of all people. But she probably owed it to him to pick up and see if he sounded okay.

  “Willow,” he said when she answered. “I’m calling to apologize. I can’t believe I crapped out on you again last night. For the second date in a row. I’m usually not such a lightweight. The accident’s affecting me worse than I thought.” He sounded very much alive and okay.

  Which was a big relief. If she’d killed him or hurt him in some permanent way she’d never forgive herself. She was feeling guilty enough as it was about drugging him. At least his allergies shouldn’t be bothering him.

  Small mercies. And a lot of justifying going on by her.

  “There’s no need to apologize.” There really wasn’t, especially given that she was the guilty party.

  “To be honest, I’m not just calling to beg your forgiveness. I have a situation here and hoped you could help me out. You’re the first person I thought of.

  “Someone dumped off a litter of kittens last night. I found them in a sack at the end of my driveway this morning.”

  “What!” Now she was indignant. “Kittens?”

  “Yeah, I know. Terrible. People do horrible, cruel things. They’re not even weaned and it was a cold night last night, too. They could’ve frozen to death.”

  “Oh no. How are they?” Now she was mad and indignant, and worried, too. Who would harm kittens? Why didn’t people think to find them good homes? People who couldn’t be bothered made her sick.

  He paused. “They’re okay.” Hesitation echoed in his voice. “I’ve done my best for them. I made them a bed and put them in the apple shed where they’ll be warm. But I have a mean old tom around. I can’t keep them.

  “If I don’t watch them every minute, he’s bound to get them. And with my head the way it’s been the last few days, I’m not the best guy to guard them, nurse them into full health, and find them homes right now.

  “I was hoping you could take them. Just until the weekend when the crowds show up. I’m sure I could find them good homes then.”

  She was already reaching for her coat. “I’ll be right over.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jack watched Kennett’s apple barn and house from a hidden location in the orchard across the street a safe distance away. If the Rooster followed his morning routine, any minute now he’d come out of the house and head to the barn. He’d open the old-fashioned till Grant had kept for atmosphere as much as to store business proceeds.

  That one small action would set off an explosive that would make it appear as if the space heater in the apple barn had ignited some gas Kennett kept there and kaboom! Horrible SMASH assassin dead.

  When the fire marshal did his official inspection, he’d discover Kennett’s secret pesticides had exploded. Grant Cooper’s good name would be ruined forever. But at least his body would be found.

  And then Con and Willow could live happily ever after. After that scandal over Kennett, Con would look damn good by comparison.

  Jack rocked back on his heels. He didn’t take ending a life lightly. Right now he didn’t look at it as ending Kennett’s. He preferred to think of the lives he was ultimately saving.

  Everything was going to plan. Until Willow’s car came into view and he heard the crunch of gravel as she turned up Kennett’s driveway.

  Jack’s heart stopped. This didn’t feel right. What was Willow doing at Kennett’s so early in the morning? Especially after last night.

  Willow jumped out of her car just as Kennett stepped out from his house. He grabbed Willow and gave her a hug as Jack’s worry grew and his rage kicked in. Kennett said something to Willow. Jack had a CIA-grade pair of listening ears, earpieces that magnified sound from yards away, but he still couldn’t pick up what Willow and Kennett were saying to each other. Instead, he picked up an earsplitting buzz.

  Kennett, that suspicious bastard, was no doubt jamming them. Kennett slid his arm around Willow’s shoulder and guided her toward the apple shed.

  Shit.

  Jack hit the kill switch on his explosive device. He’d never take a chance with Willow’s life. He wouldn’t be the guy who blew her up. Exploded her world with his lovemaking, sure, but not the other.

  Jack’s spy senses were on high alert. Something felt terribly wrong. He jumped out of the squat he was in and took off at a run toward the barn.

  * * *

  Inside, the barn was dimly lit and the Sense was going crazy inside Willow in a way it never had before. And yet everything seemed calm and safe.

  Jack.

  She couldn’t help worrying about him, and yet this felt different. It felt personal. That was ridiculous. Unless, of course, Shane really was a dangerous enemy spy. Jack had assured her that his only mission here was to see her and make sure she was safe. But from what? Or who? She had to get the kittens and get out of here.

  “Where are they?” she asked as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She didn’t see any kittens or hear any mewing.

  Shane took her arm. “This way. Behind the till, where I could watch them.”

  * * *

  Jack peeked into the apple barn through a crack in the door as Kennett led Willow toward the trapdoor of the bomb shelter.

  Damn. Jack couldn’t let Kennett get Willow down there. That would be certain death. If Kennett was taking Willow to his operation headquarters, it only meant one thing—he was going to kill her. Maybe torture her first for intel. Or use her to draw Jack out. Then stash her in the freezer with Grant Cooper.

  Jack pushed the apple-shed door open just enough to get the barrel of his gun through. He drew a bead on Kennett. This was close range for Jack and he was a damn good shot. Totally precise. At this distance there was no need for calculations or worrying about wind speed, curvature of the Earth, any of those complications of a long-range shot.

  It should have been an easy kill. Except for Willow standing too near Kennett for Jack’s comfort. If she’d been a stranger, he could have hit his shot without a worry. But this was a bit like a surgeon operating on his own wife or child.

  And then there was the matter of escaping without Willow seeing him.

  As Jack weighed his options he heard barking and the heavy pounding of large dogs racing toward him. He looked over his shoulder just in time. Buddy and Duke were barreling toward him, teeth bared and looking decidedly unfriendly and out for blood. Jack knew well-trained dogs when he saw them. Without Willow with him or unless Kennett called them off, they were going to eat Jack alive. And alert Kennett to his presence.

  He had no choice. Cursing to himself, he slid into the barn and slammed the door behind him just as Buddy and Duke pounded against it, barking and sounding as if they’d like to take a bite out of it and wouldn’t stop their battering until they broke in and finished Jack off. So this was how they showed their gratitude for the sexual frustration he’d given them?

  Come on, boys. I gave you a merry chase. Be good sports.

  Kennett looked up at Jack, pushed Willow behi
nd him, and drew a pistol. Jack pointed his Beretta M9 back. Showdown at the apple barn. It didn’t quite have the ring of the OK Corral.

  In that instant, Jack knew he should shoot Kennett. He would have if Willow hadn’t been behind Kennett. In this case, putting her directly behind him was as effective as using her as a shield. Jack couldn’t shoot Kennett without risking an unintentional Quigley, killing two with one bullet.

  Kennett held his gun in one hand and the other arm out to keep Willow behind him, ostensibly out of danger. “Stay behind me, Willow. I’ll protect you.” Kennett’s voice was as smooth as the polished surface of a perfect Red Delicious apple. “Finally come to finish the job? Didn’t count on my dogs? That’s poor planning for such a reputed assassin. I expected better from you. RIOT only hires the best.”

  “What?” Willow peered around Kennett’s shoulder, eyes wide. “Assassin,” she whispered. “RIOT?”

  Jack cursed beneath his breath.

  Kennett barked a command to his dogs. The assault on the shed door stopped and silence echoed in the room. Still in a protective stance, he stepped back into Willow. “That man is a dangerous assassin sent to kill me. Isn’t that right, Con?”

  Willow shook her head. “No! Why?”

  “I work for the CIA,” Kennett said. “I’ve been deep undercover infiltrating a dangerous terrorist cell that’s planning to bomb an important summit meeting.”

  “A terrorist cell here? In Orchard Bluff?” Willow sounded as completely surprised as she should have.

  She was definitely playing along, playing the innocent. But she was looking at Jack and that gun of his with terror in her eyes.

  “What better place? They’ve been passing explosives through here from Canada.” Like the pro he was, he kept his gun precisely aimed at Jack. If Kennett fired, Jack was dead on contact.

  Jack was busily planning his own shot and method of attack and escape.

  Willow looked stunned. Jack couldn’t tell how much she believed Kennett.

  “That man”—Kennett pointed at Jack—“works for the enemy and has been assigned to kill me.” He laughed confidently and grinned.

  Kennett wasn’t at all scared. He was high on the adrenaline of the situation. So was Jack, but he had Willow to worry about and that complicated things.