Heart Of The Tiger

“No, thank you.”

His blue eyes crinkled as he placed the porcelain plate bearing the cake slice on her tray. “Go on, you look like a gal who loves chocolate. Besides, you need to put on some more weight.”

The dessert did look delicious. Layne hesitated. “How could you know I like chocolate? Is that in my file, too?”

“No. Just a lucky guess.”

Layne gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. “Somehow, Matt, I doubt if you leave anything to chance or luck.”

He placed his tray on an empty recliner and leaned back, stretching like a satiated lion after a satisfying meal. “Meeting you was pure luck, lady. Good luck.”

She picked up the fork, taking a tentative bite of the cake. It literally melted in her mouth. “Since when do test pilots rely on luck for anything?”

“I’m the first to admit that I don’t have full control over the universe. There’s an unseen element of luck or fate at work in everything.” He laughed pleasantly, relaxing by placing his hands behind his head. His blue eyes sparkled with warmth. “Fate outdid herself this time, though. I couldn’t have had a better partner on this assignment.”

Layne’s eyes flashed. “And just a few days ago you were saying I was little more than excess baggage on this trip. Get your story straight.”

Matt smiled good-naturedly. The petulant set of Layne’s lips did nothing but remind him of their earlier kiss. Matt groaned inwardly, remembering her softness, her responsiveness. Tucking those passionate memories away, he focused on her rebellious attitude toward him. “I never referred to you as excess baggage. I felt and still feel that you aren’t capable of defending yourself if it becomes necessary. What I meant was that I enjoy your company.”

Layne stabbed at the cake. “Well, I don’t like the idea of having you as a babysitter. But we each lack something that the other compensates for.”

He saw the stain of crimson coming to her cheeks and felt the urge to reach out and reassure her. But in her present feisty mood, Matt knew she wouldn’t stand for it, so he resigned himself to some more teasing. “This is one time I’m glad I don’t know a language.”

“You know, the Chinese are right—we are foreign devils.”

Matt laughed. “Foreign devils?”

Layne finished the cake, satisfied that she now had him off balance, and she was in control of the situation, for once. Placing the tray on another recliner, she stood up. Smoothing out the wrinkles gathering on her jeans, Layne paced around the large, enclosed area. “What did they tell you about the Chinese, Matt? Anything?”

He lost some of his humor and sobered. “Let’s put it this way: The lao-pan isn’t a very nice guy. If the pirates don’t like you, they get rid of you. They don’t have many morals.”

“Oh, they have morals; it’s just that you wouldn’t agree with them—or with how they see the rest of us.”

“I get the feeling the Chinese don’t like Americans.”

Layne did a few minor stretching exercises to loosen her muscles. “It extends beyond Americans, Matt, so don’t feel alone. The Chinese feel no one but their own kind can understand them. And anyone invading their country is considered a ‘foreign devil.’”

“Is that stigma ever erased?”

Layne shook her head. “No. As much as the lao-pan respects me, I’m sure he still distrusts and dislikes me because I’m not Chinese.”

“And yet, he made you part of their clan.”

“It’s an honor, to be sure.”

“The alternative isn’t particularly inviting.”

“Yes, they’d lop off my head.” She rubbed her arm, feeling goose pimples forming. “Kang is very clear about his rights as leader of his clan. They don’t regard killing someone with the same horror or outrage that an American would.”

“I suppose that’s all tied up with their Far Eastern philosophy of reincarnation?”

“Partly.”

Matt sat up and folded his hands between his thighs, a serious look on his face. “Are you sure they won’t hurt you, Layne?”

Layne stopped her pacing, giving him a startled look. His voice held a depth of worry and protectiveness that sent her heart reeling. “As long as I play by their code and laws, the lao-pan wouldn’t harm me. Why?”

He cocked his head, a cobalt darkness in his narrowing eyes. “Because there’s no way in the world I’m going to lose you, Layne. This mission is dangerous at every turn.” He briefly clenched his hands together, the knuckles whitening.

“I’ll be okay,” she assured him. “But it would help to know something about the mission, Matt. Can you tell me anything?”

His features became closed and unreadable. “Believe me, Layne, I’d tell you if I could.”

“Don’t give me that compartmentalized policy!” Her eyes grew amber with fury. “If I’m sticking my neck out on the same line as you, I should know what I’m walking into!”

Matt nodded. “Under any other circumstance, I’d agree with you, Layne.” He motioned for her to come and sit down next to him. At first, she just stared at him, then finally acquiesced. “Look,” he began in a quiet voice, “British Special Intelligence is in on this. And so is the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Not to mention the other side of the coin, which consists of KGB and People’s Republic of China agents. Then we have the unknown entity in the guise of the pirates. As you said before, they live by their own codes and laws. They owe allegiance to no one.”

“Except to themselves. You’re sure that People’s Republic of China has agents trying to find whatever we’re after?” Layne asked.

“Positive.” He leaned back, closing his eyes momentarily. “Right now we’re walking into the biggest game in football.”

Layne tilted her head. “The Super Bowl?”

Matt opened his eyes, staring directly at her. A wry smile surfaced. “I’ll be the quarterback and you be my wide receiver. We’ll win this game.”

Her returning laugh was soft and lilting, stroking him like the delicate brush of a flower petal against his flesh. “Remember, I grew up in the Orient. I’m afraid I never liked football. Mind telling me what it’s about so that I have a more complete picture of what we’re getting into?”

Matt warmed to her team spirit. Layne could have said “what I’m getting into,” instead, she’d automatically included him. That was good. It might save their lives at some point in the future. “As a kid I played football. I was a quarterback in high school.”

“Sounds like you’re good at being a quarterback.”

“I am.”

“And were you a state champion?” Layne guessed. With his natural athletic grace, she imagined him being highly competitive.

“I usually won my games.” Matt grinned, then sobered. “And in this game, it’s you and me on one team and the pirates on the other. Only they’ll be throwing bullets or knives instead of a harmless ball.”

Her flesh grew cool, and Layne lost her smile. “What are our chances, Matt?”

He heard the tremor of fear veiled in her husky voice. “Better with you along, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t evade my question. That’s a Company tactic.”

Matt winced inwardly at the pleading in Layne’s voice. “All right,” he began grimly, “we stand a thirty-seven percent chance of completing this mission.”

“That’s what the computer has projected?”

“Yes.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question entirely.”

His gaze rested on her. Again, Matt saw the flicker of a woman who could possess great leadership ability if she chose to bring it out and utilize that facet of herself. “We could get killed by KGB or PRC or the pirates.”

“Not the pirates.”

Grimly, Matt pursed his lips into a thinner line. “Look, we’re not even sure if your lao-pan has what we want. There are other pirate clans out there in those hundreds of islands. And not all of them are friendly with one another. If it has fallen into other hands, we may need the lao-pan’s help in getting it from another of his factions. That would mean exposing ourselves to yet another enemy. It’s not a pretty picture, Layne.”

“Dammit, tell me what ‘it’ is, Matt! I’m tired of this pussy-footing around the object or thing we’re supposed to get or find.”

“You’ll know soon enough after we contact the lao-pan, Layne. But not until then.”

She glared at him. “Well, I’ve got some of it figured out. You’re a pilot. Someone who’s testing state-of-the-art aircraft. The Company wouldn’t be sending you over here unless a plane of some sort was involved. I haven’t seen anything in the paper to indicate that one of our aircraft has been shot down. So, it must be a reconnaissance aircraft. Or something our government was secretly testing that couldn’t be tracked by radar. The RAVEN bomber is such a plane.”

Matt gave her a grudging look of admiration. “Your father didn’t raise you to be a dummy, did he?”

“My dad taught me to think on my feet,” she returned sharply.

“Well, it isn’t a RAVEN, so forget about that angle, Layne.”

“All right,” she continued, her eyes bright, “a reconnaissance aircraft. An SR-71 B-2. Maybe a U-2. Probably a B-2 because I know they fly that area off the coast of China, monitoring Russian as well as Chinese activity.”

He said nothing, holding her challenging glare. He longed to share his fears and tell her that it was his younger brother whose life hung in the balance. Hell, he didn’t even know if Jim was alive or dead. “No lies, Layne. I can’t confirm or deny your conjectures.”

Layne leaned forward, bare inches separating them. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the dizzying male scent of him, and it excited her. But she dove on, heedless of the dangerous tension that coiled invisibly around him. “A bird goes down. If it’s a B-2 that means two pilots are involved. If it was a U-2, one pilot. Either way, there are lives at stake. Highly trained pilots who are the cream of the Air Force’s crop carrying the most vital avionics technology in their heads. I’m sure the KGB would love to get their hands on our pilot and pull the secrets out of him.”

She saw Matt’s flesh tighten around his cheekbones and mouth, the color draining from his face. Layne instinctively retreated as he slowly turned his head, his thundercloud black eyes pinning her savagely.

“Leave it alone, Layne,” he ground out. “Back off.”

Shaken, Layne stared openmouthed for a second, assimilating the anguish behind his warning. Matt’s hands were white-knuckled on the arms of the recliner. He appeared as if he were going to explode any second—at her. Taking in a gulp of air, Layne rapidly gathered her sharded thoughts. Matt was too emotional, which verified that she was very close to the truth. But no spy ever allowed the feelings that Matt displayed to surface. And that left her shaken. Was he really a test pilot working for the Company as only a part-time and rarely triggered second vocation? A part of her heaved a great sigh of relief if that were true; another part froze in abject fear. Matt was too human, then, for her own good. All that kindness and sensitivity in him was a natural extension of his true self—not some act to manipulate her like a pawn.

“Matt, I—”

“Drop it, Layne.”

“But—”

He turned and faced her squarely, his features hard. “Not another word about it, Layne.”

She reared back, fury etched in every feature of her face. “Don’t try to treat me like some child! Brad tried that, too. I won’t be parented. You either treat me like an adult or else.”

“Quit overreacting and comparing me to Carson, dammit! I’m a hundred and eighty degrees opposite to him in every way. If you want this mission to go smoothly, you’d best start learning to trust and judge me as an individual, not as some counterpart of your late husband. I’m going to need your help, not your reactions.” His eyes lost some of their initial hardness, his voice softening. “Don’t fight me, Layne. Sometimes I have to stop myself from telling you everything. God knows I want to, but it’s impossible right now.” Matt reached out, his fingers wrapping strongly around her cold, damp hand. “Please trust me. It’s the only thing that will keep us both alive during this mission. You’ve got to put your back up against mine as the enemy circles us. You’ve got to sense intuitively if I need your help or assistance. Don’t keep needling me on what I can’t divulge to you. You’ll know soon enough.”

A ribbon of shame flowed through Layne. This was the man Matt Talbot trying to reason with her, his voice trembling with conviction and concern. His hand was dry and warm and strong around her own. She chewed on her lower lip, feeling guilty. “I only wanted to say, before you kept interrupting me, that you were awfully emotional. And that isn’t like a Company man.”

Matt turned her hand over, studying her long, slender fingers. “And I don’t spy for a living, Layne. I told you that before. This is a second job. One that I’m rarely called on to perform. If I had wanted to join the Company on a full-time basis, I’d have done it years ago. But flying is my life.”

A small smile fled across her lips. “Your mistress?”

Matt managed a slight, strained laugh. “Yeah, I suppose you could call it that. I have the Air Force for a mother-in-law and my aircraft as a mistress.”

Layne was acutely aware of his thumb tracing lazy circles in the palm of her hand, sending delightful tingles sizzling up her arm. Reluctantly she disengaged from his provocative touch, fighting a powerful desire to remain ensconced within his care. “My dad used to say he had the best of all worlds combined—a mother-in-law that understood his love of flying, a mistress who constantly challenged him and a wife who loved him, faults and all.”

“Yeah, I can identify with that,” Matt agreed huskily. “

What did your wife think of your test-piloting career?” Immediately Layne chastised herself; she was getting personal again. But the gnawing ache of wanting to know more about Matt simply dissolved those walls she had always hidden behind.

Matt began to uncoil and relaxed in the recliner, keeping his blue gaze steadily on her. “Jenny worried a lot. I even took her down to the operations building at Edwards Air Force Base and showed her the preparation behind a flight.” He shrugged. “It didn’t seem to allay her fears, but only increased them because she wondered if more errors couldn’t be built into a test on any given flight.”

Layne smiled. “That’s interesting, because my dad did the same thing for my mom and me.”

“And?”

“We both quit worrying a great deal about Dad’s flights.” Her brows drew into a pained position. “But a bird killed him anyway.”

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

Layne rallied beneath his roughened tone. “He was testing the fuel distribution pumps in both wing tanks on a prototype. I guess too much fuel was pumped into one wing when a valve stuck in the open position and there was no instrument to warn him of what had happened. The weight caused the plane to go into a dive, and Dad couldn’t pull it out in time. He ejected at the last moment but the chute was shredded by the speed of the descent.” Her voice lowered. “They told us later that he didn’t feel a thing.” Layne shuddered, reliving that October day.

“He wouldn’t have—believe me, kitten.”

She raised her head, lost in the blue of his eyes. “How long have you been testing?”

“Four years.” “

I suppose you love it?”

Matt nodded. “Yes.”

“I think you like living dangerously.”

“But I don’t see it as dangerous, Layne. Safety is the key phrase.”

“And the rest is luck—or fate.”

“There’s that unaccounted-for ten percent that can go for or against you.”

She rested her chin on her clasped hands, a faraway look in her eyes. “That’s odd, Dad always said the same thing.”

“Look at it this way, Layne. Fate brought us together. I feel like the luckiest man in the world getting introduced to you. Sometimes fate twists in the right direction.”

“You’d better hope it doesn’t turn its back on us, Matt Talbot.” “And you’re blushing, Layne Hamilton.”

She fretted, then rose. “I’m having a tough time dealing with your honesty, Major.”

He grinned. “Better get used to it. I’m out to prove to you that even though I work for the Company, there can be such a thing as candor in an agent.”

“What’s the game plan once we land in Hong Kong, Matt?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’ll take you to the hotel and then I’ll meet with British SI and the Company people.”

“To be briefed?”

He nodded. “All contingents will be there.” “

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