Are Men From Mars?: Are Men From Mars? / Venus, How Could You?. Candy Halliday

Чтение книги онлайн.

      3

      BRAD HAD KNOWN HE WOULD BE taking a big gamble if he told his prisoner the truth. In fact, under different circumstances he could have even been facing a court martial for divulging classified information. But like the old man had said himself, this wasn’t your typical situation. Typical rules, therefore, simply did not apply.

      And that had been the deciding factor for Brad to place all the cards right out on the table. They were caught up in a bizarre situation. If he wanted her full cooperation, Brad knew he needed to tell the professor the truth. Instinct told him her own integrity wouldn’t let him down.

      By the time he finally finished his lengthy explanation, Brad noticed she had wandered over to the love seat after all, and was now sitting stiffly on the edge of her seat with a panicked expression on her face. And then, from out of the blue, came the overwhelming urge to comfort her; to take her gently into his arms and kiss away the lines of worry that were now marring her beautiful face.

      Whoa! Talk about a red alert.

      He wasn’t the comforting type. Sure, she’d been handed a raw deal, but she’d have to suck it up and deal with it. Besides, only seconds earlier comforting her had been the last thing on his mind. He’d have to be dead not to find her attractive. Earlier, as he’d watched her pace around the room, all he could think about was wanting her naked. Plain and simple. Naked he could handle.

      But being tempted to comfort her?

      That was scary.

      Purging any thoughts of comforting her from his mind, Brad said, “I hope you’ll agree protecting national security takes precedence over the research you were doing on your butterfly.”

      She nodded, but continued sitting on the edge of the love seat with a vacant stare.

      “And not to make light of things, but this is one of those situations where you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

      She glanced in his direction this time. “I don’t agree with that statement,” she said defiantly. “In fact, I think I was in the right place at the right time, or I never would have found the butterfly I was searching for.”

      “We could argue the point for hours, but it wouldn’t change the situation,” Brad tossed back. “The fact still remains protecting this mission has to take top priority.”

      She frowned. “Tell me, Captain. If this mission is so top secret, how did you get permission to tell me all of the details?”

      Brad smiled, having anticipated she would ask that very question. “What was the point in insulting your intelligence? You’ve already seen the Black Ghost. You’ve even ridden in it. You had to realize it wasn’t your everyday run-of-the-mill helicopter.”

      She seemed pleased with his answer. “You’re right. And then when you destroyed my film…”

      “You realized it was the helicopter I was trying to protect?” Brad finished for her.

      She nodded. “I suspected as much.”

      “I was counting on the fact that if I explained the seriousness of the situation, you’d be willing to give me your full cooperation,” he added for good measure.

      “Well, of course, I’ll give you my full cooperation now that I know the circumstances,” she said, sounding insulted that he might think otherwise. “I am a responsible citizen, Captain Hawkins, despite my one bad decision to climb that fence.”

      “Good. Because I’m going to need your full cooperation. And that’s an understatement.”

      She sent him a blank stare. “Do I dare ask why?”

      Brad tossed his empty soda can in a small waste-basket sitting by the recliner and left his chair. Walking toward the bookcase, he hoped what little ground he’d been gaining over the last few minutes wouldn’t be lost when the full magnitude of the situation was finally revealed to the woman with whom he was destined to be spending the next three days.

      However, just to be on the safe side, Brad purposely sent her an apologetic look when he picked up the television remote and reluctantly punched the button.

      MADDIE GASPED WHEN A close-up of Mary Beth instantly filled the screen.

      “Thank you for being so patient with me,” Mary Beth told the handsome TV reporter in what Maddie immediately recognized as her sister’s theatrical voice. “I’m still shaking so badly, I can hardly sit in this chair.” As proof, Mary Beth held out her trembling hands for the reporter to see.

      Maddie frowned.

      “Well, of course, you’ve been shaken up,” the reporter sympathized as he reached out to pat those poor shaking fingers. “Who wouldn’t be after what you’ve been through?”

      Mary Beth dabbed daintily at her eyes with a tissue one of the adoring police officers standing beside her suddenly produced, then sent another pitiful look directly at the camera.

      “For those of you just tuning in, we’re here at the police station in downtown Roswell this evening with actress and model, Mary Beth Morgan, who most of you will recognize as the Evershine Girl,” the reporter said.

      “The Evershine Girl?” Hawkins repeated, looking back in Maddie’s direction. “Hey, I remember that commercial.”

      Maddie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you and every other man in the country who happened to be tuned in to the Super Bowl last year.”

      Though his eyes turned back to the screen, Maddie knew that damn commercial was already running like a film strip through the captain’s head. Mary Beth riding out of the fog on a coal-black stallion. Steam pluming from the horse’s nostrils with every breath it took. Mary Beth holding on to its long black mane like Lady Godiva, with nothing to cover her nakedness but long blond ringlets of her damn Evershine hair.

      In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised Maddie if the company had gone bankrupt from a legion of lawsuits filed by all those guys who probably choked on their tortilla chips when Mary Beth rode nude across their television screen.

      “Was your sister really nude in that commercial?” he had the nerve to ask.

      Maddie held her hand up to silence him when the reporter patted Mary Beth supportively on the shoulder and said, “I know this is very difficult for you, Miss Morgan.” His sympathy prompted another sniffle from Mary Beth. “But could you please tell our viewers exactly what happened a few hours ago on the outskirts of Roswell?”

      When the reporter pushed the microphone in her direction, Mary Beth took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, trying, Maddie suspected, to produce a genuine tear. It worked. The camera СКАЧАТЬ