Chapter Twenty-Six

Dawn came with bright streaks of brilliant sunshine and a rosy glow to the sky. Andrea watched the sunrise with joy bubbling in her heart. Her muscles ached and she could use a few hours of sleep, but she’d never felt so happy to be alive.

Mitch didn’t show up in the exercise room in person, but he was there with her regardless. Memories of the night before flowed continually in her brain. And as she walked the treadmill, she figured out the biggest different between him and her brothers. Mitch was secure in his masculinity. He didn’t need to brag or boast to boost his ego. He didn’t need to compete with other men to make himself feel bigger or better. He was comfortable with his maleness. He knew he was virile and strong. He knew he could satisfy a woman. He wasn’t an insecure boy in an adult’s body; he was a man.

She smiled. Oh, yes. A man. All man. And, for now, all hers.

A shadow entered her mind and threatened her happiness for a second, but she pushed it away and refused to think about the future. For now. For however long it lasted, she wanted him in her life. Wanted him making love to her, brightening her days and nights.

There was no use denying that losing him when this was over would rip her soul to shreds. She’d grown to care deeply. Too deeply. Being with him was more about the man than any need for sex.

The word love wavered in the back of her consciousness. Was that what was happening to her? Was she falling in love? She fought the idea. No. Love was dangerous. Maybe she could call her feelings something else that didn’t make her feel so scared.

Her heart told her there was no other name. This feeling was love.

The words in Karli’s book swam through her mind. Trust your heart.

Karli had trusted her heart when she became involved with Dillon. Had that been smart? The jury was still out on how that situation would end up, but at least Karli had been brave enough to reach for what she wanted.

Andrea closed her eyes and swallowed a wave of despair. She’d never loved anyone because she’d never trusted anyone, maybe not even herself. Was it too late to try? Would it be worth the risk?

If only trusting her heart could be that easy. If only one person could decide the fate of two. If only she could make Mitch return her feelings simply by dropping her shields and saying three little words.

She increased the speed of the machine and chanted silently as she finished her workout. Love him for now. Love him for now. Love him for now.

Andrea returned to her cabin, glad Fran was taking her day off and she was free to shower instead of soaking in a tub. She stepped under the hot spray and sighed in contentment. Later, refreshed and cheerful, she hummed the melody of an old love song while she dressed for breakfast. Suddenly, everything seemed so simple and clear that she laughed aloud. Why continue agonizing over what she should say or do? She loved Mitch. She had to believe he could be trusted with her heart, and she couldn’t be a coward, waiting for him to say the words first. The next time they were alone together, she had to not only express her love physically but also speak honestly about her feelings.

The decision removed a terrible weight from her shoulders. She loved Mitch, and something deep inside told her he loved her back.

Her mind raced ahead, weighing different scenarios of how she should say the words. Should she sit him down for a serious discussion, tread lightly, phrasing it as a joke, or whisper in his ear after they’d made love? None of those seemed right. Maybe she’d put her arms around his neck, look into his eyes, and simply say, “Mitch Weaver, I, Andrea Carnegie, love you.”

As she was slipping on her shoes, someone knocked on the door.

“It’s me.”

Hearing Mitch’s voice, her heart lifted and flew like a freed birthday balloon.

He stepped into the suite with a distant look on his face and a going-to-the-gallows slowness to his gait. Warning bells jangled in her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’m just going to give it to you straight.” The air in the room suddenly thickened. “I just spoke with Dillon. He called Mr. Brisbin late last night and asked that you be removed from the case.”

Her insides twisted into a knot. “Removed? Why? What did I do wrong? Why now? We’re getting close to breaking this thing open. I can feel it in my bones.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. Spoke in a low tone that seemed heavy with dread. “The snake and the rat spooked him. He doesn’t want you in danger any longer, feels we should approach the problem from a different angle.”

“He wants to give up?”

“No. He wants to change tactics. A wise person knows when to fold their cards and go home, knows when the approach they’re using isn’t going to succeed.”

She took a deep breath, told herself this wasn’t happening. It had to be a mistake. “He seemed okay with continuing as we were when we spoke yesterday afternoon.”

“He was at the time. He called me in to discuss possibilities and options, but said he hadn’t made a decision.”

His words registered, and anger heated her blood. She pinned him with a glare. “Are you telling me you knew he was thinking of this yesterday? That you knew, but you didn’t say one word about it to me last night?”

He averted his gaze, shifted his weight as if ill at ease. “It wasn’t definite. I selfishly wanted us to have one last night together.”

The full meaning of Dillon’s decision hit her. Mitch was telling her to pack it in. The assignment was over. They were over. Last night had been the grand finale, and now she and Mitch were going to part.

Her stomach went into a free fall. She grasped at straws in her mind, looking for a logical explanation. Looking for an anchor in a mental sea of chaos. Her heart wanted to try to save the relationship, but her brain vetoed a potentially embarrassing emotional plea. Logic took over, told her to deal with her heartbreak later and, for the moment, focus on her career.

“Taking me off the job when I haven’t done anything wrong is unfair. Did you tell him he’s wrong, that having me stand in for Karli is the best approach?”

“No. I agreed with his decision. Your safety should be our main concern and of the utmost importance.” His voice was strained. “We have a lot of data and physical objects that might lead to a breakthrough clue. We’ll find the person who threatened Karli some other way, Andrea. Having you removed from the case is for the best.”

All her brain registered was his first words. “You agreed?” His betrayal stung like a brutal slap in the face. “I thought you’d be on my side, stand up for me, fight for me to stay, tell them I’m competent and can handle the danger.”

He shook his head, put his hands on her shoulders, and seemed to be searching her eyes. “Your qualifications are outside the equation. I want you alive and safe. I’ll admit my emotions are in play. I’m probably being influenced by the fact that I care for you.”

She pulled away from him. Let the rage swirling inside her spill into her voice. “Don’t use that line on me. If you truly cared for me, you’d help me make this assignment a success, not send me back to Boston with egg smeared on my face.”

“Please listen to me, Andrea. No one is going to blame you, or think less of you, because this approach to the threats didn’t work. If we could control everything that happens and make people act the way we want them to, then sure, you could be held responsible. But you can’t make the gunman try again, or order him to leave substantial clues. Don’t beat yourself up for not being master of the universe.”

“We could have set a trap, like I wanted to all along.”

“Maybe. But suppose we did, and things went to hell. Suppose you were hurt or killed.”

Her words came out laced with venom. “Suppose I wasn’t.”

“Okay, suppose you were safe, but we killed the shooter in the process. The plan still wouldn’t be a success. I don’t believe we’re dealing with a lone wolf. He probably has superiors, and we need to get them, too.”

“I’m willing to take the chance and try.”

“Are you really ready to die just to prove you’re right? To satisfy your relentless need to achieve and win?” When she just glared at him, he shook his head and went on. “I don’t understand you or this reckless streak that you want to embrace. Life is precious, yet you seem to have no regard for your mortality. I can’t even see why you want this job. I don’t believe being one of Brisbin’s Rangers is who you really are.”

Her heart turned to brittle ice. For years now, she’d spent every minute concentrating on her goal of becoming a Ranger. It was what she wanted to be, how she saw herself. What would she do if this botched assignment killed her chances, took away her dream, ruined the image she’d pictured of her future? She’d be lost. And this man and his betrayal would be responsible.

“You have no idea who I really am. I can take care of myself and worry about my own life. The problem here isn’t my recklessness, as you want to call it. The problem is you. You’re being condescending, treating me like a stupid and incompetent child.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Is it because you want a feminine woman who’ll stroke your ego and cling to you forever? Well, if that’s the case, go have sex with Gretchen.”

He huffed out a breath and put up a hand to halt her objections. “The matter is settled. You’ll be seen leaving the boat with luggage. As far as anyone will know, Karli has taken a long vacation. She’ll drop out of sight.”

Her shoulders sagged infinitesimally as she began to see her arguments were useless. “And then what?”

“The techs at headquarters will continue investigating. Our undercover operative at Dillon’s company will stay in place. We’ll use old-fashioned detective work to find out who is behind everything that’s happened.”

“Or not. If Karli drops out of sight, the trail could go cold.”

“Better the trail than your dead body.” He planted his fits on his hips. “Get your personal stuff together. Your maid is going to bring you a suitcase where you can stash your backpack. Be ready to leave in an hour. That’s an order.”

He stomped away, leaving her standing alone.

Hot tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, she grabbed the wilted yellow bell he’d given her out of the bud vase on the bureau and crushed its petals in her fist, taking satisfaction from the pain of her nails digging into her skin. She squeezed until her muscles shook with a tremor of protest. Then she rushed to the basket near the vanity and dropped the destroyed remains in the trash.

How could she have been stupid enough to keep a dead flower for days? It was the sentimental act of a fool. Her chin trembled, and she bit her lip to fight back tears.

Well, never again. She was done caring about Mitch Weaver.