Ice Blue - Anne Stuart [75]
He was insane. Out of his fucking mind, and she had no idea. He’d prefer to keep it that way. He just needed a little space to put his head back together again. Once he got away from her, he’d forget all about her.
And that moment couldn’t come a second too soon for her. He could see the iron tension in her body, her averted profile, the stubborn set to her mouth. He’d never had the chance to really appreciate her mouth and what it could do. At least he could be thankful for small favors.
The plan was all set. Madame Lambert would take Summer and her sister to England, stash them with Peter and his wife, while Taka headed in the opposite direction, to Japan. To place the goddamn urn into the hands of the Japanese government, through the kindly services of his great-uncle Hiro. That would stop the Shirosama’s forward momentum, give them enough time to find the site of the temple and destroy whatever was left there. Give them time to find where the cache of weapons was, the biological and chemical plagues that the brethren’s Ministry of Science had been compiling. Time enough to save the world.
He could only hope Madame Lambert would dispense some of those drugs that were so effective in wiping out unpleasant memories to her. Summer didn’t need to know she’d ever seen him, and if, in the future, she was illogically repulsed by Asian men, she’d never guess why.
There were enough flights leaving Sea-Tac at the crack of dawn to make the traffic heavy, enough police that he slowed down to the legal speed limit. Taka could have waved one of his many aliases in front of any cop and gotten away with a disapproving look, but there was no need to complicate matters. Though he no longer worried about Summer saying anything. She wouldn’t do a thing that would keep her in his company a moment longer than necessary. She wanted her sister, she wanted to get away from him, she wanted safety and quiet, and Isobel Lambert would present just the right sort of no-nonsense presence. He imagined his boss could put on a maternal front if she wanted to; she could do just about anything.
Summer and her sister would be safe, secure and eventually happy. And he would stop thinking about her the moment he turned his back and walked away. He had become very good at walking away from things, people.
She didn’t say a word when he pulled into the underground parking garage reserved for VIPs, and she followed him out of the car. In the bright artificial light of the garage she looked washed out. She had a smudge of dirt across her cheekbone, and he raised a hand for a moment to brush it away, then dropped it. He wasn’t going to touch her again unless he had to.
“Don’t look so woebegone,” he said under his breath. “You’re about to escape me. This should be the happiest day of your life.”
She didn’t rise to the bait. It would have been easier if she sniped at him, but all the fight seemed to have gone out of her. She’d won—Madame Lambert hadn’t voiced any objection when he’d told her flat out during their last communiqué that he wasn’t going to kill Summer. Just another few minutes and he could walk away.
He took her arm as they walked into the lower level of the terminal, and after an initial start she didn’t try to pull away, instead letting him lead her through the almost empty corridors, up into the busier sections. She remained quiet when he took her through the security gate reserved for workers, and after one glance at his ID none of the TSA workers said a word, ignoring her and waving them through. She kept up with him, mute and seemingly miserable, and he thought he could probably let go of her arm.
But he didn’t. He wanted to touch her, sick bastard that he was. Until the last possible moment, he wanted to hold on to her.
They reached gate 11. The man Isobel Lambert had arranged for, Crosby, was waiting for them, dressed in the uniform of a maintenance worker, cap pulled low on his head, pushing a bucket and mop. Taka could just imagine what kind of