“Damn it, Maggie, if you don’t take your sweet little ass back to wherever it belongs, I’m going to haul it there for you. How’s that going to look to your associates back home?”
Maggie just smiled. “I only wanted to see how you were doing. I missed you.”
“Well, I haven’t had time to miss you. You’ve been underfoot for days.”
She smiled as if the remark meant nothing, but he couldn’t miss the hurt in her eyes. He wanted to hold her, tell her everything would be okay, but he couldn’t afford the luxury. Still, it was impossible for him to stay mad at her.
“Listen to me, Maggie. You’ve got Sarah to think of. In a little while this will all be over—one way or another. Until then, I don’t want anything to go wrong—and I don’t want you involved.”
She brightened at his concern. “All right, you win. I’ve got some paperwork to do anyway.” She threw him a last warm glance and left, only to return two hours later, pretending to need his help.
Jake sighed in frustration but resigned himself that she wasn’t going to let him get too far away.
On Thursday, he sponsored a team dinner in the small restaurant off the hotel lobby. Using the Nations’ Cup competition as an excuse for the get-together, the dinner created the perfect opportunity to fulfill Popov’s demands.
“Hey, Clay,” he said, approaching him at the bar. “My stomach’s killing me. You wouldn’t happen to have any of that medicine you use, would you?”
“I’m afraid it’s practically a fixture.” Clay pulled the plastic bottle from his inside coat pocket. Jake excused himself, went into the bathroom, dumped out the liquid in the bottle, poured in the mixture from the second bottle, and returned the bottle to Clay. It didn’t matter whether Clay got sick tonight or in the morning. Either way, he’d be out of the competition.
Flex was a more difficult proposition. Since he was wearing his hard contact lenses, Jake would have to get into Flex’s room in the morning and make the substitution before he dressed.
Depressed at the thought, he ordered a drink and sat down at a table after the others had gone up to their rooms. Then Maggie walked in, looking tired and strained, and so damned beautiful his chest ached.
“I caught a late flight back from Germany.” A problem had arisen with the dressage team, and she’d made a quick trip over to straighten things out. “Anything new?”
“Not a thing,” Jake said as she sat down beside him.
Maggie noticed the way his eyes slid away and knew he was lying. Something had happened—or was going to.
“How was your flight?” Jake asked, giving her a brittle smile.
“Tiring, but it gave me time to think.”
One of Jake’s black eyebrows went up. “About?”
“About what you’re planning to do.”
“I told you, Maggie, Daniel’s working on the problem. You don’t have to worry.”
“Stop it, Jake. I’m not a fool. You’re going to do exactly what the Soviets tell you to do.”
Jake’s gaze fixed on the drink in front of him.
“You’re an American now, Jake,” Maggie said. “How can you even consider doing what the Soviets want?”
He turned toward her. “I have to do what’s best for my family. When I went over that fence in Rome, I left my responsibilities behind. It’s time to pay the price.” He covered her hand with his. “You’re part of my family, you and Sarah. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“What about the others? I don’t know what the Soviets want, but the team is part of your family, too.”
“Maggie, please try to understand.”
Maggie fought to hold onto her temper. “Hasn’t living in this country taught you anything? If you do what they tell you, you’ll never be truly free.”
Jake’s expression hardened. “Can’t you see I have no choice? Unless Daniel finds an alternative, there’s nothing else I can do.”
Willing him to understand, Maggie’s voice softened. “When I told you about the car accident in Florida, about what happened to Les, you said it wasn’t my fault—that God makes those decisions. You can’t play God, Jake. Not with other people’s lives.”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t expect you to approve.”
