Breaking Protocol Page 11

  “Not every mission goes as planned. You knew that going in. You can’t keep beating yourself up over one misstep in an otherwise successful career.”

  Piper cringed and punched the mattress. “I might as well have put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger myself.” Which was exactly what she would have done had Escobedo’s men not expedited the matter for her. Still, she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d allowed a man she obviously didn’t know get close enough to kill her. Piper closed her eyes against the stark memory of her near-fatal mistake. She could never tell Riggs the truth about that night. It was far too humiliating to admit she’d been so completely fooled. He’d never trust her judgment again.

  “You couldn’t possibly have known how or what was going to happen in that cabin. If you want somewhere to place the blame for that night, then put it on the agency, where it belongs. You should have been extracted weeks earlier.”

  A companionable silence settled between them as they were momentarily lost in their own thoughts.

  “Nice try, Riggs,” she finally said, patting him smartly on the leg. The crack of her palm against his bare skin was enough to shake them both out of their reverie. “But nothing you say or do will ever change what happened that night.” With the intention of putting an end to the conversation before Riggs detected her reluctance to expand on the details, she crawled to the end of the bed and reached for the tee and shorts she’d worn the day before.

  As she’d fully hoped, Riggs took his cue from her and pushed off the bed. He stopped just short of the doorway and settled a lingering gaze on her. “Give yourself a little more time to sort everything out, okay? There’s nothing that can’t wait until we get back to D.C.”

  A halfhearted shrug was the best she could do, which she followed with an even less enthusiastic, “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask,” he said as he scooped up her cross-trainers and tossed them in her direction. “Beach. Fifteen minutes.” After he exited, he yelled, “Be there.”

  Piper waited a full minute after his footsteps faded before she dropped the clothes on the floor and crawled back into bed.

  “Screw running,” she mumbled as she burrowed into her pillow and dragged the sheet over her head. With or without him, sleep or no sleep, she planned on spending the day in bed, going nowhere and doing nothing.

  * * *

  Carter sat across from Piper as he quietly ate his dinner.. After every couple of bites, he glanced in her direction then resumed the fork-to-mouth repetition.

  He racked his brain for something to say and wondered what in the hell was wrong with him. This was Piper, for God’s sake, not some random woman he’d slept with. She wasn’t an ignorant civilian like the others he’d dated. She was his equal and the very first woman he’d ever been with that he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. With her he never weighed his words to keep the conversation from lagging. There had always been an easy camaraderie between them; he couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been. Then why, he wondered, was he having difficulty forming a single, rational thought whenever he cast a glance in her direction?

  “Did I mention that InPro moved its headquarters to a new location while you were away?” Not perhaps the most sparkling repartee, but he had to start somewhere. It was as good a jumping-off point as any. It was certainly more than she was bringing to the table.

  Carter took another forkful of pasta and slowly chewed as he waited for her snappy-comeback mode to kick in. When it didn’t by the time he swallowed, he added, “We were still in the process of getting everything settled when I took off for Colombia. I dread the daunting task of unpacking and arranging my office when I get back. I could sure use some help organizing my stuff.”

  Piper dragged a long breath in through her nose and expelled it slowly in a pursed-lip manner he knew she used to stall and collect her thoughts, but her glazed expression told him she’d hardly heard a word he’d said. She frowned, as if pondering what she thought she heard. “What was that about you moving?”

  “I didn’t move, InPro did.”

  “Oh, then you didn’t sell your condo,” she said.

  “No, I didn’t, but I sure could use some help to unpack and organize just the same. Care to volunteer?”

  “Sure, Riggs, whatever you need,” she replied as she absently fingered the stem of her wineglass and let the silence settle around them once more.

  He refilled his wineglass and took a long swallow, trying to determine what disturbing thoughts were tumbling around in that lovely head. What concerned him more was the unnatural calm surrounding her present demeanor, as if in her forced solitude she’d reached hard truths about herself, and he had to wonder if he hadn’t made a huge mistake by not insisting she go running, even if it meant dragging her down to the beach and prodding her every step of the way.

  In hindsight, he feared that leaving her alone the way he had with nothing but her troubled thoughts for company, he’d allowed her too much time to brood and slip into this uncommunicative funk for which he had only himself to blame.

  It had even taken some serious coaxing to convince her to join him for dinner that evening. It was like she was intentionally distancing herself from him, and he racked his brain to find a way to stop her. He wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. There would be time enough for that when they returned to civilization, or whenever fate intervened and made the decision for him.

  “Is there something wrong with the pasta?” Carter questioned as he lifted his wineglass to his lips. He took several sips, appreciating the full-bodied merlot, as he waited patiently for her to respond.

  “No,” she finally answered, picking up her fork. “It’s fine,” she added with a polite smile as she absently twisted the utensil in the spaghetti noodles until there was a significant portion wound around the tines. She eyed the overly abundant forkful and then cringed with obvious revulsion.

  The fork fell from her fingers and she pushed the plate away. “I’m sorry, Riggs, I’m just not hungry tonight.”

  “Then how about a movie? You look like you could use a four-hanky tearjerker.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?” There was an all-too-familiar belligerence in her tone.

  “I’ve never seen you cry.” This was a statement of fact, an indisputable observation, not a supposition that needed confirmation.

  “Well, don’t hold your breath. I gave up on that unproductive activity a long, long time ago.”

  “How can you do that?” Women who used tears to manipulate annoyed the crap out of him, but he liked this flip side even less.

  She shrugged indifferently. “Never saw any purpose. It’s a waste of time and never solved anything.”

  Debating the issue would also be a waste of time, Carter realized, so he dropped it. “You know, if we can’t find something to watch on satellite, there’s quite a collection of DVDs in that cabinet over there. Why don’t you go pick one out?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, shoving her chair away from the table. “I’m going to head to my room and read for a while, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it’s okay,” he said. This wasn’t like her. She never asked for permission to do anything, not even when agency protocol required it. He wondered why she felt compelled to do so now.

  When she stood, so did he. As she came around the table, he took her by the arm. “P.J., I want you to know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “For what?”

  A flicker of something started to surface in her distant gaze. “Oh, lots of things,” she said softly. Remorse fell across her features like a dark shadow. She bowed her head, turned away and took several deep breaths. When she looked up again, she was composed and dry-eyed.

  “You’ll still be
my friend when we get back to Washington, won’t you?”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I’ll be your friend. I don’t foresee that ever changing, although I thought we’d recently moved past that classification.”

  “That won’t ever change our core friendship, will it?”

  He wasn’t sure if it would or not, but he answered, “I hope not.”

  “I hope not, too...” Taking a step nearer, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek against his shoulder and whispered, “Because I’d miss you.”

  Planting a chaste kiss on the top of her head, his arms slowly wrapped around her in a tender embrace. “I’m worried about you, P.J. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re so...” He searched for the right word. When he realized what that word was, he found it incredible that he was about to use it in reference to her. “...passive.”

  Her mood brightened and she actually chuckled. “Better enjoy it while it lasts, Riggs. I guaran-damn-tee you’ll be wishing for a little of that passivity when I’m back to my old pain-in-the-ass self.”

  He had to chuckle himself at her spot-on assessment. “Call me crazy, but I like you better when you’re feisty.”

  “You know you’re going to regret telling me that.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he agreed, knowing she spoke God’s truth. “I’m sure I will.”

  Piper dropped her arms and removed herself from the circle of his embrace. She cleared her throat and said, “Goodnight, Riggs. See you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight,” he said as he watched her retreat. He’d be a lying fool if he said he wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t at least suggest he join her, if not now then later, but he had to trust her instincts even as his own were telling him to let her go, that it was for the best. His heart was telling him something entirely different, however.

  Not looking forward to sleeping alone, he snatched up the remote and halfheartedly surfed through the multitude of satellite channels. He stopped when he found a post-season playoff game between his hometown team, the Florida Marlins, and everybody’s perennial favorite, the Chicago Cubs.

  The bottom of the seventh inning was shattered by familiar screams. Not the least bit surprised by this turn of events considering her earlier frame of mind, he hurried to her room and found her just as he had the first time her screams had brought him running. He took her into his arms and spoke to her with soothing tones, rocking her until she relaxed and settled into a restive slumber. He eased her against the pillows, straightened her cover and sat on the edge of the bed staring at her for the longest time, wondering how deep her nightmares flowed as he watched her toss and turn with a restlessness he found exhausting.

  No wonder she suffered from insomnia. Who’d want to fall asleep when faced something so dark and frightening on a nightly basis? It was no secret he wanted to help her get through this, but he wasn’t sure where to start. He wanted to take care of her, but he didn’t know if she’d let him. And more than anything, he wanted to love her, but he knew that wasn’t a luxury he could afford.

  When he returned to the living room, he discovered the ball game over and another sporting event already in progress. Unaccustomed to having so much free time, he flipped through the channels with little enthusiasm since his thoughts were decidedly more focused on the woman in the next room. He finally thumb-punched the Power button and tossed the remote control aside.

  Soothed by the rhythmic surf and the rustling palms, the sudden darkness enveloped him until his eyes adjusted as he tried to make some sense out of the situation he had gotten himself into with a woman he had no business getting involved with in the first place.

  “Shit,” he muttered as he removed the holster from his waistband, placed it within easy reach on a nearby side table and toed off his sneakers. Not ready to face an empty bed and unsure if Piper would welcome him climbing into hers, he stretched his frame the length of the sofa and eventually fell into a sleep as restless and troubled as the woman’s who’d caused it.

  * * *

  It was something completely outside the realm of his consciousness that caused Carter to bolt upright, fully alert and reaching for his gun. Rising slowly, he kept himself concealed by following the room’s perimeter shadows as he crept toward the balcony door, where the flickering arc of a flashlight beam swept the room. Carter curled his finger over the trigger, pressing himself against the wall nearest the security keypad and punched the code to turn off the alarm. If whoever was outside wanted in, he wasn’t about to stop them until they were officially trespassers.

  The latch clicked and the door slid slowly open. Carter never hesitated. He pressed the gun muzzle against the skull of the first person that entered. “One more step and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

  The intruder froze and slowly raised his hands in surrender. Then he laughed. “I’m so glad to see you haven’t lost your skills.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Riggs said as he lowered his weapon and reached for the light switch.

  Chapter Nine

  “Agent Jordan still asleep?” InPro’s director questioned as he glanced around.

  Carter wondered why Jackson Pritchard scanned the area, not as if he expected to find Piper, but like he was mentally noting the layout of the place and its exits. Was it Pritchard’s years of covert experience or his own that caused his suspicions?

  “It’s scarcely dawn. Where else would she be?” Carter entered the galley kitchen and poured two mugs of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. He didn’t bother putting out cream or sugar. He knew they both took their coffee black. “Nightmares kept her up part of the night.”

  “Colombia?” Jackson stated with a frown, sounding genuinely concerned.

  Riggs nodded. “What else?”

  “What else indeed?” Jackson muttered.

  “We didn’t get to her in time,” said Carter. He clutched the stoneware mug between his palms and watched the steam rise off the dark liquid.

  “You can’t blame yourself for that. The GPT jam was an unpredictable technical glitch.”

  “I keep telling myself that, but—” Carter hesitated before finishing, “—it’s still not easy seeing one of your agents go through something like that.”

  “You got her out alive. That means something.”

  “Yeah, that’s something, I guess.” Carter stared past the wall of glass to the beach and ocean beyond. The rising sun turned it to a shimmering expanse of undulating amber. That Piper Jordan was still alive was more than something to him, it was everything, but now was not the time to reveal how his relationship with Piper had changed. As far as the director of InPro was concerned, there was no room within their organization for personal entanglements.

  Carter took a long, hard look at the man sitting across from him. Pritchard presented himself more like a Fortune 500 CEO than the director of a federally contracted secret ops agency. He was a stern authoritarian and was not open to exceptions to his rigid departmental policies. Fraternization between fellow agents was not just discouraged, it was forbidden. Old school, perhaps, but rules nonetheless. That Riggs was also higher than Piper in the chain of command only further complicated matters and made his indiscretion that much worse. No, now was definitely not the time to out his personal involvement with a subordinate, even if she was planning on leaving. Pritchard wouldn’t consider her offer to leave the organization as a free pass.

  After taking a long swallow of coffee, Carter set his cup aside and leaned in close toward Jackson. “You know, Jack, we’ve known each other a long time. I’ve never found it necessary to mince words with you in the past.”

  As if Carter had invaded his personal space, Jackson scooted his chair away from the table and leaned back in his seat. “It’s a quality in you I’ve always admired.”

  “I got to tell you, I’m a little confu
sed by your showing up in the middle of nowhere like this.”

  “Is that right?” Jackson relaxed his posture and conveyed his personal brand of indifference. “Why is that?”

  “You’ve never interfered or questioned the way I handle my end of the agency. This personal appearance of yours has me wondering if I should be updating my résumé.”

  Pritchard’s response was a low, jabbing snigger, which made Carter that much more uneasy. He’d always enjoyed playing cat and mouse, except for now when it appeared that he was cast in the unaccustomed role of the rodent.

  “Why are you here, Jack? I know you didn’t travel all this way just because I make a fine cup of coffee.”

  Pritchard removed his gold-framed, brown-tinted lenses and pinched the bridge of his nose before he lifted his gaze. Carter hid his surprise when he found himself staring into unfamiliar eyes.

  If Carter was ever asked to select one single distinguishable feature about Jackson Pritchard, it would have to be the man’s unsettling pale blue eyes, known to freeze a man in his tracks with one sweeping glance as deep and cold as a mountain lake and damn near as deadly if trapped in their depths.

  “If you must know, I’m here because I’m concerned about your safety.” Jackson paused. “We need to get Piper out of here and into a secure facility.”

  Carter’s blood ran a few degrees colder and his gut twisted into an uneasy knot. “Do you have reason to believe Escobedo’s picked up her trail?”

  “Escobedo is the least of her problems—or yours, for that matter.”

  Carter’s mind raced with possible risk factors, none of which explained why the director of operations would leave his cushy D.C. office and travel thousands of miles to personally deliver the message. “What does that mean?”