of his hair for the evening. I hit a real lounge with a real bartender, where a bunch of really miserable guys were grousing about the fact their real wives and kids were pains in their asses,” he says matter-of-factly. “And suddenly I realized how lucky I was.”
I smile gratefully at him. “Well, I feel the same way.”
“You do? You mean, you find it okay that we take some time off from each other, in order to assess what we really want out of this—this fake relationship?”
“No, of course not! I mean…” I don’t know what the hell I mean, since I don’t really think he knows what he means, either.
At least, I hope he doesn’t. “Is that all I am to you—some ‘fake wife’?”
“On this mission, you’re not even that.”
“If you’re speaking of Dominic pulling Eden Key as his cover as opposed to you, I had nothing to do with that.”
His look says, we both know better than that.
Okay, maybe if I’d squawked more, Ryan could have been persuaded.
So why didn’t I?
Because it was fun watching Jack get a wee bit jealous.
I didn’t realize how quickly wee bit can turn into totally livid .
Surely he agrees with me that it’s time to kiss and make up. “Forget the mission for five minutes. What are we in real life?”
He pauses before answering me. When, finally, he can muster the words, it comes out in a soft growl: “Lovers. Best friends. Life partners.” He stops. “I guess you can add ‘heartbreaking flirt’ to your side of the ledger sheet.”
“Jack, be fair! You certainly do your fair share of flirting.”
“It’s in my job description, remember?” I don’t know if his scowl is in response to my accusation, or in regard to how he feels about this part of his gig.
Our gig. “Yeah okay, well, welcome to my world.”
“The difference between you and me, my dear Mrs. Stone, is that I’m not ‘that guy’ when I’m home with you, or when I’m in the office, for that matter.” He jerks his head in Dominic’s direction. “Whereas you’re always…how did Dominic put it? Oh yes—‘Donna Stone, the manslayer.’ You enjoy turning men’s heads, even as you gut them alive. And that will always be the case.”
I can’t see Jack’s face through a scrim of tears. “You’re right. I have no excuse for ever making you feel as if you aren’t the only man in my life.”
Jack frowns. “That’s just it. I’m not the only man.”
I open my mouth to say something—
But the words don’t come out.
Because I know he’s right. He’s got to compete with terrorists and other bad guys who want to maim and destroy. My job, like his, is to stop them from succeeding.
And doing so—being an assassin—is almost as big a part of my life—my identity—as being a mother.
Could I give it all up?
Yes. And I will, gladly—when the Quorum no longer exists.
Unfortunately, that won’t happen until we know for certain that Carl no longer exists, either.
He is the ex from hell. Worse yet, he’s the terrorist from hell.
We both know that Jack won’t rest either, until Carl is permanently out of our lives. In that regard, so far, so good. Six months and counting. If we can go a year, I’ll gladly do without the official death certificate to feel the time is right to retire.
Here’s hoping Jack feels I’m worth waiting for.
In the meantime, we will complete the missions assigned to us, including this one, which we must do with the assistance of Dominic Fleming.
I have nothing left to say to him, so I turn to leave. Besides, I’ve got to clean up my face. No one should see me this upset.
That is, no one should see Lotta Tallant at her worst—least of all anyone on this flight, who may lead me to Dr. Mandrake.
As I bolt toward the first-class lavatories, I collide with one of the female flight attendants enamored by Dominic. Her hair is mussed, and her lipstick is smeared. I shouldn’t stare, but it’s hard not to, seeing how the
I smile gratefully at him. “Well, I feel the same way.”
“You do? You mean, you find it okay that we take some time off from each other, in order to assess what we really want out of this—this fake relationship?”
“No, of course not! I mean…” I don’t know what the hell I mean, since I don’t really think he knows what he means, either.
At least, I hope he doesn’t. “Is that all I am to you—some ‘fake wife’?”
“On this mission, you’re not even that.”
“If you’re speaking of Dominic pulling Eden Key as his cover as opposed to you, I had nothing to do with that.”
His look says, we both know better than that.
Okay, maybe if I’d squawked more, Ryan could have been persuaded.
So why didn’t I?
Because it was fun watching Jack get a wee bit jealous.
I didn’t realize how quickly wee bit can turn into totally livid .
Surely he agrees with me that it’s time to kiss and make up. “Forget the mission for five minutes. What are we in real life?”
He pauses before answering me. When, finally, he can muster the words, it comes out in a soft growl: “Lovers. Best friends. Life partners.” He stops. “I guess you can add ‘heartbreaking flirt’ to your side of the ledger sheet.”
“Jack, be fair! You certainly do your fair share of flirting.”
“It’s in my job description, remember?” I don’t know if his scowl is in response to my accusation, or in regard to how he feels about this part of his gig.
Our gig. “Yeah okay, well, welcome to my world.”
“The difference between you and me, my dear Mrs. Stone, is that I’m not ‘that guy’ when I’m home with you, or when I’m in the office, for that matter.” He jerks his head in Dominic’s direction. “Whereas you’re always…how did Dominic put it? Oh yes—‘Donna Stone, the manslayer.’ You enjoy turning men’s heads, even as you gut them alive. And that will always be the case.”
I can’t see Jack’s face through a scrim of tears. “You’re right. I have no excuse for ever making you feel as if you aren’t the only man in my life.”
Jack frowns. “That’s just it. I’m not the only man.”
I open my mouth to say something—
But the words don’t come out.
Because I know he’s right. He’s got to compete with terrorists and other bad guys who want to maim and destroy. My job, like his, is to stop them from succeeding.
And doing so—being an assassin—is almost as big a part of my life—my identity—as being a mother.
Could I give it all up?
Yes. And I will, gladly—when the Quorum no longer exists.
Unfortunately, that won’t happen until we know for certain that Carl no longer exists, either.
He is the ex from hell. Worse yet, he’s the terrorist from hell.
We both know that Jack won’t rest either, until Carl is permanently out of our lives. In that regard, so far, so good. Six months and counting. If we can go a year, I’ll gladly do without the official death certificate to feel the time is right to retire.
Here’s hoping Jack feels I’m worth waiting for.
In the meantime, we will complete the missions assigned to us, including this one, which we must do with the assistance of Dominic Fleming.
I have nothing left to say to him, so I turn to leave. Besides, I’ve got to clean up my face. No one should see me this upset.
That is, no one should see Lotta Tallant at her worst—least of all anyone on this flight, who may lead me to Dr. Mandrake.
As I bolt toward the first-class lavatories, I collide with one of the female flight attendants enamored by Dominic. Her hair is mussed, and her lipstick is smeared. I shouldn’t stare, but it’s hard not to, seeing how the
Similar Books
