Strangers When We Married. Carla Cassidy

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Strangers When We Married - Carla Cassidy


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faces in his dream, merely served to further tighten his muscles and sicken his gut.

      Back home, it would be cold enough to snow. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Washington, D.C., was beautiful in the snow, the stately buildings and picturesque homes with a glistening frosting and dangling shiny icicles.

      He frowned and focused his gaze on the sky overhead. D.C. hadn’t been his home for a very long time. Almost two years.

      The brilliant stars faded as images flashed through his mind, images of a quaint town house in Georgetown, and a woman with eyes the color of a mysterious forest and a mane of curly red hair.

      Meghan. He remembered tangling his hands in that glorious hair, kissing sweet, full lips until they were swollen. The memory of their lovemaking was seared into his head. Hot. Hungry.

      Swearing beneath his breath, he whirled around and placed his hands on the rough edge of the stone wall, beyond which was a deep, deadly ravine.

      “Contemplating jumping?” The deep male voice came from behind him and he turned around to see Easton “East” Kirby eyeing him soberly.

      “You know me better than that,” Seth scoffed. “I’ve never been one to take the easy way out.” He once again turned to face the ravine. “How did you know I was out here?”

      East joined him at the wall. “When you came down for supper last night, I knew you were coiled too tight to sleep the night through. I’ve had one ear to the floor for the last couple of hours.”

      Seth forced a small smile. “A position like that makes it hard to make love to your wife, doesn’t it?”

      East laughed, the deep, low chuckle of a contented man. “Don’t you worry about Alicia’s and my love life. We manage fine, thank you.”

      Considering the fact that East’s wife, Alicia, was almost five months pregnant, it was obvious they did manage their personal relationship fine, as well as managing the Condor efficiently.

      For a moment the two men stood side by side, both of them staring out into the shadowed darkness before them. Around them night creatures rustled in the underbrush, a light ocean breeze stirred the leaves of nearby trees and somewhere in the distance a coyote howled its malcontent.

      “I screwed up.” Seth turned and stared at East’s face, focusing on the man’s eyes to see if there was any hint of censure there. “I screwed up and a lot of good agents fell.”

      He drew a deep, ragged breath as he saw no censure, no judgment in East’s eyes, and had instinctively known that he wouldn’t.

      “Those men knew the risks and if I were you, I’d be hesitant to accept full blame for a blown sting operation.”

      “I’m placing blame where it belongs,” Seth said darkly. “Hell, it’s obvious the agency blames me since they sent me here.”

      East chuckled once again. “I’ve never heard anyone before consider coming here as a punishment.” His laughter died and Seth felt his gaze on him. “Jonah sent you here because you needed to put things in their proper perspective, because you need to rest and make sure your head is on straight before they send you out again.”

      “What did Jonah tell you about all this?” Seth’s stomach knotted up as he thought of the man he’d give his life for, a man he’d never actually met in person.

      Jonah was the head of SPEAR, the covert government agency that gave Seth his orders…the agency that gave Seth a reason for his existence. SPEAR, an acronym that defined all that Seth was as a man. Stealth, Perseverance, Endeavor, Attack and Rescue, an organization to which Seth had pledged his honor, committed his life, and would die for if necessary.

      East shrugged his broad shoulders in answer to Seth’s question. “You know Jonah…a man of few words. All he said was that the sting was successful in that SPEAR is now in possession of the weapons Simon intended to acquire.”

      Seth frowned at the name of the man who was attempting to destroy not only Jonah, but the entire SPEAR organization. “Yeah, we got the guns, but Simon escaped…along with seven hundred pounds of uncut heroin.” Again a wave of anger and guilt bludgeoned Seth from within. Dammit, it had been his operation. How in the hell had it all fallen apart?

      East emitted a low whistle. “Seven hundred…street value will be astronomical.”

      “Don’t remind me.”

      Again the two men fell silent. Seth stared out into darkness, his mind whirling in chaos. At the same time his mind reeled, he drew in deep breaths in an attempt to give an outward appearance of calm.

      “I think maybe I’ll do a little hiking in the morning,” Seth said, although a trek through nature was the furthest thing from his mind.

      East nodded with obvious approval. “Nothing like fresh air and exercise to cleanse the spirit.”

      Seth forced a yawn. “I’d like to head out at before sunrise, so I guess I’ll go back to my room and see if I can catch a couple more winks.”

      East nodded once again. “Seth, if you need to talk…or anything, you know Alicia and I are available any time.”

      Seth clapped the tall, powerfully built man on the shoulder. “Thanks, East. I’ll be fine.” Without waiting for a reply, aware of East’s speculative gaze on him, Seth turned and went back the way he had come.

      Once inside the privacy of his room, he sat on the edge of the bed, allowing his thoughts full rein. Dead agents…a wealth in dope…and Simon. His mind reeled with frustration, regret and anger.

      He remained seated on the bed for a little over an hour, hoping to allow enough time to pass to ensure that East and his wife were sound asleep.

      Thankfully, he hadn’t unpacked his things the day before when he’d arrived. The small black bag by the door held everything he needed to live, including two sets of false identification…identification he couldn’t use because he didn’t want anyone, especially not the superiors who had provided the false credentials, to know where he was going or what he was doing.

      He zipped the bag and with the stealth of a wildcat, opened the door and crept down the hallway in the opposite direction he’d gone earlier.

      Not wanting to use the front door in the lobby area, he headed for a little-used service door in the kitchen. He pulled the door open and hesitated in the threshold, torn between duty and desire, following rules or breaking them.

      He knew if he walked through the door and into the night, he’d be AWOL. He wasn’t sure what repercussions to expect, knew that he’d be considered a renegade agent, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

      He had to get out of here. Another minute of this peace and tranquillity would kill him. Seth was accustomed to action and he had a definite plan in mind.

      Without further hesitation, he stalked out of the door and into the night. The darkness surrounded him, and his dark jeans and shirt camouflaged him as he walked further and further away from the resort.

      He needed some answers. Sooner or later Simon would sell the 700 pounds of heroin for cash and more weapons, ammunition he could use to further his destruction of Jonah and SPEAR.

      Seth knew only one person who had the sharp intelligence, the innate shrewdness and skilled computer expertise to help him find Simon and the missing drugs.

      His ex-wife.

      Meghan.

      Of course, before he could get her to agree to help him, he’d have to get her to agree to at least see him, talk to him. And that might be far more difficult than finding a cunning, traitorous criminal named Simon.

      Meghan Greene believed in the comfort of rituals. She always had a glass of wine before dinner, no matter how long the meal might be postponed.

      Despite exhaustion and late hours, she always rubbed hand lotion on her legs and elbows


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