Lover, Stranger Part 25

"And so then you decided to approach me." Ethan turned back to the window.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me the truth.

Wouldn't that have been simpler? "

"Maybe," Grace agreed.

"But I couldn't take that chance. I had no reason to believe you'd be willing to cooperate. Why would you?"

"I don't know," he said flippantly.

"To save my life, maybe? Because it would have been the decent thing to do?"

Grace said nothing.

After a moment, Ethan said, "I guess my amnesia was a bonus for you then."

She didn't bother to deny it.

"It made you vulnerable. You couldn't go to the police without incriminating yourself. And without a memory, without knowing who wanted you dead, you couldn't protect yourself, either. I made sure you had to turn to me."

He winced at that.

"Tell me something, Grace. How far were you willing to go to get my cooperation?"

"I already told you. Whatever was necessary."

"Did that include this?" He turned suddenly and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. His eyes were dark and turbulent, his expression like an icy mask. When he kissed her, Grace's first instinct was to push him away, to somehow try and regain control of the situation.

But a split second later, she felt the ice inside him begin to melt.

She knew, instinctively, what he wanted at that moment. What he needed.

She kissed him back with every ounce of her strength. With every fiber of her being. With every emotion that raged through her mind and body and soul.

When he finally pulled away, they both stood shaken by the experience.

Grace's knees trembled weakly, but she forced herself to remain steady, to stare up at him as openly and honestly as she dared.

"That was never a lie," she finally whispered.

"The way I feel about you is something I never counted on."

His hands were still on her shoulders. He stared down at her for a long time, his breathing ragged. "How do you feel?"

Grace's heart pounded against her chest. It had been a long time since she'd had a conversation like this. Since she had felt this exposed "It's like you said once. We're connected somehow. I don't understand it, but ... it's more than just attraction. It's as if..."

"We're meant for each other," he said.

Grace closed her eyes.

"But I can't feel that way. I can't let my emotions get in my way. I can't forget who I am or what I have to do.

And I can't forget who you are, either. "

"Who I am." His hands dropped from her shoulders and he turned and walked away from her.

Grace hesitated, unsure whether or not to follow him. But he didn't go far.

He walked to the center of the room and stood looking around, as if he suddenly realized he didn't belong there.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything, then he turned to her. His gaze was shadowed with an emotion that made Grace's breath quicken.

"I'm not the man you think I am."

"You've said that before." She moved across the room toward him. ' "And I think I understand why you feel that way. It's like there're two sides of you. One man operates on criminals' faces for money, while the other can change monsters into angels. That man can give children without hope a whole new life. That's the man you really are, Ethan. That's the man you remember. The other one doesn't seem real to you because you don't want to be him."

Uncertainty nickered in his eyes. Then his gaze darkened again.

"That's a rather whimsical explanation for an FBI agent, Grace. I don't think you buy it any more than I do."

"You're wrong. I do believe it." On impulse, Grace put a hand on his sleeve, felt him tense at her touch. "I know there's something fine and decent about you. I know there's goodness in you, just like there's darkness." She paused, searching for the right words. "Who knows what brings that darkness to the surface, but I think we all have the capacity for it. I think there's darkness in all of us."

His brow lifted at that.

"Even you?"

She gave a bitter little laugh.

"Maybe even especially me. I'm not sure I'm in any position to judge you, no matter what you've done."

He didn't seem to hear her. He'd turned away and walked back over to the window to stare out. After a bit, he said, "It's been a long day and I'm beat. We can talk about this in the morning, decide what to do then."

Grace had brought a bag over earlier before they'd gone to the Huntington, but after her confession, she wasn't sure he'd let her stay. But it appeared now that he'd accepted her presence, and for the time being at least, wasn't going to ask her to leave. Grace was glad. She would hate to have to force the issue now.

"That's probably a good idea," she agreed.

"We could both use some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

She waited for him to turn and acknowledge her leaving, but he remained at the window, his back to her. He didn't even say good-night, and after a moment, Grace turned and left the room.

had known. He couldn't say her revelation had come as that much of a shock.

He'd always known there was something Grace wasn't telling him. That there was more to her than a grieving sister.

No wonder she had seemed so confident in her ability to deal with Trevor Reardon. She was trained to deal with the likes of him.

Ethan thought about that for a moment. How did that make him feel? he wondered. Knowing that Grace was an agent who had not only been sent here to find Rear- don, but to also protect Ethan in the process. How did he feel about his life being put in a woman's hands? In Grace's hands?

He tried to muster up the requisite resentment, but it wasn't in him.

There were too many other things about the situation that troubled him more.

The fact that she had lied to him, deceived him into believing she was Amy's sister. The fact that those lies had seemed so easy for Grace.

He'd been a means to an end for her. It was as simple as that.

Oh, he knew she was attracted to him. She couldn't hide it and she hadn't bothered to deny it. But her desire to find Trevor Reardon far exceeded her desire for Ethan, and that fact bothered him the most.

She was a consummate professional before she was a woman, and Ethan knew that situation wasn't likely to change any time soon. At least not for him.

He remembered the way her eyes had burned with an inner fire when she'd first told him about Reardon, and an uneasiness Ethan couldn't explain swept over him.

What was it about Reardon that made Grace so pas r sionate in her hatred of him, that made her almost careless in her pursuit of him?

What had made this a.s.signment so personal for her? Ethan knew the answer even before the question had completely formed in his mind, and a sick feeling rose in his throat as he stood staring out into the darkness.

grace stood wrapped in a towel at the bathroom mirror as she blow-dried her short hair. Afterward, she gazed at her reflection for a long time, wondering if she had done the right thing by telling Ethan as much as she had. But she hadn't really had a choice. Once he'd decided to go to the police with the story, she'd had to tell him the truth, and trust that he would continue to cooperate with her.

But why should he? She'd lied to him, deceived him at every possible turn.

Why would he want anything more to do with her?

The end may have justified the means, but right now, Grace was having a hard time dealing with her conscience. She had deliberately put Ethan's life on the line in order to capture Reardon, and she hadn't even had the decency to tell him why. At least not completely.

Her past was something Grace had never told anyone. She couldn't even talk about it with Myra. What Trevor Reardon had done to her and her family was too personal, and Grace had never gotten over the guilt, let alone the shame.

She hadn't told Ethan because she hadn't wanted to see the disgust in his eyes over what she had done.

Grace didn't want to see it in her own eyes, either. She turned away from the mirror and walked into the euest bedroom where she'd left her suitcase earlier.

Digging through the contents, she pulled out a pair of white silk pajamas and put them on. As she was turning down the bed, the door behind her opened.

Grace grabbed her gun from the top of the night- stand, going instantly into a crouch while, with a two- handed grip, she swung the weapon toward the door.

Ethan stood just inside the room, his gaze going first to the gun in her hand, then to her face. He wore jeans, no s.h.i.+rt, and his dark hair glinted with moisture, as if he'd just come from the shower.

Grace's hand trembled on the weapon as she stared at him, her awareness of him surging over her in a crest of heat.

As he walked into the room, she hesitated, then slowly lowered the weapon.

She placed it on the night- stand behind her.

Ethan came over and stood in front of her. He didn't touch her, but his nearness made Grace's breath quicken. The look on his face made her heart pound inside her. She was tempted to put her hands on his bare chest, to feel the hardness beneath her fingers.

"You're her, aren't you?"

Grace stared up at him as a shock wave rolled over her.

"What are you talking about?"

"The FBI agent's daughter you told me about. The only one in his family who didn't get killed in the fire. The one Trevor Reardon came back for. You're her."

She turned away, but he put his hands on her arms, forcing her to face him.

She didn't want to. She didn't want to see the look in his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"I couldn't. After all these years, it's still too... painful." And she still couldn't look at him.

He put one hand under her chin, tilting her head up so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze. What she saw in his eyes wasn't disgust. It was another emotion that took Grace's breath away.

"What happened that night?" he asked softly.

"Please." Her eyes closed briefly.

"I can't talk about it. I've never talked about it."

"Don't you think it's time you did?"

"It's too personal." She put trembling fingertips to her lips.

"I.

don't think I can tell you. I don't think I want you to know. "

"You said earlier that you weren't in any position to judge me. That goes both ways, Grace."

When she looked up at him, his eyes were so dark and so haunted, she thought for a moment she was staring at her own reflection. She took a step back from him, and he let her go.

He walked to the window to stare out into the darkness.

"I think I may be exactly the person you need to talk to." There was something about his voice that was different.

Grace s.h.i.+vered, staring as his profile. After a moment, she said, ' "My father was the agent who arrested Reardon. The FBI had been after him for a long time, years. After he left the military, he became a killer for hire, an a.s.sa.s.sin at first, taking out government officials in foreign countries and certain high-powered businessmen for money. Then he fell in with some zealots in the Middle East and discovered they were willing to pay big bucks to someone with his expertise to carry out their dirty work. The notoriety appealed to Rear- don, as did the money. And the killings."

She paused, trying to get her thoughts in order. Trying to dispel the tormented images twisting and turning in her mind.

"My father tracked him for over two years and was finally able to arrest him.

But before Reardon could stand trial, he escaped. I'd heard my father mention his name at the time of the arrest, but he never told us about Reardon's escape.

I guess he didn't want to worry us, and I don't think he really believed Rear- don would come after him. He thought Reardon would flee the country, but my father underestimated Rear- don's obsession with order, with tying up loose ends. "

Ethan glanced at her then, but he still said nothing.

Grace took a long breath and continued.