“All right. You’ll have to go to America with him,” Michael said. “You can be his private nurse.”
“What?” she gasped, stunned. She worked here. In Dublin. She always had.
“I…don’t want to go to America. There’s plenty of work for me here, and I don’t have a passport. I don’t even have any nursing credentials.”
Michael waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of everything you need.” He reached into a nearby bookcase, grabbed a huge volume and tossed it to her.
“What’s that?”
“A nursing manual. Start studying.”
“But—”
“Start studying. You’re going to America. Remember, there are rules in the Agency, and I’m in charge.”
She knew there was resentment in her eyes.
“What’s your problem with America?” he asked her, aggravated.
What was her problem?
She inhaled. She didn’t know. Maybe it was…
The man.
The man with the sea-colored eyes. He would be going to America with them.
Something about his stare unnerved her, even in a photograph. She couldn’t imagine facing it in real life.
He would find her out.
She told herself not to be ridiculous.
Besides, hadn’t Sean just said that he was coming here?
So she was going to have to face those eyes no matter what.
Michael must have thought her silence meant she was still objecting to his order. “Caer, you are going,” he said with patience—and authority.
She forced a smile. “Can’t wait,” she told him.
“Caer,” Michael said softly, “something’s wrong. Someone is after his life. This is serious.”
“I know,” she replied, her voice equally quiet.
Resigned. No, not resigned. She just didn’t have a choice. Michael really did call the shots.
“Hey, it’s the Christmas season, and the Americans go all out to celebrate,” he told her.
Michael would know. He had been just about everywhere.
“Yeah, great. Ho, ho, ho,” she said.
“Go on, I have arrangements to make,” he told her.
“Sure. I have some affairs left to handle here, as well,” she told him tightly, as she walked to the door.
“Routine,” he said.
“Routine does not negate the importance of any assignment,” she said, and glanced at her watch. She had a matter to handle now that she considered just as important as any other.
Even Sean, no matter how much she liked the man.
“Caer,” Michael said, as she turned to leave.
She paused at the door, her back to him. “Yes, sir?”
“Don’t forget the nursing book. There’s an envelope there, as well.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll want to go shopping for your trip, after all,” he said.
“You can just bet I’ll shop.”
He appeared amused rather than threatened by her words. “Do your worst. Or your best,” he told her. “This could be a great vacation for you, if you just look at it that way. Oh, and Merry Christmas,” he said pleasantly.
She went back for the book and her travel allowance. With one last evil glare at him, she left the office, closing the door behind her.
America.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Sean O’Riley was in danger, and she had to find out why, and from whom. And she had to stop whoever it was from causing him any further harm.
As she moved away from the door, she realized that the soft music playing in the hallway was a Christmas melody.
It was almost Christmas, and she was being forced to leave.
To go far across the Atlantic.
To find a would-be killer.
And the man with the extraordinary eyes would be there—just as he would soon be here. And she was afraid, she realized.
Afraid of being found out.
No, she told herself. It would never happen. Michael would never let it happen.
She took a deep breath. She was going to be a nurse in Rhode Island, and that was that.
It would be fun, she told herself. This was the holiday season, and she was going to spend it in America.
Oh, yeah. Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas.
She glanced at her watch again and knew that she had to hurry or she would be late for her other assignment.
And there really was no such thing as being late.
It simply wasn’t accepted.
Not for this assignment.
3
Zach stared thoughtfully out the window as he felt the plane’s landing gear slip into place. Dublin. He hadn’t been here in a long time, but it was a city he loved, where the old mingled with the new, and history, some of it painful and all of it a lesson in the ways of man, seemed to be waiting around every corner. But there was one thing he especially adored about this capital city of the Irish Republic. The music. He’d encountered some of the most melodic voices he had ever heard in the Dublin pubs. There was real heart in Irish music, heart and passion. What could be wrong with coming to a city where he was guaranteed a good pint and fine music?
Nothing.