Heat infused her cheeks, rushed over her skin at even the memory of those few hours. He’d cast a spell on her. Made her want to for get everything and everyone else. Thank God she’d come to her senses.
Chafing her arms she banished the disturbing memories. She had to figure this out…had to find a way to make them see that she could not do this. She simply couldn’t do that to David’s memory.
Only, David would want her to help.
If lives were in danger he would want her to do whatever was necessary to help his fellow agents. But she needed more information. Surely they couldn’t expect her to do this with out further clarification.
And, dear God, could she do it?
Could she recreate David’s face on another man?
She stood on the far side of the room, her back to the door. For about three seconds Hennessey hesitated, admiring the view. She might be a pain in the ass, but he could look at hers all day. Nice. All those hours on the stair-stepper clearly made a difference.
He closed the door, allowing it to slam just enough to get her attention. Startled, she whirled to face him.
The frown of utter confusion telegraphed her first thought loud and clear: What the hell do you want? She had no doubt expected the directors to return with their man in tow. The last person she’d expected to enter the room was him.
“Dr. Cameron, I’m Special Agent Joe Hennessey.” As he moved to ward her he reached upward and removed his concealing eye wear. “If you’ll recall we met once before.”
Her eyes rounded and that cute little mouth dropped open. “You!” The single word was cast like an accusing stone.
He tossed the glasses onto the conference table and propped a hip there. “You remember me,” he offered, his smile infused with all the charm in his vast la dies’ man repertoire.
She pointed to the door then to him, her confusion morphing into disbelief. “It’s you he wants me to prepare for this mission?”
Hennessey flared his hands. “That’s right. Is there a problem?”
Her head moved from side to side as all that confusion and disbelief coalesced into outrage. “You’re nothing like David,” she accused.
Well, she had that right but he saw no point in bursting her bubble where her former lover was concerned. “I’m the same height and build. The hair color is close enough, the eyes will be an easy fix with colored contacts.” He shrugged, the control necessary to hold back his own patience slipping just a little. “I don’t see the problem.”
She blinked rapidly, her head doing that side-to-side thing again as if the very idea was blasphemy. “You’re not like David,” she argued.
He pushed off the table and moved to ward her, lowering his voice an octave, slowing the cadence of his words as he recalled the numerous taped conversations he’d listened to. “I can do any thing it takes to get the job done, Elizabeth.” Her head snapped up at his use of her first name. He said it with emphasis, the same way Maddox used to. “You’d be surprised at just how versatile I am.”
Her pupils flared. She shivered. But it was the little hitch in her breathing that actually got to him, made his pulse skitter and chinked the armor he wore to protect his emotions. He shook his head and looked away. How the hell had he let that happen?
“You expect me to trust any thing you say?”
Well, she had him pegged, didn’t she? Apparently she’d accepted every rumor she’d heard as fact. “Bottom line, Doc, I can’t do this with out you.” His gaze moved back to hers and he saw the concern and the hurt there. Dammit, he did not want to hurt her. Maddox had done that well enough him self, but she would never know it. “Will you help me or not?”
She tilted up that determined little chin and glared at him, a new flash of anger chasing away the doubt. “And if I refuse, what then?”
“People will die.”
She blinked, but to her credit she didn’t back off. “So I’ve heard. Can you be more specific? I need to know what I’m getting into here.” Her compact little body literally strummed with her building tension.
The question kind of pissed him off. Or maybe it was the glaring fact that he couldn’t keep his mind off her every reaction, couldn’t stay focused. “You know, Doc, according to Director Calder, you generally don’t question his requests. I understand this is personal,” he growled, “but do you really think Maddox would have a problem with me borrowing his face for a little while?”
Her fists clenched and Hennessey had the distinct feeling that it was all she could do not to slap him. Good. He wanted her responses to be real, wanted to clear the air here and now. He didn’t need her hesitation coming back to bite him in the ass down the line.
“David would probably say it’s the right thing to do,” she said tightly. “It’s me who has the problem.”