Read Online Morgan's Rescue by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online

Face it, he told himself, you took one look and it was all over.   He'd fallen as surely as if someone had struck him with a sledgehammer. In truth, Culver knew little about Pilar. They'd had the CIA mission to complete, and their days had been spent on guard, with only occasional nights of torrid embraces whenever they could feel safe enough. They hadn't made love all that many times due to the danger that had always surrounded them. And Culver vividly remembered each of those melting experiences. Any other woman's kisses paled in comparison to the rich depth of those he'd shared with Pilar. He'd shared his soul with her. She'd sold his soul to the devil.
          Tears flooded into Pilar's tightly shut eyes as she kept her face carefully positioned so that Culver wouldn't suspect the depth of her heartbreak. Even now, despite what she'd done to Culver, he seemed protective of her. He'd stepped in front of her and taken a bullet meant for her eight years ago—and had nearly died in the process. She'd left him in the hospital. Alone. Her lips parted, the lower one trembling as tears wet her lashes before she forced them back once more. How long she could hold their destroyed dreams and shattered hopes at bay, Pilar did not know.
          Finally, their approach to Lima claimed Culver's attention. Driving in the frantic traffic of Peru 's capital always felt like dodging stampeding bulls. The Hotel of the Andes was one of the finest in Lima , and as they drove up to the elegant entranceway, a porter in a light gray uniform met them, opening Pilar's door with a flourish. The young man smiled and welcomed her. Nodding, Pilar climbed quickly up the white marble steps, with many tourists, mostly North Americans, bustling around her.
          Gripping her shoulder bag, she reminded herself to stay on guard. They were government agents and therefore potential targets. She gazed out at the thick traffic clogging one of Lima 's main arteries, the avenue in front of the hotel. It was seven o'clock; siesta was over. Those who had rested through the afternoon's heat were back at work. Sometime between ten and midnight, everyone would eat dinner. Pilar wasn't hungry in the physical sense, but as she looked at Culver, she felt like a sponge, dried out by lack of emotional sustenance. Somehow, simply gazing at Culver's imposing, implacable figure fed her renewed life.
          How long had she felt depressed? Pilar was stunned to realize she'd been living beneath a dark cloud ever since she'd left Culver. She'd thought she'd recouped, moved on. Certainly Rane had provided a bright patch in what she now could see as an otherwise dreary world. As Culver walked toward her, she could see him looking around, all his senses on alert, as hers were. He had the look of a condor, with his regal power and watchfulness.
          Culver fluidly moved up the steps toward Pilar. Without thinking, he started to reach for her arm, to lead her into the hotel. At the instant panic in her eyes, he dropped his hand.
          "Come on," he muttered, stepping through the door.
          The lobby was spacious and sumptuous, with sparkling crystal chandeliers highlighting the thick gold carpeting and white marble surrounding the registration area, where three clerks, dressed impeccably in the gray uniforms, waited. Pilar stood quietly at Culver's side as he checked himself in under the assumed name printed on his passport: John Kensington. Pilar smiled to herself at the inappropriate plainness of the name for someone with such an imposing presence.
          Once registered, Culver shook his head at the porter and lifted his suitcase in his left hand. He looked at Pilar. "Come on," he said.
          Pilar walked at his shoulder to the elevator, feeling a different type of tension around Culver as the doors slid open and they stepped aboard. He pushed the button for the fifth floor and they began to ascend.
          "I don't like this