The Makeover Mission. Mary Buckham
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Название: The Makeover Mission
Автор: Mary Buckham
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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All of a sudden a question that had been bothering her resurfaced. She leaned forward and asked, “Exactly where is the other Elena? The real one, I mean.”
For a moment she thought he might not answer. Not that she learned all that much when he finally did. “That’s need-to-know information.”
She sat back as if he’d slapped her. “And I obviously don’t need to know.”
“Exactly.”
Well, she might not be experienced in the ways of the world, but she could translate do-not-enter signs as well as the next person. Choking down another slice of her rare roast beef, she set the rest aside, sure it would lodge in her throat. Why should it hurt that he wanted her to risk her life for this missing Elena, but didn’t trust her to share all but the barest information?
“All I can tell you is that she’s recovering, away from Vendari. It’ll be safer for you if you don’t know any more details.”
His words caught her off guard and she found herself glancing up, surprised by the understanding she saw in his gaze, not trusting that it was really meant for her.
Then the implication of his words set in. If she was killed outright it wouldn’t make a speck of difference if she knew the whereabouts of the real Elena. But if she was kidnapped—again—then she could be tortured in an attempt to get her to reveal information she didn’t know.
Swallowing hard she pushed away the rest of her meal. Her stomach felt as if she’d taken a dive off a very high tower, knowing the ground was coming up, hard and fast.
“You can’t keep skipping your meals and expect to function at top form.”
Major Miss-Nothing obviously thought he could control everything. Including her stomach. She had to remember her role here. She was part of a scheme—or mission, or whatever—and that was all. Not a person who was scared right down to the soles of her feet. Not a woman who might want to be comforted instead of admonished.
She kept her voice calm when she knew it wanted to quiver as she lifted her gaze to the man across from her.
“I will do what I need to do to get through this masquerade.”
“Mission.”
“And you’ll do what you need to do. But—” she saw she had his attention by the way the lines bracketing his eyes deepened, the color of them intensifying. “—if you criticize everything I won’t be able to function at all.”
He weighed her words. “That wasn’t a criticism.”
“I think you’re used to dealing with subordinates. I’m not, nor will I be treated like one.”
The old Jane would never have dared to confront another, especially one who glared at her with ice in his eyes. But a small part of her exalted.
Silence spun between them. She vowed not to give in, not on this. A man like McConneghy would eat her alive if she let him. And while that challenged her at one level, or at least evoked some pretty heated images she had no business dwelling on, she needed some sense of control. Everything else had been taken from her—her sense of security, her identity, her freedom of choice, but she refused to be treated like a non-thinking, non-feeling robot.
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