Girl In The Water Part 29

"Carol?"

"How could she?"

Carmen ended up answering the questions, holding her finally sleeping baby, shaking her head every time anyone asked if she wanted someone to give her a break. She looked as if she might never put that kid down again.

Phil sat glued to her side, his arms around his wife and child.

"Carol's baby is sick." Carmen's eyes filled with tears. "I think, maybe she couldn't handle the thought of losing her baby, on top of losing her husband."

Ian wasn't sure if she was crying for Carol or herself. Probably both.

He stood in the back by the door, Daniela in front of him. She'd done well today. Carol had messed with his head, but Daniela's head had remained clear. She really was something. She was going to be an excellent investigator. He was d.a.m.ned proud of her.

While Carmen answered more questions, Daniela leaned back against Ian's chest.

He should have pushed her away. He didn't. They'd both had an emotionally exhausting day.

As everyone crowded around Carmen and Phil, Ian pulled toward the door. The people in the cafeteria were a family. He wanted to give them their private family moment.

He headed up to the volunteer dorms.

Daniela followed him, bouncing on the steps, still wired, high on adrenaline. She'd just solved her first case.

"You got that baby back for those parents," he told her.

She grinned. "So you think I'll be good at this job?"

"Better than good. You can partner with me anytime."

She grinned wider. Her eyes lit up. Her dark hair framed her face, loosened from the tight bun she'd had it in all day. She looked like a true river G.o.ddess.

He could have looked at her all night.

He turned his attention to the chipped tile of the hallway, then to their room as they walked in.

It was the middle of the night, but they were both sticky, so they headed to the showers. Girls on the left, boys on the right.

Ian returned to their room first. He stretched out on the bed.

Maybe forcing himself to act relaxed would make him feel relaxed.

Since Daniela had come into his life, he'd stopped sleeping naked. He always wore at least boxer briefs, and sometimes a T-s.h.i.+rt too. And now that they were sharing a room, he made sure the sheet was pulled at least to his waist.

Bad enough that she kept wearing that flimsy nightgown. All right, so not that flimsy. The white material covered everything down to her knees. Still, as far as he was concerned, she would tempt a saint who was a thousand years dead.

Thank G.o.d, tomorrow they'd be out of here, back to separate bedrooms at home, then off on separate missions. Sure, he'd be worried about her every day. But he knew she could handle whatever came her way.

As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed.

But when Daniela came in, she wasn't wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she'd been painted with diamonds.

"Christ," he breathed.

Daniela Daniela's heart beat in her throat. Her skin was on fire just from Ian looking at her, his gaze pure molten lava, as if he was never going to take his eyes off her ever again.

Walking over to him took every ounce of courage she had.

She put her pride on the line. She laid her body and heart bare for him. This was it.

Lila Heyerdahl was safe.

Tonight was the night. Tonight, Daniela would finally be Ian's, and then forever after. After all these years, coming together here in Brazil, where they'd first met, felt right. Fate.

She'd prepared a long, convincing speech in the shower. She couldn't remember a word.

"I love you," she said simply.

He watched her as if he'd been lost in the jungle for a month and suddenly came across a waiter carrying a steak dinner on a tray.

Or maybe that was just a trick of the light, because he said, his voice past strangled, "Please put on your clothes."

"I love you," she said again.

He closed his eyes. "Stop this."

And then he was off his bed. And then he was shrugging into his jeans, grabbing his sneakers, and then he was out the door. Running away once again.

She stared after him as the door swung shut, her heart pounding. She sat on her bed, light-headed. He will come back. She'd just startled him. He will come back.

She'd given him her heart. All these years, she hadn't even been sure if she had a heart to give. But she did. And she was glad. And as soon as Ian thought about it, he'd be glad too.

He loved her. His love had been there in the way he looked at her, in the million things he did for her, in the tone of his voice when he talked to her. In that single, spectacular kiss they'd shared. He will come back.

But when she woke in the morning, his bed was still empty.

And Daniela felt her newfound heart crack right to its core.

She was stunned. She was cold, which was physically impossible in this heat, but there she was, s.h.i.+vering. She was angry.

She wanted Ian to come back, but now she wanted it so she could yell at him. I love you. And if you could let go of your stupid hang-ups about us, you'd love me too. I can't believe you're such a coward!

That anger got her going at last.

She dressed. Packed. Stood in the middle of the room.

And then she cried like the stupid, infatuated girl she still was. Ian was right. She hadn't grown up. He'd said no a dozen times, and she kept throwing herself at him.

Maybe he didn't love her.

Maybe he had never loved her romantically, only as a friend, exactly as he'd said. Maybe he was never going to love her the way she craved. Maybe she'd made all that great love up in her head.

He'd offered friends.h.i.+p, and she'd gone crazy with it.

Bobby at GWU thought she was into him.

Maybe she was to Ian what Bobby was to her. An unrequited love she didn't want to hurt because they were friends. She thought about how uncomfortable Bobby had made her feel at times.

Then she thought about how Ian tried to get away from her every time she pushed the relations.h.i.+p issue.

G.o.d, I've been stupid.

She was mortified.

But this was it now. She squared her shoulders and squared her jaw. This was the end. She had grown up finally. She was a woman. A strong woman. And she was going to build herself a good life, a life that didn't revolve around hopelessly pining for Ian Slaney.

He'd saved her four years ago. She would forever be grateful to him. But she was going to stop ruining both of their lives with her stupid unrequited love, right this second.

Should have known, a little voice, the voice of young Daniela, beaten-down Daniela in Rosa's house, said in her head. Her mother had died and left her alone. Then Pedro had pa.s.sed her on and abandoned her at Rosa's. Rosa pa.s.sed her on too. Then Finch had died and left her too. Why had she thought that Ian would want her forever? Of course he wouldn't.

Daniela squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to scream.

She hated that timid voice of insecurity. Hated it every time it came back. She was no longer the helpless little Daniela, at the mercy of others.

She pulled out her phone and reserved a seat on the next plane from Manaus to the US. She didn't care if Ian could get on the same flight or not. In fact, she preferred going home on separate planes.

Chapter Eighteen.

Ian Daniela had left him in Brazil. What the h.e.l.l?

As Ian sat on the plane, going home alone, his feelings must have shown on his face, because the flight attendants gave him a wide berth.

He'd meant to stay in Brazil for a few more days, go back to Rio, find Marcos Morais, and have a heart-to-heart, better yet, a fist-to-face, with the man. But Ian didn't like the way Daniela had left.

He'd upset her. More than that-he'd hurt her. He had to make it right.

Since he hadn't slept all night, he'd had time to think. He was trying to do right by Daniela, but she saw that as a rejection.

He had been a pretty big part of her life in the last couple of years. She had no family in the US and few friends, no wide network of support.

So, right now, Ian needed to go after her, spend a few days with her, iron things out between them, make sure she was okay. Make sure that she knew she was important to him, that he wanted her in his life, wanted to be in her life for as long as she'd let him. Romance...could not happen. But he was desperate to go back to the way things had been between them for the past four years.

While he convinced her, he'd file his reports at work, then take a leave of absence and return to Brazil, finally bring Finch's murderers to justice.

He wanted to track down Goat Man through Marcos Morais. He might even do some tracking from the US first, from the CPRU office where he had access to all kinds of international law databases. For the first time, he had a name, a place to start.

He would run searches, go back to Rio, take out Marcus Morais and Goat Man.

And if he followed this plan, Daniela and he could have a breather from each other too. Maybe she'd use the time apart to meet some nice young man.

Maybe it was for the best that she'd left him in Manaus. The solo flight gave Ian time to try to figure out what the h.e.l.l to say to her.

Christ, when she'd dropped that towel.

Yes, she was a woman, dammit. Of course, he knew that. Of course, he responded to her. He wasn't dead.

He wasn't a conscienceless b.a.s.t.a.r.d either. He was too old for her, too jaded.

He planned on having that talk as soon as he got home, but when he finally walked through the door to their apartment, he found her packing. Not unpacking from the Brazil trip, but packing up everything.

She wore faded old jeans and a baggy T-s.h.i.+rt that covered nearly all of her, but he was still seeing her naked. What was wrong with him?

She had a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and was laying out clothes with the other.

He half expected her to throw the cup at him.

"You're right," she said instead, no high emotions in her tone, professionally cool. "I need to make my own life." She put shoes in a bag. "I'm going to spend the night with Crystal. I just talked to her. There's an empty studio apartment in her building. I'm going to rent it tomorrow."

Ian dropped his backpack by the door, then walked into the living room, folded his tired body into his recliner, and just watched her, a mix of emotions flooding through him.

She paused the packing long enough to look at him. "You saved me from a terrible life. Then you brought me to the US and you gave me a wonderful new life here. But somehow, it's all connected to you. You ended up being my life. I need to make a life for myself."

He nodded numbly. Exactly. Hadn't he been trying to tell her the same thing forever?

Every word she said was true. Every word also hurt like h.e.l.l.

He hadn't thought about her moving out completely. But, okay, she was right. He couldn't expect her to be independent of him and be unwilling to let her go at the same time. Of course, she had to make a life of her own. Of course, she couldn't do it from his apartment. And yet...

No and yet. He filled his lungs. "Let me know if I can help with anything."

She flashed a half smile. "The whole point of independence is that I need to learn to do things without your help."

Well, he hated the sound of that.

"You don't have to run out of here like this," he said. "I'm going to take some time off from work and go back to Brazil. I want to find something that'll link Marcos Morais and Goat Man to Finch's murder and put them behind bars."

She stopped moving. Was that worry crossing her face? But then, after a long moment, she simply nodded and went back to folding s.h.i.+rts. "I'm almost packed. Crystal is expecting me."

As he watched her roll up socks from the laundry basket, disjointed thoughts floated through his brain: the day he'd found her, Finch, Marcos Morais and his diamonds. Then some of those thoughts solidified and made Ian sit up straight.

"When Finch told you to leave for a few days, just before he was killed... Did you pack? Did you take anything with you?"