Trading Secrets by Jayne Castle Page B

Sabrina remarked. "I wonder
     at what age men are supposed to grow up?"
    "How old were you?"
    "Twenty-nine. Fully adult and willing to admit it."
    "Did he sell the secrets?"
    She nodded. "High-tech computer information. It happens more
     frequently than anyone wants to admit. The authorities say that
     the usual scenario is for a man to get in over his head either
     with the IRS or a woman, and the next thing he knows a very nice
     gentleman with a foreign accent comes along and offers to help him
     out of the financial difficulties. The very nice gentleman doesn't
     say he's affiliated with the KGB, of course. He usually claims to
     be from a Western country that basically has the same interests as
     the U.S. at heart. And of course the device won't be used for
     military purposes. It's just a business deal without going through
     the usual bothersome government red tape. Somehow the stuff just
     happens to wind up in the wrong hands."
    "The IRS or a woman, hmmm?" Matt looked pensive. "Where do you
     fit in?"
    "Well, I'll give you a clue. I wasn't from the IRS," Sabrina shot
     back bitterly. "His father decided I must be the expensive
     mistress. The poor boy had to resort to selling out his company's
     secrets just to keep me in the opulent style I demanded."
    "Where's this poor boy now?"
    "One of those minimum security federal prisons. I doubt he'll be
     there very long. His father can afford the very best legal talents
     and probably some not-so-legal talents, too. Look, Matt, this
     really isn't one of my favorite topics of conversation."
    "Were you the kid's mistress?"
    "I keep having to remind everyone that the kid was twenty-six
     years old!"
    "Were you his mistress?"
    "No, damn it, I was not his mistress. We dated occasionally, had
     some things in common, and that was the extent of the
     relationship. That's also the extent of my explanations on the
     subject. How did I let you push me into talking about it, anyway?"
     She couldn't tell if he believed her or not and she told herself
     it didn't matter. "I think I'm the one who asked the original
     question about mysterious backgrounds. You owe me some answers now
     that I've let you pull my life story out of me."
    "I didn't get your life story. All I got were a few bare facts. I
     still don't understand why you left California."
    "Let's just say the situation became distinctly uncomfortable.
     Have you ever had your name plastered across the newspapers? Had
     people look at you as if you were some form of lowlife that had
     had the nerve to crawl out from under a rock? Have you walked into
     a room and known that you were the subject of conversation before
     you arrived? Been the subject of rumors and speculation? Had
     unpleasant names attached to you? Been blamed for a tragedy? Had a
     career ruined?"
    "Sure."
    Sabrina nearly fell off her seat. Recovering rapidly, she gulped
     at her Margarita and shot her companion a fiercely accusing
     glance. "It's not funny, Matt."
    "Do I look like I'm laughing?"
    It was her turn to study him intently. The hazel gaze never
     wavered from hers as she did so. "No," Sabrina finally said
     slowly, "you don't look as though you're laughing. The 'ex' part
     of the ex-major wasn't voluntary?"
    He lifted one shoulder. "If I hadn't resigned I probably would
     have been court-martialed."
    "Why?" she demanded in a low, tight voice.
    "A covert mission that didn't stay covert. When the media learned
     of it, someone had to take the fall. I was the officer in charge."
    "Where?"
    "Central America."
    "I see."
    "What's the matter, Sabrina? Isn't the background of a cashiered
     Army officer romantic enough for you?"
    She contemplated the bitterness beneath his grim flippancy. It
     sounded familiar, and she realized it was because she'd heard it
     in her own voice often during the past year. "You said you
     resigned."
    "In my case there wasn't much difference."
    "If you want my opinion, you're better off out of the military,"
     she declared