Page 8

PART V

He woke up to a very stern looking woman staring at him through the bedroom window.

She looked like she might want to carve him up with a sharp fillet knife and he lifted his hand off of Heather’s arm to wave at her.

The woman outside the window pursed her lips together and shook her head. Before he could tap on Heather’s shoulder to wake her up, the woman outside the window tapped at her left wrist which was bare and then lifted an invisible fork to her mouth.

TIME. EAT.

He lifted his head from the surface of the bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was time for dinner according to the schedule that he’d been given.

Mark nodded and looked down at Heather.

“Time to wake up.”

She only moved to snuggle closer against his chest.

Mark looked up toward the window, but the older woman was gone.

Mark had no reason to lie and not admit that he’d been surprised by her appearance, grumbling about it under his breath. “Why didn’t the alarm sound when she came through the gate?” He shook his head. The older woman didn’t jump over the wall, did she?

Heather groaned against his chest. “You’re tensing up.”

“I think your dinner is here.”

“Missus Fazekus came? How do you know?”

He loved the sound of her voice. It was lovely at any time of the day, but hearing the soft, dream-like quality of it when she was waking from sleep. It reminded him of hot summer days with Heather cuddled up against his chest as they sat in the shade.

“Hey. Earth to Mars.”

He felt her poke his chest and he looked down with a raised brow. “Careful. You don’t want to poke me like that.”

“Then you need to pay attention.” She wiggled a little and he loosened his hold on her. “And I’m starving now. So, you better come with me to the kitchen.”

He felt the loss of her heat and the welcome weight of her body immediately. “You think she left something in the kitchen that I need to check out? A dish that needs defusing? A roast chicken that needs dissecting?”

Laughing, she slipped off the edge of the bed and turned to look at him. “Funny. Seriously though, Missus Fazekus is an excellent cook. If you want something to eat, you need to get your butt in gear.”

He was relieved that she wasn’t outwardly upset, but he’d be damned if he brought it to her attention.

Mark slid off of the bed a step after her. “Are you saying that she might have brought dinner for me, too?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and opened the door to the hall. “I might just eat your plate if you take your time getting to the table.”

And she was off into the hall, pulling the door closed after her.

He heard her laugh as he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and twisted.

Mark only made it a few steps after her before he smelled the food in the kitchen. It was like heaven to him. The scents were rich and wholesome and reminded him of his mother’s cooking at home.

He reached the kitchen as she was washing her hands.

She wiped her hands off on paper towels from a standing roll on the counter and instead of letting her walk away, he wrapped his arms around her and trapped her between his chest and the sink counter while he washed his hands.

Heather looked up over her shoulder at him. “This is a little much.”

“You know what’s a little much?” He asked her but didn’t wait for an answer. “Missing you for all these years and finally getting close to you again.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her temple and then her cheek. “Now I have you close and I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

She sighed as if she was suffering through the experience, but she leaned back against his chest. “When you put it that way,” she turned her head and kissed his neck, “I guess I can’t argue with it.”

He turned off the water and tore off a couple of pieces of paper towel as she turned around to look up at him, her arms wrapping around his middle.

Heather looked up at him and she felt her heart jumping into her throat.

“I feel like this is just too easy.”

She tried to calm herself by moving her hands up along his back.

It was ridiculous how easy it was for her to step back into time. Touching him felt like second nature, but even though she enjoyed it, every time that she realized she was doing it, she tried to memorize every second.

There was a distinct voice in the back of her head saying that this ease she felt with Mark was like having a honeymoon moment where they were both remarkably comfortable together.

A honeymoon.

She felt her cheeks flush at the thought.

Years ago, she’d dreamed of a honeymoon with Mark. Dreamed of a marriage, life, and yes, babies.

Leaning in against him, she touched her forehead to his chest and then, when he didn’t pull away, she leaned in even more, putting her ear to his chest.

She heard his heart pounding in his chest, the rhythm pulsing against her cheek.

It was beautiful.

His heart was still strong. A pulse of life rushing through him.

Heather had wondered for years how he was doing. If he was happy.

Knowing that she was strictly prohibited from contacting him, she hadn’t even tried to look him up or search for him online.

Social media was something she wasn’t interested in. She could have used it, carefully. WITSEC had rules about it.

So many rules that she was glad she had little interest in the idea on its own. If she had been curious then, she could have followed the rules, but it was just too much. And she’d been afraid of accidentally seeing something about Mark online. If they still had the same taste in music, he might pop up in a group or a page of some sort.

If he still liked the same kinds of books or movies, what were the chances that she might stumble upon his name somewhere, or a picture.

She fought back the tears that rushed forward.

So many choices that she’d made to hide from the news that she might find online and yet, here he was, in her hideaway kitchen.

A crazy, random happenstance?

Fate?

She shook her head. No. She didn’t believe in fate.

“Hey, you’ve gone quiet again.”

She froze, holding herself still until she felt his arms tighten around her.

Heather melted into him, enjoying the feel of his strong body against her own. “I was just thinking… about the time that’s passed between us. I can’t believe that you’re not angry with me.”

“Angry?”

He smoothed his hands over her back and the sensations he created felt like heaven.

“Why would I be angry with you?”

“I wanted to see you that night at the bonfire.” She gathered her thoughts together and leaned back to look up at him. “I wanted to see you and spend some… some time with you.”

Her mind conjured up thoughts of what she’d really hoped to do with him that night. She’d taken care to wear something pretty under her clothes, hoping that he might get to see them. That he might have seen what was under them.

“What kept you?”

She knew that the question was coming, she just wasn’t sure how she’d explain all the crazy that had happened. Heather didn’t really want to bring it all up again, but she knew she’d likely have to.

He deserved to know.

“Can we… Can we sit down?”

She saw the moment he remembered that they had food on the table. He shook his head and walked her toward the table set for dinner.

“Shit. Sorry about that.”

Heather waved it off. “I’m not sure I’m all that hungry right now, but I think I need to sit down. I’ve never had to put all this into words.”

He held out her chair and she smiled as she sat down.

They’d dated before, but he hadn’t ever held out her chair before.

Oh, she didn’t blame him. Back in those days it wasn’t a thing that guys did. Not even Tanner with all of his country club dinners and fancy parties ever held out a chair for her.

This was a different side of Mark, and she wasn’t disappointed.

He moved to the other side of the table and took his seat. He looked at the meal set out on the table and stopped when he saw the bottle sitting on the side. Surprised, he reached for it and drew it closer. “You usually have wine with dinner?”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. “No. She’s never opened a bottle before.”

Mark looked at the label. “You like white wine?”

She nodded. “It’s a long way from sodas and hotdogs at the snack stand by the water.”

He nodded back. “It is, but I guess things have changed for both of us.”

Heather held out her glass and watched as he poured the wine. “What about you? Do you like wine?”

“Wine? Sure. I’m happy with a beer. Or whiskey. But I don’t mind wine with a beautiful woman.”

She had lifted the glass to her lips on autopilot, but she nearly choked on the first sip at the thought of Mark with another woman.

Heather set the glass down and lifted the lid from one of the containers. The richly spiced scent reached her nose almost immediately. Needing something to occupy herself with, she picked up a serving fork and tried to pick up a piece of pork, but it was so tender that only part of the meat stayed on the fork and made it to her plate.

“I know I said I wasn’t all that hungry, but she has so many great recipes, I’m pretty sure I’m going to put on some curves before I have another concert.”

She reached out her arm to hand him the serving fork and felt his hand close around hers.

“Look at me.”

With a soft sigh she turned and looked at him, wondering what she’d see and hear after his request. He didn’t loosen his hold on her hand, holding her gently as he looked back at her.

“When you say curves, I think you should smile. You were always beautiful to me and that won’t change.”

“I’m different now.” The words had a weight to them that she wanted to explain but didn’t know how to start.

“So am I.” He added his own words. “Is this about your scar?”

Heather tried to yank her hand away from him, but he didn’t let her go. “H…how? Did you- Did Bart tell you?” She wanted to pull away and wrap her arms around herself, but Mark had a hold on her. She turned her gaze away and toward the far wall, needing to hide from him.

How often had she avoided looking at herself in the mirror when her blouse was off?

When she bathed, she would move the cloth over her scar as quickly as possible just so it wouldn’t take up more space in her head than it already did.

“When you were asleep, the neck of your blouse opened a bit.”

Her heart squeezed tightly in her chest. “You saw it?”

She didn’t need him to answer that.

She wasn’t stupid, just hopeful that he hadn’t actually seen it.

“You were shot?”

Heather leaned back away from the food and thank goodness Mark let her go.

The once heavenly scent made her stomach twist and lurch inside of her belly.

She released the serving fork and heard the tines tick tick tick on the tabletop until it stopped moving.

She blew out her breath and lifted her chin until her gaze met his.

“It was the night of the bonfire. When I got home, I went in through an old servant’s door into the pantry. I was stopped by a federal agent who kept me back. I didn’t know it back then, but my father was going to turn into a witness for the Federal Government. He hadn’t said a thing to me, but he was really tense that last week.

“I didn’t notice it ahead of time. I just thought that he was anxious to get back and I wanted to stay until the bonfire. Alex explained later that my father wanted to turn himself over and try to get evidence at the same time. It would have been easier at the house in New York City, but he had them change plans to do it in the Hamptons.”

The wry smile that touched her lips felt like an old friend.

“I was the reason I got shot.”

“Heather-”

“No,” she shook her head, “I’m not just saying that. It’s true.” She placed her hands on the tabletop, her fingers splayed open as she took a few calming breaths. “I was the one who kept us in the Hamptons. I was the one who messed things up and came home early that night. And when I knew they were going to shoot my dad, I went running in to stop it. And that,” she let out a long breath, “was why I got shot.

“The next memory I have was waking up in a ridiculously white room of a military hospital with guards at the door. They had to airlift me to a military base while the federal officers cleaned everything up back at the house.”

“And that’s how you know Alex Marchand?”

“Alex Marchand ?”

“My boss. The man who sent me to Blackwood.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as if the sun was shining through her windshield. “The agent who got us into WITSEC all those years ago was Alex March.”

She watched as Mark’s expression changed several times.

In the past, when they’d known each other, she might have been able to reach out and take his hand to soothe his feelings.

Now she wanted to, but she wasn’t sure if he’d welcome the touch. Mark sat back in his chair looking at the food on the table as if it all made him sick to his stomach.

She kind of felt the same way.

Mark got up from his chair and started to walk away.

He stopped a few steps from the hall, turning back to look at her. “Did you ever learn to play chess?”

Heather paused for a moment.

She shook her head. “You said that you’d teach me someday.”

He nodded. “I know I did.”

“Why… Why are you asking?”

Heather saw a muscle tick in his cheek, and she felt tension building up in her shoulders.

“I’m just starting to feel like I’m a little lost. Here I was thinking that I was a knight, protecting the queen, but I’m listening to you and hearing about the wedge that was driven between us, and I just realized that I’m not a knight.

“I’m a pawn.” He let out a breath that she swore warmed the air of the room. Maybe it was just the frustration building up in both of them. “I think we both were. I… I need to think for a bit. Call out for me if you need me and I’ll be there.”

Mark walked away and into his room, just beside her own.

She sat there at the table cursing the world for what they’d lost and wondering if he knew how close she was to calling for him at that very moment, because she needed him.

She’d always needed him.

Their time apart hadn’t changed a thing about that.