Page 3 of The Eagle (Spy Girl 2)
Daniel gets out of the pool, wraps a towel loosely around his waist, and follows me to the owner's suite where I'm staying, ignoring shouts from his trainer to get his butt back into the pool.
"What's up?" he asks, sliding the towel off his hips and running it through his wet hair.
"How did you know I would be on the Royal Yacht?"
"Ellis told me when I went to your villa. Ari was having a party with only beautiful women on the guest list."
"So why didn't you stay there and party?"
"Because you were the only beautiful woman I was looking for. I needed to see for myself that you were okay, and I wanted to apologize for the bathroom."
"You never apologized."
He gives me a grin. "Well, I'm really not sorry for the bathroom. I wanted you. Now I have you."
"I just spoke to Lorenzo. He wasn't pleased to learn you were on his boat."
Daniel unties my robe and slides his hands inside, gripping my hips and bringing them toward his. Normally, I love his cockiness and find his take-charge ways appealing, but not now. I back away from him and readjust my robe over my bikini.
"You're mad?"
"I don't like to be lied to."
"I never lied to you."
"You told me you were my party."
"And I was," he says, flashing his dimples. "And it was one hell of a party. We spent the entire first twelve hours in my bed. If my trainer hadn't arrived, it would have been longer."
I knead my fingers into my eyebrows, calming myself down. It's clear that I am not well trained on one thing: relationships. No surprise. I'm supposed to avoid them. I'm only supposed to have meaningless sex--which is all this gorgeous man in front of me was ever supposed to be.
And how I need to keep it.
"I'll talk to Lorenzo," he finally says. "Is he mad at you? I assumed that you two were over since you weren't together after the kidnapping. Do you need to talk about it? Were you badly traumatized?"
"Isn't that something you should have asked me earlier? I didn't even hear from you after the kidnapping. You didn't even seem to care I was still alive."
"Of course I cared, but I'm the Vice President's son. I got shot with a tranquilizer dart and knocked out. I was either in the constant care of doctors or being asked a million questions."
"Like what?"
"Like what I remembered."
"And what was that?"
"Why are you asking me all these questions?"
"Because it happened to both of us. Wouldn't it be normal to talk about it? Were you at all worried about me? I was kidnapped, threatened at gunpoint. I saw people get shot. Yet, for four days, there was no word from you. Not even a single text."
"I'm sorry," he says, putting his head down. "I wasn't allowed."
"By who?"
"You came onto the scene quickly. There were some people in the government who were questioning you and Ari."
"So they took your phone?"
"They advised me not to have contact with you until they cleared your background."
"Maybe they should have done that before we had sex," I say, smarting. I'm mad. Worked up in the same way I was that night at The Casino when I was upset with both him and the Prince. Mad at people I'm not even supposed to have feelings for in the first place.
That's it.
My mission in Montrovia is over.
My relationships with both Lorenzo and Daniel should be as well.
He reaches out to touch my face, but I bob my head to the side so that he misses.
"I can't deal with drama right now, Huntley. I have to focus on my training."
"And I'm a distraction. I know. Your coach already told me so. Maybe you training here isn't a good idea."
"You are mad."
"It doesn't really matter, Daniel." I throw my hands up in the air, wondering why I'm even fighting with him when there is something more important I need to tell him. "That's really not even what I wanted to talk to you about." I grab the remote off the nightstand and flip on the TV. "The President of the United States was just shot."
"Jack was shot?" he asks, calling President John F. Hillford, Jr. by his nickname.
"Do you know him well?"
"Pretty well. What did Lorenzo say about it? Does he know anything?"
"We were talking on the phone when he was informed of the news. He didn't have any details."
"Turn it up!" he yells out, as the picture flashes to the White House Press Room, and his father steps behind the podium.
I do as he asks and watch as he backs up and slowly sits on my bed. I may be spending time with Daniel on the boat, but I insisted on separate living quarters. I couldn't bring myself to sleep with Daniel in Lorenzo's suite.
His father speaks. "As most of you probably have already heard, the President of the United States was shot outside the entrance to the International Summit. We're still awaiting details on his condition, but we know that his life is in grave danger. I ask that you pray not only for your President, but for his wife, Blair, and his daughters, Cara and Isabelle. And for his parents, the former President John Hillford, Senior and his wife, Betty. Although he is the leader of our great nation, he is, first and foremost, a husband, a father, and a son.
"It's too early in the investigation to know who is behind the shooting, but rest assured, we will find those responsible and bring them to justice. May God bless the President, and may God bless the United States of America," he says, concluding his speech.
"Mr. Vice President," a reporter says. "Are you the Acting President?"
Daniel's father closes his eyes and nods. He's visibly upset. "Yes, while the President is incapacitated, I am Acting President."
"What about the shooter? Has there been an arrest?"
"I can't comment on the investigation, other than to say it is open, and I've received no definitive judgment on the shooter's motive or identity."
"Mr. Vice President, does that mean the shooter is still at large?"
"Yes, that is correct." The room breaks out in slight hysteria, reporters teetering on the edges of their chairs, eager to dissect this news on air. The Press Secretary steps in front of the podium as Daniel's dad moves away and says, "No further questions."
"I need to talk to my dad." Daniel runs into his stateroom to get his cell phone, comes back to sit next to me, and dials.
"Dad!" he says when his father answers. Because I'm sitting close, I can hear their conversation. "Are you safe?"
His father replies, "I'm in the White House. One of the safest places in the world."
"I just saw your press conference. How is Jack?"
"Not good, son."
&
nbsp; "And do you really not know who the shooter was? Has no one taken credit?"
"The shooter was an assassin. And a very good one, since we can't find a single shred of evidence. Are you at your training facility?"
"No, I'm on Prince Lorenzo's yacht in Ibiza."
"You mean King Vallenta?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"I want you back in Washington," his father says as I hear a chopper off in the distance.
I go outside to investigate.
The chopper lands on the yacht's helipad, and Lorenzo gets out looking sexy as ever in an all black suit, black spread collared shirt, and shiny Italian loafers.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, greeting him with a tight hug. It's only been a few days since I've last seen him, but it feels like much longer.
"I'm told Daniel needs to get back to the States," he says, giving me cheek kisses.
"Are you sure you don't just want him off your boat?" I whisper.
He winks at me in reply.
When Daniel joins us on the helipad, Lorenzo cups his shoulder, like they are still buddies. "It seems your Secret Service would prefer to have you in America rather than out on my boat with all that's going on. My father and President Hillford were friends, so I will be departing for America shortly. Would you like a ride home on the Royal Montrovian Jet?"
"Yes, I would," Daniel replies gratefully. "Thank you."
The former Dean of Blackwood Academy storms through the Black X headquarters and barges into the office of their leader, immediately shouting, "Did you conspire to kill the President?"
"What are you talking about, old man?" the leader asks.
"The President of the United States was just shot. It's all over the news."
"Well, that's quite the interesting plot twist," the leader replies, tilting his head thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" The former Dean calms himself down, nervously smoothing the front of his trousers with his hands. "You didn't answer my question."
"No, I didn't."
"You said he was their pawn. You wanted him dead!"
"Just because I wanted him dead, doesn't mean I did it," the leader states. "The man has a lot of enemies in the world. Was it a terrorist attack?"
"No group has claimed responsibility as of yet. But it only happened in the last hour."
"What else do you know?" the leader interrogates. "Have you called your contact at the CIA?"
