Read Summer Games Online

Authors: Elizabeth Lowell

Tags: #Romance

Summer Games (38 page)

BOOK: Summer Games
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He stared intently at her, his eyes hard and remote. “What did Blue tell you?”

“Nothing.”

“What the hell do you mean, nothing?” Cord asked savagely.

“Just that,” she shot back, her voice as harsh as his. “Nothing! Not one damn thing. I haven’t heard one word about or from you since you disappeared.”

He closed his eyes for an instant, hardly able to believe. “Christ . . .” His eyes opened pale blue, very clear, blazing with life and hope. “Yet you ran to me.”

“Yes,” she said finally, because he waited for her to answer.

“You cried for me.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And you made love with me as though there was no tomorrow.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is.”

“Not for us. For us there’s only today, now, this instant. In the next instant you could be gone, or the next.”

“No.” Cord’s voice was quiet and very sure.

Raine turned away, not wanting to fight with him, not wanting to face the end of the dream so soon after its beginning. “Have you eaten anything?” she asked, moving to get out of bed.

His hand closed around her arm, chaining her.

She turned to him. “Coffee? Black, no sugar, right?”

“Are those the only questions you have for me?”

“No. But they’re the only ones I’ll ask.”

“Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

She turned her face away, feeling shame crawl redly up her cheeks. “What do they call it?” she asked, her voice shaking. “R and R? Yes, that’s it. Rest and Recuperation. You know, when the soldiers go to town and pick up women.”

“Stop it.”

She turned on him with more despair than anger. “Don’t worry, I can stand the truth. I’m not going to throw you back out into the cold. I’ll be here when you get back the next time, and the next, until you find a woman you want more or you’re killed or I . . .” Her voice frayed into silence.

“Or what?” he demanded harshly. “Until you find a gentleman?”

“Until I stop loving you,” she said, her voice ragged, “whoever you are, whatever your name really is.”

His expression changed, gentleness smoothing the rough edges of his mouth and voice. He pulled her close again, burying his lips in her hair, drinking her sweetness.

“My love, my love,” he whispered, “didn’t Blue tell you anything at all? I turned in my resignation the day after I made love to you the first time. I knew I had to have you, and I knew that you couldn’t live with my work.” He laughed curtly. “Neither could I. Not anymore. One too many battles, one too many wars.”

For a long moment Raine stared into Cord’s clear eyes, afraid to let herself believe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t quit immediately. Not until a certain matter was cleared up. I didn’t know how long that would take.” He closed his eyes briefly, remembering a ravine where darkness fell too slowly and death came too fast. “I was going to wait until after your ride. You had enough to handle with the Olympics. You didn’t need to know that I was facing the most dangerous assignment of my life.”

Her breath wedged. She touched his lips with a hesitant hand. There was no hesitation in the kiss he gave her fingertips.

“I wish I could have seen your gold medal ride,” he said. “But it went blue all the way to the moon.”

She saw the change in him, anger and grief and pain. “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you have to go back soon? Isn’t it finished?”

“It’s finished.”

He closed his eyes, remembering the friend who had fought beside him and lost, the man who would never again mangle Spanish phrases and ask after chess games. But Bonner hadn’t died alone. Cord had made sure of that, despite the hot blood pumping out of the wound in his thigh.

“The terrorist I was after is dead,” Cord said evenly. “Very dead. Another man died at the same time. A good man. The best. So we gave him my identity, and we buried him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“According to official records, Robert Johnstone and an unidentified passenger died tragically in a light plane crash in the Mojave Desert.”

Raine remembered the name Robert Johnstone and realized that her father had given the good-luck coin directly to Robert Johnstone, alias Cord Elliot. No wonder her father hadn’t told her anything; if Cord hadn’t mentioned his real name to her, her father never would.

“Who are you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Cord Elliot,” he answered quickly, almost fiercely. “The man who loves you. The man who’s going to marry you.”

She stared at him, almost afraid to believe. “Are you sure?”

He smiled crookedly. “Yes, I’m sure I love you. Yes, I’m sure I’m going to marry you. And yes, I’m sure my name is Cord Elliot. I have the papers to prove it. Lots and lots of them.”

Raine smiled despite the tears that suddenly appeared on her eyelashes. “Is the ink dry?”

“Of course. I worked for the guy who owns the presses.” His smile faded. “Will you marry a man with no past, a man whose only marketable skill is a certain knack with knot-headed horses? Not that we’ll starve. I haven’t had much to spend my money on through the years.”

She smiled, then kissed him slow and tender and deep. “I’ll marry you on one condition.”

His black eyebrows lifted. “What’s that?”

“That you’ll let me buy this ranch for us.”

His expression changed.

“Don’t you like it here?” she asked quickly. “It’s so beautiful. And Dev loves it. We could buy a few mares and train the foals and—what’s wrong?”

“Do you really like it here?” he asked.

“It was like coming home,” she said simply. “If it hadn’t been for the peace these mountains gave me, I would have gone crazy these last weeks. Can you understand that?”

“Oh yes,” he said softly. “That’s why I bought this ranch five years ago. It kept me sane until I could find you. Will you live here with me, raise four- and two-footed hellions with me?”

Raine bent over Cord, letting her kiss be her answer. When she shifted to lie beside him again, she saw the livid scar. She touched his leg carefully. “Will you be able to ride?”

He laughed. His hand traced her spine, urging her closer. “In a few months, I’ll be as good as ever. Better. I’ll have you.” He nuzzled against her neck, tickled her ear with the tip of his tongue.

“We’ll spend a lot of time riding,” she said dreamily.

“Yeah.” His smile was slow and sexy. “And sometimes we’ll even take horses along.”

Her laugh sounded more like a purr. Her fingertips traced the tendons in his neck and settled on his pulse.

His expression changed as he watched her, saw her pleasure at simply touching him. “Come to me, love. I need that place by your fire.”

“It’s yours. It always has been. It always will be.” She curled against him even as he gathered her close. “All those tomorrows finally belong to us.”

BOOK: Summer Games
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ads

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