Mommy Midwife. Cassie Miles

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      “Why?”

      If circumstances had been different, he would have met her father before he’d asked for her hand in marriage. “The terrorist cell my team is investigating has a CIA crossover. Your dad might have intel I can use.”

      “Let me get this straight. You want to talk to my dad about spy stuff?”

      “He’s a source.”

      “I hadn’t planned for you to meet my family.” She lowered herself into a padded chair beside the desk. “Certainly not like this.”

      Though he’d prefer to keep his phone conversation with her father on the level of an intelligence briefing, they couldn’t ignore the personal. He and Richard Laughton had more in common than their occupations. “How much have you told them about me?”

      Avoiding his gaze, she stared at the phone in her hand. “They know that you proposed and that I turned you down.”

      “Did you give them a reason?”

      “I tried.” She shook her head. “I told them pretty much the same thing I told you. You’re a great guy, but we don’t have a relationship. And I’m not interested in being married to someone who’s always traveling and putting himself in danger on a regular basis.”

      “What if my career was different?”

      She shot him a questioning glance. “Different in what way?”

      “What if I wasn’t in the field?”

      “But you love your work.” She rose to her feet and stalked toward him. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve resigned from special ops.”

      He gave her a weak grin. “Surprise.”

      “No way. I won’t let you quit doing something you love because of me and the baby. That’s the worst way to start a relationship. You’d blame me for ruining your life.”

      He hadn’t been expecting her to turn handsprings, but he didn’t think she’d be outright hostile. Damn it, this was his decision. His life. “You know, Olivia, not everything is about you.”

      A knock at the front door to their suite interrupted any further explanation. A voice called out, “Room service.”

      Before he left the bedroom, Troy drew his gun. “I’ll deal with this. You stay here and make your phone call.”

      He went to the door and cautiously eased it open. The same bellman who’d carried their suitcases to the suite stood outside with a cart. While Troy watched and kept his weapon hidden behind his back, the young man wheeled into the room and unloaded the plates onto a round table.

      Hoping to pick up information, Troy commented, “This must be off-season for the lodge. Are many people staying here?”

      “There’s a lot more when the ski slopes are open, but you’d be surprised. We get golfers, hikers, mountain bike riders and people who are up here for river rafting.”

      There wasn’t a clever way to ask if the bellman had seen possible Hatari terrorists or a spy named Kruger from the last century. “Mostly families?”

      “That’s right. And we’ve got a wedding party coming in tomorrow for the weekend.”

      Troy gave him a generous tip before he locked the door and shoved a chair in front of it. If he’d been in the field, he never would have tasted food that hadn’t been prepared in his sight, but he had no reason to believe Olivia’s intruders had followed them to the hotel. He would have noticed a tail.

      She emerged from the bedroom. “I talked to my sister and warned her about a possible threat. After she told me I was nuts, she reminded me that her house has an excellent alarm system. They’ll be safe.”

      He held out his hand for the phone. “Can I talk to your father?”

      “Mom and Dad are asleep. They were exhausted after the flight from Cairo, and my sister didn’t want to wake them.”

      “I guess I’ll have to wait.” He was a patient man, almost to a fault. Patience and persistence were useful traits in his business, but Olivia was straining his reserves. She had a real talent for driving him to the edge and making him want to jump.

      He went to the table and lifted the lids off their separate dinners. Pan-fried trout for her. A T-bone steak for him.

      As she took her place, she gazed across the table with a guarded expression. “You said the decision to change your career wasn’t about me.”

      “Correct.” He sliced into his steak, cut off a chunk and stuffed it into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk. The consequences of his decision were still painful, and he knew better than to look toward her for understanding.

      “I’m listening,” she said.

      He shrugged. “It’s time for a change.”

      “Is this a military thing? Some kind of requirement?”

      “The T-bone’s great. How’s the fish?”

      “Delicious.” She poured water from a carafe into her glass and took a sip. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

      “I thought pregnant women were always eating for two.”

      “Oh, I’ve done plenty of that. I’ve packed on thirty-three pounds, probably more than that. I quit weighing myself two days ago.” She picked up her fork. “And you’re changing the subject. I want to know about your career.”

      Telling her about the career change was one of the reasons he’d come to Colorado. He was looking at a change in his life that might affect the way she felt about him. From the first time he’d proposed, she had made it crystal clear that she didn’t want to be married to a man whose occupation was full of danger and uncertainty. Now that he knew more about her family history, he had a greater understanding of that fear. But he still wouldn’t have quit if he hadn’t been ready to make the change. As it turned out, the timing was right for him to settle into a different phase of life.

      He wanted a home.

      He wanted to be a father—a real father, not a part-time visitor.

      All he had to do was convince Olivia. It was a risky proposition. If he told her and she still rejected him, he’d know that her reason for avoiding a relationship with him wasn’t just his job. She’d be saying no because she didn’t like him.

      “I’m thirty-six years old,” he said. “For somebody who does my kind of work, that’s over-the-hill. My reflexes aren’t as fast. My aim isn’t as sharp as it used to be.”

      “It sounds like you’re being too hard on yourself.”

      Since he was coming clean, he might as well let her know everything. He left the table and went to his duffel. From a front pocket, he removed a case, took out a pair of silver-rimmed eyeglasses and stuck them on his nose. Wearing them was an admission of declining vision, but it was nice to be able to see the food on the plate. “Right now, I just need them СКАЧАТЬ