Chapter eighteen

November
Los Angeles

Jack leaned against the railing and watched Sydney go around the carousel. Every time she went past, she yelled, "Daddy!" and Jack waved at her. Someone came and leaned on the railing next to him but Jack paid no attention until the newcomer spoke.

"Hello, Jack."

He tensed. "Katya. It's always a pleasure."

"Daddy!" Sydney squealed as she passed him.

"Is that Sydney?"

"Yes."

After a while, Katya said, "She looks like Irina. She's got your ears, though. Poor child."

Jack finally turned to look at her. With her shaved head and punk attire, she was nothing like the image he'd carried in his mind all these months. "Trying to blend in?"

"No one looks at punks, Jack. Not in a place like Los Angeles."

They watched the carousel go around in silence, Jack ignoring Katya's curious gaze as he returned Sydney's wave.

"Aren't you going to ask about her?"

"Can I trust your answer?"

Katya brushed against him, her lips skimming his ear as she whispered, "Irina Derevko is dead."

When she was gone, he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the envelope she'd tucked inside. On the front was a date and coordinates. Inside, a typed note.

From the carousel, Sydney yelled, "Daddy! You're not watching!"

He smiled at his daughter as he crumpled the message into a ball and shoved his fists into his pockets.

The carousel slowed, but Sydney didn't wait for it to come to a complete stop before she hopped off the horse and ran to Jack. "That was so much fun, Daddy. Can I go again?"

"It's getting late, sweetheart. We should head home."

Sydney's smile faded. "There's nothing to do at home."

"Tell you what, instead of going home, why don't we eat at a restaurant tonight? How does that sound?"

"Pizza Hut?"

"But we ate there last week—"

"But it's my favourite." Sydney looked up at him with a pleading expression, one Jack was becoming all-too-familiar with, and one he could never resist. He had a strong suspicion that when Sydney tried this with Irina, she didn't get her own way half as much as she did with Jack.

He sighed. "Okay. Pizza Hut it is."

"Thank you, Daddy! I love you!" Sydney threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.

And Jack knew for certain he'd been played.

They walked to the car hand-in-hand, and Sydney asked, "Who was that strange lady?"

"What lady?"

"The one with short hair, and all the spiky things. You were talking to her instead of watching me."

"I don't know."

There was disapproval in Sydney's tone as she said, "You're not supposed to talk to strangers, Daddy."

"I don't think she was a bad person, sweetheart." Jack tried to hide his amusement at how grown-up Sydney sounded. She was obviously taking very seriously her promise to Irina that she'd 'look after Daddy'.

"She didn't look like a nice person."

"Well, sometimes you can't judge a person by what they're wearing. That's not very fair."

Sydney stopped and looked up at Jack, her eyes wide. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No!"

Sydney bit her lower lip. "Do you – do you want a girlfriend?"

She spoke so softly that Jack had to strain to hear her. He knelt in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. "Sweetheart, I still love Mommy very much. So much that I don't think I could ever want a girlfriend."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I wish Mommy wasn't dead," Sydney whispered, then burst into tears.

Jack pulled her into his arms. "I miss her too, sweetheart."

Cape Town

"Madam, there's someone at the door."

Irina looked up from the book she was reading, irritated at the disturbance. She frowned at the house helper. "Well, tell Andrei. He's expecting a client."

Prudence clicked her tongue. "No, madam, those people already came this morning."

This morning? Irina glanced at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see it was already late afternoon. She looked at Prudence, who was still standing in the doorway. "Well, I'm not expecting anyone. This must be another buyer."

"Madam, this man says he wants to speak to you."

Irina closed the book with more force than was necessary and strode past Prudence towards the front door. If this was another of Andrei's attempts at matchmaking, she might need to seriously consider putting her knife skills to use again.

She froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat, and reached for the wall to steady herself.

"Jack!"

He smiled uncertainly and stepped across the threshold. "Hi."

Irina couldn't move, couldn't think; all she could do was stare at Jack, and there was a part of her that wondered if she'd completely lost her mind and this was all in her imagination. And suddenly he was right in front of her and all her senses screamed that this was real.

"You look – You're more beautiful than I remember." His hand traced the curve of her cheek, and at his touch she smiled.

"You're here."

"Yes."

She needed to touch him, and reached up to caress his face.

And then she was in his arms. It was as if he'd just arrived home from a mission, only this was better because there were no lies between them now.

Prudence, in the mean time, had gone to call Andrei, who cleared his throat to announce his presence, then stifled a laugh when neither Irina nor Jack acknowledged him.

"Irushka, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Irina didn't look away from Jack to reply, "Go – Go pick some grapes or something, Andrei."

Jack kept one arm around Irina as he turned to face Andrei. He extended his free hand, and his smile was forced as he said, "Jack Bristow."

Irina recognized the look of mischief on Andrei's face; she'd seen it a thousand times since they were children. Andrei took Jack's hand. "Andrei."

"My cousin, Andrei," Irina clarified. "He's really sorry he's got plans this evening, otherwise he'd love to stay and chat."

"I have plans?"

"Yes. And you'll be late if you don't get going now."

Andrei nodded. "Right. Of course. Nice meeting you, Jack."

Andrei scooped the car keys from the key rack and went outside. The door had hardly clicked shut when Jack had Irina pressed against the wall. "I like him," he murmured against her neck, "He knows how to take a hint."

Irina tugged at Jack's shirt. Once it was free of his belt, she slipped her hands underneath and gave a soft, contented sigh. It had been far too long since she'd been in her husband's arms; over a year since they'd made love, and right now she wanted – needed – nothing more than to feel him inside her again. Everything else could wait.

Jack pulled back, breaking the contact between them, and swore under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, then looked apologetically at Irina. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here just to jump you in the hallway."

She smiled and grabbed his shirt to pull him back to her. "Let's try this again."

He played with the hem of her blouse. "Are you sure? I mean, are you okay to be doing this?"

She recalled a similar conversation in India. "Jack, it was months ago. I'm fine."

He shook his head, then took her left hand in his and gently ran his fingers over her cast. "What's the story behind this?"

"Car accident. I'm fine, Jack. I promise."

He smiled then, and kissed her. "Okay."

"Okay." She linked her fingers with his, and led him to the bedroom.