Against All Odds by Irene Hannon Page A

demeanor must have soothed her, because after several seconds her features eased.
    “I’m just a little jumpy. But I trust you guys.”
    He managed to paste on a confident smile, but as he headed toward the living room he could only hope they deserved the faith she’d placed in them.
    Forty-five minutes later, when Coop reappeared in the kitchen, Monica folded her arms and faced him across the room.
    “Mark and I are heading over to check out the hotel.” He snagged his jacket off the back of a chair and shrugged into it. “We’ll be back to relieve Rick and Mac at six tomorrow morning.”
    “Okay.”
    She watched as he settled his jacket on his shoulders, expecting him to leave at once. Instead, he hesitated, as if uncertain about something. Such behavior from a man who usually projected authority and confidence rattled her.
    “Is something wrong?” She braced herself.
    “I have some news.”
    “Good or bad?”
    “It may be good.”
    “That doesn’t sound very definitive.” She gave him a wary look.
    “I just talked to my boss in Quantico. It appears someone in the terrorist group responsible for the kidnappings is willing to sell information about the location of the hostages.”
    “Isn’t that good?”
    “If it’s authentic. The security people who analyzed the communication think there’s a high probability it’s legit. In all likelihood it came from an insider with his own agenda. But it could also be a trap.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your father has been designated as the courier for the money.”
    It took her only a couple of seconds to process that piece of information and reach the obvious conclusion. “The terrorists may be trying to lure him out of the embassy so they can . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.
    “It’s possible. He’s been told to come alone.”
    “Where?”
    “A crowded marketplace.”
    “Is he going to do it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “That’s a question you’d have to ask him.” He propped a shoulder against the door frame and slipped one hand into the pocket of his slacks. “I can place a call to the embassy if you want to talk to him.”
    A brief flicker of indecision delayed her response for a fraction of a second. “No.”
    “If you change your mind, let Rick or Mac know. They can put the call through.”
    “Thanks.”
    Once again he hesitated. “Are you okay?”
    He seemed as surprised by the soft question as she was.
    “Yes.” A tremor ran through her word, exposing the lie.
    His gaze dropped to her lips, then rose again to her eyes, holding them captive. “Monica?”
    One word. That was all he said. But she heard much more. Tell me the truth. I care. I want to know how you really feel.
    Several silent seconds ticked by as she considered how to respond.
    “I’m not sure.” Her voice was little more than a whisper as she responded to his unspoken entreaty. “This has been very hard. And scary.”
    “I know. But we’ll do our best to get you through it.”
    Under his probing scrutiny, Monica felt her composure begin to disintegrate. Since Coop and Mark had turned her world upside down yesterday morning, she’d been struggling to appear poised and confident and strong.
    Except she didn’t feel strong now. She felt off balance and unsure, especially in light of this latest bombshell, with its unsettling implications. And in desperate need of something solid and safe and dependable to cling to. Something or someone.
    Someone like Coop.
    Even as the thought echoed in her mind, she dismissed it as absurd. The man was a stranger to her.
    But she couldn’t dismiss as easily the powerful urge to walk across the room and lean into him, to let his muscular arms enfold her. Protect her. Shelter her. The urge was so compelling she took an involuntary step back to counter it.
    “Thanks.” A single word was all she could get past her tight throat.
    His eyes narrowed a bit at her retreat. “Try to get some sleep tonight. You’re in good