“All right,” she relented to Mr. Dawson’s obvious relief. “I’ll see him, for a few minutes only.” She held up a hand when Dawson would have moved to ward the dark sedan parked next to her car. “Any thing else he needs will have to wait until I get back from my cruise,” she said just to be sure he fully grasped the situation. “Even doctors take vacations.”
“I understand, ma’am,” Dawson confirmed with a pleas ant smile. But something about the smirk on the other man’s face gave her pause. Did he know her? She just couldn’t shake that vague sense of recognition. Maybe he was privy to what the director wanted and already knew she was in for a battle if she wanted this vacation to happen.
She was still a private citizen. She accepted no money for her work and she had never refused the Agency’s requests. But this time she just might.
Elizabeth settled into the back seat of the dark sedan and Dawson closed her door before sliding behind the steering wheel. The other man took the front passenger seat, snapped the safety belt into place and stared straight ahead. Elizabeth was glad he hadn’t opted to sit in back with her. She didn’t like the guy. He made her feel threatened on some level. A frown inched its way across her fore head. She had to admit that he was the first Agency staff member she’d met who actually looked like one of the guys depicted in the movies. Thick, dark hair slicked back. Concealing eyewear, flinty profile. She shivered, then pushed the silly notion away.
She wanted spontaneity in her life, not trouble. This guy had trouble written all over what she could see of that too handsome face. Upon further consideration, she decided it was his mouth that disturbed her the most. There was a kind of insolence about it…a smugness that shouted I could kiss you right now and make you like it.
Another shudder quaked through her and she reminded her self of what falling for a spy had cost her already.
CIA agents did not make for reliable companions. She knew better than most. A pang of old hurt knifed through her. She’d made a mistake, veered too close to the flame and she’d gotten burned.
Never again.
If she fell in love a second time, which was highly doubtful considering her cur rent track record, it would be with someone safe, someone predictable.
Safe.
At one time she’d considered David safe.
But she’d been wrong.
He’d felt safe and comfortable, but it had been nothing but an illusion.
David Maddox had been every bit as dangerous—as much of an adrenaline junkie—as all the rest in his line of work. CIA agents were like cops; they thrived in high-tension situations, on the thrill of the hunt. No matter how quiet and reserved David had pretended to be, he’d been just like the rest of them.
Just like Craig Dawson and his companion.
Men willing to risk it all for their country, who broke hearts and left shattered lives.
She didn’t want that kind of man.
Never again.
Elizabeth focused on the passing landscape, refused to dwell on the subject. The sky scrapers and bumper-to-bumper traffic of the D.C. area eventually gave way to trees and only the occasional passing motorist. It seemed odd to Elizabeth that the CIA’s head quarters would be nestled away in the woods, seemingly in the middle of no where, like a harmless, sprawling farm. But there was nothing harmless about the vast property. Security fences topped with concertina wire and cameras. Warnings about entering the premises with electronic devices. Armed guards. Definitely not harmless in any sense of the word.
Dawson braked to a stop and flashed his ID for the guard waiting at the entrance gate while another guard circled the sedan with a dog trained to sniff out explosives and the like. Even now she imagined that high-tech gadgets were monitoring any conversation that might take place in side the vehicle. Every word, every nuance in tone scrutinized for possible threat.
The recruits here were trained to infiltrate, interrogate, analyze data and to kill if necessary. Their existence and proper training were essential to national security, she understood that. Respected those who sacrificed so very much. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel comfortable here. It took a special kind of human being to fit into this world. Her gaze flitted to the man in the front passenger seat. A man like him. Dark, quiet, enigmatic. A man fully prepared to die…to kill…for what he believed in.
A dangerous man.
But not dangerous to her…never again. No more dangerous men in her life, she promised her self as she did her level best to ignore the premonition of dread welling in her chest. Safe. Occasionally spontaneous maybe, but safe. She had her new life all mapped out and the dead last thing it included was danger.
Chapter 2
The main lobby of the CIA headquarters always took Elizabeth’s breath away. The granite wall with its stars honoring fallen agents. The flags and statues…the grandeur that represented the solemn undertaking of all those who risked their lives to make the world a safer place. The shadow warriors.