Read Without a Trace for Free Online Page A

have a spare. Take it or leave it.”
    “It’s unhygienic.”
    “Yeah, but then, so’s kissing if you do it right.”
    Gillian took her clothes and retreated to the bath without commenting.
    She felt almost human when she came out again. Her hair was damp, her clothes were wrinkled, but the scent of food and coffee brought a very healthy pang to her stomach. He was already eating, poring over the newspaper as he did so. When she moved to join him, he didn’t bother to look up.
    “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
    “This is fine,” he told her over a mouthful of eggs.
    “I’m so glad,” she murmured, but the sarcasm bounced off him without making a dent. Because her hunger was urgent, she applied herself to her own plate and returned the compliment by ignoring him.
    “They make it sound like it’s only going to take a couple of nice chats to ratify the new SALT Treaty.”
    “Diplomacy is essential in any negotiation.”
    “Yeah, and—” He looked up. He knew exactly what it felt like to take a hard fist in the solar plexus. He knew how the body contracted, how the air vanished and the head spun. Until now he hadn’t known he could experience the same sensation by looking at a woman.
    Her hair curled damply past her shoulders, the color of a flame. Her skin was ivory, touched with a rose brought back by rest and food. Over the rim of her cup her eyes, as deep and rich a green as the hills of Ireland, looked into his questioningly.
    He thought of mermaids. Of sirens. Of temptation.
    “Is something wrong?” She was nearly tempted to reach out and take his pulse. The man looked as though he’d been struck on the back of the neck. “Trace, are you all right?”
    “What?”
    “Are you ill?” Now she did reach out, but he jerked back as if she’d stung him.
    “No, I’m fine.” No, he was an idiot, he told himself as he lifted his own coffee. She wasn’t a woman, he reminded himself; she was his ticket to an early retirement and sweet revenge. “We need to clear up a few points. When did they snatch your brother?”
    Relief came in a tidal wave. “You’re going to help me.”
    He smeared more butter on a piece of toast. “You said a hundred thousand.”
    The gratitude in her eyes dulled. The warmth in her voice cooled. He preferred it that way. “That’s right. The money is in a trust fund that came to me when I turned twenty-five. I haven’t needed it. I can contact my lawyer and have it transferred to you.”
    “Fine. Now, when did they take your brother?”
    “Six days ago.”
    “How do you know who took him and why?”
    It didn’t matter that he was a mercenary, she told herself, only that he would save her family. “Flynn left a tape. He’d been recording some notes when they came for him. He left the tape on, and I suppose no one noticed during the struggle.” She pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment. The sounds of the fight had come clearly over the tape, the crashing, the screams of her niece. “He didn’t go easily. Then one of the men held a knife to Caitlin’s throat. His daughter. I think it was a knife because Flynn said not to cut her. He said he’d go quietly if they didn’t cut her.”
    She had to swallow again. The breakfast she’d eaten with such pleasure rolled toward her throat. “The man said he’d kill her unless Flynn cooperated. When Flynn asked what they wanted, he was told he was working for Hammer now. They instructed him to bring all his notes on the Horizon project. Flynn said … he told them he’d go with them, he’d do whatever they wanted, but to let the child go. One of the men said they weren’t inhuman, it would be too cruel to separate a child from her father. And he laughed.”
    Trace could see what this was doing to her. For both their sakes, he offered her no comfort. “Where’s thetape?”
    “Flynn’s housekeeper had been at the market. She found the mess in the laboratory when she got back, and she phoned the police. They