Quinn - Iris Johansen [75]
“You are sick. Eve says you’re insane. She says you admitted it yourself.”
“I did.” He poured the hot water into the cup. “But it appears to come and go. Isn’t that convenient? But all the more dangerous for anyone who might trust me in my saner moments.” His voice was bitter with self-mockery. “I’m like a mad dog that should be put out of his misery. I tried to do it myself. But she wouldn’t have it.”
“Eve?”
“No, Bonnie.” He brought the cup to Catherine and knelt beside her. “Or maybe that was a delusion, too. Self-preservation is a powerful thing.”
“I don’t care about your delusions. But your sense of self-preservation doesn’t appear to be too well developed. You were skipping around on that slope like the madman you claim to be. You must have known I’d have a clear shot.”
“But you didn’t take it.” He smiled. “I was disappointed. But then providence took a hand.” He looked down at her. “Are you strong enough yet to take this coffee cup, or should I help you?”
She was still too weak, but she was tempted to take it anyway. She needed the caffeine in her system. But she would probably spill it all over herself, and that would put her at still greater disadvantages with him. “I don’t want it.”
“And that means you’re not strong enough yet.” He put his arm under her shoulders and lifted her to a half-sitting position. “You have a choice of spitting it back in my face or drinking it and getting a bit closer to your usual fighting weight. It’s up to you.” He brought the cup to her lips. “I think I know which you’ll choose. You may be pissed off at me for taking you out, but you’re too professional not to prepare for our next battle.”
She hesitated only for an instant before opening her lips.
“Ah, that’s right.” He tilted the cup, and the hot liquid poured into her mouth. “You’re being totally intelligent.” He took the cup away. “Just what I’d expect of you.”
She was cradled in his arm, and he was so close she could smell the earthy scent of him and feel the heat of his body against her own. It was … disturbing.
His gaze was narrowed on her face. “What are you thinking?”
She met his gaze. “That you stink as much as I do.”
Surprise flickered across his face. Then he chuckled. “I like the way you smell. It’s … basic. I’m sorry the feeling isn’t mutual.”
It was mutual, she realized. But it shouldn’t have been. Or maybe it was because of the almost barbaric interaction between them of the past days. “I prefer a higher plane to basic.”
“I know. You would never have chanced taking that bath in the lake if it wasn’t important to you.”
Her gaze flew to his face. Dammit, she had known he was there.
He nodded. “But I had only a glimpse before you took flight like a frightened swan. Your instincts are too damn good.” He lifted the cup to her lips again. “Who is Hu Chang?”
“I told you, my friend.”
“A very skilled friend. Was he also your lover?”
“No.”
He gave another sip of coffee. “A father figure?”
“No. Hu Chang is old enough to be my grandfather. Not that it would make any difference. Age is nothing.”
He held the cup steady as he gave her the last of the coffee. “That’s right, I remember that when I was reading the dossier on you that you married your CIA partner and he was sixty-two to your seventeen. Not exactly a marriage of equals.”
“No, he was a better agent than I was.”
“At first.”
She was silent, then said grudgingly, “At first.”
“You didn’t want to admit that, but you were too honest to lie.” He smiled. “But that wasn’t the playing field I was talking about.”
How had they come to be talking about her private life when it had started