Chapter Thirty-One
“America is too great for small dreams.” Ronald Reagan
If tonight was all they were going to have, she wanted to make the most of it.
As she locked the door of her apartment behind them, she reached inside her dress and pulled out the drive with Stella’s files. What would they find on there? Would it help them? Or only make things worse? If they could be worse. She slipped the drive into her bag and glanced up to find Gideon watching her.
“It had better be worth it,” she said. “Whatever is on there.”
She’d been so scared, she’d almost frozen up completely. A great rebel she’d make. All the way home she’d expected the Secret Service to pounce on them, arrest them, torture them. She’d gotten Gideon into this. That was just sinking in.
But they’d made it.
“Go sit down,” she said to Gideon, waving toward the living room. “I’ll go get us a drink.” She hadn’t taken more than a sip of champagne at the party; she hadn’t wanted to dull her senses. Now she needed a drink.
“Just remember I’d like to stay awake tonight.”
She tossed him a grin. “I’d like you to stay awake as well.”
In the kitchen, she selected a bottle of red wine from the rack, opened it, and collected two glasses from the cupboard. When she got to the living room, Gideon was seated on the sofa, long legs stretched out. He’d taken off his uniform jacket.
She handed him a glass and poured the wine, then sank down beside him, so close that they were touching. She toed off her shoes and curled her legs under her.
By some unspoken agreement, they didn’t talk about the evening, or what they would do tomorrow, or speculate on what might be in Stella’s files. She put it all from her mind. “Tell me about the places you’ve been. I always wanted to travel.”
“Maybe you should have joined the army.”
He was right in a way. It was one of the only careers now that enabled you to travel. Except that she would have made a crap soldier. “I’m not very good at taking orders. Loud noises make me jump. Plus, I hate guns.”
“Maybe not, then. Hmm, my favorite place is…Yellowstone Park. We went there for a training exercise in the winter when the place was deep in snow. It was wild and beautiful. No tourists now. It seems so wrong that more people shouldn’t get to see it.”
“Why? Why don’t they want us to move around? What are they scared of?”
“It’s been an insidious change. The Wall was supposed to keep people out. In reality, it’s as much to keep us in. First they shut the borders and told us it was for our own safety. Why did we need to go outside the country? Why risk bringing back some virus and causing another pandemic? And if we did leave, they couldn’t guarantee we’d get back in. Of course, back then there was a huge threat of terrorism, along with a lot of paranoia about man-made diseases. It was easy to convince the people that it was for their own good.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
“When I was younger, I accepted everything the Party told us. Later, after everything went to crap, I started to question things. There’s no denying that as a nation we’re under attack. There was never any shortage of battles to fight. The world outside is falling apart. They see this as a safe haven, and they want in. There are big areas that are no longer habitable. Poisoned air and water supplies mean that people are displaced and on the move. They’re hungry and want what we’ve got.”
“So maybe the Party are doing something right. People here aren’t hungry. People can have a good life if they accept the restrictions.”
“Maybe. But this city is like an island. Everything is still bright and beautiful. That party tonight—you don’t think the rest of the country is like this, do you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s why they don’t want us to move around. Why they’ve restricted the news services. They don’t want us to see what’s happening in other parts of the country. I’ve heard stories of whole towns living in virtual slavery. In the past, there were a lot of illegal immigrants willing to work for low wages. Who do you think is doing that labor now?”
“You keep saying ‘they.’ Do you mean the Party?”
“Not all of them. Some. I’ve tried to get information and been blocked. There’s definitely an inner circle who make the important decisions.”
“Auspex said something similar. There’s a wall he can’t get through.”
“I doubt very much that they’re making those decisions for the good of the people.”
She poured them both more wine. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She didn’t want to be reminded of all the bad things happening in the world. Time to change the subject.
“What’s it like to fly?”
“In the big planes, you hardly notice you’re not on the ground. But I’ve been in little ones and helicopters, and it’s amazing. You’d love it.”
“Never going to happen.”
Christ, couldn’t they find any subjects that weren’t ultimately depressing? Maybe they shouldn’t talk at all. She placed her glass on the coffee table, then took Gideon’s as well. He didn’t move, just watched her.
She came up on her knees, hitched up her dress, and straddled his hips. Cupping his face with her hands, she stared into his eyes as she kissed him. He stayed motionless, letting her do what she wanted. She kissed his mouth, then his jaw, feeling the faint rasp of stubble beneath her lips. She kissed the scar on his cheek, the corner of his eyes, then his throat, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him.
Finally he moved, his fingers threading in her hair, tugging the pins free so that it fell about her shoulders.
“I love your hair,” he said.
His hands moved lower, sliding over the bare skin of her back, slipping under the dress, gliding it off her shoulders to bare her to the waist. “You’re so beautiful.”
“No, I’m not.”
He ignored her. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Oh well, if he wanted to believe that, she wasn’t going to argue. She couldn’t anyway, because he lowered his head and kissed her.
She woke in a tangle of limbs. Gideon lay half on top of her, his arm flung over her shoulder, a leg across her thighs. Through the blinds, she could see it was still dark outside, but she could sense that morning wasn’t far away.
She slipped out from beneath him, wincing a little. They’d made love over and over, first fast, then achingly slow. He’d woken her in the night, his mouth on her body. He’d kissed every inch of her skin and then made love to her again. Now there was an ache between her thighs that she relished because it reminded her of the night.
Without turning on the light, she crossed the room, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed into the bathroom. She wanted to get into the office. She’d put this off as long as she could. Now was the time to find out what it was they’d risked their lives for.
She piled her hair on top of her head and showered quickly, washing the scent of Gideon from her skin. Last night had been time out. It couldn’t happen again. Already the cords were tightening between them. She couldn’t allow herself to care for him. It would just make everything that much harder.
Afterward, she dressed. Gideon still slept on. In the light from the open bathroom door, she watched him. Last night he’d called her beautiful, but he was the beautiful one in this partnership. For a minute, she couldn’t drag her gaze away. Would she ever see him like this again?
She forced herself to turn away. In the kitchen, she made coffee. She drank a cup and then poured one for Gideon, adding cream and sugar as she knew he liked it. He still slept on, almost as though he had been drugged. His lashes finally flickered open as she sank down on the bed beside him.
He took in her clothed form and frowned. “You’re dressed. I don’t like it. Come back to bed.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to the office.”
“What time is it?”
“Six. That’s pretty normal for me. No one will question it.” He pulled himself up and she handed him the coffee. “I just wanted to say good morning, and that I’ll see you at lunchtime. One o’clock?”
He nodded.
“Go back to sleep,” she said.
“I have to go home, get a change of clothes.”
She made to stand up and he grasped her wrist, holding her down. “Last night was wonderful.”
“I know.”
He studied her for a moment, examining her face. He must have found something he didn’t like there, because his frown deepened. “You don’t think it should happen again.”
She glanced away. It was one thing to think it and another to say it out loud, but she forced herself to say the words. “There’s no way this can end well. I’ve searched for a way I can make it through this, except there isn’t one. Now is not the time to fall in love.”
Shock flashed across his face. Maybe he hadn’t thought she would say the word, but she wasn’t a coward. She knew she hovered on the edge of falling so hard for this man. And that would make a difficult task almost impossible.
“I always thought I didn’t believe in love,” he said.
“Well, the best thing you can do right now is hold onto that belief. It will be better for both of us.”
He sat for a moment, still holding her wrist. She didn’t pull away. He needed to find a way through this himself. She could almost see his mind working. “Have you asked your computer friend?”
“Auspex? Asked him what?”
“Whether you’re going to die?”
She looked away, then shook her head. “I thought about it. But really it makes no difference, except I’d be even more scared.” She forced a smile. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I’m such a coward.”
“You’re the bravest woman I know.” He blew out his breath. “Go. Do what you have to do, and I’ll see you at lunchtime. I just hope it was worth it.”
“Me, too.”