Blown Away

The hand over her mouth loosened. “Are you going to scream?”

TJ shook her head. She couldn’t scream if all the air had left her lungs. Hell, she couldn’t breathe.

He dropped his hand and slowly turned her to face him. “Why were you chasing me?”

All the blood drained from TJ’s face and the man’s image swam in her vision like an apparition floating through a cloud. When her knees buckled, she staggered backward until her back hit the wall. “Sean?”

Chapter Four

Sean gripped TJ’s arms to keep her from falling. Her face blanched and her eyes widened. Her knees shook as if she was about to drop to the floor in a dead faint, or so he told himself as he pulled her against his chest.

The scent of spring flowers wafted beneath his nose, sending him back to Dindi and the hotel suite he’d shared with this beautiful woman. For a long moment he allowed the good memories to wash over him. He wanted to continue holding her close until he recaptured that feeling of belonging he’d only experienced with her in that faraway room. But the good feelings were chased away by bad memories. The blinding flash of the explosion and the resulting blackness filled his mind.

Marty was dead. Sean had only sustained minor injuries—cuts, scrapes, ruptured eardrums and a mild concussion. He’d survived. Marty hadn’t.

With cold determination, he set TJ at arm’s length and stepped away. Somehow, he had to get through this mission without letting this woman distract him again. Detecting movement to his left, he painted a confused but friendly expression on his face. “Why were you following me? Do I know you?” He bent to retrieve her shoes and handed them to her.

As she slipped them on, her skin went from white to red in a manner of seconds. “Do I—”

The night-duty Capitol Police guard chose that moment to walk by. “Good evening, Ms. Barton.” The guard gave Sean a wary look. “Everything okay here?”

TJ pushed a hand through her shoulder-length hair and gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, hi, Joe. Yes, yes, of course.” When the guard turned away from her, TJ glared at Sean.

“If you’re sure…” Joe didn’t act as if he wanted to leave.

“No, really, Joe,” TJ said. “We were just discussing work, weren’t we?”

Sean nodded, gauging TJ’s words and anticipating her next with some trepidation. “Yes, sir.”

“You new around here?” Joe asked.

“Started today in Congresswoman Malone’s office.” Sean stuck out his hand. “John Newman.”

A soft snort sounded beside him.

As the guard took his extended hand, Sean could feel the heat of TJ’s glare burning into his back. She could blow his cover if she wanted and she was mad enough to do it. He hoped she wouldn’t.

“John Newman,” the guard repeated. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced again at TJ. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll be on my way. Still have my rounds to complete.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Her brows rose. “And so is Se—John. He’s perfectly fine.” Her lips thinned for a moment before she graced the guard with a dazzling, albeit fake, smile. “Thanks for your concern. It’s nice to know some people still care.”

Joe walked away, glancing back once before he rounded the corner.

TJ clamped her mouth shut and crossed her arms over her chest, watching Sean until the guard’s footsteps receded.

Sean didn’t like pretending with TJ, but he had to maintain his cover. He’d practiced the lies he’d tell her half a dozen times, knowing it was only a matter of time before she discovered he was there.

After the policeman moved on, TJ grabbed Sean’s arm and ushered him, none too gently, down the long hallway back to her empty office.

Sean assumed a casual, natural look in case someone was watching. Surely legislative assistants dragged the new guys down the halls at some point during the day. He didn’t want to cause a scene or draw attention. His job was to blend in.

When she shoved him into her office and slammed the door behind him, her cheeks blazed with twin flags of color. She paced across the room and turned to face him. “I want answers and I want them now.”

He took a deep breath, wondering how much to tell her. “I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge you in the hallway. I didn’t want to draw a lot of attention.”

“From whom? The place is practically deserted.” She raised her eyebrows, her toe tapping on the floor. “Who are you really? Sean McNeal or John Newman?”

The story he’d concocted froze on his lips. He’d never had trouble lying to maintain his cover, until he’d met TJ. He swallowed hard and forced the lie out. “John Newman.”

“And who is Sean McNeal? Just a name you made up to get me in bed in Dindi?”

He hated doing it, but he’d rather look the bastard than blow his cover and place himself, and possibly her, in danger. “That’s right. I didn’t want any complications after I left Dindi.”

“Complications.” For a moment her face paled again, then darkened into a ruddy red. A muscle ticked in her jaw for several long seconds. Then she shook her head. “I’m not buying it. Tell me what you’re really up to or I’ll call Joe back here and have you arrested.”

Not sure whether or not she was bluffing, Sean’s eyes narrowed. “On what charges?”

“Spying.” Her own eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips. “For all I know, you could have been the one to bomb the embassy.”

Sean had known she wouldn’t take his reappearance well, but this encounter wasn’t going the way he’d rehearsed. If he didn’t level with her, she could blow his cover. Question was: could he trust her? He stared long and hard at her. Hell, he’d have to. “TJ, I’m working undercover.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Are you with the CIA or something?”

“Something like that. I can’t tell you everything, but I need everyone to think I’m just staff assistant John Newman.”

“Are you working the Dindi case?”

“Yeah.” He closed the distance between them and lifted her hands in his. “Look, I know this is hard to understand—”

“You have no idea.” She jerked her hands free and crossed her arms over her chest. “One minute I’m making love to a man I thought I knew. The next, I’m told he died in an explosion.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Why should I believe you, now? How do I know you didn’t orchestrate that explosion? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t turn you into the police or FBI?”

Sean’s arms crossed over his chest. “If that’s what you think you need to do, go ahead.”

Her wide eyes narrowed, but she didn’t move for the phone. “Damn you! I don’t know what to believe.”

“I can’t tell you any more than I’m undercover and need you to keep quiet.”

When he reached out again, she backed away. “Don’t touch me.”

What did he expect? He’d left her alone in a foreign country thinking he was dead. After being away from her for a month, did he think she’d be happy to see him?

The spark in her eyes faded and the starch went out of her stance. “Tell me this. Were you working a case in Dindi?”

“Yes.” His response revealed none of the emotion he felt, none of the regret, none of the memories. He couldn’t afford to let them show.

Her eyes swam with tears and she whispered, “Was that all it was to you?”

Here’s the part where he could say she meant more to him than just the case. The part where he could say he’d fallen for her and had begun to think of a more permanent relationship. The tears welling in her eyes almost had him spilling his feelings like a rookie.

Remember Marty. The silence stretched one, two, three seconds before he responded. “Yes, I was working a case.” Better let her think he was a bastard. It made things easier.

She sucked in a breath and held it before she let it out slowly. “Thank you. At least I know exactly where we stand.”

Where did they stand? Sean had a good idea, and it didn’t involve happily-ever-after.

“You say you weren’t responsible for the bombing in Dindi.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, then her hand dropped to her side, her gaze leveling on him. “Why should I trust you? You’ve lied to me from the start, even faked your own death. You still haven’t given me a good reason not to turn you in.”

Sean welcomed her anger, the color rising in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes. He could handle it better than her tears. “I’m here to find out who’s behind the bombing in Dindi.”

“Here? Why didn’t you find the terrorist in Dindi?”

“I found one of them and what I found there led me back here.”

TJ sucked in a breath. “Here? In the Rayburn Building?” Her head moved from side to side.

“That’s what it looks like.” He stepped forward and reached for her hands, catching himself before he actually touched her. His hands fell to his sides. “We need to find all those responsible.”

“I lost my boss and a couple of friends in that bombing.” She looked as if she was going to add to that, but she clamped her lips shut and wrapped her arms around her midsection.

“I lost a good friend.” Sean shoved a hand through his hair and stared at her. “That’s why I’m here.”

Her brow knitted in a frown. “You think someone in the Rayburn Building was responsible? A member or staffer?”

“Maybe. That’s what I hope to find out.”

“That would explain why the CIA were crawling all over Crane’s office earlier today.”

Sean nodded.

TJ’s eyes narrowed again. “And in the meantime, I don’t suppose you plan to keep me in the picture? No updates on your progress?”

He shook his head. “Knowing too much and snooping around could be dangerous.”

“Bull. Like Dindi wasn’t dangerous?”

“No kidding, TJ. Whoever funded that could be here and, who knows, might plan another incident.”

“And you want me to just stand by and watch it happen?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

He stared down into her eyes. “TJ, I need you to stay out of it. Don’t ask questions.” He didn’t have time to monitor her efforts. He had to remain focused on the goal.

“How do you plan on finding this person? You don’t even know anyone here.”

“For starters, I need you to play dumb about knowing me.”

“I don’t have to play dumb. I never knew you.”

That hurt, but Sean pushed on. “Do I have your promise to keep my identity to yourself?”

She hesitated. “I don’t feel right about it. You could be the bad guy.”

“Do you really think that?” He reached out and captured her hands, drawing her closer. “Do you really think I could bomb an embassy?” Staring down into her face, he could have fallen into those liquid brown eyes and forgotten what he was all about. But he needed her promise.

She didn’t meet his eyes, her gaze falling short to somewhere around his mouth. Her tongue darted out and slid across her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“Trust me, TJ,” he whispered, his mouth drawn to hers. When his lips claimed hers, he forgot his original question, forgot why he was here. All thought focused on kissing TJ Barton as though yesterday and tomorrow didn’t exist.

Pulling back cost him, but eventually he did. “Do I have your promise?”

Brown eyes gazed up at him, glazed and unfocused. Then she stepped out of his arms and ran her hands over her skirt; bright spots of red highlighted her cheekbones. “I’ll keep your secret for now. But, if I find you doing anything funny, I’ll sic every cop in the Capitol complex on your butt.”

“Define funny.”

“Wiring the place for bombs, holding anyone hostage, you know, the usual terrorist activities.”

He held up his hand. “I promise, no funny stuff.”

“And one other thing…”

This one was going to be big if her pause was any indication. Sean breathed in, then out. “Okay, shoot.”

“Promise me you won’t kiss me again.”

AFTER SEAN LEFT, TJ collapsed in the chair behind her desk and stared at the closed door.

What the hell? Her head spun and her gut ached as if she’d been sucker punched. Sucker was the word for it. She’d spent the last four weeks mourning the death of a man who never died. Had she really fallen in love with a man she’d known only two weeks? A man she hadn’t known at all?

If only she’d known he hadn’t died.

While she’d tossed, turned and barely slept from the nightmares, the louse had been alive. She smacked her palm on the desktop.

“Should I come back later?” Gordon Harris stood in the doorway, his brows high on his forehead.

TJ had been so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the door open. “No, no, come in.” She waved him in. She’d be damned if Sean McNeal got another minute of her thoughts. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I should ask you the same question.” He dug in his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “I forgot to leave the Budget Committee report and Representative Crane’s changes to the speech for the Daughters of the American Revolution. Had to cut my dinner short when Malone called to remind me.” He hesitated. “But if you’d rather wait, I could come back tomorrow when you don’t look like you’re going to bite my head off.”

“I won’t bite your head off. Let me see those.” She held out her hand, her fingers wiggling impatiently.

“Okay, okay. Give me a second to get organized.” As Gordon riffled through the stack of papers, Sean walked by the door behind him.

The way her pulse quickened brought back memories of the first time she’d met Sean when she’d been scouting Conbanau prior to Congressman Haddock’s visit.

Oh, how gullible she’d been. Was that what she was now?

So much for not giving the man another moment of her thoughts. He was in the same building. She couldn’t ignore him. Hell, she felt compelled to keep an eye on him to make sure she wasn’t harboring a criminal.

Gordon followed her gaze, turning to see what she was staring at.

He laid the papers in her in-box and straightened. “What’s up with you?”

Her brain wasn’t engaged in Gordon’s words and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Huh?”

“I said, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” A ghost just came to life and I’m supposed to pretend he didn’t. Other than that, nothing. What bothered her more was that kiss. If only he hadn’t kissed her. Her lips still tingled from the contact. That spark was still there, damn it! He was a liar and a fake. She shouldn’t have any other feelings than contempt for the man calling himself John Newman. Anger boiled within. Not so much at Sean, but at herself for falling right back into his charade.

“Are you still hurting over the guy that died in the bombing? Let me take you to dinner and we can talk about it.”

The blond-haired, blue-eyed, boy-next-door good looks appealed to every other intern or single staffer on the floor. But not TJ. Unfortunately, she leaned toward black hair and green eyes. And she didn’t have time to lean. A killer possibly lurked in the halls of the Rayburn Building. Scarier still, the killer could be Sean McNeal, aka John Newman. She should be searching for clues. “You know how I feel about dating coworkers, Gordon.” In the meantime, she had to pretend to live her life as an ordinary legislative assistant. She laid a hand over his and softened her expression. “The offer is tempting, but…no.”

Gordon’s brows drew together and he covered her hand. “You can’t give up on all men just because of one, TJ.”

“Who said I was giving up?” Slipping her hands free, she pushed her chair away from her desk and stood, moving to the far corner of the room, out of reach. “Gordon, did you ever think the Dindi bombing might have been someone other than a terrorist?”

He leaned against her desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you ask?”

Sean’s words had been worrying her. That, on top of the information her CIA connections had unearthed. Could that American be in this building? “Just for the sake of conjecture, what if someone wanted it to look like a terrorist job? Who would want Congressman Haddock dead and why?”

Gordon blew out a stream of air. “Wow, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Surely, Haddock had enemies,” she pressed.

Gordon shrugged. “Every representative has their share of dissatisfied constituents and competitors.”

“Why would someone want Haddock dead though?”

“Could be a number of reasons.”

TJ leaned against the wall. “Name some.”

“His pro-choice views on abortion for one. There’s always someone willing to bomb an abortion clinic. I guess they could target a congressman against the pro-life movement.”

“Maybe. But why bomb an embassy in a foreign country when they blow up abortion clinics in the States? What else?”

“If it were an election year, I’d say a worried opponent facing a loss at the polls. But the election’s not for another thirteen months.”

“No, election year isn’t right.” TJ paced the length of the office and back. “What about the committees he’s on? Is there anyone vehemently opposed to his decisions?”

“No more than usual.” Gordon rubbed his chin and stared at the ceiling in the far corner of the office. “He was in Africa working on securing the Millennium Challenge funding for the Dindi government. Maybe someone didn’t want him to get that funding.” His gaze moved to hers. “You think someone around here had it in for Haddock? If it was the MC funding, they could go after Malone. She’s backing Dindi like Haddock did.”

“No, I’m sure it’s nothing. No use getting Malone all worried.” TJ didn’t want to alarm Gordon or anyone else in the building because she’d had a wild thought and a small piece of unsubstantiated evidence. “I keep thinking about when that building exploded. It’s still all a blur to me. I was outside the building when the bomb went off. What if I saw something that could help identify the killer?”

Gordon’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Did you see something?”

“Not that I can remember. That’s just it. From the moment I stepped on the embassy grounds to the time I woke in the hospital is all a big black hole.”

“Have you thought about a hypnotist?” Gordon’s eyes narrowed and he stared hard at her. “You should try that.”

She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing. Besides, it’s been a month.”

“Then why’d you bring it up?”

“I keep having dreams about it. The whole thing replays in my head and I feel like I’m missing something.” At least Gordon had given her some ideas to pursue. TJ stood. “I left some documents with one of Crane’s legislative assistants. I need to collect them before I head home.”

“What about the report and the speech?”

“Leave them here on my desk. I’m not done for the night. Thanks for listening.” TJ stepped into the hallway and almost ran into Congresswoman Malone and Congressman Crane.

The congresswoman was dressed in a simple black cocktail dress. Crane wore the same suit he’d had on earlier that day.

“Oh there you are, Gordon. Glad you could come back in on such short notice.” Malone nodded briefly at TJ. “Are you headed home, Ms. Barton?”

“In a little while. It’s been a long night.” TJ smiled at Congressman Crane. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No, thank you. I’m just collecting a report from my office before I head home myself.”

“Then you two have a good evening.” Malone moved down the hallway dictating a list of tasks for Gordon to accomplish.

Did the woman never know when to quit? She often worked Gordon late into the evenings. Haddock had had his occasional late night, but not as often as Malone.

Crane’s gaze followed Malone and Gordon. “Couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Harris. You still thinking about the bombing?”

TJ nodded and fell in step with the congressman, entering his suite of offices. “The dreams haven’t gone away. I keep thinking I could have seen someone and I can’t make the memory surface.”

“You could be suffering post-traumatic stress syndrome. Have you considered seeing a psychiatrist?”

“Not yet.” Between Crane and Gordon, they’d have her going to every shrink in D.C. for her “problem.”

“Don’t wait until you can’t think straight.” He unlocked his office door. “Have a good evening.”

“Good night, sir.” TJ collected her documents and walked away shaking her head. Crane giving her advice wasn’t something she’d expected out of this evening.

Thirty minutes later, she climbed into her compact car and drove out of the parking garage. On the short drive to her apartment, she had all the quiet she could stand with thoughts of Sean resurfacing at every corner.

Who would have wanted Congressman Haddock dead and why? If they wanted to stop the Millennium Challenge funding, the bombing hadn’t accomplished that. Congresswoman Ann Malone had taken up the fight to get that money approved. Sean hadn’t said anything about other attempts, but could Malone be next?

As TJ slowed to round a corner leading to her street, she noticed another set of headlights behind her on the deserted street. Hadn’t she seen those same headlights for the past two turns she’d made on her way home?

She drove past her apartment complex and turned down another road, just to be sure.

Two blocks sped by and the headlights appeared in her rearview mirror.

TJ’s stomach clenched. Someone was following her. Could it be Sean? Did she want to stop and ask? Hell no.

Pressing her foot to the accelerator, she raced to the next street and turned left without slowing or signaling. Once around the corner, she searched for a side street and darted down one with cars parked along the side. Cutting her headlights, she downshifted to slow her car without using the breaks, sliding into a spot behind another car against the curb. Before the headlights appeared, she’d killed the engine.

She ducked low in her seat and waited. Less than a minute went by and the headlights moved slowly along the other street, passing the one she’d turned on.

Even after the car passed, TJ remained where she was, her heart pounding in her ears. How long should she wait? Was she being paranoid?

Headlights appeared at the end of the street in front of her and TJ’s heart skipped a beat. Crud. Maybe she wasn’t just paranoid. Maybe someone was following her.

TJ sank lower in her seat as the car drifted by. Unable to see over the top of the dash or the side of the door, she held her breath as the sound of an automobile engine passed. It did pass, and shortly after, TJ eased her head up. The car was gone and the street was empty of any oncoming traffic.

Turning the key in the ignition, TJ almost had a heart attack when the little car wouldn’t start. On a second twist of the key, the engine sprang to life. The rest of her trip to her apartment remained blessedly uneventful.

Outside her apartment door, her hands shook as she jammed the key into the lock. She’d glanced over her shoulder at least ten times before her apartment door opened, expecting the eerie headlights to reappear on the street or a bogeyman to jump out of the bushes at any minute.

Once inside, she slammed her door shut and slid the bolt home. That wasn’t enough. A quick trip through the two bedrooms, kitchen and living space finally set her mind at ease. No one had come into her apartment while she’d been at work. A quick glance out the darkened windows confirmed no one lurked in the street.

A shaky laugh escaped her and she collapsed onto the couch, dropping her head into her hands. Sean’s reappearance had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

She forced a laugh, then almost choked on it when headlights shone through the filmy curtains of her living-room window. A car cruised by on her street like a snake sliding through the grass in search of its next meal.

Chapter Five

“Learning anything?” Royce stopped by Sean’s desk shortly after midnight.

“Don’t you ever go home?” Sean asked.

“Since home is upstairs, I’m always at home.”

“Let me rephrase. Don’t you ever leave the office?”