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Proposals

She heard her name first before Broots rounded the corner and entered the room, out of breath. He came to a breathless halt before her and she said, “Starting to sound like doctor Fester.”

“I’m sorry but I was trying to find you all over this place,” Broots wheezed.

“Why?”

Broots couldn’t disguise his fear when he said, “He’s here.”

“Who’s here?”

“Him.”

“I believe him… is me.” She turned and there stood Lyle, smug and dressed to kill.

“What the hell are you doing here, Lyle?”

“I’m here to help you catch Jarod.” What got her was the way he said it, as if it was self-explanatory and she the idiot for not seeing the obvious. She had nothing to add, no sharp retort when he gave a casual smile and said, “It’s good to be home again.”


The Centre

Lyle tucked at his suit, straightening his jacket as the two sweepers led go of him. He met her gaze with one equally as cold until she indicated with a wave of her hand for the sweepers to leave them alone. He slid his thumbless hand into the pocket of his pants, the action fuelled by habit. He turned slightly, watching the door close behind the men and then took in the room. It was in one of the upper floors of the tower and he could see the ocean glisten from the windows that was etched into the wall behind her. The décor was rich in taste and design as befit a triumvirate representative.

“Why am I here?” he asked calmly as he sat down in the chair before her desk.

She smiled in bemusement, her eyes scrutinising his body language. He felt the familiar dryness in his mouth and his missing thumb throbbed in unison with every quickened heartbeat. He remembered the unbearable pain when the knife had hit bone and had then had cut all the way through. The memory came so vividly that he felt his stomach roil in sympathy and it was only with will power that he kept everything down.

“Do you really want me to answer that for you?”

He relaxed into the chair and the unfamiliar feeling of fear disappeared. He knew this game and with the immediate threat of death averted, he smiled lazily.

“It’s only been a week since we last spoke. You don’t expect me to find her this quickly, do you?”

She lifted one elegant eyebrow in answer and he had to stop himself from fantasying about her body under his as her life bled out from her eyes. There might be time for that later, but not now.

“The triumvirate wants her back before the end of the month.”

“I don’t know if that is possible. As much as I want my dear sister and her lover back, it’s out of my hands. They’ve disappeared and we both know how good he is at hiding.”

“That’s unacceptable, Lyle. I expect more from you.”

“And I expected you to give me the truth. I’m sure the triumvirate will be interested to know that their beloved pretender is alive and that you had orchestrated the whole dying scene,” he said evenly, watching her carefully as his veiled threat hit home.

“That’s not true and you know it,” she hissed in answer, “Be careful Lyle, you’re playing with grownups now.”

He laughed. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Raines had taught me well so if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a pretender to catch. Make no mistake. We’ll continue this conversation again when my sister and her lab rat is safely home. That’s what you want, isn’t it.” He rose smoothly as the doors behind him opened.

“Lyle.” He heard his death in her voice and wondered insanely if he had read her wrong. He braced his body, knowing that he’ll never reach her before the bullets thudded into his back. But he’ll damn well try.

“I can delay the triumvirate for no more than two months. After that…” He understood the unsaid words and breathed again, his tight muscles relaxing. He’s gamble had paid off. His face impassive, he nodded briefly in acknowledgement before he turned and left, once again sandwiched between two sweepers.


Mason County

Jarod slipped an arm around her waist as she replaced the headset on its base. She felt the warmth of his body against hers. She turned and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes tiredly.

“Something’s wrong, Jarod. Ben’s not telling us everything.”

He rested his chin gently on her head. “Lyle’s searching for bread crumbs. He won’t find us.”

She stepped back, moving out of his embrace and gave him a bitter smile. “My brother has no compunction about using the Centre to get what he wants and right now he wants me. I can only imagine his obsession if he finds out that you’re alive.”

Whatever Jarod was about to say was interrupted when Major Charles entered the room. There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Miss Parker moved towards the big bay window overlooking a field covered in snow. Jarod followed her and she allowed him to envelope her in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Parker. I know that you feel frustrated and helpless. That you feel responsible for Ben’s wellbeing and that you’re concerned about him.”

He leaned his forehead against her and slid his hands down her arms until their fingers interlocked.

“All I ask for you is to trust me.”

He felt her hands trembling and new the effort it took for her to consider his words. Trust had never been something that came easy to her. She had been taught from a young age to mistrust everything regarding him, to trust the Centre. He was asking a lot and he had no idea if it would be enough.

“You shouldn’t.”

He eyes shimmered crystal blue with unshed tears.

“What happened to Thomas won’t happen to me, Parker. I promise.”

Her face tightened as angry tears started to spill. “You can’t make promises like that, Jarod. The Centre is never going to give up just because we will it.”

“Parker…”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, pulling her hands from his, “Don’t patronise me, Jarod. I’m not an idiot and I have no illusions as to our chances with the Centre. They will find us; the only question is when and how.”

Jarod reached out and pulled her into his embrace, folding his arms protectively around her. She resisted, standing frigid against his body. He felt the fragile trust between them start to unravel and he hated Lyle for having found them at Ben’s. For one insane moment he contemplated murdering the bastard.

“Please, Parker, just for once, trust me,” he whispered, willing her to believe his sincerity and to let go, to allow him to make things right.

He felt her tremble and then she lifted her head. He saw the conflict that raged inside her. He cupped her cheek and then – despite the fact that his father was in the room – he kissed her, long and deep. He felt the tension flow from her body and tasted her tears, mixed with the slight sweetened tang of her lips. They only broke their embrace when a slight embarrassed cough sounded from behind Jarod.

“Jarod, Chris is back from town. We should leave.”

He nodded, to let his father know he’s heard but his attention was still focused on the woman in his arms. He kissed her softly this time, a chaste kiss on the lips that lingered for a short while and then he whispered against her mouth, “Marry me.”

Her eyes widened and she pulled slightly back, searching his features. “This is crazy,” she said, her eyes bright.

“Say yes.”

“Okay.”

They both grinned like idiots and the brief fear that had gnawed a hole in his stomach that she would say no was gone. And then Chris entered the room, his cheeks flushed from the cold with bags of fast food in his arms.

“Who’s hungry?”


 

 





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