Fool Me Once by Mona Ingram Page B

trust. What had Alex said? Something about trusting Josh with his
life. Olivia was beginning to understand why.
    “Ever
since finishing my journalism course, I’ve devoted myself to my career.” She
held up a hand, as though warding off a comment. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve
loved every minute of it. But I’ve always been busy. Always had an assignment.”
She inched to the edge of the stool in her eagerness to be understood. “And
then the other day my editor refused to let me pursue a perfectly good story.”
    “What
sort of a story?”
    “I
wanted to follow one soldier in Iraq and describe the war from his point of
view. His Battalion is stationed near Basra, and I had permission to live at
the base for two weeks.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “It would have been
great, too. When I came back I was going to follow up with his family here at
home.”
    “Iraq
is a dangerous place right now Darlin’.”
    She
ignored the endearment with a toss of her head. “Not you too! You sound like my
editor. Not only did he kill the story idea, but he made me take a few weeks
off.”
    “Well
in this case, he’s right. Maybe I should thank him.”
    “What
for?”
    “For
keeping you alive. For giving you time off.” He bent his knees until his eyes
were level with hers. “For giving you a reason to come with me.”
    Olivia
looked him in the eye. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
    “Really?”
He moved out from behind the bar and took the stool next to her.
    “I
asked Alex about you, you know. He told me that you used to be with American
Special Forces.” She tilted her head to one side. “I’ve been to Afghanistan and
I know there’s nothing ordinary about what those men do.”
    His
eyes narrowed. “That was a different lifetime for me.”
    She
nodded. “Fair enough. But knowing that you had been with such an elite branch
of the American military intrigued me, and that’s part of the reason I came.”
She paused. “That and feeling sorry for myself that my editor turned me down on
the Iraq story.”
    He
lifted his glass, studying her over the rim. “I hate to disappoint you, but the
most excitement in my life these days is the odd poker game. Not much of a
story there.”
    “One
can always hope.” She shrugged. “Anyway that’s why I decided to come with you.”
    “And
I’m glad you did.” There was a change in his voice. The slick-talking gambler
had disappeared.
    She
gave him a long steady look, as though seeing him for the first time. “Who are
you, Josh Morgan?” One minute I think I’ve got you figured out then you go and
say something completely out of character.”
    He
pulled back in mock horror. “Now ma’am, why would you want to go and figure out
an old cowpoke like me?” He shook his head. “That won’t do. No siree. That
won’t do at all.”
    She
rolled her eyes. “See what I mean? You’re impossible.” She took a few steps
toward the main house. “I for one am not going to let this day go to waste. I’m
going to have a swim.”
    * * *
    Josh
watched her walk away, bare feet slapping softly on the tiles. He took a deep
breath. It was becoming difficult to maintain the façade of smooth talking,
devil-may-care gambler. And to make things worse, Olivia wasn’t anything like
he’d anticipated.
    As
he’d read her pieces in WorldView, a picture of the woman had begun to form in
his mind. From the tone of her writing, he suspected that she was driven,
always going one step further, setting up just one more interview to add depth
to her stories. As a result, her pieces lingered in the mind. Her stories
captured the frailty of the human spirit as well as its strengths. And yet he’d
ignored those clues that pointed to the woman behind the professional. For some
reason he’d thought she would be like other journalists–most of whom cared only
about getting the latest story. It had been a mistake to pre-judge her. A big
mistake.
    He
wandered to the edge of the