Suzanne Brockmann - Team Ten 07 - The Admiral's Bride Page 14

  Wes shook his head. "You think you're kidding, but it's true. You're a babe magnet. When Zoe first walked into that meeting at the Pentagon, I cursed you out, Lieutenant, sir, because it seemed inevitable she would take one look at you and not even talk to the rest of us."

  "As soon as this assignment's over," Lucky said with a sigh as he watched Zoe on the screen, "she's mine." He smiled. "Hey, it might be fun to actually have to chase a woman for a change."

  "It's not going to happen," Bobby said. "She's got a jones for Jake."

  "Since when are you on a first-name basis with an admiral?" Wes asked.

  The enormous SEAL shrugged. "Since I found a copy of that book Zoe was talking about. It was in the library. Jake's pretty amazing. The things he did with explosives... The man's an artist. You should read it."

  "Yeah," Wes said. "Right. Read. Maybe in my next lifetime. So where exactly is Admiral Amazing?"

  Bobby took over the command keyboard and started to type, and on one of the screens a rapid-fire sequence of empty corridors began to appear.

  "He just had a private meeting with Christopher Vincent," Lucky reported. "He endured the slimeball's company for more than two hours just to get a chance to ask him about this bogus birthday celebration. And when he finally did get down to business, Vincent tells him he's got to pledge all he's got to the CRO if he wants to be privy to CRO secrets. The admiral says, great. I'm ready to do that. Right now. Let's go. But Vincent says no. Not till after the honeymoon, essentially ordering the admiral to go back to his quarters and get busy with his new wife for the next three days."

  "Perfect," Wes said, scoffing. "Zoe goes to all this trouble to get inside the compound, thinking it'll speed up the search, but what it really does is slow things down." ._ "Got him," Bobby said.

  On screen, the admiral was heading down the corridor that led to his room. His pace slowed as he approached the door, and he paused for a moment outside, just staring at the knob.

  "Oh, man," Lucky said. "I'd be knocking the door down, I'd be in such a hurry to get inside that room."

  On the two screens that still showed two different angles inside the room, Zoe put down her book and looked toward the door.

  It didn't open, and she slowly sat and then stood up, staring at it.

  Outside the room, the admiral took a deep breath and finally reached for the doorknob.

  Bobby keyed in the third of the bedroom cameras, and from the new angle, as the door opened, Lucky could see the man's face.

  On screen, Zoe visibly relaxed. "I didn't realize it was you. I heard footsteps stop right outside the door and..."

  The admiral turned to close and lock the door behind him. "Sorry I took so long. Chris can really keep a conversation going. I was a little afraid you might've gone out looking for me."

  "Why would I do that?" she asked. "I knew where you were. Besides, you told me I had to stay here."

  He turned to look at her, smiling slightly. "I guess I just—"

  That was when he noticed what she was wearing.

  "Boing!" Wes said. "Hel-lo, Mrs. Robinson. How are you this evening, dear?"

  Lucky didn't know how he did it, but the admiral managed to keep his tongue securely in his mouth as he gazed at Zoe and her incredible nightgown.

  The tension in the room was palpable, though. It carried through the airwaves all the miles across the valley, through the receiver, through the wires that led to the video monitors in the trailer.

  Zoe spoke so softly, Lucky had to turn the volume up.

  ' 'I was just... reading. I was tired so I... got ready for bed a little while ago and..."

  "Are you going to be..." The admiral cleared his throat. "Warm enough in that?"

  "I don't have anything else."

  "No flannel pajamas?"

  Zoe laughed, a nervous burst that she tried to squelch. "It's pretty warm in here."

  Well, that was the understatement of the year. Lucky could practically feel the heat rising from the screens.

  Jake took his wallet and a set of keys from his pockets and put them on top of the long, low dresser. "You know if you're tired, and I'm not here, you don't have to wait up for me."

  "The idea of waiting up for you isn't a particularly appealing one," Zoe said. "Is it going to happen frequently?"

  "Well, you know, I hope not—" Jake moved toward her ''—but if evening is the only time Christopher can schedule to meet with me—"

  She moved out of his reach. "What's the deal with this place, Jake? When am I going to be able to leave this room?" She lifted her chin, made her voice louder, sharper. "What exactly do people do here for fun? Someone told me today that CRO women aren't allowed to go into Mel's. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want my old job back, but I'd like a chance to go grab a beer if I want to. And if I'm not allowed to do that, when am I supposed to get a chance to kick back?"

  "She's picking a fight," Bobby said. "Way to go, Zoe."

  "And is it true what I've heard?" she added. "That in three days I'm supposed to join some sort of chain-gang work detail and clean all day long?"

  The admiral gave her one of his let's-keep-this-in-perspective smiles. "I'm sure it's not all day lo—"

  "While you do what? Stand around and be good-looking?"

  Jake laughed aloud, and Zoe's expression got even more fierce.

  "You think this is funny?" she said. "Then you go clean. I'll sit around with the guys."

  "I'm sure I'll get to do my share of the cleaning. It's just they've found this place runs a little better if the women are organized in teams and—"

  "So it is true," she said.

  "It's just the nature of the commune, babe. Everybody's got to chip in."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear what it is you're going to be doing? Sitting around burping all day with the rest of the men?"

  Wes laughed out loud.

  "And what about those three princesses and their ugly little babies?" Zoe continued. "They got served at dinner just like the men."

  "Those are Christopher's wives and kids. You know, he's a little eccentric, he's got—"

  "Three wives. I know. I saw their rooms. They don't have peeling paneling on their walls."

  Jake reached for her again, pulling her into his arms. But she stood there stiffly, angrily. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, but she didn't move. She just stood there, straight as a rod. He tried to kiss her lips, but she moved her head and his mouth glanced off her ear.

  "I'm really tired," she said tightly, pulling free from him. "I'm going to sleep."

  "Oh," Lucky said, making a face. "The freeze-out. The temperature in the room just dropped to a frightening fifteen below."

  As Jake watched, Zoe climbed into bed, turned on her side and clutched the blankets to her chin.

  "Come on, Admiral," Wes said to the screen. "No self-respecting man would just stand there and watch his plans to get it on go up in smoke."

  "Any self-respecting man caught in this situation would

  definitely drop to his knees and beg," Lucky agreed. "Honey, I'm so sorry. Of course I want to go to your crazy parents' house on the one weekend I have off this year...."

  Wes nodded. "Of course I want to sell my racing boat and buy a washer and dryer."

  "Of course I want to poke myself in the eye with this sharp stick. I don't know what I was thinking...."

  "Zoe." On screen, the admiral sat down on the other side of the bed.

  Zoe was absolutely silent.

  "I'm sorry, babe. I thought you knew what this place was all about."

  Nothing.

  "Come on, Admiral Amazing. Down on your knees. Climb under the covers and get to work. Do something or this glacier's gonna freeze you to death."

  Jake just sighed. "We can talk about this more in the morning." He stood up and tiredly went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  "He's just giving up," Lucky said.

  "That's the point. He doesn't want to touch her," Bobby said. />
  "He's nuts. Why the hell doesn't he want to touch her?"

  "He doesn't want to touch her because he wants to touch her," Bobby explained.

  Lucky looked at Wes. "They're pretending to be married. So instead of pretending to get friendly, they pretend to have a fight, because he doesn't want to touch one of the ten most beautiful women in the world. That make any sense to you?"

  "Nope." Wes shook his head. He looked at Bobby. "But you understand this, don't you? I am seriously worried about you, Robert Taylor."

  Zoe clung to the edge of the bed, listening to Jake Hi-withe in the darkness, wondering if he'd fallen asleep yet.

  She heard him draw in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, and she knew he was as wide awake as she was.

  She had a plan that she hoped would get her inside of Christopher Vincent's private office. As soon as the restrictions on her were lifted, she would go to him—alone—and request a private meeting. She would tell him she didn't realize the nature of the hard work involved in being a regular CRO wife. She would imply that she was much more suited to other tasks.

  And if Jake knew she was planning to do this, he would have an absolute cow. No, not a cow, a full-grown stego-saurus.

  Not that any of this would get that far. She would never put herself into a situation where she'd actually have to sleep with the CRO leader. She'd never compromise her sense of self that way, despite the fact she'd done everything but told Jake she would.

  She sighed. This afternoon, she'd all but promised Jake she'd back away from him, and keep backing away. And she'd come up with that idea to stage a fight when he'd been out talking to Chris. Fight, and then go into a major pout. It had kept them from touching, kept him even from having to kiss her good-night.

  Kept them from pretending to make love.

  She'd seen the flare of intense relief in Jake's eyes when he'd realized what she had been doing—and why. He wasn't the only one who had been relieved. She wasn't sure how much more close contact she could take.

  "Zoe."

  His voice was so quiet in the darkness, at first she thought she'd imagined it.

  But then Jake touched her. Reaching across the grand canyon in the middle of the bed, he touched her, his fingers light against her arm.

  Zoe's heart nearly stopped.

  "I think we should stop fighting," he said.

  .

  Were his words purely for the microphones, or did he actually intend them to have double meaning?

  "Come here," he whispered. "We'll both sleep much better if you let me hold you."

  She turned to look at him. His face was dimly lit, his eyes colorless in the darkness.

  "Come on," he said, pulling her toward him, meeting her in the middle.

  His arms felt so good around her, tears stung her eyes. He wore no shirt, and his skin was so warm, his chest so solid. She could smell just a hint of his delicious cologne and the mint of his toothpaste.

  She held on to him tightly, knowing she should push him away, knowing she'd virtually promised him she would.

  She could feel his legs against her and—

  Zoe looked at him. He was still wearing his jeans. Denim. The ultimate in protection.

  He smiled that crooked smile she'd come to know so well. "This'll be nice," he breathed. "We both really need to sleep, and..."

  And he'd not only remembered what she'd told him this afternoon on the roof, but he'd also read between the lines. He'd figured out one of the things that she'd wanted so badly was for him to hold her in his arms all night long.

  Zoe kissed him. She couldn't help it.

  He sighed as he met her lips in a kiss that was impossibly sweet. It was filled with desire, but coated in something else, something wonderfully warm, something so much stronger than mere passion.

  "Good night," she whispered.

  His voice was like velvet in the darkness. "Night, babe."

  Zoe closed her eyes and, with her head tucked safely beneath his chin, she fell asleep listening to the steady beating of Jake Robinson's heart.

  Chapter

  Do you ever think about Vietnam?"

  Jake leaned his head against the concrete block wall, lifting his face to catch the weak rays of the afternoon sunshine. "Nope. Never."

  "Are you lying?"

  Zoe was sitting next to him. They were sitting on the deck that overlooked the waterfall again. Killing time.

  They'd spent the morning wandering around the CRO fort, searching for closed-off areas and locked doors that they might've missed. But they'd had to stop, afraid of being too conspicuous.

  They'd then spent about an hour collecting as much information as they could about the CRO work teams—finding out what Zoe would have to do to be assigned to the team that cleaned Christopher Vincent's private rooms, including his office.

  From what Jake could gather, the first thing she had to do was to be a part of the CRO for at least five years.

  That meant they had to find another way in, another way

  to get the information they needed. And that way was going to be through Jake pledging his loyalty to the CRO and Christopher Vincent.

  And that brought them here, to the roof of the factory, where they sat out of range of the cameras, their voices covered by the rush of the water. Killing time until their "honeymoon" officially ended.

  Zoe had her hair pulled into a ponytail, and without any makeup on, she looked about eighteen years old. "You are lying," she said. "Aren't you?"

  Jake opened his eyes and looked at her. "Yep."

  "You probably never talk about Vietnam, right?" She had taken off her boots and socks and sat with her bare feet stretched out in front of her, legs crossed at the ankles. She had small, elegant feet—quite possibly the nicest feet he'd ever seen.

  He went back to looking at the sky. It was much safer.

  "A lot of the guys who were over there don't want to talk about it," he told her. "And people who weren't there, well... It's not something that's easy to explain. But you know what that's like. You probably never talk about the assignments you've been on."

  "Most of my assignments have been top-secret."

  "Mine, too. But I meant the ones that weren't."

  Zoe sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Peter could be pretty flip and, well, sarcastic. He was so jaded and cynical, I just never told him anything that really mattered." She glanced at him. "The bad stuff or the good stuff."

  "I never wanted Daisy to get upset," Jake said. "I did talk to her about some of the really bad voodoo that went down in Nam. We both needed me to talk about that, just to get past it, you know? But it would really upset her when I talked about the reasons I'd kept going back—the reasons I stayed in the Navy. She didn't understand why I needed it. She didn't understand what I got out of it."

  "That sense that you're actually doing something, you're actually taking action, instead of just being a bystander."

  Zoe nodded. "There's so much hand-wringing that goes on in the world while nobody does a damn thing. I joined the Agency because I wanted to do more than compile frightening statistics about chemical and biological weapons. I wanted to track the suckers down and destroy them."

  "And then there's the rush, too," Jake said. "She really didn't understand the adrenaline rush."

  "I'm not sure I understand it myself." Zoe sat up, putting her socks and boots on as the late afternoon got colder. She pulled her legs underneath her to sit tailor style. "It's weird, isn't it? I was once... some where I shouldn't have been, in a country that would not have welcomed me with open arms under any circumstances. I was checking out reports that a pharmaceutical factory was cooking up anthrax. I went into the factory covertly, found what I needed to prove those reports were accurate and came back out— but not quite as covertly, after I nearly knocked over a security guard." She laughed, her eyes shining as she remembered. "It was insane. I was being chased by about twenty soldiers across the rooftops of the city in this amazing thunderstorm. Wind, lig
htning, hail—it should have been terrifying, but it wasn't. It was so exhilarating. So amazing. I can't explain it. I couldn't explain it then, either."

  "You don't have to," Jake said, sitting up, too. "I know exactly what you mean. It's like, you're not just alive, you're beyond alive. It's..."

  "Incredible," she finished for him, laughing. "It seems crazy. You look at a situation and there are all these risks, and you think, I should be running away from this as fast and as far as I can. You think, This time this could kill me."

  "But then you think, But I bet I know how to beat this..."

  "Yeah." She smiled. "I know how to win."

  "So you do," Jake said. "You win, against all the odds, and it's so damn great."

  "It's beyond great," she said.

  She was sitting there, completely lit up, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him.

  Jake knew he was grinning at her, but he couldn't stop. "You must've been one of those kids who tried to parachute off the roof with a bedsheet."

  "I had four brothers," she told him. "I had to learn to fight just so they'd let me tag along. And I had to prove— almost daily—that I was tough enough and daring enough to get inside the hallowed walls of their clubhouse. So, yeah, I did my share of roof walking. It drove my father nuts." She laughed. "I think I still drive my father nuts."

  Her father had been in Nam. He was one of Jake's peers. A man whose life he'd helped save. A man who would definitely disapprove of the kind of thoughts Jake had been regularly having about his daughter.

  Jake had woken up this morning with Zoe in his arms, and for about four very long seconds, his brain had played one hell of a trick on him. The extremely erotic dream he'd had about making love to her just moments before was still shockingly vivid in his mind, and he'd temporarily confused fantasy with reality, confused that dream with real memories. For a few endless seconds, he'd believed he truly had kissed her last night, her body arching eagerly up to meet his as he'd driven himself deeply inside of her.