“Like the man said, we promised not to kill him. Never said anything about turning him over to his victims. Guy had already stopped screaming by the time we were out of earshot.”
That was what had sent Juan back to Switzerland for a meeting with Bernhard Volkmann, which, as Juan recalled while sipping at his brandy, had gone as well as he’d expected.
Volkmann had agreed to buy the sixty tons of gold that had followed Juan to Switzerland in a couple of airfreight containers. He agreed to establish a trust with half the proceeds on behalf of the Chinese workers who’d mined the gold, and he agreed that he would then sell his bank and retire to the slums of Calcutta, where he would devote the rest of his life to charity.
For his part, Juan agreed not to put a bullet through the greedy bastard’s head.
A light knock on his door jerked Juan back to the present. The press interest in the explosion and kidnapping of Rudolph Isphording had long faded, and he looked nothing like the dark-haired, dark-eyed, and mustached Spaniard he’d pretended to be when he’d rented the safe house, so he walked calmly across the living room and swung open the door.
“Hi, sailor, remember me?” Tory wore her hair up, accenting the long line of her neck, and her blue eyes captured the glow of the fireplace and reflected it back at Juan. She wore a loose gray suit over a white oxford shirt buttoned low enough to catch his attention. Her lips were brushed with gloss and were poised in an unsure smile.
“I never expected to see you again,” Juan finally stammered. She’d disappeared soon after the
Her smile faded slightly. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Sure, sure.”
He fixed her a drink and was careful to sit opposite her in a chair rather than next to her on the couch facing the fire.
“I didn’t think you
“Then Max called me. He told me that you don’t keep a woman in every port, and in fact in all the years he’s known you, he’s never seen you even go on a date. He told me you were widowed and that your wife was killed by a drunk driver. He says you don’t have a single picture of her and only told him about her one night years ago, but that since her death you’ve cut yourself off from relationships.”
Juan made to speak, but Tory silenced him by crossing to the chair and placing one delicate finger across his lips.
“Max also told me that since I left, you’ve been an insufferable sod, which is why he called me. He seems to think you might like me, and was pretty certain I liked you. So here I am, flying in on a wing and a prayer. How about it? Remember what you told me. Only big risks can bring you big rewards.”
“Only Max ever knew I was married, and I didn’t tell him the whole truth,” Juan said softly. “She was killed by a drunk driver, but what I didn’t say is that she was the drunk. It was ten, no, eleven years ago. She had been to rehab twice already, but it never really stuck. I didn’t know she’d relapsed this time. When I saw the cop standing outside my door that night, I knew immediately what had happened.”
“I’m sorry.” Tory’s hand rested on Juan’s chest. “And you still carry a torch.”
He stared into her eyes. “I still carry the anger.”
The silence stretched for several seconds. “You’re not angry at her, are you.” It wasn’t a question. “It’s yourself you blame.”
“Who else can I?”
“Her, for one.” Tory shrugged out of her jacket. “Listen, Juan. Max told me you’ve already have another job lined up, and I’ve only a week’s leave from Lloyd’s. I’m not asking that you drop everything and marry me. I’m not even asking that you love me. I’m asking that for once you stop taking the blame for everything bad in the world and let yourself enjoy some of the good. When was the last time you were intimate with a woman?”
The frankness of the question sent a stirring jolt through his lower body and inside him a dam he’d spent half a lifetime erecting crashed down in a swirl of emotion. His hand wrapped around the back of her head of its own volition, his fingers entwined in her hair. “Since…”
“Don’t you think it’s about time?” she asked and kissed him.
Juan lifted her easily from the chair, cradling her in his arms as he moved to the bedroom, his heart beating like a trip-hammer. “It was never about time,” he whispered in her ear. “It was just waiting for the right person.” He smiled against her skin. “And I have to warn you I’m probably a bit rusty.”
“Don’t you worry. We’ll work the kinks out.” Tory gave a throaty chuckle. “And maybe even work a few kinks in.”
eBook Info
Title:
Dark Watch
Creator:
Clive Cussler With Jack Du Brul
Date:
2005
Type:
novel
Format:
