Tate sat in the D.C. hotel room reserved for her by the United States government. She was numb, thoroughly and utterly numb. Five straight days of testifying, having to go over, in excruciating detail, what happened to her three weeks ago…and three years ago. Garrison’s fall from grace, and the attendant fallout from the revelation that he was running such a massive underground operation, was the biggest scandal to rock the country since Watergate. Maybe even bigger. It reached so far and touched a country already angry and weary and scared of the war, both at home and on foreign soil, that the furious backlash had been swift and colossal.
For her part, she just wanted to crawl back into her cave, go home to her little cabin in the valley, go back to writing stories about love, and triumph, and redemption, and far, far away from corruption, evil, and greed. She’d given at the office. She wanted to be excused now, please.
She had been kept sequestered for the past several weeks as federal agents, investigators, lawyers, doctors, you name it, questioned her and prepared her for what was to come. She hadn’t been allowed to talk, much less see Derek, or CJ.
Both Mankowicz and Garrison were in prison, charged with crimes against humanity. And she, Derek, and CJ—the agent risen from the dead—were the rock stars of the hour. She hated it. All of it.
To make matters worse, her book agent and editor had been in almost constant contact, pressuring her—hard—to use her current global notoriety as a means to give a huge push to her first book release, slated to happen the following month. They’d been honestly surprised that she hadn’t been willing to milk that, and had thrown all kinds of incentives her way to get her to agree. She’d forced them to keep silent about her new job, threatening all kinds of legal hell if they “accidentally” leaked so much as a squeak. She’d already decided long before this happened to publish under a different name—not Tara Wingate, but something one step further removed from that—and that decision was going to stand as well. Which she was very thankful for now, because with everything that had happened, her brief stint as Tara Wingate wasn’t a secret any-longer, either.
If she had any hope whatsoever to continue on in any kind of peace and solitude, no way was she inviting this insanity into her future world. She would make it or break it on her own merits, without any reliance on her former job or any glory it might bring her.
Her agent and publisher were seriously unhappy with her at the moment and she knew the pressure wasn’t over yet. But they had no idea who they were dealing with. Did they honestly think that she’d cave in to whatever demands could be made by a book publisher? Had they not been paying attention to exactly why she was in the news at the moment?
She got up and paced, then went back and lay on the bed. Her back, hip, and leg were killing her. She hadn’t been taking proper care of herself. The long days, the constant attention and demands of her time and energy had wreaked havoc on the routine she used to keep her body functioning. She glanced at the walking stick propped in the corner, then looked away. It reminded her of Derek. Of before.
She couldn’t afford to think too much about that, about him. About how he was holding up. She wasn’t even allowed to watch television or read so much as a magazine until this was over. Her lawyers kept her informed about the level of hysteria this trial was reaching. Just making it in and out of the courtroom every day through the frenzied throngs gave her an indication of the level of global attention this was garnering. The number of satellite trucks alone, clogging the streets for blocks around the courthouse, was staggering.
But now, after today, and possibly by morning…her part in it would all be over. She couldn’t put herself through much more, and she’d told her lawyer as much. She’d told the prosecuters, repeatedly and in far more detail than was warranted, every single thing she knew. The interest now seemed almost prurient to her, rather than productive, and finally her lawyer had stepped in and demanded that they show proof of what further use they thought she could be to their case, or cut her loose. She wasn’t the criminal here. And now she’d been told that her release from her agreement to further testify could come as soon as tomorrow morning.
Part of her couldn’t wait to get home. Back to her old life. Only she suspected, given what she saw outside the courthouse, that the fixation with her wouldn’t stop when she stopped giving testimony. Her book agent, who she’d retained as her temporary publicity manager, just to manage the insanity—not because she intended to take advantage of it in any way—was already fielding offers from everyone from 60 Minutes to Oprah. She’d instructed her agent to refuse them all. That hadn’t won her points with her publisher either.
She just wanted to disappear.
But first, she wanted—needed—to see Derek. She had no idea what he was going through, or what kinds of choices he might be making about his future. She couldn’t imagine he’d enjoy any of this time in the spotlight, and she knew he’d been at a delicate point in his career when this happened, but he might want to take advantage of this very public housecleaning and step in to see what could be done, where he could help, with a war that would continue overseas despite what was happening at home. She had no idea what his feelings were on that at this point. They’d never had the chance to discuss it.
After they’d interrogated Mankowicz, who’d babbled almost incessantly without much more provocation than the power drill lying on Tate’s lap, they’d had to figure out who they could call who would be most willing to tackle a case of this magnitude. Garrison had friends in very high places, so high that the sudden disappearance of a UN ambassador and a few trained agents—current and former—would be nothing to take care of. Especially given the line of work Garrison was in these days.
So, they’d gone the only route they could. They’d gone to the media, to the news agencies, while simultaneously going to the United States attorney general, and made it very clear what their plans were. Which led to a global release of footage, filmed in CJ’s Washington estate, of Paul Mankowicz willingly exposing Garrison and everything he knew, while simultaneously, federal agents had raided Garrison’s private Hamptons club and arrested him, along with several other high ranking officials named in Mankowicz’s confession.
From there, the free-for-all had begun. And she and Derek hadn’t been alone since.
A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. “Room service,” came a quiet voice on the other side of the door.
She hadn’t ordered anything, but maybe her attorney had, for her. She’d been so exhausted when they’d left the courthouse a few hours ago, she’d asked to just come back to her room to rest.
She got up and limped over to the door, checking the peephole first. While her profile was high enough, and the court case vast enough, that she didn’t fear her imminent demise, it wouldn’t be completely unheard of for something to happen. She had a guard stationed on her floor, but—
Her mind blanked as she looked at the face staring back at her. She had to blink, twice, to make sure it wasn’t wishful thinking.
Then she burst into action. She yanked the chain free and flipped the lock and tugged the door open so fast it almost clipped her in the shoulder. “Derek?”
“Shh,” he cautioned, then wiggled his fake eyebrows, which made the silly bell-captain hat jostle on the wig on his head.
She moved back and he rolled the cart into the room and she quickly locked the door behind him. “What if someone finds out, what if—”
That was all she got out before he swept her up against him in a tight hug. “Oh my God, you feel even better than I thought you would,” he said, his face buried in her hair.
The cap and hairpiece had fallen off and as he leaned back to look at her, he let her go with one arm, just long enough to pull off the fake eyebrows and mustache.
“Derek, how—”
“I couldn’t stand it another second. I went AWOL.”
Her heart was pounding, but the grin on her face was so huge she thought her face might freeze like that. It was really him. He was really here. “You know, you seem to be making a habit of going renegade and ending up on my doorstep.”
He spread one arm wide. “But alert, alive, and no longer busted up. So I’m improving on the routine.”
“Everything is okay?”
“A little tender in spots, but…” He took her hands and put them on his shoulders, then moved them down his chest, over his ribs, then tucked them around his waist. “All in one piece.” He tugged her back into his arms. “Thanks to Superwoman, here.”
“It was a team effort.”
“You know, I have an entirely different sort of team effort in mind.”
“Do you?” She couldn’t help it, she ran her hands over his face, through his hair. “Sorry,” she said, still grinning, “I just…I’ve missed you so incredibly badly, and I had no idea what you were doing, thinking, and I—I’ve never felt the absence of anyone in my life before, except maybe CJ, but never like this. I can’t believe I got so used to having you there when I needed you…and now—”
“I know, we’ve both been through the ringer, and I hated that we had to be apart, but it was worth it if it means the opposition can’t find any loopholes to discredit our testimony in any way.”
“I know, I know, but then you risked it by coming here, and—”
“I’m done. As of yesterday. Finished. Free.”
“Then, why the disguise?”
“To protect you. I know I should have waited until you were done, but I walked out of that hotel—well, the back service entrance of that hotel because of the mob out front—a free man with my entire life in front of me, and there was only one place I absolutely knew I wanted to be.” He ran his fingers along her cheek, then tenderly kissed the bruised spot where CJ had hit her. “Right here. With you. That’s all the future I need to know. That is if you’ll have me in it. I know you’re used to your solitude, but—”
She cut him off with a kiss. And it was no buss on the lips. It was everything she’d been feeling these past few weeks. The terror, the pain, the anger, the fury, the fear, the uncertainty…all of it. But most of all, it was the passion she knew she had for this man. “I missed you, Derek. Missed you.” She looked at him. “I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
“Then you’ll never have to.”
“I—” She looked to the window, then back to him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. They told me I should be out of here by tomorrow. My attorney is arguing on my behalf right now. And…I want to go home, but I don’t know if they’ll let me.” She motioned to the window. “I mean, all of them. I couldn’t stand to have my home invaded.” She smiled a little. “Once was enough for me.”
He kissed her, and he didn’t end it past the initial burst of want. He continued to kiss her, until the frenzy of reunion shifted to the hunger of need. “I won’t be going back,” he said. “I’m done.”
“What will you do?”
“Well…I have an idea,” he said, still running kisses along her jaw, then to the sensitive spot on the side of her neck.
She laughed, and it felt so damn good. Joy. She wanted that back. And she’d be damned if she’d let herself get robbed of it now. “While I like where this is going, I’m not sure a person can live off of that alone.”
“I have ideas for that, too. But first…” He scooped her up into his arms, eliciting a surprised gasp from Tate.
“Your ribs—”
“I’m fine. And you feel even better than fine.” He carried her into the bedroom, then let her feet drop to the floor so they stood next to the bed. “And I want to make very fine love to you. On a real bed. I wish it was our bed, but I’m afraid I’m not patient enough to wait that long.”
“Good thing,” she said, then grabbed the lapels of his hotel service jacket and spun him around and onto the bed.
“Hey,” he said, on a surprised laugh.
“You said you were fine,” she said, climbing on top of him, straddling him.
“I think maybe your little display in Washington has reenergized your training skills.”
She had begun unbuttoning the jacket, and followed with the shirt. She leaned over her busy hands and smiled. “Don’t worry, I never use my skills for evil.”
“Well,” he said, as she yanked his shirt free, leaving his chest bare, as she went to work on the trouser button. “Never let it be said I didn’t encourage my agents to keep their skills sharply honed at all times. You never know when you might need them.”
She slid down, taking his pants with her. “True. So very, very true.”
And then, just as suddenly, he sat up, slid his hands under her arms, and a second later she found herself flat on her back, undergoing a similar disrobing ritual. “I also think that it’s important you know, at all times, that your team leader hasn’t let his own skills go lax in the face of his agents’ impressive show of dedication.” He slid down and kissed the skin below her navel, then shifted even lower, until her hips bucked off the bed.
“Yes,” she said. “Dedication is really, really a good thing.” She gasped as his tongue found her. “Downright motivational.”
She sunk her hands in his hair and let herself rush up and over, marveling at the very idea that after all that had been her past…that this could be her future. Their future.
He moved up her body, having shrugged out of the rest of his clothes, and pulled her legs around his hips as he moved between her thighs. “I’m very motivated,” he said, then slid into her. And the talking ended as they began.
He moved inside of her and she lifted to take him deeper, reveling in the feel of him, filling her, the weight of him, so stabilizing and grounding. She’d never thought she’d need anyone but herself for that, and she knew, without doubt, that she could rely on herself now, just as she had before. But it felt so much better to share, to give, to take, to be the grounding force for someone else, and know there was someone who wanted to be that for her.
So she reached up, and she took it. And she gave it back.
And she found the peace she’d been fighting for.
Afterward, Derek pulled her close. She nestled against him, more content than she could ever remember being, than she thought she could ever be.
He tilted up her chin then, looked into her eyes, and she found even more there. “I love you, Tate. I can’t not tell you that. You don’t have to—”
“I love you, too.” She beamed then. “Wow, that felt really good.”
“Good,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “Because I could definitely get used to hearing it.”
She cupped his face, turned it to her. “I want you to know that I understand, with what happened in the past—”
“Is past, now, Tate. Truly. It was like a beacon, my own North Star, reminding me of what I had to do…but it was also a weight, dragging me down. I will always mourn the loss, and there will always be guilt—” He pushed her hand down when she pressed a finger to his lips. “You can’t suffer the loss I did and not feel that. But it’s okay. Now, it’s okay. Because now I know that I should use what I learned not to hide from it, or run from it, but to do it again, and do it right. If I’m ever going to honor him, honor what I lost…then I can’t be afraid to do it again. To get it right.”
She kissed him then. “I’m so glad I get to be the one you do it right with.”
He laughed. “Well, I haven’t pulled it off quite yet.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling, and rolling him to his back. “But that’s the fun part. Getting there.” She moved on top of him. “First we might want to figure out where we go from here. Literally.”
He grinned. “Actually, I have an idea about that. In fact, I did a little research this morning before going AWOL, and I have a lead on a new life.”
Her eyes went wide. “New life? Doing…?”
“A whole lot of what we’re doing now, if we’re lucky.”
“Love is great, but it doesn’t put food on the table.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.”
She looked confused. He laughed.
“You love your newfound profession, right?” He frowned for a second. “The insanity—” He gestured to the windows. “That hasn’t changed things for you in any way, has it?”
She hadn’t told him yet, about her new profession, but he must have guessed at least some of it from what he saw on her computer. “No. It hasn’t made things easy, but I’m still on track there.”
“And, can I assume that you don’t have to be in a specific place to continue with this job of your heart? This job you love?”
“No. All I need is a computer, an e-mail account, and possibly, on occasion, a plane ticket to New York.”
“That can certainly be done.” He didn’t ask any further questions, and if there were any lingering doubts, they vanished. She’d follow him anywhere. Even better was the knowledge that she was pretty sure he’d do the same for her.
She propped her chin on his chest. “So…are we living off of my love then, or…”
He grinned. “Oh no, I have a new love interest of my own.” He pulled her up and kissed her soundly. “Never to be outshone by you, of course.”
“Of course,” she said dryly. “What is it?”
“I’ve never told anyone about this. It’s always been more the dream for when I couldn’t stand my job any longer, or when I retired. I never really thought I’d actually do it. But now it seems like the perfect thing.”
“What?”
He whispered in her ear and she leaned up. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Where? Do you have a place picked out for it?”
“Maybe.” He rolled them to their sides. “Would you really consider it?”
“Of course I would.”
He kissed her. “It really is a brave new world. And I hit the jackpot.”
“Well,” she said, grinning and pulling him on top of her this time. “You always did have good aim.”
“Now that you mention it…”