The Equalisers: A Soldier's Oath. Debra Webb
brutal.
As Anders approached her, she decided making a quick trip to the ladies’ room before the real-estate agent arrived might be in order.
The sign for the restrooms as well as the elevators held a prominent position on the wall well behind and beyond the reception desk that dominated the front of the lobby.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
He glanced around the deserted lobby. “I’d feel better seeing you to the door.”
There was no need to be embarrassed. He was right.
“Whatever you think is best.” She headed for the designated corridor.
He stayed in step right beside her. When she reached the door, he hesitated. “Maybe I should check it out first.”
“Anders, I’ll be fine.” She looked back in the direction they’d come. “You should wait for your appointment. You’ll still be able to see this door from the waiting area.”
He glanced back to confirm her assertion. “All right.” That intense gaze landed back on hers. “But make it fast. I won’t relax until you’re back in my line of vision.”
She pushed through the door, leaving him staring after her.
For a couple of moments she stood on the other side of the door wondering if he’d walked back to the waiting area or if he’d opted to hang around until she emerged once more.
She didn’t remember the last time anyone had worried so about her. That he did it with such care made her feel warm inside.
Shaking her head at just how pathetic she was, Willow moved toward the stalls. The restroom was pretty much like one found back home. The American influence in Kuwait couldn’t be ignored even when it came to toilets.
When she’d relieved herself and washed up, she considered her reflection a moment. At twenty-eight she still looked young, but she felt old inside. She’d stopped feeling young and vibrant ages ago.
Willow tugged the scarf from her hair and ran her fingers through the long, blond length. She’d thought about cutting it several times, but something always got in the way. Or maybe she was afraid to change much of anything for fear her baby wouldn’t recognize her.
Would he even remember her?
Pain arced sharply inside her. What would she do if he didn’t? He would cry for his father… people would notice. How could they hope to get through customs and back on a plane if her child screamed the entire time?
What if attempting to steal him was a mistake?
Willow closed her eyes and fought back the emotions churning wildly inside her.
She was doing the right thing.
She knew it. She believed it with her whole heart.
Faith. Where was her faith?
Anders was waiting for her. The real-estate agent might have arrived already. She shouldn’t be in here worrying about an issue that hadn’t come up yet.
Taking extra care, she wrapped the khimar around her hair and neck. A few blond strands peeked past the scarf, a vivid contrast to the black silk. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips red from biting and licking them repeatedly. She needed Chap Stick.
No, what she needed was to relax.
Stay calm.
Get this done.
Summoning her wayward courage she moved to the door and pulled it open. Anders still waited near the potted palms and seating area. Evidently the other man hadn’t arrived yet.
With a deep breath she emerged into the lobby and headed straight for Anders. He watched her from the moment she stepped beyond the door. That he continued to look directly at her when she stopped in front of him made her a little giddy.
Dumb. So dumb.
What was wrong with her?
She was going way overboard with this whole big-strong-protector thing. Yes, he was supposed to protect her, but that was his job. It wasn’t like he was doing it because he was attracted to her or had some vested personal interest in her. Other than the case.
“He should be here any minute now.”
The moment felt oddly awkward. “Good.”
He looked away then, as if he felt the awkwardness too.
She stared at the floor, the plants, pretty much anything but him. Then she busied herself watching the man behind the reception desk answer the phone.
No matter that she wasn’t looking at Anders. No matter that he probably wasn’t even looking at her, she could feel him. It wasn’t that general awareness of someone’s presence… this was a pull of some sort. A feeling of nearness that overwhelmed all else.
She closed her eyes and fought the vertigo effect the unexpected sensations had on her. Jet lag, she told herself. Her emotions were oversensitive. That was all it could be. Sleep deprivation played tricks on one’s mind. She knew this firsthand.
There was no reason to let this silly reaction get out of hand. She opened her eyes and surveyed the lobby in every direction except the one in which he stood. She wished the real estate man would hurry.
“You seem nervous.”
The deep, husky quality of his voice shouldn’t have made her shiver, but it did. Dammit.
Frustration surged. “I’m fine.” She flashed him a glance that relayed that frustration. “I just want this part over with.”
“I understand.”
The empathy in his eyes backed up his words. Why did he have to do that? She needed him to be that unyielding, distant man she’d met that first night.
“How could you?”
He flinched as if the words had stung somehow.
She refused to feel bad about it.
“You’re right. I can’t imagine how this must feel.”
Why hadn’t he stopped at You’re right?
Movement at the front entrance dragged her attention there in hopes that the real-estate agent had arrived and they could get past this strained moment.
“Is that him?” she asked, hoping to avert his focus from her.
Anders turned to look at the man who’d walked up to the reception desk.
She watched as well. Something about the way the man signed the guest registry was vaguely and strangely familiar to her.
Willow stared hard at the man as he placed the pen on the desk and chatted with the clerk. The way he handled his briefcase… his mannerisms as he spoke… Somehow she recognized his body language.
She studied his profile as he produced identification for the clerk as Anders had been required to do. Then he withdrew a cell phone from his jacket pocket as if he’d received a call. He turned his back briefly to take the call.
The way the man moved… the profile…
“Oh, God.”
Anders wheeled toward her, searched her face. “What’s wrong?”
Fear exploded in her chest.
Impossible.
She had to be wrong.
But she wasn’t.
“I know that man.”
Chapter Eight
Spencer knew his first moment of sheer panic.
It was a wholly unfamiliar sensation.
He kicked it