Authors: Heather Graham
Later as Elizabeth sat alone in recovery, her patient started to rouse. The nurse and assisting physician had, at her urging, retired to the lounge. Both had looked haggard and ready for a break. She’d seen no reason, considering the continued stability of the patient’s vitals, for all of them to stay with him.
Now she wished she wasn’t alone. Her trepidation was unwarranted, she knew, but some part of her worried that she might see more of that vulnerability and she did not want to feel sympathy for this man. Now or ever.
He licked his lips. Made a sound in his throat. The intubation tube left patients with a dry throat. His right
hand moved ever so slightly then jerked as some part of him recognized that he was restrained.
His body grew rigid then restless.
Stepping closer Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm and spoke quietly to him. “Agent Hennessey, you’re waking up from anesthesia now. The surgery went well. There is no reason to be apprehensive.”
His lids struggled to open as he continued to thrash just a little against his restraints.
“Agent Hennessey, can you hear me?”
He moistened his lips again and tried to speak.
Instinctively Elizabeth’s hand moved down to his. “You can open your eyes, Agent Hennessey, you’re doing fine.”
His fingers curled around hers and her breath caught.
Blue eyes stared up at her then, the pupils dilated with the remnants of the drugs his body worked hard to metabolize and flush away.
“Everything is fine, Agent Hennessey.”
“I guess I survived the knife, Doc,” he said, his voice rusty.
An unexpected smile tilted her lips. “You did, indeed. We’ll be moving to the safe house shortly.”
“Any chance I could have a drink?” he asked with another swipe of his tongue over his lips.
“Certainly.” It wasn’t until then that Elizabeth noticed that his fingers were still closed tightly around hers. She wiggled free and poured some cool water into a cup. When she’d inserted a bendable straw she held the tip to his lips so that he could drink. “Not too much,” she warned, but, of course, like all other patients he didn’t listen. She had to take the straw away before he’d stopped.
She wiped his lips with a damp cloth. “For the first
few days we’ll keep the pain meds flowing for your comfort,” she said, all too aware of the silence.
He mumbled something that might have been
whatever you think, Doc.
A few hours later, most of which Agent Hennessey had slept through, Elizabeth supervised his movement to the waiting ambulance. She had learned that her determination of when the patient was ready to be moved had less to do with their departure than the arrival of darkness. Made sense when she thought about it. Night provided good cover.
“I’ll be riding in the front with the driver,” Dawson explained. “The nurse will accompany you to the safe house for the night. Tomorrow his care will be solely in your hands as long as you feel additional help is no longer required.”
Elizabeth felt confident that additional medical support wouldn’t be necessary, but she couldn’t say that she looked forward to spending time alone with Hennessey. What she had done to alter his face was only the be ginning of what Director Calder expected of her.
She settled onto the gurney opposite Agent Hennessey and considered the rest of this assignment. It was her job to en sure that this man could walk, talk and display mannerisms matching those of David Maddox.
Elizabeth knew nothing of David’s work, but she did know the things he talked about when off duty…when in her bed.
“Feels like we’re moving.”
Elizabeth stared down at the man strapped to the other gurney. His mouth and eyes were all that was visible but his voice, the cocky tone that screamed of his arrogant attitude, made him easily recognizable.
“We’re on our way to the safe house,” she explained.
He knew the plan, but the lingering effects of anesthesia and the newly introduced pain medication were playing havoc with his ability to concentrate.
“So I get to spend my first night with you, huh?”
A blush heated her cheeks. Though she doubted Agent Hennessey felt any real discomfort just now, she could not believe he had the audacity to flirt with her.
“In a manner of speaking,” she said calmly. The man could very well be feeling a bit loose-tongued. He might not mean to flirt.
He made a sound in his chest, a laugh perhaps. “I’ve been dying to get you all to myself ever since that night,” he mumbled.
Taken aback, Elizabeth reminded her self that he probably wouldn’t even remember any thing he said. Ignoring the remark was likely the best course.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to let that slip out.”
She’d suspected as much. Swiping her hands on her thighs she sat back, relaxed her shoulders against the empty shelves behind her. “That’s all right, Agent Hennessey,” she allowed, “most patients say more than they mean to when on heavy-duty painkillers.”
He licked his lips and groaned. The doctor in her went on immediate alert. “Are you feeling pain now, Agent Hennessey?” Surely not. He’d been dosed half an hour prior to their departure.
He inhaled a big breath. “No way, Doc, I’m flying over here.” He blinked a few times then turned his head slowly to look at her. “God, you’re gorgeous, did you know that?”
Elizabeth sat a little straighter, tugged at the collar of her blouse to occupy her hands. “You might want to get
some more sleep, Hennessey, before you say something you’ll regret.”
“Too late, right?” He made another of those rumbling sounds that were likely an at tempt at chuck ling. “No big deal.” He waved a hand dismissively. “You already know how gorgeous you are.”
Maybe his hands should have been restrained. He’d been secured to en sure he didn’t roll off the gurney, but his arms had been left free.
“You should lay still, Agent—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he interrupted. “Don’t move, don’t say any thing. That’s what I do best. But at least I’d never lie to you like he did. Never…” His eyes closed reluctantly as if the drugs had belatedly kicked in and he couldn’t keep them open any longer.
Elizabeth let go a breath of relief. She checked his pulse and relaxed a little more when it appeared he’d drifted back to sleep.
Lending any credence to any thing he’d said was ridiculous under the circumstances. The drugs had him confused and talking out of his head. She knew that, had seen it numerous times.
But the part about lying wouldn’t let her put his ramblings out of her mind. What did he mean by that remark?
Nothing, you fool,
she scolded.
She folded her arms over her chest. Then why did it feel familiar? As if he’d said what she’d thought a dozen times over. Because she’d sensed that David had been lying to her for quite some time.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and chastised her self for going down that road. David was dead. What ever he’d said to her, lies or not, no longer mattered. He wasn’t coming back. He was gone for ever.
Dead.
She opened her eyes and stared at the bandaged face of the man lying so still less than two feet from her. Nothing he told her would matter. She’d loved David. He was gone. She wouldn’t be taking that rocky route again any time soon.
Nothing that Agent Joe Hennessey said or did would alter her new course.
As soon as this was over she intended to revive her social life as planned. Start dating again.
It was past time.
J
oe studied his reflection for far longer than the bandaged mug warranted. He didn’t know what he expected to see or what it mattered. The deed was done.
Twenty-four hours had passed since he’d gone under the knife. He pretty much felt like hell. His whole head could be a puffy melon if it weren’t for the pain radiating around his face in ever tightening bands coming to a point at his nose. He’d had his nose broken once, but it hadn’t hurt like this.
He glanced at the table next to his bed. There was medication for the pain, except he preferred to put off taking it until the pain became intolerable.
So far this morning, he had avoided spending much time with the doc. He’d been aware of her coming in and out of his room all during the night to check the portable monitors that provided a continuous score card on his vitals. He’d felt her looking at him each time but
he hadn’t opened his eyes, hadn’t wanted to talk to her. He had a bad feeling he’d already said too much.
That was part of the reason he had no intention of taking any more drugs than necessary. He vaguely recalled making a few ridiculous remarks in the ambulance on the way here.
Joe exhaled a heavy breath. He was thirty-eight years old. He’d been an under cover operative for the CIA for the past ten. He’d been tortured, subjected to all sorts of training to prepare him for said torture, and not once had he ever spilled his guts like he almost had yesterday.
“Real stupid, Hennessey.”
He dragged on his shirt and decided he couldn’t hide out in this room any longer. It was 9:00 a.m. and his need for caffeine wouldn’t be ignored any longer.
Facing the enemy had never been a problem for him. Hiding out from the doc when she was supposed to be on his side bordered on cowardice.
Joe hesitated at the door. He could admit that. It was the truth after all. Why would he lie to him self? The next three weeks were a part of the mission. He’d simply have to get past his personal feelings. Too many lives hung in the balance for him to indulge his personal interests.
His fingers wrapped around the door knob and he twisted, drew back the door and exited the room that provided some amount of separation. All he had to do was maintain his boundaries. No slipping into intimate territory in conversation. No touching. If he followed those two simple rules he wouldn’t have a problem.
The upstairs hall stretched fifteen yards from the room he’d just exited to the staircase. Three other bedrooms and two bathrooms had been carved out of the space. Downstairs was more or less one large open space
that served as living room, kitchen and dining room. A laundry room with rear exit, pantry and half bath were off the kitchen.
The house was located in the fringes of a small Maryland town. There was only one other house on the street and it was currently vacant and for sale. Twenty-four hour surveillance as well as a state-of-the-art security system ensured their safety. A panic room had been installed in the basement. Even if someone got past surveillance and the security system they wouldn’t breach the panic room. Though only twelve-by-twelve, the room was impenetrable and stocked for every imaginable scenario.
The smooth hard wood of the stair treads felt cold beneath Joe’s bare feet. His left hand slid along the banister as he descended to the first floor, the act taking him back a few decades to his child hood. His parents’ home had been a two-story and he and his brother had traveled down the stairs every imaginable way from sliding down the banister to jumping over it. It was a miracle either one of them had survived boy hood.
Joe stopped on the bottom step and hesitated once more before making his presence known.
Doctor Elizabeth Cameron was busy at the sink, filling the carafe to make another pot of coffee, Joe presumed. A glutton for punishment he stood there and watched, unable to help him self.
She’d traded her usual business like at tire for jeans and a casual blouse. He hadn’t seen her like this. She wore generic sweats when she worked out, her scrubs or a business suit including a conservative skirt or slacks the rest of the time. He’d begun to wonder as he watched her over the past couple of weeks if she slept in her work clothes. Her cool, reserved exterior just didn’t lend it self
to the idea of silky lingerie no matter how much she owned.
And yet, when his gaze followed the sweet curves of her body clearly delineated by the form-fitting blue jeans and pale pink top he found him self ready to amend that conclusion.
At about five-four, she would fit neatly into the category of petite with out question, but she was strong. He’d watched her work out. She could run like hell. More than once he’d wished she would wear shorts for her workouts rather than sweatpants, but he never got that lucky. He liked it a lot when she took off those unflattering glasses, which was extremely rare.
Just then she turned around, spotted him and jumped. Her hand flew to her chest. “You scared me!”
He took the final step down as she caught her breath. “Sorry.” And he was, but not about startling her. He was sorry she’d caught him watching her like that. The last thing he needed was her putting together his loopy comments in the ambulance and his gawking this morning and coming up with the idea that he liked her in ways he shouldn’t.
“I was just making a fresh pot of coffee.” She gestured with the carafe. “There’s eggs, bacon and toast. It was delivered about fifteen minutes ago.”
While he was in the shower. Apparently Director Calder didn’t want the good doctor to have to concern her self with preparing meals. Joe’s reputation for lousy cui sine had apparently preceded him.
“Great.” He crossed the room. The closer he got the more her hand shook as she poured the water into the coffee maker. The idea that he made her nervous intrigued him just a little, though it shouldn’t. He imag
ined she was still annoyed about his manhandling three months ago.
“I hope you like it strong,” she commented with out looking at him as she shoved the empty carafe under the drip basket. “At the hospital we prefer it with enough kick to keep us going.”
He stopped three feet away, leaned against the counter. “That’s the only way I drink it.”
She glanced up at him and pushed a smile into place with visible effort. “How do you feel this morning?” Her gaze examined the band ages.
“Like hell,” he admitted. “You didn’t take a baseball bat to my head while I slept last night, did you?”
Worry lined her smooth complexion. “The pain meds should alleviate most of the discomfort.”
Lured by the scent of the brewing coffee, he reached for a mug. She stiffened as his arm brushed her shoulder. “I guess if I took two like you ordered, they might,” he confessed.
She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath of frustration. “Men. You’re all the same. You think taking pain medication makes you look like a wimp. That is so silly. The more pain you tolerate the more adrenaline your body will produce to help you cope. The more adrenaline pumping the less effective the medication you actually do take.”
“Sounds like a vicious cycle, Doc.” He set the mug on the counter. His gut rumbled. “Speaking of vicious.” He glanced at the foam containers. “I’m starved.” He’d had juice and water yesterday. A little soup last night but definitely not enough for a guy accustomed to packing away the groceries.
“You see,” she snapped. “That’s my point exactly.”
He turned back to her. She’d folded her arms over her
chest and now glared at him through those too clunky glasses. Some how he’d pissed her off.
“What?” he asked in the humblest tone he possessed.
“You just ignored what I said.” She gestured to his bandaged face. “You’ve been through extensive surgery and would still be in the hospital if you were one of my
real
patients. Yet you ignore my orders regarding meds. There are reasons the medication is prescribed, Agent Hennessey. What don’t you understand about the process?”
Okay, calm down,
Elizabeth ordered the side of her that wanted to obsess on the subject. She’d let him get to her already and he’d scarcely entered the room. She took a deep breath, tried to slow her racing heart. How did he do this to her just walking into the room?
“Look, Doc.” He leaned against the counter next to her again. “I’m not trying to be cranky. I took the antibiotics. I even took the painkiller, but only one, not two. That dos age dulls my senses. And I need my senses sharp.”
Though, arguably, she could see the logic in what he said, he needed to see hers as well. They were going to be here together for three long weeks. Taking a couple of days to get past the worst of the pain from surgery wasn’t too much to ask in her opinion.
“Agent Hennessey,” she began with as much patience as she could summon, “it wouldn’t kill you to take an additional forty-eight hours of complete downtime.”
He reached around her for the coffee, taking her breath for a second time with his nearness. She hated that he possessed that kind of power over her. Men like him should come with a warning. Don’t get too close. She knew the hazards, had learned them firsthand with
David. And David had been a kitty cat compared to this guy. Hennessey’s unmarred record for getting the job done wasn’t the only thing for which he had a reputation.
He poured him self a cup of coffee then started to put the carafe away. Elizabeth quickly scooted out of his path to avoid another close encounter.
“Trust me, Doc,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. The groan of satisfaction was another of those things she could have done with out. “I’ll be the first to admit it if I can’t handle the pain with out the second pill every four hours. Deal?”
The last time she’d agreed to a deal with him it had landed her here. But then, like him, she had a job to do. People to protect. And maybe that made her an adrenaline junkie, too, although she didn’t think so. Sure, her work for the CIA was covert to a degree, but she only saw it as doing her part. It wasn’t much but it was something.
Did men like Joe Hennessey look at “their part” the same way? She just didn’t know. Figuring out what made him tick wasn’t on her agenda. She’d thought she had David all figured out and she’d been wrong and they’d shared thoughts as well as bodily fluids for more than a year. What could she possibly expect to learn about this man in a mere three weeks?
Nothing useful.
Nothing that would add to the quality of her life or give closure to her past.
Considering those two cold hard facts, her best course of action was to steer clear of emotional entanglement in this situation.
“All right, Agent Hennessey,” she agreed reluctantly. “You’re correct. You are a grown man. The level of pain
you can and are willing to tolerate is your call. Just make sure you take the antibiotics as directed.” She looked him square in the eyes. “That part is
my
call.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The wink immediately obliterated any hope of sincerity in his answer.
She had to get her mind off him. Her gaze landed on the break fast another agent had delivered. Food was as good a distraction as any. Hennessey had said he was hungry.
Each container was laden with oodles of cholesterol and enough calories to fuel an entire soccer team through at least one game. Hennessey didn’t hesitate. He dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. But his enthusiasm waned when the chewing action elicited a new onslaught of pain.
“Sure you don’t want that full dos age?” she asked casually. It wasn’t that she enjoyed knowing he was in more pain than he wanted to admit, but being right did carry its own kind of glee.
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t particularly like the idea that her unnecessary remark only made him more determined to continue with out the aid of additional medication. Maybe she shouldn’t have said any thing at all.
While she picked at the eggs, sausage and biscuits on her plate, he ate steadily, how ever slowly. Oatmeal or yogurt would have been a much better choice. She wondered if he’d been the one to order the food. There hadn’t been any calls in or out. Or perhaps the agent just picked up for them what ever he’d picked up for him self.
Checking on the menu for the next few days might be a good idea.
Elizabeth dropped her fork to her plate. Why had she
done this? Why wasn’t she on that cruise? She could have said no. That wasn’t true.
People will die.
Saying no actually hadn’t been an option.
“Agent Hennessey.”
He met her gaze. “Yeah?”
As much as he tried to hide it she didn’t miss the dull look that accompanied the endurance of significant pain.
She sighed and set her food aside. “Look, let’s not play this game. You’re obviously in pain. I would really feel a lot better if you took your medication.”
“I told you I’m fine.”
The words had no more left his lips than he bolted from the table and headed for the short corridor be yond the kitchen that led to the laundry room and downstairs bathroom.
Instinctively, Elizabeth followed. His violent heaves told on him before she caught sight of him kneeling at the toilet.
He’d been pushing the limits ever since he regained his equilibrium after anesthesia. This was bound to happen.
Ignoring the unpleasant sounds she moved to the wash basin next to him and moistened a washcloth. When he’d flushed the toilet and managed to get to his feet, she passed the damp cloth to him.
“I think you should be in bed.”
“You know what, Doc? I think you’re right.”
Unbelievable. What was most incredible was that he didn’t try to turn her words into something lewd or suggestive.
She followed him up the stairs and into the room he’d used the night before. He climbed between the sheets
with out putting up a fuss. To her surprise he even took the other pain pill she offered with out argument.
“Thanks,” he mum bled, his eyes closed.
When Elizabeth would have moved away from the bed his fingers curled around her wrist and held on. “What’s the rush, Doc?” He tugged her down onto the side of the bed next to him.
She tried to relax but couldn’t. “You should rest.”