Matthew shot to his feet. A second later, he had her backed against the wall, his hands hard on her shoulders.
“Did he beat you?”
“No.”
“Abuse you?”
“No. Damn it, let go of me.”
“Is that the reason you became a thief?”
Mia’s heart tripped. She thought of the miniature computer disk, concealed in the compact in her purse, and the information it contained.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Give me a break, baby. Hamilton told me everything. He caught you using the embassy mail pouch to smuggle cocaine. He put his neck on the line, covering for you, and you repay him by running away.” His fingers bit into her flesh. “He doesn’t know the reason, but I do. You ran with a stash of coke.”
Did she laugh? Did she cry? Which was better, that Matthew think she’d stolen drugs…or that he learned that what she’d actually stolen would put Douglas Hamilton and a cartel drug lord in a federal prison forever?
It didn’t matter.
She couldn’t tell him anything. Besides, why would he give a damn? His job was to find her and bring her back to Cartagena.
No way was she going back. She knew, all too well, what awaited her there.
“Where is it? Where did you hide the dope?”
“Douglas lied,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “He told you that story so you’d find me and take me back, but it isn’t true. There are no drugs. I ran from him because—because he wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Matthew’s mouth twisted. “Those separate bedrooms,” he said softly. “Hell, who could blame him? You’re his fiancée.”
She swallowed dryly. Maybe the truth, as much as she could reveal of it, would work.
“I worked for him in the States. When I came to Cartagena as his personal assistant, he said he had a big house with lots of empty rooms, and that it would be simpler if I lived there.” Simpler for her to get the dirt on him, too, as the Agency wanted, but she wasn’t about to reveal any of that.
Was it true? Matthew’s eyes narrowed. It would explain the separate bedrooms, but he wasn’t born yesterday.
“That’s a nice story.”
“It’s what really happened. It was fine, for a while, but then—then he began saying things. Doing things.” That was the truth, too. Just remembering it made her skin crawl—and now, it was time to start embellishing the story. “I told him I’d report him.”
“And?”
“And, he said nobody would believe me. I’m a nobody. He’s an army colonel with a brilliant career record.”
Matthew let go of her and folded his arms. “So you decided to run.”
“Yes.”
“To take a little road trip through an area thick with bandits and insurgents.” A muscle knotted in his jaw. “Exactly what most women do, when their fiancés suggest a little hanky-panky.”
“Didn’t you hear a word I just told you? He’s not my fiancé.”
He smiled coldly. He didn’t believe her. Well, why would he? He was right. Taken at face value, her story was full of holes but what else could she tell him? She’d already come dangerously close to forgetting that he worked for a man who wanted what she had badly enough to kill her for it.
For all she knew, Matthew was toying with her. Good cop, bad cop. Nobody ever said that one actor couldn’t take both roles…especially if he discovered that his prisoner trembled at his touch.
All at once, everything came into sharp focus. The darkness, closing in around the house. The silence. The seemingly endless forest and mountains that separated them from the rest of the world.