"Good afternoon, Mrs. Marston," I said as I entered the Georgetown foyer. Even though it was Saturday, the Agency's inimitable receptionist was on duty. I climbed the stairs to the Q-Bureau, wondering if the woman ever took a day off. Surely she had an existence outside the Agency's walls . . . hopes, dreams, a private life of her own. Did that stodgy exterior hide a passionate, vibrant woman . . . a woman with a best friend, a lover, a husband? I smiled. People no doubt wondered the same thing about me.
A good night's sleep had done wonders for my mood, and, in the sunny light of day, I felt guilty for tracking my husband last night as if he was some kind of suspect. Whatever he was up to, he deserved a chance to explain. And as I walked down the short hall to our office, I steeled myself to confess my own part in last night's escapade.
I was about to turn the doorknob when his angry voice stopped me. "Goddammit, I know what's at stake as well as you do," he all but shouted, resentment and something else bristling beneath the clipped words. "Crum's made that all perfectly clear.
When no response was forthcoming, I surmised he was talking on the phone. Though I'd just vowed to stop my spying, something held me in place. He was my partner as well as my husband. And I certainly couldn't help him unless I knew what was going on.
"Yes, you were right, I'll admit it," Lee continued, his voice now more sad than angry. "Waiting was a mistake, I realize that now. Last night proved that . . . Yes, you don't have to tell me that either, Gloria."
A bolt of jealousy shot through me; it was the same woman from the bar.
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Yes, I'll tell her. The sooner the better."
Whatever Gloria said next must have been amusing, because I heard him laugh. His sudden shift in mood made me feel even more off-balance. "Me, too," he told her, with what I could only imagine to be a spectacular smile on his face. "Talk to you later."
At least it sounded as if he'd finally decided to let me in on whatever was going on. Forcing myself to walk through the door, I greeted Lee with a light-heartedness I didn't feel.
"Amanda!" He seemed more shocked than pleased to see me. His face turned a pastier shade of white as he added, "I didn't, uh, think you were coming in today."
"Why," I responded in what I hoped what a teasing tone. "Do you think you have a monopoly on working weekends?" When he didn't answer, I perched on the edge of his desk. "Joe picked up the boys early for their trip to King's Dominion," I explained. "And since Mother was rushing around getting ready to go to New York, I thought I'd get out of the line of fire and get the ball rolling on that security review for Capital Aerodynamics."
Well, that was partly true, anyway. We were scheduled to conduct their annual review next week and the preliminary paperwork did need to filed—just not today.
Lee's face scrunched into a frown as he stroked the tips of his fingers through his hair. "Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten about that," he said, sounding mildly annoyed.
"It's not a big deal," I assured him as he pushed out of his chair and began to pace. "Capital is a great outfit, and I don't anticipate we'll have any problems with—"
"I know, Amanda. I did their preliminary review."
"Then there's nothing to worry about," I said, with a smile. When he ignored the compliment, I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "I overheard you on the phone, Lee." My voice faltered. "Whatever's going on, please—let me help you."
Unable to speak, he licked his lips and nodded. "I've wanted to talk to you about something for a while now," he said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "But I just . . . well, I just didn't know how. I guess . . . I guess now is as good a time as any, though." He let out a long breath as he added, "This is so hard."
I crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, whatever's bothering you, just tell me. We'll deal with it together, pal."
For some reason, the use of that tender nickname caused a wince instead of a smile. "Look, why don't we sit down." He avoided my eyes as he led me over to the couch. After we'd settled comfortably against the well-worn leather cushions, he tried again. "I guess you've noticed that I've been a little preoccupied lately."
I couldn't help but smile at the understatement. "I think it's safe to say that you haven't exactly been yourself."
He looked away. "No, Amanda, you're wrong. I've probably been more like myself than I have in a long, long time."
He took another deep breath. What the heck he was having such a hard time verbalizing? True, sharing his feelings had never been Lee's strong suit, but he was taking reticence to a new level. This couldn't have anything to do with his new friend, Gloria . . . could it?
"I don't know how else to say this except to come right out with it," Lee said suddenly. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and . . . and I can't . . . well, I just can't do this anymore."
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. "Do what anymore, Lee? You're not making any sense."
My husband ran his finger along the arm of the couch. "Maybe if there had been a little more time, we wouldn't have made this mistake. But everything seemed to happen so fast . . ."
My unease turned into alarm. "Lee . . ."
He talked on, the words now tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. "And when that bastard Birol held you captive, I . . . well, I went a little crazy, I guess."
"What has Addi Birol got to do with this?" My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow.
Lee closed his eyes, as if seeing something else, some other place far, far away. "I know it's not an excuse, but I felt so responsible." He sighed. "That bastard took you to get to me, because he thought . . . and when . . . when I saw you in that place . . . you'd already been through so much . . . because of me, you see . . . and, well, I really thought that we weren't going to make it out of there . . ."
"Lee." My voice came out of the back of my throat, hoarsely rasping. "What are you saying?"
He covered my hand with his larger one, the one I'd grown to rely on for strength and support. But his touch was oddly dispassionate. "I'm saying that we made a mistake, Amanda," he said, his voice soft and low. "And we need to admit it before the damage goes any further."
"A mistake?" I could barely breathe. "By working together?" I asked, hoping against hope that was what he meant.
He shook his head, his mouth curving up in a bittersweet smile. "No, you're a wonderful partner. Intuitive, quick thinking . . . what Harry Thornton used to call a natural." He pulled his hand from mine. "But we were foolish to pretend our relationship was more than that."
I stared at him. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I think it's pretty obvious now that we're more suited to be friends than lovers."
"You can't be serious," I said, my voice rising to a high-pitched squeal.
"I'm perfectly serious, Amanda." As if unable to sit close to me any longer, he rose from the couch and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. "I keep thinking about what we could have done differently and all I can come up with is . . . well, maybe if we hadn't waited to be intimate, we would have discovered all this sooner rather than later."
I sucked in a sharp breath. "Discovered all what sooner?"
"That we really are sexually incompatible."
"Sexually incompatible?" I managed to choke out. I felt as if I'd been slammed hard against the ground, the wind knocked out of me.
Lee paused to look at me. "You know what I'm talking about, Amanda. You may not want to admit it, but you've sensed it, too. You told me how much you worried about our different levels of experience. As much as I hate to say it, you were right. I've tried to convince myself that it didn't matter, but . . . well, I was lying to myself."
I rose stiffly from the couch. "And were you lying to me, too, Lee? Every time you told me how much you wanted to make love to me?"
He shook his head sadly. "That's the thing, you see. I did want to make love to you. I kept thinking that maybe this time, it would be better. You'd relax more . . . wouldn't be quite so . . . reserved. But you never . . . and then, well, you didn't seem particularly interested."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're the one who's been avoiding sex lately, not me."
"Only after I realized how you felt."
"How I felt?"
He nodded. "You kept sending me signals, putting me off. All those excuses about needing to spend more time with your mother, Phillip and Jamie . . . I'm sure you weren't even aware of it, but the message was loud and clear."
Lee continued to pace in restless circles. Yes, I could see what had happened here. My husband had obviously taken temporary leave of his senses. Or maybe he was experiencing one of those premature mid-life crises they were always discussing on my mother's favorite talk shows. Too much stress and the mind just blew . . . yes, that was the only explanation. Still, my voice shook as I replied to him.
"Okay, Lee. Suppose for a minute that everything you say is true . . . I mean, we'll forget the fact that I spent the first two months of our marriage recovering from a near fatal gunshot wound." Anger crept into my voice despite my resolve. "Or that we have to spend most of our time pretending that we aren't husband and wife at all. If things aren't the way you . . . we . . . want them to be right now, you don't just give up and walk away. You work things out."
Lee raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you and Joe did? How many years, Amanda? How much time did you waste holding on to something that was just an illusion?"
"That's not fair! What happened with Joe doesn't have any relevance to us. Joe and I were a continent apart, for Pete's sake."
"And we aren't?" He shook his head. "Across an ocean or across town, it all comes down to the same thing. You keep saying that we knew this was going to be hard for a while, but face it—things are not going to get any better. The danger will always be there, keeping us apart, not allowing us to have anything more than a half-life . . ." He suddenly stopped and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.
A "half-life" . . . I turned the words over in my mind. Was this about our mystery marriage? That I could deal with.
"Lee," I countered in my most reasonable tone, "we don't necessarily have to keep up this charade, you know. Think about it—you're at the house all the time. My family knows we're dating. Keeping our marriage a secret may have seemed like a solution at the time, but, come on, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what we mean to each other."
"Exactly my point. We were kidding ourselves, Amanda. It's too dangerous for us to be together. Dangerous for you, for your family . . ." Lee let out a long breath. "We just never should have let things get this far, that's all."
"Lee . . ."
"I mean, if things had worked out differently between us, then maybe . . ."
My hands clenched into fists. "You mean if I was good enough in bed, then it would be worth the risk," I spat out. "Damn it, Lee! You asked me to be your wife, not your one night stand. You held my hands in that cell when I didn't think there was anything left to live for and said I was the best . . ." My hands flew to my mouth as understanding dawned.
He walked over to the window. "Yeah, I know. I didn't plan to propose like that—it just kind of happened."
"So you asked me to marry you because you thought you wouldn't have to follow through on it," I whispered roughly. "How inconvenient it must have been for you when we actually survived."
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I was glad you were okay." There was a slight tremor in his voice as he added, "I never want anything to happen to you, especially not because of me."
"I don't think I'm the one who's being ridiculous here," I said, my words barely audible. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you don't love me? I'm not a fool, Lee, even if you happen to think I am."
His face softened as he turned to me. "You're right. I do love you, Amanda. I'm always gonna love you. But we shouldn't—well, we shouldn't be married, that's all. It took some time, but I realize that now."
I felt sick to my stomach. His words sounded remarkably similar to the way I described my feelings for my ex-husband, Joe King. But this wasn't the same thing at all. I would never believe that Lee Stetson was not in love with me. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my chest and forced myself to listen to him.
"I don't know how you want to handle things from here," Lee was saying.
"Handle what things?" I could barely get the words out.
"I know working together might be a little hard for a while. If you want, I'll talk to Billy, fix things so that you can stay in the Q-Bureau. Normally, the senior agent in a dissolving partnership has the right of first refusal on a transfer, but in this case . . ."
"Dissolving partnership . . ." I'd had just about enough of this. "Is that how you intend to look at our marriage, too? Tell me, Lee, who's the senior agent there, huh?"
"Amanda . . ." He chewed on his lower lip. "I can see you're upset—"
"Well that's damned perceptive of you, Scarecrow."
"It's pointless to discuss the details of this any further right now." He glanced at his watch. "Besides, I have a meeting in a few minutes."
"Your good friend Gloria, no doubt."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but his frown told me that he hadn't expected me to bring her up.
"I'm sure you remember her—the contact you had drinks with last night? Tell me, is she the one taking care of all those needs I seem to be incapable of fulfilling?"
His eyes darkened, then took on an air of ineffable sadness. Slowly he closed the distance between us and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You may not realize it now, but in time you'll come to see things the way I do. If we stay together, we'll only end up hurting each other more than we already have. The rest of the family, too. It's better this way. It's not what I want," he continued when I remained silent, "but it's the only choice that makes sense. Please believe that."
I shook off his hand. "I don't think you know what you want, Lee," I returned, trying to salvage what was left of my pride. Then I turned and walked out the door.