The Midnight Hour - Brenda Jackson [32]
"Good-bye, Tori." He took a step back and turned to leave, and then he swung back around and pulled her to him and captured her mouth hungrily, almost violently, as if he intended for her taste to be his good-luck charm. The unexpectedness of his kiss sent every sense within her skyrocketing.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he whispered the words, "Until we meet again," in her ear before finally walking out of the cabin without looking back.
Knowing they would never meet again, Tori couldn't contain her tears. She made it to the bed and flung herself across it, crying in earnest. Even through the passing of time, their forced separation, the trauma that had ripped them apart, she still loved him with a love that she knew would last forever. She thanked God for this special time that she was able to spend with Drake and prayed that he be
kept safe.
By the time she was able to pull herself together, she glanced over at the clock near the bed. It was and the man she loved was lost to her forever once again.
CHAPTER 4
Two months later
"Welcome back," Lucille said with a smile as she rose from her chair.
Drake had just stepped off the elevator and took a deep, calming breath. He was glad to see a familiar face and the woman who was Hawk's assistant was just that. Unlike a lot of other people at the Agency, she had ignored his bark and over the years had gone above and beyond in tolerating his often-foul moods.
She rounded the desk and clasped her hand in his. Lucille was more than a mere assistant to the CIA director, she was often the lifeline to the agents as well. Short and buxom, in her early sixties with a head of gray hair and caring dark eyes, she easily reminded you of someone's grandmother. She had worked for the Agency well over forty years and was someone everyone depended on for everything from smoothing out ruffled feathers between agents and their bosses, to expertly editing the reports agents turned in at the end of an assignment, while threatening to give them a crash-course writing class.
"Before you go into Casey's office, Drake, I want to know how things went. I see the assignment was completed ahead of time. Are you okay?"
Another thing the agents liked about Lucille was that she genuinely cared about their well-being. "Yeah, we did what we were sent to do in less time than expected. We were able to drive Santiago and his rebels back into the hills at least for a while."
"And what about you personally? How are you?"
Drake couldn't stop the smile that stole into his roughened features. From the first time he had gotten off the elevator at Diamond Bay to take his first assignment, Lucille had gone out of her way to be more than kind to him, and for that he'd developed a soft spot for her. Like others, she had heard that he was the new agent, a former Marine Recon, who was suffering and grieving for the woman he'd loved and had lost on a mission. She had been able to read his wariness, his anger, and had known the times he had needed to lash out, be left alone and be handled carefully. And she had done all those things with loving-kindness.
But then on the flip side, Lucille expected respect and the one thing she would not put up with from any agent was a foul mouth and like some agents, he had a tendency to be rather colorful with his words at times, which Lucille would not tolerate. So everyone knew to be on your best behavior and to watch your mouth around her or run the risk of getting your ears boxed.
"So, Lucille, are you still sneaking off to the break room every day around lunchtime to watch your favorite soaps?" he asked, knowing