Midnight Remembered. Gayle Wilson

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      Prologue

      “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get out?”

      Paige Daniels turned her head and found Joshua Stone’s gaze on her face rather than on what was going on in the village square. And despite the seriousness of what was happening out there, his eyes seemed full of amusement.

      “I haven’t allowed myself to believe that we’re going to get out of here,” she admitted. “Not yet, anyway.”

      “You have to have faith, Daniels,” Josh chided, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepening as he grinned at her.

      She turned her head, looking again at the men who were searching for them. They were moving systematically from building to building through the bombed-out rubble.

      Armed primarily with out-of-date Soviet-made weapons, these rebels were as ill-equipped as were most of the Vladistan forces. Of course, there was nothing that said an old bullet couldn’t kill you as dead as a modern one.

      “Okay…” she whispered, still watching the manhunt, “then first I’m going to take a hot bath.”

      She heard a breath of sound beside her and recognized it as laughter. Her lips tilted in response, but this time she resisted the impulse to turn and look at him. Looking at Joshua Stone had proven too disruptive of her peace of mind during the weeks they’d spent together.

      After all, he was her partner. A professional relationship. And so far it had been highly professional.

      Despite her initial doubts that anyone could live up to the high regard in which Stone was held at the CIA, she had discovered that his reputation for ingenious planning and meticulous execution was well-deserved.

      Partner. And nothing else, she reminded herself.

      Even if there had been anything between them, now was not the time to allow herself to become distracted by it. Actually, she was determined that no one would ever know exactly how big a distraction Joshua Stone had been. Especially not Joshua Stone.

      “Can’t say you don’t need a bath,” he said. “There is a certain primitive charm, however, in listening to your nightly efforts at hygiene. A real exercise in creativity.”

      “Mine in making them or yours in listening?” she retorted.

      Without warning, he moved closer. His concentration on the scene outside had intensified, in spite of the absurdity of the conversation they were having. And she had known all along that he had begun it to keep her mind off what was going on. Paige pressed back against the wall, allowing him greater access to the crack through which they had been keeping an eye on the search.

      “All mine,” he said, his gaze still directed outside. Then he added, “And believe me, Daniels, I’m very creative.”

      He was so near that she could feel his breath against her cheek. They had existed in this same kind of intimacy for weeks, compelled into physical proximity by the demands of the mission and by their living conditions. Despite that enforced closeness, things had never gotten anywhere near any other kind of intimacy.

      At the beginning, if Josh Stone had attempted to initiate some sort of physical relationship, it would have made her uneasy. And she would have resisted. By now she was curious, to put it mildly, why things had never progressed beyond the easy camaraderie they shared. Stone’s notorious СКАЧАТЬ