Raven on the Wing Page 8

  Josh thought his mouth was open, and hastily closed it as his friends burst out laughing. Bemused, he looked back at Hagen. “Obviously, you brought her back from Hong Kong. And then?”

  “We made the necessary alterations to our fabricated background: Raven’s prints, photograph, and so on. Then we circulated rumors in the correct quarters and waited a couple of days for interest to stir. Travers, as expected, stirred. We set Raven up in a ridiculously expensive suite in the best hotel in the city—and he came calling almost immediately.”

  Josh was frowning, the moment of humor forgotten. “Travers is paranoid; it’s common knowledge. What made you certain he’d accept Raven so quickly?”

  The lost humor was hovering in Hagen’s eyes. “A reason I believe you’ll appreciate, Mr. Long. You see, Travers, like all men, has his weaknesses. And his greatest weakness of all is twofold. First, quixotic though it sounds and difficult as it is to believe, he possesses a sincere liking for women. It’s his blind spot in a very real sense. He’s suspicious of every man on earth, but never women. The only really surprising thing is that no one’s used it against him. Until I decided to.”

  Josh was still frowning, but not because he doubted Hagen’s conclusions. He had, in fact, heard something along the same lines himself. “Are you saying,” he demanded, “that Raven isn’t in danger from him?”

  “No. Oh, no—that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? But his trust is easily won by women, comparatively speaking. And easily destroyed in the specific, although never in the abstract; if he stops trusting one woman, he doesn’t stop trusting them all. No, Raven could easily be in danger if she lost the trust she’s been at some pains to build with him.”

  Josh absorbed those words. Then, accepting them, he felt the fear roll through him again at the thought of the danger he had placed her in. “All right. You said his weakness was twofold?”

  “Exactly. And that was another reason to recall Raven.” Hagen was smiling broadly now. “You see, Mr. Long, Travers has a weakness for women. And an absolute obsession with beautiful brunettes.”

  FIVE

  IRONIC THOUGH IT certainly was, Josh had no difficulty in accepting that. He sighed a little and looked at Raven, resisting the nearly overpowering urge to kiss her and the hell with watching eyes. Then he looked at Hagen. “I see.”

  “He treats me like a lady,” Raven offered. “Even though he knows … well, what I’m supposed to be. He’s never even made a pass. I’ve had more trouble with Theodore than Leon.”

  “Who’s Theodore?” Josh asked.

  Unconsciously, Raven toyed with the fingers lying warmly across her silk-covered thigh. “What’s Theodore is more like it,” she said dryly. “He’s some kind of assistant to Leon, but the man is totally inept. And whenever Leon isn’t nearby, Theodore makes passes right and left.” Parenthetically, she added, “He has clammy hands.”

  She wondered why she wasn’t experiencing a loss of dignity in sitting on Josh’s lap with four men watching, but felt as gloriously unconcerned as she had when those same four men had interrupted earlier. It didn’t seem to matter.

  Even with the deadly seriousness of what they were discussing, Josh was having a very nearly impossible time concentrating on the matter at hand. He had an instant surge of anger when he heard that anyone made unwelcome passes at Raven, but the emotion was fleeting due to her unconcern; obviously, she could handle Theodore. Remembering her defensive move earlier, Josh thought she could handle most men.

  He glanced down to watch her fingers toying with his, vaguely glad that the other men could see nothing because of the desk. Also vaguely, he wondered how long he could continue to sit tamely with Raven in his lap and not turn rabid.

  Hagen spoke into the silence. “So, you see, we have at least two strong points in our favor. But when Travers discovers, as he most certainly will, that Joshua Long has been thoroughly checking Raven’s background, he’s not going to smell a romance. He’s going to smell a trap.”

  Josh forced all his attention on Hagen, helped by the very real danger Raven was facing. With reluctant logic, he said, “And you can’t pull her out. There isn’t enough time to bring another operative in to win his trust, is there?”

  “No.”

  Josh stirred restlessly, then went still as his body reacted violently. He cleared his throat and tried to think. “What, then? You must have a plan.”

  “That depends on you.” Hagen was smiling faintly. “I have a plan of sorts. I think it will work. Don’t forget, I’ve accumulated information on Travers for years. I’ve observed him in almost every conceivable situation. I’ve crawled in and out of his head so many times, I know how he thinks. And I believe we can set the stage so that he will instantly and quite naturally accept your abrupt presence in Raven’s life as no threat at all.”

  “Well? What’s the plan?”

  Glancing at the three men sitting near him, Hagen murmured, “The fewer people who know about this …”

  Mildly, Zach said, “We aren’t known for our lack of discretion.”

  Josh gave Hagen a level look. “The plan.”

  Apparently convinced that Josh’s lieutenants were trustworthy, Hagen smiled benignly at Josh. “How willing are you to make a public fool of yourself?”

  “Where would you like to have dinner, my dear?”

  Back in her ice-maiden persona, Raven allowed her fingertips to rest lightly on Leon Travers’s arm as they left the elevator. “I’ll leave it to you.” As always, her voice was cool and cultured, her expression detached; both spoke volumes for her acting ability, since she was tense and anxious. What if something went wrong?

  And, almost immediately, something did.

  Theodore scurried across the lobby toward them, a rabbit pursued by imaginary hounds, and hailed his employer and relative nervously. “Leon, I can’t find that contract!”

  Travers stopped walking and stared at the younger man, the expression in his gray eyes unreadable. “We won’t need it until tomorrow, Theodore,” he reminded him in a gentle tone that didn’t quite hide annoyance.

  Theodore blinked rapidly. “I know, but—”

  “Tomorrow, Theodore.”

  Raven, detached, gazed into the middle distance and idly considered telling Travers that his rabbity relation had clammy hands with a habit of wandering, but discarded the notion. She was getting giddy with tension, she knew, and resisted an urge to glance at her watch.

  “But, Leon—” Theodore bleated, only to be interrupted by a roar from the building’s front entrance.

  “Travers!”

  Theodore yelped in panic and leaped behind a marble column, his face shocked and frightened. But he quickly found out that no one was bothering with him.

  Josh Long pushed his way past a startled doorman and strode toward the couple near the elevator, his face livid with anger and his eyes flashing dangerously. Behind him, also pushing past the doorman, came his obviously worried lieutenants, Rafferty and Lucas, both clearly bent on stopping their employer from doing something rash.

  Travers never moved, but Raven felt him stiffen as Josh neared, not relaxing even when the other two men caught Josh in firm hands and halted his headlong rush.

  “It’ll look more impressive,” Hagen had said, “if it takes both of them to hold you. Not him, though.” A nod toward Zach. “Overkill. He could hold back an army.”

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Travers offered in a civilized tone, for all the world as if they had encountered each other at a social function.

  “Get your hands off her!” Josh sent him a look that should have nailed him to the wall. “You bastard,” he said hoarsely. “Everything you touch turns to slime. But not her.” He shifted his gaze to Raven, and his tone pleaded with the rough, rusty sound of a man who never had to plead for anything. “Raven, don’t let him do this to you. It’s not too late to get away from him.”

  She looked at him in faint amusement, the perfect image of a woman who seduced—bu
t was never seduced herself. “Don’t be ridiculous, Josh,” she said gently.

  Josh made a wrenching attempt to free himself, ignoring the urgent mutters of Rafferty and Lucas. “Raven …” It was almost a groan. “Please! He’ll turn you into something ugly, something vile—”

  “I told you in New York, Josh.” She was still gentle. “I told you not to follow me. I’d rather be my own woman than just an ornament on any man’s arm.”

  “Dammit, you know I don’t—I want to marry you!”

  Her eyes went suddenly cold and hard, and her voice was filled with scorn. “You want to own me, the way you own hotels and corporations and the two men trying to keep you from making a fool of yourself.”

  “Raven!”

  “Get him out of here,” she advised his men coolly, expressionless again. “And try to keep him out of my sight from now on.”

  “Josh, come on.” Rafferty and Lucas struggled against the distraught man’s nearly overpowering strength, and finally managed to hustle their friend out the door.

  “Raven!” The final cry was despairing, defeated. A magnificent performance.

  From behind his column, Theodore said blankly, “Well, for God’s sake.”

  Smoothly, as if nothing had happened, Leon said merely, “Tomorrow, Theodore,” and escorted Raven out through the front doors and to his limo.

  Once they were in the car and on their way to a restaurant, he murmured, “Joshua Long. He seems obsessed with you, my dear. Does he know—?”

  Raven uttered a low laugh that would have shamed uncaring ice. “Do you imagine he’d become involved with any woman without checking into her background? Certainly he knows what I—do for a living. I believe the poor man’s appalled at himself. But he’s too accustomed to molding his empire; he wishes to reform me, if you please. Obviously, he believes you to be a bad influence on me. The fool.”

  “Ah.” From the dimness of the limo, Travers said somewhat dryly, “They say that many a bad woman has been a good man’s downfall.”

  A gambler by nature, Raven took a chance and retorted indifferently, “I believe the opposite is more commonly true.”

  “Very likely, my dear.” His voice was indifferent as well. “Very likely. Shall we return to that Italian place you enjoyed so much?”

  “Whew!” Rafferty shook his numbed hand and sent a reproachful look at Josh. “Did you have to twist like that? I think my wrist is sprained.”

  They were sitting in a darkened car near Travers’s apartment building, and even though Josh was still too worried to feel humorous, he grinned faintly as he lit a cigarette. “Sorry about that. Had to make it look good.”

  “We know,” Lucas remarked from the backseat. “But you don’t know your own strength. Hagen should have sent Zach after all.”

  “And speaking of our security chief,” Rafferty said, “shouldn’t we be getting back to ease his worried mind? We’ve rung down the curtain on our little drama.”

  Bracing himself for their reaction, Josh said, “You two go on back. I’m staying.”

  “What?” Rafferty’s voice was faint.

  The red glow of Josh’s cigarette brightened as he drew on it strongly. “I said I’m staying. I’m going in the back entrance, and I’ll be in the penthouse when Raven gets home.”

  Lucas leaned forward to peer into the front seat. “Josh, you know Hagen told us none too politely to keep our paws out of this from now on.”

  Politely, Josh offered a rude message for Hagen in basic Anglo-Saxon language.

  “No,” Lucas said with a sigh, leaning back. “I won’t tell him that. Fire me, if you like.”

  “Me too,” Rafferty chimed in.

  The moment Raven entered the penthouse, she knew Josh was there. It was not her training or experience that told her of his presence, or even her exceptionally alert senses. She simply knew. Quickly, she dropped her purse on the table beside the silk flowers and turned on the tape player. And she had taken no more than half a dozen steps across the deep white carpet, when he came silently out of her bedroom.

  “You took a chance,” she said. “Leon might have come in with me.”

  “That’s why I was in the bedroom.” He glanced toward the player, then lifted a questioning brow.

  “There’s a bug in those flowers,” she explained, trying to keep her voice steady. “The player jams it.”

  “Any more bugs in here?” He was moving toward her, unable to keep his eyes off the stunning picture she made in a lime green silk sheath that glimmered in the faint lamplight and made her eyes a mysterious shade that was nearly green.

  He had almost forgotten his role hours earlier because of how lovely she looked.

  “No.” She cleared her throat, discovering that it didn’t help the huskiness of her voice. “I check every day.”

  “I was careful,” he told her, halting an arm’s length away to gaze down at her. “I know more than I want to about covert operations and the like; I didn’t make a sound until you came in. But I couldn’t stay away.” He took her hand, looking down at the slim, ringless fingers, then led her to the couch and pulled her gently down beside him. “Did Travers buy it?”

  “Yes, I’m almost sure he did.”

  “Almost,” Josh noted bleakly. “You can never be sure of anything in your work, can you?”

  “I’m sure of myself.” Her voice was steady, though still husky. “I have to be. I spend so much time building an image of myself for other people to believe that I’d get lost if I weren’t sure of who I really am.”

  Josh leaned back, still holding her hand, looking at her. “Tell me about Raven,” he murmured. “Tell me about the life that shaped such a remarkable woman.”

  Raven looked down at their clasped hands for a moment, watching his thumb brush over hers again and again, almost a compulsive movement, and she was very conscious of the intimacy between them. The quiet apartment. The darkness of night outside. The feeling that they had locked out danger for a while. Returning her gaze to his, she had to swallow suddenly, because she had never seen such a look in a man’s eyes before.

  “It’s … an ordinary life, most of it,” she answered at last. “I’m a service brat; Pop was career army, stationed all over the world. I had an aptitude for languages—or maybe it was just exposure. I picked up half a dozen languages by the time I was sixteen. Tara was my older sister. We were close.”

  His hand tightened on hers, and Raven shook off the dark thoughts. She managed a laugh. “My name isn’t Anderson, by the way. It’s O’Malley. I stick with my first name as often as I can; it makes things simpler.”

  Josh, even though he was conscious of the danger surrounding her and aware of the urge to grab what he could because there very well might be no tomorrow for them, kept an iron rein on the demands of his desire. He had seen shadows in her eyes whenever she remembered her sister, but he didn’t have to be told this lovely woman had seen too much these last years to have escaped being scarred by other things.

  Thinking of that, he said quietly, “You’ve given up a great deal for your work. A personal life. Even a secure identity. Friends who know who you are. A home. Or is there a home you go back to?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. My parents live in Seattle, but they don’t know what I’m doing; I didn’t want to worry them. I had an apartment at first, but it hardly seemed worth the bother. I was rarely in it. Hagen’s team is a small one, so we’re all—well, utilized pretty frequently. I’m out of the country more often than in.”

  “The other apartment,” Josh said slowly. “Does it really belong to friends?”

  Her smile was brief, mirthless. “No. The manager thinks so, of course; I had all the proper authorization. The tenants went through a reputable agency to sublet; they have no idea that their apartment is being used as a safe house. But I need that. I need a secure place to unwind.”

  Josh was very still. His own life had been unusual, his childhood made hideous by his mother’s death and the clo
ak-and-dagger threats of Stuart’s top-secret work. And even though he’d grown up largely away from that, the wealth he’d inherited at an early age had made him something apart from other children and, later, other men. Even though he knew close friendship with the three men who were far more than employees, he also knew the loneliness of being different.

  And Raven’s unconsciously stark words told him as nothing else could that she, too, was different from other women. For years she had balanced dangerously between two worlds, snatching a moment here and there for a breath drawn without tension. Assuming roles with an expertise any Hollywood actress would have envied, and maintaining those deadly roles in the face of unspeakable pressures. She might be a woman who had learned ruthless methods of protecting and defending herself, yet she could still smile at a man with laughter in her eyes.

  Josh shook his head half-consciously, unable to tear his gaze away from those incredible violet eyes. She could have had the world, he thought dimly, could have accomplished anything she had wanted, reached any pinnacle. But she had turned her back on personal goals, choosing to walk the dark side of the street and use her talents in fighting back that darkness.

  “You make me feel ashamed,” he said huskily. “Everything that I have … and I’ve done so little. When I’m asked to help, I do. But I wait to be asked. You never have.”

  Raven was shaken. “Josh, so many people depend on you. So many have good jobs and earn good money because you care enough to be fair.” Her laugh was unsteady. “I’ve seen your file, remember? Endowments for hospitals and universities, support for orphanages, endless programs designed by you and your companies to help people. You think that doesn’t matter? Well, it does. It matters a helluva lot. You do so much. Your companies devoted over half their profits last year to helping people.”