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Final Target(14)

By:Iris Johansen


“Our guest. He’s staying at the gatehouse. He takes a run every morning.”

“Really?” Melissa gave a low whistle. “You didn’t tell me about him. Sexy.”

Was he sexy? Jessica had studied him. Michael Travis was not really good-looking. He had a great body—tall, slim, and muscular—but his features were irregular. His nose was too big, his mouth too wide, and his dark eyes set deep. But she knew why Melissa had made the comment. He exuded an energy that was almost electric, and it was difficult not to keep looking at him. The first time Jessica had seen him two days ago she had experienced . . . what? Surprise?

Melissa grinned. “You think so too.”

“He’s too old for you. He must be in his mid-thirties.”

“For Pete’s sake, I’m twenty-six. You keep thinking of me as a baby. I just may pay a visit to the gatehouse.” She glanced slyly at Jessica. “Unless you have dibs on him.”

“I’ve never said two words to him.”

“Then you’ve been hanging out too much with children.”

“The President says he’s off limits.”

“Great. Forbidden fruit always tastes better.”

“You didn’t ask why he was living in the gatehouse.”

“I thought you didn’t want to have your gigolo in the house with the kid. The gatehouse is much more private.”

“Mellie.”

She giggled. “Lighten up.” She picked up her suitcase and carried it into the house. “I’ll just take this to the dreaded blue room. Put on some coffee, will you? I need some caffeine after going through that gauntlet at the gate. Any minute I expected them to ask me to submit to a strip search. Now, if it had been your guy at the gatehouse . . .” Before Jessica could answer, she was running up the stairs.

Jessica felt a surge of relief as she headed for the kitchen. Melissa seemed perfectly normal. No apparent tension. Good spirits. The usual half-teasing, half-mischievous attitude. If anything, her demeanor was even more vivacious than customary. She was practically glowing.

“Want me to make some sandwiches?” Melissa breezed into the kitchen. “I’m hungry.”

“There’s ham and cheese in the refrigerator.” She poured coffee into two cups. “I’ll do it.”

“Nope, I need to move. I’m charged.”

Melissa was always charged, Jessica thought. She was constantly moving, talking, laughing. She had once said that she had to make up for those lost years, and Jessica could believe it. She had never seen anyone more alive than Melissa.

Except for the man in the gatehouse.

Strange that comparison had popped into her mind. They were nothing alike. Melissa had the eye-catching beauty their mother had possessed. High cheekbones, shining chestnut-colored hair, and blue eyes that tilted up at the corners. Her only similarities to Travis were their tall, athletic bodies and that air of feverish energy.

Feverish.

Michael Travis was not feverish; his every movement seemed controlled and deliberate. And the word didn’t usually describe Melissa. Yet there was a restless, fevered air about Melissa today.

“What are you looking at?” Melissa was gazing at her over her shoulder. “Do I have a smudge?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“Oh, nuts, you’re in analytical mode.” She put the sandwich down in front of Jessica and sat across from her. “I’m fine. I just wanted to see you. Is that such a surprise?”

“Not if it’s the truth.”

“Why shouldn’t it be the truth? How’s the kid?”

“Not good. The nightmares are getting worse.” It was clear Melissa wasn’t going to confide in her. She’d have to back away and try later. “I’m worried about her.”

“You have a right to be.”

Jessica stiffened. “Why do you say that?”

“You know why. I’ve been there. I’ve told you before how close I came to not coming back. The nightmares drove me deeper and deeper until I—”

“But you came back.”

“You pulled me back. You kept at me until I took the first step. There were times I hated you for making me return. I never realized how much you sacrificed and worked to heal me.” She smiled luminously. “Have I ever told you how much I love you, Jessica?”

“Shut up. You’d have done the same for me.”

“I’d do anything for you,” she said quietly. “Just give me the chance.”

“Okay.” She got to her feet. “You wash the dishes while I go check on Cassie.”

“I’ve embarrassed you.” She finished her coffee. “Sorry. I had to say it. Too many people go through life and never say the words. When I came back, I wanted to run around and tell everyone not to take anything for granted, that any minute they might go away and never come back.”