“No, Olivia.” His temper eased. “I don’t want to kill her. I’m trying to keep them from killing her.”
“Why? Who is she? And what do they want with her? They said they were with the French police.”
Landon huffed and let go of her. “They’re not with any police force. At least not any legitimate one. Did you see the tattoos on the guards’ arms? The compass in a circle cut by two diagonal blades? It’s a terrorist group. The Red Brotherhood. They operate underground, mostly in Europe.”
Olivia rubbed her right hand over her opposite arm as if she were chilled. “What do they want with that girl? They said she was the daughter of a French official. And how are you involved in all this?”
Landon glanced past her toward the dark olive grove at her back. They didn’t have time for this. People were out looking for them right this minute. Even though they were in the Mediterranean, the temperature was cool at night. He didn’t have a coat or sweater or anything to give Olivia to warm her up. He needed to get her to some kind of shelter soon. But he knew if he didn’t give her something, she wasn’t getting back in the Kubota.
He rested one hand on the top of the ATV and placed the other on his hip as he tried to figure out how much to tell her. “A couple of years ago, the DIA sent me on a job. There was this scientist—Albert Crossler—who’d been tinkering with a new biotoxin that was really nasty. He hadn’t perfected it yet, but the US government got wind of it and wanted it. Crossler agreed to sell it to them, but after he created it, decided to sell it on the black market instead. Once word got out about what he’d planned, he went into hiding. The DIA sent me to find him.”
“Find him and do what?” Olivia asked carefully.
Landon rubbed two fingers over his brow, hating what he had to say next but knowing there was no way around it. Hating—especially—how it would change what Olivia thought and felt about him forever. “Find him and retrieve the biotoxin. And then make sure he couldn’t recreate it. Ever.”
Olivia drew in a deep breath, not knowing how to respond. Landon had just confirmed every one of her fears.
He was an assassin for the DIA. That woman in the compound had been right. He killed people for a living.
Bile slinked up her esophagus, but she forced it back, wanting—needing—to know more.
“You have to understand,” he said, looking at her with those dark eyes, “there are people in the military and our government who do things behind the scenes so bad shit doesn’t happen. If Crossler had sold that toxin to the Red Brotherhood or any other terrorist faction, there’s no telling how many innocent people would be dead around the globe today because of it.”
“I get that,” she said quickly, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her biceps because she didn’t want to think about that part of it all. She knew that her sister had done some things she wasn’t proud of all in the name of national security—what, exactly, Olivia wasn’t sure, but Eve had hinted at such over the last few months when Olivia had asked about her years with the CIA. Had she killed people too? Olivia wasn’t naïve enough to think that there weren’t people working undercover to keep the world safe, but there had to be a line between killing good people and killing bad, right?
For reasons she didn’t quite understand, she needed to know that Landon wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. And that he didn’t enjoy it.
Please don’t say you enjoy it.
“What happened when you went to . . . ? When you . . . ?” She swallowed hard. “What happened when you went to do your job?”
She couldn’t even say it. She knew that made her weak, but she didn’t care.
“I found him at his lab. He wasn’t surprised to see me. I think he must have known someone would get to him sooner or later. He cooperated and led me to the storage area. My orders were to take one sample of the toxin and destroy the rest. But he’d already gotten rid of it. There were no traces of the toxin at the facility.”
So the guy had known he’d be caught, and he wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done. Did that justify Landon killing him? Probably, but something in her gut hoped there was more.
“If he was dead,” Landon went on, “he couldn’t tell us where he’d stashed the toxin. So I decided to take him with me instead. Only his wife showed up then. And unlike him, she wasn’t cooperative. She was pissed.”
Olivia’s stomach tightened. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know more, but she needed to hear it all.
“I didn’t even know she was there. The intel said Crossler was alone at his lab. In situations like this, there are always acceptable losses. She saw me. She’d overheard our conversation. She knew where I was from and what I was there to do.”
A bitter reality rushed through Olivia. “So you killed her.”
“No.” He looked at her, and in his eyes she saw truth. A truth that rocked her to her core. “I draw the line at innocent women and children.”
When she didn’t answer, he looked down at the ground and kicked a rock near the toe of his boot. “She attacked me. I decided my best play was to get Crossler and get the hell out of there, but she went ballistic. She pulled a gun from under a table and fired. Somehow Crossler got hit. When she lunged for me, I pushed her back. She fell and hit her head against the counter.”
Olivia tried to picture the scene. The chaos. The blood. The woman’s psychotic screaming. “So you did kill her.”
“Not on purpose. I know you probably don’t see the distinction, but there’s a difference. A big one. At least there is for me.” Olivia did see it. But she wasn’t ready to admit that much just yet. “So what about the girl? I’m assuming this Danica is a daughter?”
Landon blew out a breath. “Yeah. My orders were to torch the lab upon completion of the job. Since they were both dead, I did a quick walk-through to make sure the toxin wasn’t hidden somewhere else, and that’s when I found her, hiding in a closet. She hadn’t seen what had happened, but she’d heard it. She was twenty at the time. One of those super smart genius kids who’d gone to college at the age of twelve and was already finishing her PhD. She’d recently started working with her father in his lab. The DIA missed that valuable piece of intel.”
“Did you . . .” God, she hated how this sounded. “Did you try to kill her too?”
“No.” Landon dropped back to lean on the driver’s seat of the Kubota, his feet braced in the dirt. “I told you I don’t do that kind of thing. I let her go.”
“Just like that?”
He was silent for a moment, staring down at the ground in front of him. “Yeah. Just like that.”
A strange vibration lit off in Olivia’s chest. The girl obviously could have identified him. She could have told people what he’d done. Had he not cared? What must this girl have thought of him after knowing—or thinking—he’d killed her parents?
Her mind flipped back to the gentle way Landon had comforted her on that street in Seattle three months ago when she’d flipped out after he’d rescued her from those Chechen terrorists who’d abducted her to get to her sister. How he’d held her and whispered soothing words in her ear. How she’d never been afraid of him, not once in all the time she’d known him, even after she’d watched him kill those guards only hours ago. Shocked? Yes. Freaked the hell out? Absolutely. But never afraid. Had this girl thought the same? Had he shown her the kind of compassion he’d shown Olivia?
A million questions circled in Olivia’s mind. She looked over at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring down at the dirt, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, his black button-down untucked and ripped in various places, one boot resting on the frame of the Kubota, lost in his own thoughts.
Was he remembering back to that day? Did he relive parts of it the way she relived her abduction? He’d said he still worked for the DIA but that he really was working for Aegis when she’d met him. She didn’t kn
ow how that was possible and wanted to ask, but another burning question needed answering first.
“Why do those people think you know where Danica Crossler is hiding?”
“Because after I reported back to my CO about what happened, I went and found her.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He was silent for several seconds. “Because I knew people—good and bad—would be looking for her. She’d worked with her father on some pretty scary research. And I knew even though she was smart as shit, she probably didn’t have the first clue how to hide.”
“You . . . helped her?”
“I got her set up somewhere safe. Taught her how to stay out of view and protect herself. I made sure they couldn’t find her.”
“Why?” Olivia wasn’t surprised anymore, simply curious. Why would a man—a DIA assassin—feel that kind of obligation toward a girl he didn’t even know?
Why did he start texting you?
She swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to draw too many parallels just yet, and waited for his answer. Several heartbeats went by before he said, “Because I ruined her life. Because I owed her. Because . . . it was the right thing to do.”
Olivia’s heart stuttered, and a firm reality slapped her in the face. One that slowly pushed her pulse higher until it was a roar in her ears.
He wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. A cold-blooded killer would never have cared about some orphaned girl. He wouldn’t have given a second thought to whether she lived or died. And he certainly wouldn’t be standing here now, out in the middle of nowhere, relaying it all to some woman who’d accused him of being a monster.
Heat burned her cheeks. Heat and regret and a thousand different emotions she didn’t have time to decipher right now. “Do you”—she swallowed that lump again—“know where she is?”
“Yeah. I’m the only one.”
Olivia’s head felt as if it was spinning. Spinning out of control. “So the people who took us. They want the biotoxin? And she—Danica—has it?”
“I don’t know if she’s recreated it. But yeah, she knows the formula.”
Another whisper of shock rustled through Olivia. “And the DIA isn’t afraid she’ll try to sell it on the black market, like her parents?”
He lifted his head and pinned her with that singular focus. The one that made her heart skip a beat. “No. The DIA thinks she’s dead.”
“Wh-why?”
“Because I told them I killed her.”
He cared about the girl. The realization was like a shot to Olivia’s stomach. How often did Landon see her? What kind of relationship did they have? Was it like the relationship Olivia had with him—flirty and platonic—or was it more like what he’d started with that woman, Chantal, in his hotel suite—hot and sexual?
Holy cow. Don’t be jealous. You have no right to be jealous. He’s not yours.
But she wanted him to be. Wanted him more than was rational. Wanted him even knowing everything he’d done.
He pushed away from the vehicle and moved toward her. A piercing, pleading, worried look filled his sexy eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, Olivia. I promise. I just want to get you somewhere safe where we can call Aegis and have you picked up. But we have to keep going. Those people are looking for us. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just please get back in the Kubota.”
Clouds moved overhead, causing a little more moonlight to shine down on his face, and she had to look away because the sight of that rugged jaw and those penetrating eyes were too much for her right now. Yes, she believed what he’d told her, but she was still struggling with how she felt about it all. And more than anything she was struggling with these feelings that were growing for him all over again. Feelings she thought she’d put behind her the moment she’d found that woman in his room.
“I can’t . . .” She meant to say deal with this right now. But her gaze strayed to his broad shoulders, then to his left arm, which she could now see—thanks to the increased light—was wet, and finally to the fabric near his upper arm. Ripped, frayed, the skin beneath stained with red.
Blood. That wasn’t sweat dampening his shirtsleeve. It was blood.
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding.” She reached for his arm. “When did you get hurt?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about.”
“It’s not nothing.” She tugged on the black fabric and ripped the hole wider so she could get a good look. The entire edge of his upper arm was red and bleeding, the inner flesh fully exposed. “Oh my God.”
His hand closed over hers against his forearm, and the warmth of his fingers kept her from losing what little lunch was left in her stomach. “I’m fine, Olivia. I tied it off. It’s just a flesh wound. There’s no reason for you to worry about me. I don’t deserve it.”
Her gaze drifted up to his. A sadness lingered in his eyes, one she hadn’t seen before. One that was so at odds with the confident, take-charge operative the rest of the world saw.
Was he saying he didn’t deserve to have someone care? That he didn’t deserve compassion? Everyone deserved that, no matter what they’d done in the past.
She let go of his arm and moved for the ATV. “Get back in.”
“Olivia—”
She climbed behind the wheel. “You need bandages and antiseptic and”—holy cow, she didn’t know what else—“antibiotics. We should be able to find that in another village, right? So get back in and stop wasting time.”
He didn’t move, just stood still staring at her, and she knew what he was thinking. That she had to be completely mental. She’d gone from scared and freaking out to screaming at him to now ordering him around, but she didn’t care what he thought. Because only one thing mattered. Regardless of what he’d done, he’d saved her life—twice now. And it was her turn to do the same for him.
“Aren’t you getting in?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He moved around the Kubota and climbed in beside her. “Yeah, I am.”
He handed her the keys, and she slipped them into the ignition and started the engine with hands that were steadier than she expected. As the vehicle lurched forward, she felt his gaze resting on her, but she didn’t turn to look. Couldn’t. Because her emotions were still too raw to deal with anything but his immediate wound. After that . . .
Yeah, after that she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Living moment to moment seemed like the best plan right now. Because if she thought too far ahead, she was afraid she might lose it for good.
“You’re amazing,” he said in a low voice. “You know that? Simply amazing.”
She huffed. “No, I’m just stubborn. Trust me, in the long run it will be my downfall. Just watch.”
“I doubt that.”
Olivia didn’t. Stubbornness had gotten her into more trouble over the years than she could count. It had wedged a rift between her and her sister. It had kept her rooted in a career she knew she wasn’t passionate about. And now it had brought her to Europe when Landon had warned her not to come.
And yeah, look how well that had turned out.
Relief was as sweet as wine.
As Landon rounded the corner in the small village and spotted Olivia slinked down behind a hedge, her blonde hair picking up the rays of moonlight, his heart rolled in his chest.
She could have run. As soon as they’d reached the next village, she could have beat feet and taken off without him. But she hadn’t.
After they’d ditched the Kubota in a ravine and covered it in brush, then hiked the mile toward the small town, he’d left her behind this hedge while he’d taken a quick glance around to get the lay of the land. Part of him had expected her to be long gone by the time he came back, but another part—a bigger part—was so relieved that she was waiting for him, he almost couldn’t breathe.
“Did you find it?” she whispered as he drew close.
<
br /> He nodded, fighting back the need to pull her close. “Yeah. Three blocks down. No alarm system.”
They’d discussed their options on the way here. They needed food, water, and warm clothes, if nothing else. Olivia had lost her sweater back at the compound, and though Landon had offered her his shirt, she wouldn’t take it, saying he needed it more than her. She wasn’t saying so, but he knew she was cold, and since he couldn’t put his arms around her and warm her with his body heat, finding another alternative was their only option.
They moved quietly through the empty, dark streets until they came to the back of the shop he’d scouted earlier. Judging by the position of the moon, it had to be close to three a.m. Landon pulled the screwdriver from his pocket and went to work on the lock on the back door.
“Where did you get that?” Olivia whispered. Close, but not close enough.
He jimmied the lock. “From a toolbox under the seat in the ATV.”
“Lucky,” she whispered, turning to scan the area. Lights shone over the cobblestone street, but they were few and far between. “So interesting. There are murals and phrases written all over the buildings. But I can’t read them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Landon jerked up on the screwdriver, and the entire lock mechanism broke free. “That’s because they’re in Italian. They’re political murals. They date back to the sixties.”
Olivia turned to face him. “Italian? How do you know?”
“Because I recognize them.” He rose to his feet, turned the knob, and shoved the door open for her. “We’re on the island of Sardinia. The village of Orgosolo is famous for its political murals. As soon as I saw them, I knew where we were. I figured they couldn’t have taken us too far from Barcelona.”