He’s in Amalza. One of the smallest Mediterranean islands outside the Mallorca group off the coast of Spain—”
“Where famous honeymooners hide out, and tax cheats, illegal arms dealers and financial wizards from the wrong side of Wall Street abound,” he filled in with his own special blend of unique grinning irony. He leaned against the hot wall, folding his arms across his tight, muscled chest as he smiled still, making her gulp. “So are we going to an ‘Embassy’ do?”
Grateful for the distraction, she laughed. The “Embassy” was infamous among those in the know. The Embassy was an enormous white castillo of indecent luxury owned by Robert Falcone, an illegal arms dealer who absconded with billions of dollars when his British financial empire collapsed. Anyone who was someone on the international black market partied there—and any spy worth their salt longed to infiltrate it. Every Interpol operative or connected agent dreamed of being the one to take the slippery-smooth Falcone down. A party there was a potential gold mine for the arrest of the century.
“That’s the point of us going, Irish,” she shot back with a lifted brow and a quirky grin. “Why do you think Nick wants me in on this? Burstall’s in Amalza. We’ve heard rumors he’s in hiding out at the Embassy. Falcone has made it obvious he’d love to get up close and personal with me. Falcone’s castillo has tighter security than the White House, but if I go to Amalza—even on my honeymoon—you think he won’t send me an invite?”
“Oh, he will,” Tal retorted dryly. “The question is, will I get an invitation to come with my lovely wife?” He limped to the roller doors and with a bunching heave he let fresh air in, tropical-warm and sweet-scented. “It’s too hot in here.”
Oh, yeah, baby, it was hot all right…she was so hot she could barely think. Those well-worn jeans molded his butt like a loving glove… “Doesn’t matter,” she made herself say through a lump in her throat that felt like sticky tar in summer. She’d had a love affair with that butt for more years than she wanted to remember. “I can’t afford to go without backup.”
He turned back to her and frowned. “Mary-Anne, this is your venue. What use will I be in this beyond window-dressing? I am—was—Search And Rescue. A field operative and medical officer. I might be a doctor, but I’m a bush kid. Tact and subtlety, or sophisticated man-about-town, I don’t think I’ll handle well.”
“Maybe it’s time to stretch your skills.” She hoped her lifted brow, her cynical smile, would stop the unwanted question forming, unbidden, on her rebel lips. “I learned to play the game quick enough. I’m sure you’ll pick it up.”
He gave her a strange, intent look. “Are you willing to risk your life on me being able to do that?”
“As much as you are, I guess.” Could she handle a fake marriage with Tal, when it could all end in a week and she’d never see him again, except on trips home to see the family—
The thought slammed into her like a truck hitting a kangaroo on a dark Outback road. She felt the blood drain from her face. “Tal,” she whispered, “our parents—”
He jerked around to her, taking her words and running with them. “Not just them. Your brother. My grandparents. Bloody hell, the whole town of Cowinda.”
“My mum and dad and Greg always wanted us to get married,” she whispered, her mind racing along with the horror of the scenario unfolding in her mind.
“My family, too. Dad dreamed of Poole’s Rest and Eden being one property, after Greg chose vet science instead of farming. And you know how much they love you.” He looked at her, his face dark as a sudden Outback storm. “We can’t do this to them.”
“Ghost wants our families as part of the thing, to make it authentic. They’re to come to the wedding, but they can’t know the truth about us being Nighthawks, or our marriage being for the mission…” Her mind went blank. “It would put them at risk.”
“The media will hound ’em as soon as the mock-up starts. Our mothers would give the lot of ’em the scoop on us, along with a bang-up dinner to celebrate.” His muscles bunched again as he leaned both hands on the metal wall. “They won’t just be heartbroken when we break up—they’ll be publicly humiliated.”
Tal always called a spade a spade. A hand lifted to her mouth. “When we break up after the mission…if it leaks out later that our wedding was a fake, I don’t think they’d get over it…”
Still leaning on the wall, he turned his face to her, his eyes burning. “It’s crunch time, Mary-Anne—regional stability or the people we love. We either let someone else handle the assignment or we break our parents’ hearts and shatter the illusions of everyone in Cowinda.”
More ramifications Nick couldn’t possibly have taken into account, because he wasn’t born and raised in a tiny, close-knit Outback town of less than eight hundred people. “We’re the shining kids of Cowinda. We put the place on the map.”
“I was just a doctor. You’re the one who put Cowinda on any maps that matter, sweetness,” he interjected dryly.
She waved that off. “Our marriage would be a fairy tale come true for everyone in town—well, except your ex-wife, her daddy and a few of their followers,” she added, just as dry. “There’s no way everybody wouldn’t know, or find out. The wedding being leaked to the papers is a vital part of the assignment. The paparazzi would bolt to Cowinda to get the scoop. Everyone’s going to have a point of view, want their moment of fame. And when we break up, it’ll make them all look like fools.”
Still slow and thoughtful, he said, “I don’t know about you, but I can’t do this to Mum and Dad. Not since Kathy died. I’m all they’ve got left—and they want me to remarry and have kids.” His mouth twisted in a cynical slash as he finished.
Mary-Anne almost gaped at him. “You haven’t told them about the accident, have you?”
He shook his head. “Anson wanted it kept secret until my contract runs out. I wanted to wait until after the final operation, anyway. After Kathy’s death…I couldn’t scare them like that, or wreck their dreams of me finding another wife.”
She clenched her jaw shut. The man was stone blind, deaf and stupid…he had to be. A woman stood right in front of him, almost dying with the pain of wanting him, and he couldn’t even see it…
Don’t make a fool of yourself over him again. Once is enough.
“Tal, people have died.” Though a tad croaky, her voice was calm, a thin cloak hiding her anguished desire. “The Virginia office is right—only you and I have any chance at all of pulling this mission off. My fame will give us bona fides. Falcone’s interest in me guarantees us an invitation into the Embassy. Ginny’s lies about us will help make our marriage look above suspicion. Any other newcomers to the island would be too heavily scrutinized.” She couldn’t stop the words tumbling from her mouth like falling dominoes. “It’s not only the Nighthawks that will be destroyed with this, Tal. Falcone’s latest arms cache is big enough to start a war or three. The rumor mill inside Interpol has it that he’s not just sending guns to Tumah-ra, but bombs. He’s got caches ready to send to rebel militia and fractious religious groups in volatile countries in Africa and Eastern Europe.”
Tal bit out a gritty epithet. “Then what the hell do we do? I won’t sacrifice our families, but I can’t risk innocent lives for them, either.”
She bit her lip and held on to
