a short nod, he rolled his broad shoulders, shifting in the seat as he followed the signs toward Chicago Midway International Airport.
She remembered the feel of those shoulders under her hands after a tough day at work when she’d help him work out the kinks...or late at night in the heat of passion. Oh, how she wanted to trust him, to be sure she could trust him. It scared her—more than being run off the road—just how much she wanted to believe in Frank Leone again.
When Frank was convinced they hadn’t been followed, he decided on a mid-priced hotel near the airport. If they didn’t take cash, he had a credit card that matched his false ID. Although Sophia probably wouldn’t have complained about the dirt-cheap place where he’d been staying, he didn’t want to risk taking her there. If the enemy was this close, anything could happen.
Besides, he couldn’t imagine the woman he loved so dearly, with her timeless sense of style, in that flea-bitten decor. The discussion ahead of him would be difficult enough without any guilt over the accommodations. He was distracted plenty by her amazing body. He’d missed her so much. She deserved the best life could offer. Whether she wanted to accept protection from him right now or not, he had to make sure she stayed safe.
Knowing his wife, he suspected their marriage was beyond salvaging. He’d never win back her trust—not in the ways that mattered most. Over three decades ago he’d marveled that the smartest, prettiest girl in the world had fallen in love with him and stuck by him through an army career that carried them around the globe. There had never been any real secrets between them until those last two years. This entire mess rested on his shoulders. All of it was his fault.
No avoiding the hard reality of truth. He could offer explanations and apologies—and he would—even knowing it wouldn’t make any difference in the long run. He’d started this journey with the best of intentions and it had backfired completely. His mistakes had already cost him the love of his life; he’d never forgive himself if his mistakes got her and their daughter hurt or killed.
Two years ago, she’d sensed the distance he had created to shelter her. Worse, he’d sensed her doubts. That unexpected result had hurt him the most. The wariness he’d seen in her eyes during their last visit, after the guilty verdict had been announced, had plagued him through every lonely day since he’d disappeared.
He parked at the back of the building and came around to open her door, taking her suitcase as she exited the SUV. Finally, he indulged himself with an up-close study of her. Sophia created a fashion statement in any circumstance. Her black sweater and perfectly tailored slacks graced her curves. The long necklace she wore shimmered against the black and he noticed she’d changed from the heels she’d worn to dinner to sleek flats. His arms ached to gather her into a hug, to hold her close and never let go. Without the heels, the top of her head would tuck perfectly under his chin. Despite the memories of how comforting that embrace would be, he managed to keep his distance.
When they were safe behind the locked door of the rented room, he breathed a little easier. If they were lucky, they would survive the night and he could get her on a plane to the tropics tomorrow. He wanted her far away from the inevitable conflict on the horizon.
He dropped her suitcase on the bed, ignoring that potential minefield, while she strolled on by and pulled a chair away from the table. He heard her fidgeting a bit, settling in while she waited for him to explain himself. He didn’t have to look to know she had her right leg crossed over her left, her hands linked in her lap.
Where to begin? He studied his hands, not quite ready to face her. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Her voice was cool, aloof, and he could feel her big brown eyes studying him. He sighed. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to his wife. On some level he believed she might understand. Too bad that level was smothered by guilt.
“Just get on with it,” she urged in the unflappable tone that had guided professional and family meetings with equal efficiency. “I want the truth. The whole truth.” She shook her head, the one visible concession to her anger and frustration. “Some sort of reasonable explanation for what you’ve done to us.”
He closed his eyes a moment, pushing a hand through hair that felt too long since he’d abandoned the shorter army regulation cut. “I doubt much of what I’m about to say will sound reasonable.”
The silence stretched between them like a high wire over the Grand Canyon, and he was walking without a net. There’d been no training or experience to prepare him for this crisis. “I did what I believed was necessary to protect you and Frankie.” He’d allowed his professional life to destroy his family. No excuses would suffice and none of the words in his mind felt adequate to the task. On a deep breath, he perched on the side of the bed closer to her chair. “It started before we moved to Washington,” he began, watching the awareness come into her lovely eyes. “Keeping you out of it was essential.”
“Because you planned to become a traitor?”
“Never.” He winced. “Though I knew it was possible my actions would look that way.”
She caught her full lower lip between her teeth. “Your daughter never believed you were capable of treason,” she said. “Unfortunately, by that time, I didn’t share her confidence.”
He deserved that for how poorly he’d handled the situation. “I wanted to explain, to reassure you.” The risks had been too great. Any out-of-character reaction from Sophia would have tipped off the criminals the army had been trying to root out. “You couldn’t have helped me. I looked at it from every angle. If I’d told you anything at all, if you’d reacted too much or not enough, if you’d changed your analysis or assessment, it would’ve gotten all three of us killed.”
“What happened?” She hurled the words at him. “Names and dates, Frank.” She leaned forward, pinned him with those wary eyes. “Give me a clear and accurate picture. Did you know Frankie believed I willfully helped convict you?”
“No!” He pushed to his feet, striding as far from her as the room allowed. He hadn’t understood why his daughter had wound up working in Savannah when Sophia launched the new business in Seattle, but he couldn’t risk getting close enough to either of them to find out. “How could she believe such a thing?”
“You can ask her yourself. Now keep talking,” she said. “Hold back now and I’ll walk right out that door and in my heart you’ll stay dead forever.”
Sophia didn’t make idle threats. If she walked out of this room without the details, without his protection, she’d be dead within the week. Frankie, too. “It’s too dangerous. Please, believe that if nothing else.”
She drummed her fingertips impatiently on her knee.
He crossed the room again, forcing himself to sit down at the table. He could slow down and do this right. “First, I’m not a traitor.” He stopped right there as the emotion choked him. He didn’t know quite how to beg her forgiveness, to uproot the terrible seeds of doubts he’d planted. “The Army Criminal Investigations Command approached me just over two years ago.” Though he knew all deals were off, his voice cracked on exposing her to the black stain that had ended his career. “Before that last deployment. Equipment had gone missing. Locals claimed army personnel were helping move drug shipments. High-value targets disappeared without a trace. While that sounds logical with the honeycomb of hideouts in Afghanistan, no rumors or sightings were getting out. CID asked me to go undercover and appear amenable to cooperating with one particular drug lord. I did what was required of me, as always.”
She gasped, her eyes wide and sad. “The CID didn’t back you up?”
“That was before the treason charge.” He knew she was thinking about the lives lost on that last busted mission. “Cooperating with the drug lord was a test to earn the trust