Dateline: Kydd and Rios Read Online Free PDF Page A

clear, so right, when he’d called the embassy. And now it all felt horrible, heart-wrenchingly horrible. His shoulders sagged in defeat.
    Big boys don’t cry
. He tried another hopeless cliché and hung his head down, sighing heavily. If he started to cry, he’d know he’d had too much to drink. But he didn’t feel drunk, not even close. The stricken look on her face would probably keep him stone-cold sober until he was ninety.
    Raking a restless hand through his hair, he allowed himself to consider other options. He could go to her and explain. Go to her and apologize. Go to her and—and tell her that her leaving was for the best . . . how much he cared. . . . Tell her how many nights he’d lain awake thinking of her, of the two of them. . . . Tell her he loved her, and hold her and kiss her until she believed him—and he lost his mind.
    His thoughts tangled around one another until he was back in his original, overheated frame of mind. He shook his head, as if physical motion could clear away the images, but the action was useless.
    With a groan of disgust, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. After she left, maybe he would fly down to Costa Rica for some rest and relaxation, take a vacation away from chaos. Maybe he’d find out if time really was the great healer. What was the other thing people said? Absence makes the heart grow fonder—of someone else. There was a woman in Costa Rica, a dark-haired, sloe-eyed beauty who’d made her desire obvious. In more ways than one, Nikki had put a damper on his sex life. Maybe he’d go find Gabriella what’s-her-name and lose his hurt inside her.
    Yeah, sure, he thought. Great idea. You’re full of them, Rios. His mouth slowly tightened in pain, and his eyes squeezed shut. The mere thought of loving someone else left him feeling emptier and more alone than before.
What have you done, you stupid son of a bitch?
    Guilt and sadness overwhelmed him and he was helpless against his longings. He knew what he’d done. He’d thrown away the best thing ever to happen to him, and he couldn’t let her leave feeling abandoned and betrayed. He couldn’t. The year they’d shared deserved better than the bitterness she’d find to hide her pain.
    He opened his eyes and let his gaze drift to the second floor of the hotel. Light shone through the slats of the shutters on the far left window, Nikki’s window. Oblivious to the activity around him, he watched and waited, and soon her shadow passed into the light. Slight and fragile, her profile hung high above him in the night, hinting at her bowed head and the slender curves of her body. His fingers curled into a fist, a tight hard knot echoing the heaviness weighing down his heart.
    Their time together was over. The good times, the bad times, the fighting and the running, the early morning strategy sessions, and the late night celebrations—all of them were gone. But if he reached out to her once more in friendship, maybe they could salvage the best of what they’d been.
    He looked down at the tequila and reached for it, then hesitated, the sober part of him doubting his motives. Raking both hands through his hair, he held his head and struggled to put his crazy feelings in order. A wasted moment later he picked up the bottle and his glass. They’d finished a few bottles together when a story had gone bad or a source had washed out. One more bottle, shared in misery, would be a fitting end. Motives be damned. They were friends.
    Walking toward the lobby, he felt a wry but weak smile curve his mouth. He’d nursed her through a few hangovers. She was a pushover when she could barely open her eyes and her head was pounding like a steel band. All in all, he’d be saving everybody, from the embassy jerk to the flight attendants, a lot of trouble if he cooled her jets before they tried to get her on the plane. Fresh, rested, and spitting mad, she might easily give them the slip—and the last thing he wanted on his