CHAPTER Seventeen

 

 

Strangers in the night, two lonely people, we were strangers in the night…

Emily hummed along with the tune, and in her dream she danced in Nate’s arms in the Adirondack cabin, surround by candles and the glow from the fireplace embers.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

Wake up sunshine? That wasn’t what he would have said. He would have said something seductive, like, I’ve been staring at you all night long, and I can’t wait to make love to you.

“Em, come on. Let me see those baby blues.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the mad, passionate sex allusion, but it was a start. Emily opened her eyes.

“Hi.”

Oh God. He was the most attractive man in the world.

“Nate?”

Her hand was wrapped in his.

“Have a good nap, Angel?”

“Nap?” she mouthed.

“You’ve been out for—” his gaze drifted to the nightstand, “—almost five hours.”

Five hours?

It was sluggish, but it came back to her. The authorities arriving. The arrest of George Barcuda and five of his staff members.

Maybe she did inhale more of the ether than she originally thought.

“Colin.” She sat up. “Where is Colin?”

Nate rose from the chair to slide his hip alongside hers. As the mattress dipped he used a light stroke to thwart her ascent.

Slowly Emily’s glance climbed up the sturdy torso of the man beside her. He had changed into a navy fleece pullover, but she recalled images of his flannel shirt, shredded and charred, his face dark with ashen residue and concern.

“Are-are you okay?” She wanted to hug him, to throw her face in his neck and kiss it, but with the dawn of this new day she felt unsure.

“I’ve survived worse than this.” His voice rumbled. “You’re the one that gave me a scare. You made it through the police inquisition, but by the time the government started arriving, you were fading.”

It took effort, but Emily wriggled past him and lowered her feet over the edge of the bed. She didn’t look back, but could feel his eyes on her. The floor beneath her socks was wooden, and foreign.

“Colin’s asleep too.” he answered her initial question.

“I want to see him.”

Nate rose from the bed, and it was obvious the motion caused him pain. It took an inordinate amount of willpower not to go to him, but if this was going to be the end of their—their relationship, she had to start exhibiting some strength.

“Come here,” he extended his hand.

Emily stood up and shivered, clasping her arms about herself. She caught Nate’s frown but ignored it.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“My house.”

They were upstairs, the window revealing the top of an oak tree with a few dead leaves clinging on despite the breeze that tickled their bellies. The polished wooden floorboards were warmed by the sun piercing the bay window. Colonial furniture gave her the sensation of being transported in time.

Drawn to the view of the sapphire Sound with its choppy surface, Emily rose and walked towards the window, tilting her head to bask in the warmth of the sun even though a cold breeze infiltrated the cracks around the window.

She turned back and observed the patchwork quilt draped across a king-sized, four-poster bed. Those sturdy columns of wood reminded her of a gazebo. She could find sanctuary in this bed.

Paintings of the sea hung from pale blue walls, and a picture of a man dressed in Naval splendor sat atop a dusty dresser.

She crossed the creaking floor to pick up the brass frame. The resemblance was remarkable. Stunning, soul-searching, bourbon-colored eyes.

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

She gauged the uniform. “Was he an admiral?”

“Yes, he was.”

There was no mistaking the sorrow in Nate’s voice. Again she struggled not to turn to him, but she couldn’t keep from asking, “What happened?”

“He’s gone.”

Emily spun. “How?”

With a tip of his head towards the frame in her hands, Nate murmured, “He went down with that ship.”

Two quick steps and she drew to a halt close enough to reach for him, though her hands still clutched the photo. “I’m so sorry, Nate.”

He shrugged, but Emily knew it wasn’t a casual gesture.

“I was young. It was a long time ago.” He managed a sad smile. “You know what it’s like.”

“Yes. I do,” she whispered.

“Well, come on. Let’s go check on the other sleeping beauty in my house.”

She allowed him this diversion only because she was eager to see her brother, but later−if there was to be a later−she would try to draw more out of him. She sensed more than anything that he needed to talk about it.

God, I hope there will be a later.

***

A sturdy banister marred with nicks, funneled downstairs. There, a living room opened to a bank of mulled windows with white wooden grids showcasing a view of the Sound. At the bottom landing the floorboards creaked under their weight.

In the vaulted foyer, Nate stopped. It appeared almost as if he wanted to reach for her, but hesitated.

Emily trembled at the intensity of his glance. Those intense eyes were flecked with shiny gold from chaotic sunrays that pierced the front door’s beveled glass.

“Em.” He took a step closer.

“Colin,” she rushed, flustered. “Please, I want to see my brother.”

The nod was more a twitch of withdrawal. “Okay. This way.”

Cursing her insecurity, Emily distracted herself by studying the living room as she passed through it, picking up intimate signs of the man beside her. The furniture was staid, all wood and plush cushions. There was a layer of dust on the coffee table, but considering recent events, when would he have been here last?

Emily was not too proud to admit that she was pleased to find no feminine influences here. Nate Morrison was a loner, or so his home indicated.

Bookshelves were lined with a host of leather, nautical-themed embossments. She caught glimpses of their titles, smiling at a gold-bound version of Moby Dick.

Definitely a man’s house, but to her it was charming. Rugged and appealing. She imagined them curled up on the couch in an embrace as they looked out on the Sound.

“Em?”

“Huh?”

“Like the view?”

She snapped her eyes on him. “Y-yes.”

Nate cleared his throat and shook his head. “When you look at me like that—”

What? Tell me.

“Soon.” His husky promise was cut short as he reached for a doorknob and tipped his head for her to follow.

The door scraped open wide enough for Emily to peek through. Tears burned the rims of her eyes. Colin slept in his typically haphazard fashion. He bore similar signs of damage as Nate. Tiny scratches across his cheek and jaw, but a guileless serenity marked his slumberous face.

“May I?” she whispered.

Nate pushed the door open further, and stepped out of the way.

***

It moved Nate to see the way Emily stood over her brother with tears in her eyes. He wanted to go to her, but this was a private moment. In fact, he considered withdrawing altogether, but the poignancy of her expression kept him rooted.

“Colin?” she whispered.

There was little response, just a distracted scratch of the nose, and the shift of a leg. With a snore that sounded like a garbage disposal, Colin settled in again.

Nate couldn’t help but smile. He and Colin had shared a lot in those last few hours—the indissoluble bond of near death does that to you. There was also the stronger connection of them both loving the same woman.

“He’s out cold.” Emily glanced up.

She was so beautiful. Even with eyes slightly puffy from the effects of anesthesia and tears.

But when Emily looked at him, she probably thought he had nothing to offer. He was a man with an enigmatic past at best. A man who had been sent to hunt her down.

“Nate?”

“Come on,” He stepped back from the doorway. “Let’s let him sleep. He deserves it.”

She followed, pausing for one last glance at her brother before clicking the door shut.

When her eyes shifted back to him they seemed edgy, bouncing around the foyer in avoidance.

Damn, she was afraid. It was no wonder. He had never come across as anything but aggressive.

“What about Phil?” she asked. “Any news? Is he all right?”

Nate rubbed at his ribs, the injury seeming to have occurred ages ago. He had a couple of deep scratches and stitches to add to it from the hull of the Hyperion. “Yeah, he’s going to be okay. I talked to him today.” A grin toyed with the corner of his mouth. “That is, when I could get past the string of expletives.”

“Not happy about being in the hospital?” She used the opportunity to edge along the wall and toy with the lacey tablecloth on the oval dining table.

“Not happy with the channel selection on his TV last I heard.”

Emily smiled, and Nate thought that he would move heaven and earth to see a repeat of that simple gesture.

Okay, so the trivial banter was over. This was it. This was the talk he wanted to have.

God help me, if she walks out that door.

“Let’s—” He touched her arm. “Let’s go back upstairs, so we don’t bother him. In this house everything resonates off the wooden floors.”

Bright blue eyes traced the floor and then up the stairwell, until they returned uneasily. “Alright.”

Ah hell, this wasn’t going well. She was ready to bolt now that the adventure was over.

Nate followed her up the stairs—a perfect little angel in worn jeans and a faded sweatshirt.

I’m not going to make it easy for her to leave.

***

Dusk was settling in, slanting deep violet shadows across Nate’s bed, like ripples in the ocean.

Emily wondered why she was so focused on that simple piece of furniture. Maybe the allure was simply because she was exhausted−not the notion that it was where Nate slept.

She stepped away and reached the window, hooking her finger on one of the wooden grids.

Outside, a rosy sunset met the stark indigo plane of the Sound−a merger of two conflicting personas. Day and night. For one brief moment, these opposites learned to coexist.

Emily’s nerves were falling apart. For one who was always in control, or at least portrayed the role, she floundered with Nate.

She turned from the window, and though the room grew darker with the setting sun, she was certain that nothing could mask her emotions. She had to say what was on her mind before she left here and never saw Nate Morrison again.

“I’m in love with you.”

There. That was it. That was what she wanted to say.

Of course, all she could hear was a clock ticking downstairs.

Nate stood stoic, his eyes locked on hers.

“So help me God, if you add the word, but−” he uttered.

“But—I know that this adventure is over. I know this was borrowed time.” She flattened her palms atop her thighs, wishing she had somewhere to put them. “And I know that you will move on. Washington, right?” She managed a wan smile. “You never know, I hear the cherry blossoms are beautiful in the spring. Maybe I’ll—”

Nate took two steps and splayed his hands in her hair, and then his lips found hers.

When the kiss finally ended, Emily felt like she had been de-boned. She stared up at him with her arms linked around his neck.

“I almost said the words inside the Hyperion,” Nate whispered. “I almost told you I was in love with you, right there…in the midst of all that chaos.”

“But—”

“No, Em. No more buts. Listen to me, will you?”

He cleared his throat and stepped at arm’s length so that he could look at her. “I’ve been alone all my life. By choice. It was easier to be accountable for one person in my line of work. And now, just recently I took on a working partner. Phil taught me that it was okay to lighten up. That was one major stride in my life. Then the next major stride came when I met you.” He looked like he was going to reach for her again. “I am about the last person to ever toss out a corny cliché. I don’t do clichés—but that night, on that road when you stood above me—I believed in destiny.”

“You had a concussion.”

He grinned. “Then let’s move forward to the hospital. Tell me, Emily. Tell me you didn’t sense it the moment you touched my hand. And tell me why you did that? Why did you reach for the hand of a total stranger?”

Emily gulped, and was once again in that chrome chair, waiting for the stranger with magnificent amber eyes to wake up. His eyes opened, fell on her, and he whispered hi in such an intimate tone, it was as if they had just woken from one of many mornings full of lovemaking.

“It felt right.”

“Yes, Em. It did. It still does. I want you.”

She wanted him too. But there had been too much mistrust, and if there was to be something solid between them, Emily wanted Nate’s trust more than anything else.

“Do you trust me?” she whispered.

“With my life.”

The force of the answer staggered her. She regrouped and uttered softly, “Okay.”

And with that, she turned and left him.

***

Nate stared at the door in disbelief.

His gaze dropped to the open palms that she had so easily slipped from.

But it was definitely a mortal’s soft tread he heard going down the stairs, and certainly an earthly touch on the front door that slammed shut.

It was the most desolate sound he had ever heard.

Astonishment held him rooted for a moment, but determination jerked him into motion. He wasn’t going to let her walk out of his life without a fight.

At the top of the stairs, he drew up short. The front door opened. Emily stepped in, shaking fresh-fallen snow out of her hair. She quietly tapped the toes of her boots on the doorstep, and then looked up.

Their eyes met. She held that gaze as she started towards the stairs and stayed locked on it as she mounted each step with deliberate care. Nate sensed no trepidation in the woman that approached him. This woman was a composed creature−regal and elegant, and she wanted something.

At the top of the steps she dipped a hand into her coat pocket and withdrew a package. She peered at it with a mixture of disdain and irreverence, and then handed it to him.

Instead of looking at the procured item, Nate held her eyes, asking the question of them, rather than addressing the article in his hand.

“The hard drive.” She shrugged. “Do what you will with it.”

Now he did glance down. The slim device suddenly felt very heavy.

“I know exactly who this belongs to.” He turned it over once, twice, and then smirked. “That guy snoring on my couch.”

Emily lunged for his neck, her arms encircling him.

“Whoa, don’t attack me,” he chuckled.

“You’ve done so much for us,” she said between kisses against his neck. “I don’t know what to say—”

“Keep kissing me like that and you won’t be able to say anything.”

Emily tore from his neck, cupped his cheeks, and planted her lips firmly against his. At first they were quick, frantic pecks, submitting to a need to touch every inch of his face.

And then the kisses slowed.

Nate wanted to voice more assurances. He wanted to talk about their future together, and he wanted to will away any misgivings Emily may have, but how was he to convey those points when she was making a soft whimper in the back of her throat and standing up on her toes for a deeper kiss.

“Yo, guys, are you up there?”

***

Surely she hadn’t heard that sound. Nothing was going to invade this moment. Emily had waited for the liberation of being able to kiss Nate without inhibition. At Edelweiss, for as heated as the interlude was, it was still tainted with anxiety.

“Em,” Nate whispered against her neck.

“Guys, come on, you’re scaring me.”

“Believe me,” Nate drew back to look at her. “There is nothing I want more than to ignore that—”

A moan escaped her lips, but she strove for composure and pushed back from his shoulders, tugging on her sweatshirt.

“This is unfinished business,” she vowed.

“That will be finished,” he added.

“Promise?”

His reply was a hot kiss that made her feel faint.

“Emily? Nate?”

“That brother of mine—”

“Is a great guy,” Nate interrupted as he set her back on her feet. “Who’s probably hungry as hell right now.”

Emily swept her bangs out of her eyes and caught a glimpse of the heat smoldering in Nate’s stare. “I’m hungry as hell too.”

“Damn.” He ground a fist into his eye. “Woman, you are way too tempting.” He reached for the door and yelled, “Be right down.”

When he would have moved to leave, Emily reached for his arm. “Nate.”

“Hmm.” His hand rested on the brass knob, and his eyes dusted across her with promise.

“I am head over heels in love with you.”

“That’s good.”

“That’s good?” She trailed him down the stairs, her voice shrill. “That’s good?”

***

“Colin,” Nate took the last step and caught the young man’s hand in a brief grasp, which he used to haul him into a mannish hug.

At first he felt tension in the lanky frame, but it fled like someone had pulled the plug from the drain. Nate found himself in a bear hug that warmed another part of his heart. He was learning so many surprises about himself.

Over Colin’s head he met the eyes of the woman responsible and mouthed the words, “I love you too.”

***

“My favorite moment was Emmy cinching the belt around Mr. Barcuda.” Colin smiled over a mouthful of Cream of Mushroom soup.

“Mine was walking in and finding Emily standing behind him with one pissed off look on her face.” Nate chuckled. “Philip is going to take over George’s position at NMD. He deserves that. And he will restore our reputation. The government won’t let one rogue controller ruin that type of productivity.”

Nate looked at Colin. “What about you? Would you stay there, under those circumstances? Under Phil’s charge?”

Emily gained another level of respect for Nate. Colin’s decisions in life had come from either her or her parents. They represented a unanimous need to do what was best for him. Seeing Nate field the point blank question to her brother, she felt guilty for the past and hoped that with Nate’s help that she could change the future.

Colin’s eyebrows wrinkled as he considered the subject. With a mouthful he nodded earnestly, and then swallowed. “Sure, I’d still work there. We’re working on this big project right now.” Enthusiasm brightened his face. “It’s a UUV, Unmanned Underwater Vehicle. You’d like this, Nate. The Navy picked up this contract. It’s for reconnaissance missions, but I’m working on sensors to evade fishing nets.”

“I saw information on that project. The Navy wants to use them for surveillance too.”

Emily looked at her brother, his tawny hair matted on one side from the pillow, his blue eyes so reminiscent of their father. He looked smug, and reveled under Nate’s attention.

“So it won’t bother you, staying there?” she inserted.

“Nah, heck, this has all been a pretty neat adventure.”

Across the table Nate raised his eyebrows.

She glanced at the fourth seat at the table. “Where’s Benjamin?”

Colin shrugged. “He had other plans.”

“He’s not here?”

“Something about a State meeting he couldn’t get out of.” Colin winked at her. “Personally, I think he has a date.”

Emily sat back in her seat and marveled at her brother’s unruffled expression. Benjamin Franklin had been at his side since he was eleven years-old−a steadfast companion from the moment Colin had to change schools.

Never once had Ben had a State meeting to attend.

To share her surprise, she sought Nate’s glance. It never strayed from hers, and that notion made the temperature rise in the dining room.

Colin looked up from his soup.

“Emmy?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I have some more soda?”

“Sure thing.” She rose clumsily, backing away from the table, unable to break that heated link until the last possible second.

As she walked away she heard Colin comment. “You know, she probably doesn’t know where the soda is. I mean this is your house, you should go help her.”

“Yeah,” Nate nodded, “I probably should.”

In the archway to the kitchen, she paused and turned around.

Colin was grinning at both of them, and in his hand was a full glass of soda.