in her room she hurriedly slipped into a clean white blouse and a pair of sandals. Just before leaving to meet Hart, she drew back the curtain to the balcony to let sunshine pour in and warm the room. The view of the Arizona desert, sprawling out beyond the hotel for as far as the eye could see, was magnificent, and for a brief second she savored it, suddenly realizing how much she’d missed it. Then she saw a man standing on what appeared to be a path meandering through the foliage near the pool.
He was looking up at her.
Suzanne gave a start, her heart skipped a beat and she stepped quickly away from the window. Was he watching her? Or was she being paranoid?
A knock on her door sent her heart into her throat.
“Suzanne.”
She whirled around, her fear instantly abating as she recognized Hart’s voice. Just as instantly she admonished herself. She couldn’t do that, couldn’t put all her hope and trust in Hart Branson, no matter how much she wanted to. She had to remember to be wary of him, to suspect him of the worst. He could be the traitor. He could be a killer. He could even be the one who’d tried to run her down last night.
L.A. was only a short plane ride from Tucson. He could have been there. It was possible. She didn’t want to believe that, but she knew men found it all too easy to betray a woman. It had been a lesson she’d learned the hard way, first from her father, then from a stepfather, a fiancé and finally from her husband.
She would never trust a man again, not with her heart, and especially not with her life.
Suzanne walked to the door and opened it.
Her gaze met his directly. In spite of the cold, ugly suspicions she was determined not to ignore or forget, a river of warmth swept through her as Hart’s gaze met and held hers. “I thought we were meeting in the coffee shop,” she said, surprised at how calm she sounded.
“I thought you might have changed your mind.” He strode past her and into the room. “Maybe figured out that your lies weren’t going to work.”
Lies? Shock, then anger sped through her veins, burning away every molecule of caution and rationale, and dousing the desire that had been smoldering within her ever since the moment she’d stepped from her plane and saw him walking toward her.
She closed the door and turned, struggling to remain calm and resist the urge to stalk across the room and slap his face.
Anger gave her strength, and that allowed her to ignore her fears, at least for the moment. “I know what I’ve said sounds incredible, Hart, but I thought if anyone would or could believe me, it would you. You were Rick’s best friend. But—” she shrugged and glared at him “—if you don’t believe me, if you really think I lied, then I’ve obviously wasted your time and mine by coming here, and there’s nothing left for us to talk about.”
“Yes, there is.” His eyes held hers, refusing to let her look away, forcing her to face the disdain and resentment he’d lived with for the past year.
Suzanne felt her breath nearly desert her, along with her anger. After a moment that seemed an eternity, she tore her gaze from his and moved toward a chair, twisting her hands together, then thought better of sitting down and paused beside the faux fireplace. It was only because she still found him physically attractive that her emotions were in such a tangle. She should have expected that.
“I made a few phone calls after you left my office earlier,” he said, still standing in the center of the room.
She looked at him, wary again. Uncertain what to expect. “And?”
“Let’s just say that I know there is something going on.”
“Something,” she repeated slowly. “But you don’t believe what I told you?”
She saw the anger that flashed back into his eyes. “Rick is dead, Suzanne. He was the one flying his Cobra that day, not some doppelganger or science-lab clone. It was Rick, and there’s no way he survived that crash.” Hart shook his head. “No way. Which means there is absolutely no way he could have stolen those plans and be selling them now. And I’m pretty sure the feds aren’t so stupid they’d believe that, anyway.”
“Then who?” Suzanne asked, and added silently, Other than you?
He stared at her, and she suddenly realized that he suspected her. She felt her jaw drop, her hope shrivel and die. “You can’t… No, I don’t believe…” She shook her head. “You can’t really think I did it! How could I have stolen plans that were on that mission? I wasn’t there.”
Hart’s face remained a cold mask of scorn. “I don’t know. But I know Rick didn’t do it.”
She sagged against the fireplace. He wasn’t going to help her prove her innocence. He was going to damn her. The prospect of actually being charged with treason, followed by a life in prison, loomed before her, bringing a chill to her veins and a terror into her heart like none she’d ever felt before.
“But what I think or even know at this point doesn’t matter,” Hart added, his tone as hard as the glint in his eyes.
Suzanne looked up in surprise, not understanding what he meant, but feeling an unreasonable spark of hope.
“They think I’m in on it with you.”
Shock rendered her nearly speechless. “What?”
He watched her closely, saw the disbelief and surprise that pulled at her features, but knew he couldn’t believe everything he saw or heard. At least not yet, and especially not from her.
Suzanne sank onto a chair, her legs suddenly too weak to support her. The thought that the FBI would suspect him of being her accomplice had never crossed her mind. “Oh, Hart, I’m sorry. I never should have come to you. I never meant…”
To kill Rick? To get caught? To make me want you? The words screamed in Hart’s mind, but not from his lips. “I ordered my aide to do a background investigation on Rick. I should have it by morning.” He didn’t mention that he’d ordered one on her, too.
She looked up at him, puzzled. “Why? You know Rick was a good soldier, and you said you saw his chopper go down. You said it exploded. You said no one—”
“I know what I said,” Hart snapped, struggling to control his temper and hang on to at least a thread of patience. “But the feds don’t believe he’s dead, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to start.”
Suzanne nodded.
“I’ll go over the report in the morning, then decide what to do from there.”
“I’d like to see it, too.”
He frowned, instantly suspicious. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, really. I just know I have to be involved with whatever you’re going to do about this mess. It’s my fault you’ve been drawn into it. I shouldn’t have come here.”
He sat down in the chair across from her. Play their game. It was one of the first things he’d been taught in POW training. Play your enemy’s game and get inside their head. It was a soldier’s best
