“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Ellie. What’s past is past.”
“Clay, don’t do this.”
“I want your promise.”
Prissy sighed. “All right. I won’t tell her. But promise me you’ll think this through again.”
“I’ve done nothing but think since it happened. I have no choice.” He turned his back on her, swung up into the saddle and nudged Max forward.
His mind was made up. Whatever he and Ellie had found was over. As dead as he felt inside. He would put all his energy into winning. Nothing else mattered now.
His insides tightened. Just days ago, his life had seemed full and rich, filled with endless possibilities.
But days ago, he’d been dreaming of Ellie Fletcher, holding her, kissing her, making love to her. She had filled him with the joy of life and living.
Now he had to let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jake finished drying off, then casually wrapped the towel around his waist, preparing to shave. He’d heard about the fight between Flex and Clay just minutes after it happened. Dammit, he’d hoped Ellie would have more sense that to get involved with Clay.
Three days had passed since then. Jake hadn’t mentioned it and neither had Ellie. But Ellie wasn’t good at hiding her emotions and the hurt was clear in her face.
Aside from the protective, almost fatherly feelings he held for her, Jake hated the dissension between the team members that had blossomed overnight. Part of him felt Clay deserved exactly what he’d gotten. But another, larger part kept telling him things weren’t what they seemed.
Clay Whitfield was acting out of character. Or maybe, he thought, acting too muchincharacter, even for Clay.
In the days following his return from Monaco, Clay had become the epitome of his own legend. He was riding beautifully, drinking hard, laughing and carousing, acting every bit the infamous celebrity playboy—except for the women. Clay had yet to be seen with a woman.
Even Linda Gibbons’ advances had been politely refused, much to Linda’s chagrin. Jake had seen them talking after the competition on Saturday. Linda had bluntly asked Clay to take her to bed. Clay had gently refused. Linda had stormed off, calling him a bastard, among several other choice descriptions. Clay had smiled indulgently and returned to his work with Max.
Jake wanted to talk to each of the team members in private, especially Ellie, Flex, and Clay. He needed to repair the rift between them before the team competition. Since it wasn’t his nature to intrude on problems of a personal nature, the task would not be an easy one.
Jake was considering what approach to use when the phone rang. Praying nothing else had gone wrong, he crossed the floor of his hotel room toward the nightstand and picked up the receiver.
“Good morning,Tovarich.” The raspy sound of Popov’s voice set his nerves on edge. It was an eerie gift the man used to perfection.
“Perhaps it’s good for you,” Jake said.
“Do I hear a touch of bitterness, Comrade? Surely, I am mistaken.”
Jake quelled the sudden urge to laugh. Popov was destroying his life, yet he spoke as casually as if they were friends.
Jake’s hand tightened on the phone. “I need to know what you want. Just tell me—and leave my people alone.”
He heard Popov’s irritating chuckle. “On Tuesday you will be in Dublin. At two o’clock you will go to the Bit O’ Dublin Tobacconist Shop on Molesworth Street near Dawson. There you will receive instructions—precise instructions as to what we wish you to do. You are to follow those instructions to the letter. You will receive your final directions the following week. When you have completed your assignment, your obligation to us will have been fulfilled.”
“That’s it?”
“Does it not sound easy?”
“Too easy.”
“Oh, andTovarich,one more thing. Should you decide to amend those instructions or divulge them in any way, your Mrs. Delaine and her daughter will pay, along with your mother and sister.”
Jake closed his eyes against a rush of despair. This was his fault. He should have kept Maggie out of it, found a way to keep her and Sarah safe. “I barely know them.”
“Do you take me for a fool? We knew of your affair with the woman. Until your small...indiscretion...the other night, we assumed the relationship was nothing of importance. We were wrong, it seems. But you needn’t worry. I am certain you plan to cooperate.”
