Desert Dark (19 page)

“Sounds good. Give me an hour?”

“I'll save you a seat.”

“Hey, let me ask you something. Were we out there alone? I mean, do you check on us or anything?”

He shook his head. “Check on you? How do you mean?”

Nadia opened her mouth.
You'll sound completely insane
. “Nothing. Never mind.”

I'm in serious trouble
.

He'd realized it the moment Nadia returned from the desert. Her clothes were covered in dust, her face smudged with dirt. She wore her hair in two messy braids.

She looked adorable.

Jack hated the idea that Nadia might be a traitor. His devotion to country absolutely took priority over his feelings for any one individual. But she was amazing—beautiful, intelligent, strong. The kind of girl he'd pick as a partner. He desperately wanted it to not be her.

It can't be. She's too transparent
. Nadia was elated after her solo. An accomplished agent—hell, even a second-year student—wouldn't think that was a big deal. His gut insisted it wasn't her.

He'd considered alternate suspects. No one stood out among the junior class. Alan briefly flashed across Jack's radar because of his multilingual upbringing, but Alan could no more be a covert agent than Jack could be a penguin.

Jack had hung out with Nadia all afternoon. After a late lunch they'd gone to the library. She studied diplomacy while he studied her. Sometimes she moved her lips a little as she read. Her facial expressions reflected her thoughts—a smile, a look of confusion.
She was never neutral.
If she were trained as a spy, she'd be blank. A constant poker face, no matter what went on inside
.

After dinner they'd watched a movie in the student lounge. She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. His arm had gone completely numb, but he hadn't wanted to wake her.

Now, in the darkened documents lab at 2300 hours on a Saturday night, Jack tried to focus on his assignment. Two sets of false identities were due Monday morning and he'd barely begun. He hunched over the lab table, peering through a lighted magnifying glass at the stamped seal on a Bermudian passport. He'd fallen behind in his work and it was all Nadia's fault.

He looked up from the eyepiece, staring mindlessly at the wall, and smiled as he pictured her curled up against him, sound asleep.

To tell the truth, she'd been under his skin since their first date.
No way is she the double. And my investigation will clear her. That would be perfect: single-handedly exonerate Nadia, expose the real double and impress Dean Wolfe
. Jack felt ninety-nine percent sure that Nadia was innocent.

Unless it's an act. Could it be?

He groaned out loud.
This is unacceptable. Remember why you're here. Would you rather impress the girl—who may or may not be an enemy of the United States, or the Dean of Students? Who can without a doubt alter the course of your entire life?

Jack's head ached from the smell of fresh ink and rubber stamps. He pinched the muscle between his thumb and index finger—a tension-relieving technique Sensei had taught his class—and forced his attention back to the purple customs seal splayed out under the magnifying glass. He needed to replicate the symbol, the variances in the ink. The right side of the image blurred from over-pressing, sharpened in the middle, and vanished toward the left, fading off the page like invisible ink. The key, Jack decided, was not to apply even pressure. A busy officer wouldn't bother to rock the stamp back and forth onto each passport.

I wonder if Nadia's ever been to Bermuda
, he thought, looking back up at the wall.

The morning of the Fall Formal, Nadia was full of nervous energy and unable to focus on homework. She paced the small bedroom until Libby threatened to move out, then sat on her bed and pretended to read a magazine. She was about to go for a run when Casey knocked on the door. “Jack's here to see you.”

Nadia met him in the lobby.

“Noah and I rented a limo. We'll meet you outside Hopi Hall at eighteen-hundred?” He flashed his brilliant smile and her stomach fluttered. “We'll all ride together.”

“Sounds great.”

“I also wanted to give you these.” Jack handed her a small black box.

Nestled inside she found a pair of earrings: large, square-cut amethysts set in gold. The sun pouring through the skylight glinted off the stones and cast dancing prisms across the room. Except for a gold ring with a shaving of emerald she got for Christmas last year, Nadia had no real jewelry.

“They're beautiful,” she said.
But what does he expect in return?
“I can't accept these.” She held the open box toward him.

“I know, I know. It's way too early in our relationship for jewelry, but I want you to have them. I promise, no strings attached.”

“Thank you.” Nadia's cheeks warmed as she averted her eyes.
Relationship? I like the sound of that
.

“I'm glad you like them.” He kissed her cheek and turned toward the door. “I'll see you soon.”

Nadia dressed for the dance like she dressed for any event—quickly. Libby took one look and said, “Absolutely not.”

“What's the matter?” Nadia asked, turning toward the mirror. She wore a black satin dress, strappy heels and Jack's earrings. She'd pulled her hair into a high bun.

“Sit down,” Libby ordered, pointing to Nadia's desk chair. “Face me.”

Nadia did as she was told. Libby stood quietly, studying Nadia's face, her hair. Nadia glanced down at her dress, then back up at her roommate, feeling childish in comparison. Libby's gown had been custom made; the perfect shade of red for her creamy skin, the most flattering cut for her even proportions and long legs. The material shimmered slightly as she moved, catching the light.

Libby yanked out Nadia's hairband. “Head between your knees and shake. All right, now flip your hair back.” She retrieved a makeup palette from the bathroom and applied eyeshadow and liner, then a sweep of mascara. She handed Nadia her lipgloss as she removed one of Jack's earrings.

“No, I have to wear those!” Nadia said.

“They don't go with this dress and you're not wearing them. Gloss your lips.”

“They were a gift from my date, and I am wearing them.”

“It's out of the question. You'll wear these,” Libby said, handing Nadia a pair of gold drop earrings. “Jack will understand.”

“But—”

Libby held up her index finger. “I am going to the dance with Alan.
Alan
. I am in no mood to be trifled with.”

Nadia scowled at Libby as she exchanged her earrings.

“You'll thank me later,” Libby said sweetly.

Twenty minutes later, Nadia trailed behind Libby as the girls
walked toward Hopi Hall. Libby's heels were two inches higher than Nadia's, but her pace was as smooth as ever.

Jack waited by the limo door. “You're not wearing your earrings?” He slipped Nadia's corsage on her wrist.

“I wanted to, but Libby won the argument.” She touched her ears. “I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. You don't want to get between a Southern belle and her idea of fashion.”

He laughed. “No worries. You look amazing.”

“And so do you.” Jack was more striking than usual in his black tuxedo. The other guys looked good too—it's hard to look bad in a tux—but Jack looked like . . . well,
James Bond
.

They arrived at the Scottsdale Ritz-Carlton, where the sweet, heavy smell of mimosa trees hung thick in the air. Occasionally, far off in the distance, silent flashes of lightning seared through the sky, casting a dramatic backdrop for the sharp mountains.

Music filtered through the lobby and beckoned them to the back terrace. Thousands of tiny white lights glistened around the swimming pool. Jack took Nadia's hand and immediately led her to the dance floor.

“No one's dancing yet,” she said.

“I don't care. I want to be close to you.” He pulled her in, his arms strong around her body. Her hands slid over his shoulders. Her legs felt weak as he murmured, “You look beautiful.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

I could stare at him for hours
.

He moved his hand to the hollow at the back of her neck. His mouth hovered over hers. Softly, like a whisper, his lips brushed against her. Nadia sensed him hesitate for just a moment, then he kissed her again, harder this time, with a sudden force that seemed out of control. They breathed each other in; no one else existed. The kiss ended and Jack pulled her close again, their bodies pressed together as they moved as one. Nadia leaned against his chest, trying to catch her breath.
Uh-oh
.

The song finished and Nadia reluctantly followed Jack to their table.

Damon took her hand as she arrived. “Niyuri deserted me. An emergency involving a folded contact lens. Come dance with me.”

Jack grabbed Damon's sleeve. “Let's get some drinks instead.”

Damon dropped Nadia's hand and smiled tightly at Jack. “Sure.”

Noah pushed past Nadia to reach Libby. “You look fantastic,” he said.

“Don't mind me,” Nadia mumbled.

Libby's face lit up. “Why, thank you Noah. My date didn't say.”

Alan glanced at Libby. “Oh, yeah. You do look nice. And you know I would tell you if you did not.”

“You mind if we dance?” Noah asked Alan.

Alan shrugged. “I do not care. We only came together because she did not have a date.” He didn't seem to notice Libby's glare. A moment later, he cleared his throat and said, “Nadia, perhaps we should dance?”

“Oh.” She glanced toward the bar; Jack still waited in the queue. “Okay.”

He led her to a quiet spot and put one hand on her shoulder, one on her waist. He kept his distance, a foot of light shining between them. They swayed awkwardly to the music. Alan avoided her eyes.

I feel like I'm in junior high
. “What's up, Alan?” she asked, as the silence stretched into awkwardness.

He glanced at her. “You look particularly attractive this evening.”

“Thanks. You too.” Another minute passed.
I guess an uncomfortable silence beats the usual barrage of insults
.

Nadia scanned the crowd for Jack. She found him just as Jennifer, the beautiful blond from Noah's team, pulled him to the dance floor.
Great. Of all the girls for him to dance with
.

Alan stopped swaying. “Do you mind if we do not finish the song?” Before she answered, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her alone.

Why am I not surprised?
Nadia shook her head and returned
to their table. As she searched the floor for Jack and Jennifer, a waiter in a crisp white shirt and gold vest approached.

“Nadia Riley?”

He wore too much gel in his jet-black hair. His slippery eyes jumped around the table. He looked like the kind of guy she'd avoid at a party. “Yes,” she said.

He placed a stack of cocktail napkins beside her. “Inside the top napkin is a disc. When I walk away, put it in your purse. When you get to campus, drop it in the trashcan outside the girls' dormitory. Tell no one.”

“What?” Nadia leaned toward him.

“Standard protocol. Think of it as a pop quiz,” he said, rearranging the tray of drinks Jack had brought.

My first dead drop!
With a slight smile, she slipped the napkin into her purse.

I mean, seriously. Is this is the coolest school ever?

At 2350, Alan stood in the shadow of the dojo, watching Jack and Nadia say goodnight. They kissed briefly and Jack started to leave. Nadia dumped the trash from her purse. Jack turned back toward her, probably to collect another kiss, but before he could, Nadia went inside. Alan narrowed his eyes as Jack reached into the trashcan.
I really do have unfortunate timing
.

For weeks Alan had followed Saba's orders, made up excuses to spend time with Nadia. But lately, she spent more and more time with Jack. He could not compete with Jack. Not even
Damon
could compete with Jack. And Saba was not pleased. His latest reprimand had been delivered that afternoon.

Twelve hours earlier, Alan had driven to Tempe. He parked in front of a bookstore across from the metro station, where he found a semi-secluded pay phone.

“
Shalom
, my son. Tell me your progress.”

“I am not certain. I think I have become part of my team,” Alan answered in Hebrew. “But it is difficult to say.”

“What about the girl you mentioned?”

“It is not going as well as I would like.”

“Alan. I don't understand the problem.”

“She is dating our team leader. He is a senior. I am not—”

“Do you know what women like?”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Not even a little.”

Saba chuckled. “Do something daring. Break the rules. A dramatic gesture to make her feel special.”

“Saba, I am not very good at breaking—”

“Enough. You were given choices, no? Tell me what they were.”

“I do not think—”

“What were they?”

Stop interrupting me!
Alan sighed. “Train here, train in Tel Aviv, train nowhere.”

“And what did you choose?”

“Saba, I understand my choice.”

“No one forced this on you. I could have, but I did not. What was the only condition of your choice?”

Alan remained silent.
Why would I answer? He will not let me finish my thought
.

“If you had come here, I would tuck you under my wing. We could choose assignments tailored to your interests. You wanted to fly on your own. Now, you become a man.” His voice hardened. “You will stay the course. You will get close to this girl. You will become an agent of the CIA. And you will report everything back to Mossad.” The line went dead.