My Spy (13 page)

“All in due time.”

Keys rattled at the side door. Sam tried to sit up, but Annie held him still.

“Anybody home?” Izzy opened the door from the patio,
looking from Annie to Sam. “Am I interrupting something? This feels like the last episode of
Survivor.
”

Neither Annie nor Sam laughed.

Izzy crossed his arms. “Let's have it. Why all the tension?”

“Because Sam's being an idiot.”

“A macho hero idiot,” Sam offered dryly.

“He could have hurt himself badly.”

“But I didn't.”

“How do you know?” Annie shot back. “That elbow is probably a mess inside.”

“My body, my choice.”

“Whoa.” Izzy stood carefully between them. “Take it easy, you two. I'll check Sam out. As it happens, the team from Bethesda just sent me some more equipment, and I have to run tests on him anyway. Looks like my medic training's going to be helpful.”

Sam muttered a few pithy phrases, which Izzy ignored as he reached into his jacket.

“By the way, here's that refill for painkillers.”

Annie stared at the bottle. “When did he run out of pills?”

“Last night. I ordered more as soon as the pharmacy opened.”

“You lied to me.” Annie glared at Sam. “Why am I surprised? Mr. Macho all the way, aren't you?”

“I work better when I can feel my body.” Sam grimaced, as if looking for a comfortable position. “You're making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Am I? Maybe we should just quit right now. Otherwise, I might murder you myself.”

“Hell of a way to go, Doc,” he murmured. “I could die of pleasure from one of your massages.”

Annie picked up the blue exercise ball and tossed it to Izzy. “Call me when the Boy Wonder here grows up. Until then, this is a complete waste of everyone's time.”

“W
ANT
TO
TELL
ME
WHAT
THAT
WAS
ALL
ABOUT?” IZZY WATCHED
Annie stalk out of the room, then turned to study Sam.

“I got her steamed.”

“No kidding.”

“I didn't tell her about the pain pills,” Sam said tightly. “Then I asked if she was involved with anyone.”

“Not your business, is it?” Izzy stared at the bar of sunlight cutting across the exercise mat. “I suggest you spend your time getting well, not asking Annie personal questions. How's your shoulder?”

Sam rotated his arm slowly. “It hurts.”

“How much?”

“Like a fragmentation grenade.”

“I take it you didn't tell Annie that.”

Sam merely snorted.

“She's got a point, macho man. She's supposed to be clued in so she can monitor your progress.”

“You want me to snivel about every little ache and pain?”

“We're not talking about little aches and pain. Annie's your on-site caregiver, and she needs to know if you've taken your meds or not.”

Sam's mouth flattened. “You, too?”

“Face it, friend. You're an important asset to the U.S. Navy, and I'm under orders to get you back on your feet pronto. Don't make my job any harder than it is.”

“The woman makes me nervous. I don't know why, but she does.” Sam stretched out on the mat and glared up at the ceiling. “And to hell with dredging up an hourly list of physical
complaints. I don't want anyone tallying my vital signs and medications. I just want to be left alone to recover.”

“No can do, sailor. You need Annie's help to recover. Do you think the major league football teams send their golden boys to just anyone?”

Sam sighed. “She definitely knows her stuff. I can feel every muscle after that workout she designed. The moves were just hard enough.”

“Damned right she's good, so start paying attention. You two have to communicate or she'll pull the plug. She's serious about this.”

Sam eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know her so well? Are you two involved?”

Izzy's expression didn't change. “What if we were?”

“I'd wish you well.” Sam sat up awkwardly, glad to take Izzy's hand when it was offered. “And then I'd try like hell to take her away from you.”

“Save your effort. We're not involved. I doubt that Annie's been involved very often. From what I can see, her work comes first.”

“Been reading her file?”

“No need. Spend two hours watching her juggle demanding guests and complicated staff assignments and you'll see for yourself.” Izzy crossed his arms. “How interested are you?”

Sam reached for his crutches and heaved himself to his feet. “Enough to wonder what makes Annie O'Toole tick.” He studied his fingers, which were wrapped around the handle of the crutch. “You could help by finding out if there's anyone special in her life.”

“Answer the question. How personal is this becoming, McKade?”

“I'm not sure. After all, everything's personal.” Sam smiled tightly. “And everything's professional. I think Khrushchev said that.”

“Or Bill Gates.”

“Let's say I was
very
interested in her.” Sam glared at the exercise ball. “What would I do about it? My memory's a little rusty and I keep coming up blank as far as recent social encounters.” He frowned. “If you know what I mean.”

Izzy cleared his throat. “Are you asking me for dating tips?”

“Hell, no. I just have a few general questions. You could steer me straight. Like that.”

“Shoot.”

Sam toyed with his towel. “If this was a normal situation, I'd ask her out for dinner. Maybe take her to a noisy country place for some dancing. But this isn't a normal situation,” he said grimly. “What would a woman like Annie want? Hell, I'm in a brace and I'm sleeping in her guest bedroom.”

“Maybe you should decide what
you
want first. Your life isn't exactly your own right now, McKade.”

“I keep telling myself that. But there's something about her, some kind of electric hum whenever I'm around her. It just keeps pulling me in.” He tossed down his towel. “This makes absolutely no sense,” he said in disgust. “We're strangers and this is business. Why should I be thinking about her as if—as if it's personal?”

“You tell me.”

“Maybe it's the way she smiles when I get something right. Or maybe it's that don't-mess-with-me look she flashes when she thinks I'm pushing too hard.”

“Which is just about always,” Izzy said dryly.

“Look, are you going to give me advice or not?”

“I thought you said you didn't want—”

“Never mind. She's not the only woman in the world. It's just this crazy situation, with the two of us cooped up together. That's all it is.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Damned right.” Sam rubbed his neck. “Forget I ever brought it up.”

He looked at the bottle of pills on the nearby table. “Let's get these tests done, Einstein. I don't want to throw off my results by taking any meds beforehand.”

“You're a real hard case, you know that?”

“I try my damnedest.” Sam moved awkwardly to the door and stopped when he saw the elaborate equipment lining the terrace. “What's that, retrofitting for the Mir space station?”

“Close. This baby does everything but give next year's stock quotes. Once I get you hooked up, the boys at Bethesda will be pulling in EKGs, blood pressure, and muscle diagnostics while you go through prearranged workouts.”

“Whoopee. I always wanted to be a human guinea pig,” Sam said darkly.

“A very high-profile human guinea pig,” Izzy murmured as he watched Sam sit down and go to work.

P
AIN
CRAWLED
ALONG
HER
SHOULDERS
AND
HER
STOMACH growled.

Annie ignored both.

Her morning meeting with her accountant had quickly gone from bad to worse. As always, he railed at her for keeping too many personnel on her payroll and for giving them too many benefits. Annie explained for the hundredth time that a resort was nothing without excellent, experienced staff in a high ratio to the guests.

The accountant had yawned, the way he always did.

Ignoring her irritation, Annie grabbed a cup of coffee and a handful of trail mix, then headed into her office to scroll through the morning's E-mails and sign off on a dozen faxes. After that she had to check an order for aromatherapy oils and finish planning next month's wine tasting.

She was halfway through when her desk phone rang.

“You've got to get down here, boss.”

Annie recognized the note of hysteria in her assistant's voice.
“More rabbits, Megan? If the new cedar whirlpool has overflowed I'm going to shoot someone.”
Maybe myself
, she thought.

“No, it's Mr. Congeniality and he's on the warpath.”

“Tucker Marsh? What has he found to complain about?”

“Where should I start? Not enough Cybex equipment. Not enough trainers. Not enough towels. There was something else, but I couldn't make it out. And I swear to heaven, he's wearing a cashmere warm-up suit. Genuine cashmere. He's headed your way, so brace for impact.”

As Annie put down her phone, she heard footsteps in the corridor. Thanks to Megan's call, she was waiting for Marsh with a confident smile.

And he really
was
wearing cashmere, she saw.

She steepled her fingers calmly. “Is there a problem, Mr. Marsh?”

He took the power spot, bracing one hip on her desk and smiling down at her. “Not if you can explain why I can't get a massage and no trainers are available.”

“We have two trainers on duty today.”

“Both of them are busy,” the lawyer said tightly. “I couldn't even speak to them directly.”

“I'm sorry for the wait, but you were notified that some of our services would be scaled back this week. You insisted on staying anyway.”

“No trainers. No massages available until late tonight.” His brow rose. “I can't even arrange a decent meal.”

“The menu has been reduced only slightly,” Annie countered. “Any reasonable requests will be cheerfully honored. I'll be happy to talk to the chef personally.”

The lawyer shook his head coolly. “Forget the menu. I'd rather have you fit me in for a massage. I'm told you're dynamite.”

If reptiles could smile, they would look like this, Annie thought. “I'm afraid that won't be possible.”

“Why, Annie?” He leaned in closer. “You don't mind if I call you Annie, I hope.” He reached out, brushing her arm with a gesture that looked carefully casual.

Annie stared down at his hand. “Actually, I do mind. And I would prefer that you remove your hand.”

He looked down and laughed. “Can't say I noticed.”

Like hell you didn't
, she thought.

She waited for him to move his hand before speaking. “Perhaps you should reschedule your visit, Mr. Marsh. I'm sure you'd be more comfortable when our full staff is present.”

He smiled, his teeth very white and perfectly capped. “I don't believe I will.”

Annie said nothing as she moved around the desk, out of reach of his carefully orchestrated touches. “I'm sorry to hear that. Since you choose to remain, you'll need to understand that some services may be restricted.”

“All I really want is a deep-tissue massage. My partner's wife is still raving about your magic touch.” He smiled thinly. “Apparently you made time stand still for her.”

Suppressing a shudder, Annie crossed to the door. “The circumstances were different last year when Ms. Winston visited.”

Marsh ignored her pointed position at the door. “Everyone has been asking about Summerwind. I would hate to give a negative report.”

“Any travel agent will confirm that what agrees with one guest may not work for another. That is one reason we do no advertising and rely on referrals from satisfied guests.”

Marsh followed her with sharp eyes. “I'd hate to break your winning streak.” He moved closer, resting his hand on her shoulder. “On the other hand, I'm sure we can find a satisfactory resolution. Perhaps over a quiet dinner?”

Annie felt the first stab of uneasiness. “I'm afraid that won't be possible. I have other plans for the evening.”

For the merest moment, his hand tightened. Annie stepped away, holding the door open pointedly.

Marsh's face suffused with color. “I like a good challenge, Ms. O'Toole. Any of my clients will tell you I thrive on it.”

“I'll be sure to remember that. Was there anything else?”

His eyes turned icy. “Just one. Tell your security man to stay out of my way. I don't like being followed.”

Annie blinked. “You mean Reynaldo?”

“Not him. A big, muscular fellow in a blue nylon windbreaker.”

Izzy.

“I'm sure that was a simple misunderstanding.”

“No, I was hiking past the gardening shed and he warned me off.”

“That path leads up to my private quarters. It's always closed to guests.”

Marsh's eyes narrowed. “Funny, I didn't notice any signs.”

“There are two of them, clearly posted.” Annie fought to keep her voice calm.

“Maybe I wasn't paying attention.” Marsh shrugged. “All I wanted to do was to enjoy the grounds. Heaven knows, the last thing I wanted to do was disturb your privacy.”