Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(62)

“Yes,” she said. She looked inside her jacket, puzzled, and saw the St. Christopher’s medallion lying against her tee-shirt. She looked up at him.

“You know Nicolás, don’t you?”

“Yes, Miss Munro. He and I went through officer training together.”

“Gracias,” she told him.

“De nada.” He pointed to the door. “Your escort.”

Another soldier, this one without a machine gun, held open the door for her. She zipped up her backpack and followed him across the tarmac toward the legislative building. He took her around the back, slipping under the covered walkway and into the drive-through tunnel at the base of the building. The walls on either side of the tunnel were pierced by double doors and light spilled from them.

The soldier opened the right-hand door and waved her inside. Stairs ran up and down from the small foyer. He indicated she should go down the flight on the right. The corridor at the bottom was lined with anonymous doors featuring frosted glass panes. The floor was a sea of dark green linoleum, the walls a somber gray. The basement felt like every government building Calli had ever visited. That reassured her.

The soldier opened a door to a room, showing her a wooden table surrounded by four folding chairs. The wall on the right had a large expanse of mirrored window. The one-way kind, she assumed. There was no other furniture and the floor was the same dark green linoleum. The room was as soulless as a tax interview office. Almost cheerful, Calli sat on the table and dropped her backpack beside her. It was the first time she had felt safe for hours.

Two hours later, she still felt safe. Also bored and exhausted. No one had looked in on her. When she looked along the passage she saw no one. She considered going to look for people in case she had been forgotten. Then she remembered the officer in the gatehouse, his recognition of the St. Christopher medallion and knew she would not be ignored.

Forty minutes later Calli heard people in the passage outside and saw a shadow on the glass panel in the door.

She held her breath, her nerves prickling to the alert.

The door opened and Nick stepped into the room. He shut the door behind him and stood looking at her.

“Nick, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had any other choice. I’d have stayed away forever. It’s Minnie, Nick. She’s gone to find Duardo—”

He crossed to the table and she braced herself, wondering if he would vent his anger in closer quarters.

Instead his arms enveloped her and crushed her against him. He kissed her thoroughly, deeply, until her thoughts scattered and her body tingled with thick, warm arousal.

She groaned beneath his lips. He pushed her hat off and held her head in his hand and rained kisses on every inch of her face and finally her lips again.

“Sweet,” he said, his lips against hers.

“Nick—”

He made a small sound. “I dreamed of you whispering my name last night,” he said, his voice rough. “Just as you did then.”

Her heart gave a tiny leap. She had expected Nick to be angry when she stood before him. She had braced herself for it, even while in her heart, deeply buried, was the hope that he would be pleased to see her. She had not expected this. She had not dared hope he might speak of missing her, even indirectly.

“I dream of you. Still.” His voice was the gravelly one from her dreams, from the first night they’d met, and from every moment when he spoke of something close to his heart. His low rumble sent a shiver through her. She had not thought she would ever hear it again.

He spoke by her ear. “Two mornings now, I have woken in my lonely bed and cursed myself for wasting all the moments I had with you. I crave with an addict’s need for just one moment more. Just a single moment. Seeing you here, when I did not expect to ever see you again... I am weak, when it comes to you.”

She smiled. “Nicolás Escobedo and ‘weak’ are mutually exclusive,” she teased. “You just know what you want, that’s all.”

His arms tightened about her in response.

With her cheek against the soft cashmere of his dark sweater, she felt the beat of his heart and heard his breathing. His unique, masculine scent washed over her.

He let her go at last and stepped back enough to look at her face. He smiled. “I certainly didn’t think I would see you again, with all this madness around us.” He pushed a stray wisp of her hair off her face.

“It’s a horrible disaster, Nick. It hurts to watch. It’s all because of—”

“No!” He said it quickly and put his finger against her lips. “Don’t ever say it,” he said. “Not ever. What has happened, happened, and what will happen, will be. No regrets, no guilt. That’s what we agreed, remember?”

She nodded.

“Tell me about Minnie. Duardo. What has happened?”

Calli told him quickly. Just the facts. He would figure out the rest for himself. “You phoned him, Nick. You have the number. I can find out if she made it that far. It must have been his family’s house you phoned. That’s where she’d head, I think. If I could talk to her, arrange a place to meet her and pick her up, then...”

Nick shook his head. “Pascuallita has fallen. It’s in the hands of the rebels. Any resistance there is being dealt with. We can’t go in.”

“Then Minnie could not either,” Calli said. “What will happen to her?”