Match Play (4 page)

The sight of the TV vans crowding the entrance to his apartment building sent his stomach into a ninety-degree pitch. How had they nosed him out so quickly?

He got the answer when he parked and exited his car amid a swarm of reporters and one of them shoved an early-morning paper in his face.

“Is this you, Captain Harper?”

He could hardly deny the evidence two inches from his nose. There he was, right on the front page, with his arm wrapped around Dayna's waist and his mouth covering hers. While Luke studied the photo, the questions exploded all around him.

“What's the story with you and Dayna Duncan?”

“Are you two picking up where you left off?”

“How long have you been stationed in Scotland?”

“Did Dayna sign up for this tournament so you two could reconnect?”

“Will you be in the gallery to watch her practice round?”

Luke thought fast. The damage was done. If he brushed aside their questions, these bloodhounds would dig until they came up with a story. The only solution he could see at this point was to brazen it out and give them enough juicy copy to satisfy even their voracious appetites.

With a dart of savage satisfaction, he set the stage. “Sure, I'll be there to see her play.”

“She tees off at nine,” another reporter warned after a quick check of his watch.

The perfect exit line, Luke thought as he inserted his key in the door lock. “Guess we'd all better hustle.”

 

It took Dayna three tries before she finally escaped the media frenzy spawned by the photo in the morning paper. Even then reporters trailed her and her partner, Eleanor Tolbert, out of the clubhouse with cameras rolling.

The wind knifed off the bay, making Dayna glad she'd opted for weatherproof microfiber pants and jacket in eye-popping red. The stiff breeze covered the apology she murmured to Eleanor.

“Sorry 'bout all that hoopla.”

“It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you,” the longtime LPGA star said with a smile. “Hel-lo. What's this?”

This,
Dayna discovered, was Wu Kim Li busily signing autographs for her hordes of fans.

The North Korean and her partner had drawn a later time slot and weren't scheduled to tee off for another half hour. If the teen had any regard for links etiquette, she would have delayed her arrival on the course or waited in the clubhouse until called to the tee box. Naturally, such minor considerations as common courtesy and fair play couldn't be expected to keep her from the fawning adoration of her fans.

Wu glanced up as Dayna and Eleanor emerged, trailed by the string of reporters. Abruptly, she shoved the autograph book into the hands of a fan and strolled over to shake hands with her competitors. That was the excuse she gave for getting her face in front of the cameras, anyway.

“I wish you good practice round.”

“Thanks,” Eleanor returned. “Same to you.”

Wu nodded and turned to Dayna. “I see picture of you with boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,
ex
-boyfriend, no difference.” Oozing false sympathy, the teen clucked her tongue. “Both bad for concentration.”

Yeah, right! Nothing like a little psychological warfare designed to throw your opponent off her game.

“You think?”

“I know. I have many boyfriends.”

Sternly, Dayna reminded herself that she was there to cozy up to the girl, not spar with her.

“Maybe we should get together later and compare notes,” she suggested.

Wu's shrug couldn't have conveyed less interest. Without another word, she strolled back to her fans. Eleanor was too seasoned a pro to comment on the exchange, but the look she sent her partner as they walked to the tee box spoke volumes.

All of which Dayna could have put out of her head if she hadn't skimmed a glance around the gallery and spotted Luke Harper.

She could hardly miss him. The man had as many cameras aimed in his direction as Dayna did in hers. All too aware that they'd captured her in midgawk, she responded to Luke's two-fingered salute with a smile that came up just short of friendly.

Dammit! What was he doing here?

Hawk had indicated Harper wasn't happy about his abrupt change in status. Did Luke think Dayna had engineered the move? Was he planning to exact some form of revenge by following her around the course?

If so, he—and Wu Kim Li—had another think coming. Dayna had been forced to shut Luke Harper out of her head once before to win gold. She could—She
would
do the same today.

All she had to do was wait her turn. Step into the box. Tee up. Decide on her line of flight. Address the ball.

Focus.

The noisy crowd quieted. The TV cameras faded. The world diminished to a square patch of green-brown grass and a round white sphere.

Focus.

Her driver rose in a fluid backswing and exploded downward. With a loud crack, the ball flew across a fairway humped with rolling burns and cut a corner of thick brown gorse. It landed dead center less than a hundred yards from the green to a chorus of whoops and shouts.

Dayna couldn't help herself. With a spear of fierce satisfaction, she angled her head until her glance locked with Luke's.

Take that, Harper!

D
ayna finished her first round at six under par—
without
resorting to any of Mackenzie's special aids.

She left the course squinty-eyed from peering into the stiff breeze that had whipped up the contents of St. Andrews' notorious sand traps. Grit clogged Dayna's pores and wild tendrils had escaped her French braid to whip around her face and visor, but she was so pumped from the game she wasn't worried about looking like a walking maypole. Slapping on some lip-gloss, she joined Eleanor in front of the cameras for the obligatory post-round news conference.

Her good mood slipped a little when she was forced to field more questions about Luke Harper than about her game. She kept her cool, however, and joined the other women in the lounge reserved for their exclusive use to watch the last few foursomes finish up.

“That girl's a machine,” one of the pros commented as Wu Kim Li chipped onto the seventeenth green.

When Wu's ball rolled to within three inches of the cup, the gallery exploded. When her amateur partner chipped over the green and into the water, Wu looked as though
she
was going to explode. Her face a thundercloud, the North Korean stalked onto the green and holed out.

Mutters rolled around the lounge but none of the pros would dish a fellow golfer out loud. Dayna was too busy scanning the gallery for Wu's father to pay any attention to the buzz. She spotted the scientist standing at the ropes, shoulder to shoulder with two burly North Koreans. Hawk was also in the crowd just a few yards away.

Anxious to hear whether he'd made contact with the father, Dayna waited with mounting impatience for an opportunity to approach the daughter. It finally came an hour later, after Kim Li had finished her round and postured for the media. When she and her partner entered the lounge, the flame-haired Irish neurosurgeon peeled away from Wu and aimed for the bar. She didn't exude the air of someone who'd enjoyed her first pairing with a pro.

Dayna used that as her cue to head for the locker room. The intel OMEGA had provided indicated Kim Li held to a rigid post-game ritual that included a sauna, a shower and a massage to loosen the tension kinks. Her personal masseuse traveled with her as part of the support team.

The woman—yes, Dayna was sure she was female—had already set up her portable massage table and array of scented oils. Looking like a sumo wrestler in white polyester, she sported bulging muscles and a bulldog neck. Her knuckles rested gorilla-like on the table as she followed Dayna's progress through the locker area to the steam room.

Stripping, Dayna tucked a Turkish towel around her but delayed entering the sauna until she heard Kim Li come into the locker room and exchange a few words in Korean with the masseuse. Luckily, the only other occupant of the steam room exited just as Dayna went in. She had the lung-sucking heat all to herself until Kim Li joined her.

The girl nodded a greeting and dropped onto the opposite bench. Her towel puddled on the bench, baring her above the waist as she leaned back on her elbows. Her exhibitionist sprawl indicated a total lack of self-consciousness. It also let Dayna see the teen wasn't sporting any hidden listening or recording devices.

“You played good game,” the Korean said after she'd settled herself comfortably.

The compliment was grudging at best. Dayna returned it with a smile. “So did you and Dr. Kilkenny.”

“That one! Pah! Her swing is good, but short game needs practice. Much practice.”

“That would require quite a trade-off, wouldn't it?”

“How do you mean, trade-off?”

“If she practiced as much as you suggest, she'd have to cut back on saving people's lives.”

The sarcasm went right over Wu's head.

“Me, I give up much. You, too, I think, for your sport. Kilkenny want to play better, she must practice.”

Good Lord! No wonder the neurosurgeon had aimed straight for the bar.

Deciding she'd better cut to the chase before they were interrupted, Dayna eased into the sensitive subject of defection. “I saw you play at Cypress Point.”

“You watch me on TV?”

“Yes.”

Several times. The videotape of the brief exchange on the eighteenth green was burned into Dayna's brain.

“You said something on the last green.”

Kim Li didn't alter her unselfconscious sprawl, but a sudden, subtle tension infused the damp heat.

“You said you'd be here at St. Andrews,” Dayna said. “You asked your partner to…”

The girl's sudden shift in focus cut her off. Dayna glanced left and saw the sumo wrestler's flat, broad face at the glass insert in the sauna's door. Her eyes narrowed to slits, the masseuse peered through the swirling steam.

She couldn't hear their conversation through the thick glass…unless
she
packed some kind of supersensitive listening device. Probably not, or she wouldn't have advertised her presence at the door. Still, Dayna smothered a curse when Kim Li gathered her towel and draped it around her hips.

“I must go now. Time for massage.”

 

“That's as far as I got,” Dayna related to Hawk when they convened in her suite some hours later.

She'd traded her poppy-red wind suit for tailored gray slacks and a V-necked sweater in white cotton interwoven with shimmering gold thread. Raking a hand through her freshly washed and blow-dried hair, she made a face.

“Kim Li jumped up and scurried out the minute Big Mama showed her face.”

“I didn't fare much better,” Hawk admitted. “Dr. Wu's two escorts never strayed more than a few feet from his side. We did manage a few polite exchanges but nothing that gave any indication of whether he really wants to defect.”

“We'll have to detach one or both from their bodyguards.”

Frowning, Dayna studied the schedule for the remainder of the day. “There's an autographing at four, followed by a silent auction. I'll try to get Kim Li aside during one session or the other.”

“In the meantime, I'll hit the lounge. Dr. Wu's background dossier says he's a Scotch drinker. I noticed he put away two stiff ones at the banquet last night. I figure he might respond to an invitation to sample some of Scotland's finest whiskeys from another aficionado.”

Dayna had never seen Hawk down anything stronger than a beer. “Since when are you a connoisseur of Scotch whiskeys?”

“Since a half hour ago, when I got a crash course from the bartender downstairs. Would you believe they stock more than a hundred different labels? One costs almost fifty British pounds for a single shot.”

“Good grief! A hundred dollars a whiff?”

“All in the line of duty.” Grinning, Hawk pushed out of the easy chair. “I'll let you know later how it goes.”

“Same here.”

Dayna was already strategizing the autographing in her mind when her partner opened the door. He froze for a moment, putting her on instant alert, before making a brief announcement.

“You've got company.”

Kim Li, she thought with a leap of excitement.

She hurried forward. Two skips later came to dead stop. Luke stood in the hall with his feet planted wide and a distinctly unfriendly expression on his face. When his glance cut from Hawk to Dayna, it didn't get any friendlier.

“So you and Callahan know each other.”

“Obviously,” she returned. “Not that it's any of your business.”

“The hell it isn't.”

He started into the room. Hawk blocked his entry with one sidestep.

“I'm not feeling real sociable right now,” Luke warned. “You might want to get out of my way.”

“And you might want to rethink your tone.”

Hawk's drawled reply ratcheted up both the tension and the testosterone. Dayna figured she'd better wade in before blood flowed.

“It's okay, Mike. Let him in.”

Hawk stood aside. After surveying the suite with a narrow glance, Luke brought his gaze back to Dayna.

“Cozy,” he commented, obviously thinking she shared the suite with Hawk. She didn't disabuse him.

“What do you want, Harper?”

“An explanation, for starters. It appears we have a mutual acquaintance in Mr. Callahan here. What's your connection to him?”

Irritated by both his tone and his presence, Dayna struggled to put her personal animosity aside.

Hawk had already relayed his opinion regarding Harper to her and to Lightning. OMEGA's director had given the green light to use the pilot's expertise if necessary. Dayna wasn't ready to include Luke, but she knew she had to feed him sufficient information to keep him from complicating the sensitive op more than he already had.

“Mike and I work together on special projects for the government. You don't need to know the specific project that brought us to St. Andrews. Suffice to say, your detachment's presence at RAF Leuchars was a complication we had to deal with. We couldn't take the chance that…”

“So you got me transferred out of my unit,” he interrupted, his hazel eyes as hard as granite.

“Yes, but…”

“Do you have any appreciation of the impact my abrupt move will have on the other pilots? Guys like Dweeb and Gabe and Alan Parks?”

“I have a general idea.”

“And it doesn't bother you that you've just doubled their cockpit hours, not to mention their exposure to the surface-to-air missiles surrounding the targets we go after?”

Dayna could count on the fingers of one hand the number of men she'd allowed to get this close
or
this hostile.

“Back off, Harper! I have my orders. You have yours.”

“Yeah, well, I suggest you give me a little more detail on just what your orders entail so I don't blow it the next time a reporter shoves a mike at me.”

“I've told you all you need to know.”

“Wrong.”

“Don't push me, Harper. I can't think of anything I would enjoy more than seriously rearranging your pretty face.”

A sardonic glint worked its way through Luke's bristling antagonism. “Seems I recall you wanting to rearrange more than my pretty face, Pud.”

“Don't call me that!”

“You used to like it.”

“I
used
to like a lot of things. That includes you.”

She regretted the childish retort as soon as it was out. They both had too much at stake to indulge in this kind of petty sniping. Disgusted with herself, she turned to Hawk.

“Sorry. You didn't need to hear us slinging around this old baggage.”

“We all collect baggage.”

His quiet admission acted like a sprinkler system on the firestorm of emotions Luke had churned up. Dayna had worked a number of ops with Mike Callahan yet knew so little about the man behind the marksmanship badge. He never talked about his past and she knew better than to ask.

She'd heard rumors about a woman. A DEA agent who'd died in a firefight deep in the jungles of Colombia. Some said she'd gone bad. Some said Hawk had been sent in to uncover the truth. If so, whatever had happened in that steamy green darkness would go to the grave with him.

Unless Gillian Ridgeway pried it out of him. Dayna wouldn't bet on that happening. Then again, Jilly
was
the daughter of two of OMEGA's most skilled operatives.

Callahan could handle that problem when and if it ever arose. He—and Dayna—had other issues to tackle right now. One of which was standing a few feet away.

“I know you don't want to hear this,” Hawk said, breaking into her thoughts, “but Captain Harper has a point. After that photo this morning, the media is going to be on him like crows on road kill.”

“They already are,” she admitted. “He had as many cameras aimed in his direction out on the course as I did.”

“Then you need to hammer out a coordinated response to the barrage you know is going to follow.” His glance cut from Dayna to Luke and back again. “I'll let you decide how much to tell him. Brief me when you're through.”

When the door closed behind him, Dayna's mouth settled into a thin line. Damned if Luke Harper hadn't wormed his way back into her life.

Temporarily.

He'd be out again as soon as she hustled Wu Kim Li and her father onto a plane. With that thought firmly in mind, she forced a show of civility.

“Would you like a drink?”

The stiff set to his shoulders relaxed a little. “Sounds good.”

“Beer, wine or something stronger?”

“A beer's fine.”

She could do this, Dayna told herself as she crossed to the well-stocked minibar and removed two bottles of ale from the fridge. She could bury the past, forget how hungry she'd once been for this man, stay focused on the job ahead.