Tess Gerritsen - Double Impact

For three long beats Ami wasn’t sure if Carlos was going to back down. His fingers tightened around his weapon as the face-off continued for another seemingly endless second, then he said, “You will regret this day, my friend.”

Carlos walked out of the room, not waiting for Michal to say more.

Thank God. A sob burst loose from her chest. She closed her eyes and tried hard to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. If Michal had not arrived when he had…

Strong arms suddenly scooped her up. She tried to escape, but he held her firmly against his chest. What was he going to do with her? Fear pumped through her veins once more. She stared up at Michal and tried to make her lips form the words to ask that very question, but she didn’t have the strength.

He carried her into the bathroom and settled her on her feet. She seized the opportunity to put some distance between them, moving around to the far side of the sink. She pressed against the wall, trying to make herself small and unnoticeable. Some of the panic had receded, but the fear lingered still. He planned to kill her…he’d made no bones about that. She couldn’t fathom why he’d bothered to save her from Carlos.

Unless…he wanted the honor for himself.

She shivered uncontrollably. That was it. He’d said as much. It would be his decision. He would no doubt do the deed personally.

Emotion brimmed behind her lashes as she thought again of her sweet baby and the idea that she would never see him again. Another sob wrenched from her heart.

Michal moved toward her, trapping her between the wall and his powerful body. Her fingers fisted against her sides, the urge to run or to fight so fierce she could scarcely resist the impulse to do one or the other. He growled savagely beneath his breath in that language she thought to be French. She didn’t understand the words, but he looked furious.

Her breath caught as he reached toward her.

That dark, dark gaze collided with hers. “Don’t move,” he ordered softy but, even tempered, the tone echoed with the danger that emanated from every square inch of him.

As gently as if she were an injured child, he cleaned her bleeding lip with a damp cloth, dabbing tenderly. Stunned by the act of mercy, she could only stare at him and watch the startling metamorphosis of emotions on his face. This close she could see the tiny lines that marred the smooth complexion of his skin. Lines that spoke of years of close calls with death and wielding that same power over others. The hard set to his chiseled jaw told her more about the unyielding determination he possessed than any words could have. His entire body was honed to lethal perfection. And yet the tenderness exposed in the beard-shadowed, granite-like features of that same face shifted something deep inside her.

He could kill her in an instant, but instead he was making her come.

The breath hissed past her lips. It was him that she’d been dreaming of…even before the episode in the ER with the injured Israeli man…before the startling conversation with Jack Tanner.

Michal Arad was the man she’d dreamed of making love with so often that she’d been unable to commit to Robert. The dark image that had haunted her dreams had rendered the possibility of a future with the real, flesh-and-blood man in her life impossible. Robert hadn’t had a chance, she realized ironically. He’d been competing with a ghost…

A ghost from her past.

“They all want you dead,” Michal murmured as he studiously worked to soothe the bruised skin of her throat with the cool, damp cloth. That dark, dark gaze lifted to meet hers. “What am I to do?”

Later, when she could think back on that moment, Ami couldn’t say what made her do it-some long-buried instinct or self-protective urge-but she thrust her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

She didn’t want to die.

Somehow she knew that though he appeared to have the most reason to want her dead, he was the only one who could save her.

AMI KEPT HER EYES CLOSED, feigning sleep until he left the room. At last she opened them and blinked to adjust to the pale dawn hues sifting through the wall of windows. Her gaze went immediately to the chair where he sat each night and watched her. She shoved the thin coverlet aside and sat up in the bed, the cool air easily penetrating the gossamer-thin gown she wore, making her shiver. She stared down at the silky pale pink garment, wondering what had made him give it to her last night.

He’d stayed closer than usual since the incident with Carlos two days ago. That memory sent a shudder quaking through her. She consciously set aside the other memories related to that exchange, especially the one where she’d thrown her arms around Michal and held on tightly as if he were her only anchor in violent waters. He had allowed the unexpected display for a few moments before pushing her away, his expression going instantly from tender to threatening.

No matter what she thought she saw as he’d tended the hurt Carlos had inflicted, he was still determined to have his vengeance. To make her pay for her betrayal two years ago. Ami trudged to the bathroom and took care of necessary business, including a change of clothes.

As she brushed her forever unruly hair she considered the face in the mirror. Could she really have played the part of Amira Peres as Jack Tanner had said? Was she really capable of those kinds of exploits? The dreams she’d experienced night after night the past two years seemed to indicate a past with Michal. But she couldn’t be certain. The dreams could be nothing but dreams. Just because his features were dark didn’t make him the father of her child. She trembled with something totally unrelated to fear for her life at that thought. If that were true and he ever found out about Nicholas…

She shook off the concept. For that matter Tanner could be the father. He’d insinuated that something had gone on between them while he’d trained her for the mission. His coloring was dark, as well.

Ami shook her head. Maybe Carlos was right. Maybe she had been nothing but a bought-and-paid-for whore who’d done the CIA’s bidding or anyone else’s, ultimately betraying Michal.

But he was a terrorist. Another shiver danced up her spine. The single most ruthless terrorist on the planet, Tanner had said. Somehow it didn’t fit. She had yet to see him harm another human being. Not even when Carlos over-stepped his bounds did Michal use violence to control the situation. It was true that he’d manhandled her to a degree, but he hadn’t actually hurt her. She studied the fading bruises left over from her encounter with Carlos. Now there was a man she was certain was capable of horrible violence.

Ami sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. This was all insane. She was a nurse, for Pete’s sake. A mother. She didn’t know anything about terrorists except what she saw in the news. She barely kept up with politics. How could she be this Jamie Dalton, undercover agent for the CIA, that Tanner told her about? How could she have played the part of Amira Peres and then orchestrated the murder of Yael Peres?

She shook her head. It just wasn’t possible. Of course, the coincidence that the name Ami could be derived from both Amira and Jamie wasn’t lost on her. When she’d been found wandering in that park two years ago the name Ami Donovan was all she’d known. She’d stuck by the name, insisting that, despite her inability to remember anything about her past, she was indeed Ami Donovan. The police and even the FBI had searched every data base available and found nothing on an Ami Donovan. For all intents and purposes, she simply did not exist.

“But here you are,” she argued with the weary-looking reflection. “Caught in the middle of a nightmare.”