Sudden Alliance

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He winced in pain as he moved beneath her, then shot her a crooked smile. “Really, I’m okay.”

She stared at him warily. He was rubbing his shoulder. Black particles of soot clung to his skin, but he looked…incredibly wonderful. Her body sagged with relief, but she couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her.

“We’re both lucky,” he said as he picked an evergreen needle from her hair. “We were far enough away from the explosion to keep from being burned, and the hedge broke our fall.” He stood to help her to her feet, glancing over at the fire, which was burning out of control.

Several cleaning women in white uniforms hurried outside, screaming and shouting excitedly. Guests burst from their rooms, their yells adding to the din. A man, dressed only in striped pajama bottoms dashed barefoot from the door of his motel unit into the street.

“What could have happened?” Sara asked, unable to take her eyes from the blazing inferno.

“We’ll know for sure once the police arrive and the bomb squad gives their report, but I think your car was wired.”

She swung around to face him. “Wired? You mean someone wanted to blow up my car?” Her face froze as the possibility struck her.

Someone wanted to kill her. If she had turned on the ignition when she was sitting in the car, she’d be dead now.

Panic shot through her like a bolt of lightning. “I’ve got to get away,” she cried, pulling out of Liam’s grasp. She staggered a few steps before his large hands grabbed her shoulders.

Liam was reminded of when he’d first found her, lost and afraid and trying to run away from some unseen terror. He held her, wanting desperately to find a way to calm her. Finally she stopped struggling and looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror.

“If someone is trying to kill me, I’m endangering you, too. You could have been killed.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Come on, let’s go to my car. It’s lucky I parked by the front door.” As they made their way around the motel he smiled to himself. When was the last time a woman had cared about his safety? That is, a woman with whom he didn’t share the same gene pool? He was surprised to find he liked the feeling.

As they neared the corner of the building, the desk clerk burst into view, nearly running into them. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the smoking inferno in the rear parking lot. His jaw dropped, then he turned to Liam and Sara. “My God, look at you! What the hell happened?”

Ignoring his question, Liam asked instead, “What did that man with the camera look like?”

The desk clerk shaded his eyes with a hand as he gazed at Liam. “He was almost as tall as you. Black, shiny hair, like Elvis Presley’s.” The clerk made a disapproving face. “Heavy in the shoulders and arms, like a wrestler. And he had a diamond ring the size of a doorknob.”

Liam frowned. “Did he speak with the local accent?”

“No, more New Jersey or the Bronx. My sister’s husband is from the Bronx and he talks like this guy did.”

Now we’re getting somewhere, Liam thought. “Anything else?”

“He had long arms. He lumbered when he walked, like he was skating almost.” The clerk scratched his head. “I saw his car. Yeah, a classy set of wheels.”

Liam looked up. “Did you get the license number?”

“Er, no. I was too busy looking at the Caddy. Black. Tinted glass. And the fanciest set of gold hubcaps I ever saw.”

“Did he mention where I’d lost my camera?” Sara asked, her expression so trusting that Liam felt like a jerk for doubting her earlier.

The desk clerk thought for a moment. “He said you’d left the camera along the shore. You’d been photographing birds.” The clerk scratched his head again. “Funny, now that I think of it, it was foggy when you left. Not a good morning for taking pictures.”

She cocked her head. “Did you see me leave?” Her voice rose with excitement.

He shook his head. “I didn’t see you leave. I was on duty when you checked in, don’t you remember?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You came back after seeing your room and asked if you had any messages. When I said no, you paced back and forth in front of the entrance, like you were expecting someone. You seemed to be in an awful hurry.”

The howl of a police car sounded in the distance.

Liam put his arm around Sara’s shoulder. “Come on, honey. Let’s go wait for the police.”

THE LOBSTER TRAP DINER was the best restaurant on Bellwood Island. It was also the only restaurant open this time of year.

“Two coffees,” Liam called out to the fry cook as he followed Sara toward the back of the room. The place was deserted except for a middle-aged, gray-haired couple who were engrossed in reading the Sunday edition of the Boston Globe, which lay sprawled across the table of their booth.

Sara chose the rear booth, beside a window overlooking the ocean. He watched her gaze flick over the plastic-covered menu. Her skin looked translucent in the morning light reflected off the water. She held herself with a rigid stillness that he’d come to recognize. Considering what she’d just been through, she was holding up better than he expected.

After they had filed their statements with the police, she had cleaned up in the ladies’ room, changing into the turtleneck shirt and slacks that she’d brought from the motel. Now, sitting across from him, scanning the menu, Sara gave no hint that less than an hour ago she’d escaped death from a car bombing. But he knew that beneath that quiet surface she was as brittle as glass.

Maybe she’s not as brittle as you think, O’Shea. Covert operators trained by military insurgent groups can be cold-blooded killers and appear as innocent as lambs. If Sara was what he thought she might be, she could know as much about and be as experienced with explosives as he was.

Yeah, well, maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she was just what she seemed—an innocent victim who needed him.

Innocent? Maybe the car bomb had been staged to make her appear a victim. She might have clicked the ignition starter in plenty of time without his prompting. After all, the pieces had already been put into place: the desk clerk, the story about a man finding her camera, the phone call to the funeral home. What if the car explosion was only a ploy to gain Liam’s trust?

Damn, he’d gotten so tangled up in Sara’s bedroom eyes and long legs that he didn’t know what to believe. He wanted to reach out and rub his thumb across the skin at the corners of her eyes, smoothing it. Instead, he balled his hands in his lap.

Brenda, the pretty, brown-haired waitress, interrupted his thoughts as she approached with two steaming mugs of black coffee. She gave Sara an assessing glance, then turned a beaming smile on Liam. “Been a long time since we’ve seen you, sweetheart,” she said, placing the mugs on the tabletop between them. “Will you be staying in town for a while?”

“Hi, Brenda.” Liam gave her a polite smile but didn’t answer her question. He looked at Sara. “You must be hungry. How does the house special sound?”

Sara shrugged. “Fine.”

Liam nodded to Brenda. “Make that two.”

When she left, Liam picked up a spoon and stirred his coffee. “I think we need to talk about what happened,” he said, noting that Sara’s gaze remained on her mug.

She jerked her head up. “What do you want me to say? One minute I feel calm, yet when I look at my hands, they’re shaking so badly I can’t hold a spoon.”

“Hey, anyone would feel like that considering what you’ve been through.” Get a grip, O’Shea, he told himself harshly. Sara’s innocence and vulnerability were having a critical effect on what passed for his brain. He had to find a way to put his doubts about her to rest.

He ran a finger along the rim of his cup, choosing his next words carefully. If she was a covert operator, he knew of a way to test her. “Well, for starters, I think you need my protection.”

Her brow furrowed. “Protection?”

“I’m offering my professional services. This is what I do for a living.”

“You said you worked for a security firm,” she said, as though not convinced.

“I do. I also freelance.” When she continued to look puzzled, he added, “I take on clients who are in trouble. In your case, I’ll find out who put that bomb in your car and why. TALON-6, the security and surveillance agency I work for, will help cut through the police red tape. You’ll have protection 24/7 while we get to the bottom of this. I’m offering you something I don’t think you should refuse.”

She took a deep breath as though considering. He expected her to act fearful and, with a bit of further encouragement from him, agree with open arms to his offer.

Instead, she studied him cautiously, as though he were a bug under a microscope. “What if I can’t afford your rates? I might be unemployed for all I know.”

“My rates are flexible. You can pay what and when you can.” His smile, he hoped, was irresistible enough to get her to say yes.

He watched her consider his offer. Damn those green eyes and that yard of red hair. She was definitely his type, and that meant trouble. His vision of the perfect woman falling into his life, needing a protector. What a setup.

Sara slanted him a glance. “What if I hire you by the day?”

“By the day?” Where in the hell had she come up with that?

“Yes,” she continued. “I was thinking that if we can’t find the man who drives the Cadillac with the gold hubcaps, maybe the man whose name is on my ID card, Gregory Urquhart, can help us. I think we should call him.”

Liam had no idea what to make of her. “Okay, and then what?”

“Let’s take this one day at a time.”

Damn, just when he thought he was beginning to figure her out, she threw him another curve. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a protector. For one day.”

She smiled as though satisfied, then the smile faded. “One more thing.” Her cheeks grew pink and she lowered her lashes. “Our relationship must remain professional.” She shifted position and fiddled with her napkin. Finally her lashes rose and that green gaze shot straight through him. “Just because I’ve hired you doesn’t mean that I’m going to…sleep with you.”

Bull’s-eye. Arrow straight through his male ego. “What gave you the idea that I wanted to—” Then it hit him. The kiss. Of course. “I’m sorry if I acted inappropriately,” he said, not meaning a word of it. “But as I remember, you kissed me, too.”

Her full lips twitched as she studied him. “Well, now that our curiosity about each other has been satisfied, we should have no more problems sticking to business.”

So she was only satisfying her curiosity, was she?

He refused to acknowledge the sting of disappointment he felt. Well, he’d never begged a woman before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.

Liam forced a smile. “No problem whatsoever.”

She leaned back, her mouth curved into a tight smile of her own. “Then I accept your offer. But I feel guilty for taking you away from your family.” She sat up suddenly. “What time is your niece’s christening?”

“Not until one o’clock. Don’t worry. I have plenty of time. Maybe you’ll be able to lie down and rest while my family is in church.”

“What about you?” Sara’s voice softened with concern. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“I’m really sorry,” Sara said, her voice soft as her gaze fell to his ripped jacket, the scratches on his hands and wrists. “You keep rubbing your shoulder. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Before he could answer, Brenda returned, carrying two plates filled with bacon, eggs, toast and fried potatoes. The appetizing aroma made his mouth water. After she left, he watched Sara stare at the mound of food in front of her.

“Is everything a blank, or can you remember if you like bacon and eggs?” Liam asked.

She smiled faintly. “A blank, I’m afraid. But this food looks delicious.”

At this moment he believed her. If she was acting, then heaven help him, he was a goner.

“Should we call Gregory Urquhart?” she asked in between bites. Liam noticed that she had placed beside her plate the photo of the smiling man Liam had found inside the lining of her bag.

He pulled out his cell phone and set it in front of her. “No better time than the present.”

She glanced at the phone, then back at him. “I’d rather you spoke to him. Do you mind?”

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “Maybe if you heard his voice—”

“I don’t know why, but I’d rather you spoke to him first.”

He shrugged, then took the ID card from her fingers. He recognized the area code as central Massachusetts. He punched in Urquhart’s number, watching her as she stared out the window at the rolling breakers.

The connection went through and a woman answered on the second ring. When she called Urquhart to the phone, Liam heard children’s laughter and a dog barking in the distance. Obviously Urquhart was a family man.

What if he was cheating on his wife with Sara? Was that why she wanted Liam to call? In case the wife answered, a man asking to speak to her husband wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

“Urquhart,” a baritone voice said a few seconds later.

Liam gave a brief nuts-and-bolts explanation of the situation. Urquhart gasped. “Sara’s all right, isn’t she?”

The guy sounded convincing, Liam noted. “Yeah, she’s fine. A doctor checked her out, but she’s having residual memory problems.” He hoped he was making the situation sound light. Until Liam knew more, he trusted no one. If Sara was telling the truth and the car bomb explosion wasn’t a trap for him, then she was in serious danger. The fewer people who knew how vulnerable she was, the better. Liam’s suspicions of Urquhart were purely professional, he assured himself.

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?” Urquhart demanded accusingly.

Liam frowned as he watched Sara sip her coffee. “Here, let the lady tell you.” He held out the phone. Her lips tightened to a firm line and her hands clasped into fists. When he thought she would finally refuse, she reached for the phone with trembling fingers.

Chapter Four

“Hello?” Sara’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Sara, are you all right?” She strained to remember anything familiar about Urquhart’s voice, but failed. However, she felt relieved to hear the warmth and friendliness in his tone.

“What are you doing on the Cape?” Urquhart asked urgently. “You didn’t say anything on Friday about going away for the weekend.”

Disappointment wrenched her. She’d hoped he could tell her why she’d come to Bellwood Island. “Mr. Urquhart, I—I have a headache and I can’t speak to you for very long. But I’d appreciate your cooperation—”

“Mr. Urquhart? Why all the formality, Sara?”

She struggled to remember his first name. “Gregory,” she said finally. “In what capacity do you know me?”

“Dear God, Sara, what’s going on?”

“Please, er, Gregory. Just answer my questions?”

She heard him take a deep breath. “Very well, Sara. You are good friends with my wife, Linda, and me. You teach freshman English and history at Smith Bordman Academy, the same private school at which I’m the administrator. Since your grandmother’s passing, I’ve been like a father to you.”

“My grandmother? What about my parents?”

“Oh my God, Sara.” Now the voice was compassionate, as though he realized she indeed had a memory problem. “Your parents are dead. Your mother died in an auto accident when you were a child, then your father died some years later. You were raised by your grandmother, and lived with her until her fatal stroke a few months ago.”

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