Read Online AWOL with the Operative by Jean Thomas - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Thomas
Tags: Suspense
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couldn’t.
But Sam had been right. Like wolves able to scent the direction of their prey, the enemy did come. Eve went rigid in her temporary grave when she heard the soft thud of approaching feet. And then suddenly they were there. Close, not more than a few yards away. But, mercifully, not close enough to take notice of the mound in the hollow.
There were two of them. She could tell that from their hurried exchange. Although she couldn’t make out what they were saying, she was able to distinguish the quality of their voices. One had what sounded like a European accent. What country in Europe she couldn’t say. The other had a deep nasal tone, as if he had a cold.
And then there was nothing. The footsteps moved off. Toward the south, she thought. The direction in which Sam had gone. She was alone again and safe. But not free of concern. She kept waiting to hear the bark of a rifle off in the distance. A chilling sound that would mean they had sighted Sam, that they possibly were able to bring him down.
But the rifle was silent. The worst of her strain gradually diminished. She grew restless, wanting to burst free of her confinement. She didn’t. Much as she hated waiting, not knowing what was happening, she went on obeying Sam’s direction to stay where she was.
Time passed, an eternity of it. It had to be full night by now. She brushed away enough of the needles to clear her view, expecting to see nothing but darkness. To her surprise, a silver light filtered down through the pines. The strong light of what must be a full moon.
The moonlight, together with the aroma of the pines, was soothing. She was able to relax her tense muscles. But not her mind. With nothing to do but think, her mind was busy. Random thoughts that went first in one direction, and then another. But always Sam McDonough was the subject of those emotional searches.
Only now, when she was without him, did Eve realize just how much she had come to depend on him.
What’s happened to that willful independence of yours?
All right, so these were extraordinary circumstances. She had a right to depend on Sam. He was an FBI agent, wasn’t he? Assigned to safeguard her until he delivered her to his squad supervisor in Chicago? And maybe, when all was said and done, they had come to count on each other.
You don’t believe that, do you? It’s more than that—much more.
Remembering last night in the root cellar, it was a truth she had to acknowledge. Even back at the plane wreckage she had felt it—this special attachment to Sam, this attraction for a sexy, forceful man that was more than just lust. That had her yearning for him on some deeply emotional level.
Did Sam feel it, too? She hoped he did. She had sensed he might when his arms had enveloped her in the root cellar.
There are the demons that haunt him, Eve.
Nonsense. Just because she had observed a fleeting bleakness in his eyes when they’d first met, had been conscious of a stress in his taut expression, didn’t mean that beneath his current state of amnesia he suffered some secret torment. What kind of evidence was that?
A hollow one, that’s what.
You know you’re falling for him. You’d better watch it. It’s not safe.
Yes, that was true, too. She did need to be careful. It would be so easy to involve herself both physically and emotionally with this Sam McDonough. But what would happen when the other Sam McDonough returned, the hard-edged one whose eyes didn’t spark with humor? That Sam McDonough could seriously hurt her.
Oh, Sam, Sam, where are you when I need you?
How could he possibly—FBI training or not—find his way back to her at night, even with the moonlight to guide him?
Along with all this wild seesawing of worried thoughts and mixed feelings was her memory of Charlie and, whatever his connection with a crime boss, how kind and generous he had been to her. How she continued to mourn him. And probably always would.
Eve didn’t know how long
But Sam had been right. Like wolves able to scent the direction of their prey, the enemy did come. Eve went rigid in her temporary grave when she heard the soft thud of approaching feet. And then suddenly they were there. Close, not more than a few yards away. But, mercifully, not close enough to take notice of the mound in the hollow.
There were two of them. She could tell that from their hurried exchange. Although she couldn’t make out what they were saying, she was able to distinguish the quality of their voices. One had what sounded like a European accent. What country in Europe she couldn’t say. The other had a deep nasal tone, as if he had a cold.
And then there was nothing. The footsteps moved off. Toward the south, she thought. The direction in which Sam had gone. She was alone again and safe. But not free of concern. She kept waiting to hear the bark of a rifle off in the distance. A chilling sound that would mean they had sighted Sam, that they possibly were able to bring him down.
But the rifle was silent. The worst of her strain gradually diminished. She grew restless, wanting to burst free of her confinement. She didn’t. Much as she hated waiting, not knowing what was happening, she went on obeying Sam’s direction to stay where she was.
Time passed, an eternity of it. It had to be full night by now. She brushed away enough of the needles to clear her view, expecting to see nothing but darkness. To her surprise, a silver light filtered down through the pines. The strong light of what must be a full moon.
The moonlight, together with the aroma of the pines, was soothing. She was able to relax her tense muscles. But not her mind. With nothing to do but think, her mind was busy. Random thoughts that went first in one direction, and then another. But always Sam McDonough was the subject of those emotional searches.
Only now, when she was without him, did Eve realize just how much she had come to depend on him.
What’s happened to that willful independence of yours?
All right, so these were extraordinary circumstances. She had a right to depend on Sam. He was an FBI agent, wasn’t he? Assigned to safeguard her until he delivered her to his squad supervisor in Chicago? And maybe, when all was said and done, they had come to count on each other.
You don’t believe that, do you? It’s more than that—much more.
Remembering last night in the root cellar, it was a truth she had to acknowledge. Even back at the plane wreckage she had felt it—this special attachment to Sam, this attraction for a sexy, forceful man that was more than just lust. That had her yearning for him on some deeply emotional level.
Did Sam feel it, too? She hoped he did. She had sensed he might when his arms had enveloped her in the root cellar.
There are the demons that haunt him, Eve.
Nonsense. Just because she had observed a fleeting bleakness in his eyes when they’d first met, had been conscious of a stress in his taut expression, didn’t mean that beneath his current state of amnesia he suffered some secret torment. What kind of evidence was that?
A hollow one, that’s what.
You know you’re falling for him. You’d better watch it. It’s not safe.
Yes, that was true, too. She did need to be careful. It would be so easy to involve herself both physically and emotionally with this Sam McDonough. But what would happen when the other Sam McDonough returned, the hard-edged one whose eyes didn’t spark with humor? That Sam McDonough could seriously hurt her.
Oh, Sam, Sam, where are you when I need you?
How could he possibly—FBI training or not—find his way back to her at night, even with the moonlight to guide him?
Along with all this wild seesawing of worried thoughts and mixed feelings was her memory of Charlie and, whatever his connection with a crime boss, how kind and generous he had been to her. How she continued to mourn him. And probably always would.
Eve didn’t know how long
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