Without a Trace by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

pyramids.”
    “I have my moments.” In truth, he’d always been fascinated by such things. He’d spent two months in Egypt and Israel using a cover as an anthropology major early in his career. It had given him a taste for both history and danger. “We should be able to pull this off, and soak up the atmosphere, as long as you follow orders.”
    “I agreed, didn’t I?” Even with the thin buff-colored blouse and slacks she wore, the heat was irksome. Gillian concentrated on it rather than the anxiety that was gnawing at her gut. “What if they’re armed?”
    Trace took his eyes off the road long enough to shoot her a grimly amused look. “Let me worry about that. You’re paying me to handle the details.”
    Gillian lapsed into silence again. She must be mad, she thought, trusting her life and the lives of her family to a man who was more interested in money than humanity. Taking another swig of warming lemonade, she tried to comfort herself by remembering what Charles Forrester had said of Trace.
    “A bit of a renegade, and certainly not a man who would be considered a good team player. If he was, he’d be running the ISS by now. That’s how good he is. If you want a man who can find a needle in a haystack—and you don’t care if the hay gets a bit mangled in the process—he’s the one.”
    “This is my brother’s life, Mr. Forrester. And the life of a little girl, not to mention the possibility of nuclear repercussions.”
    “If, out of all the agents I’ve worked with, I had to pick one to trust my life to, it would be Trace O’Hurley.”
    Now she was trusting her life to him, a man she’d known less than twenty-four hours. He was crude and more than a little rough around the edges. Since she’d met him, he hadn’t offered one word of sympathy about her family, and he hadn’t expressed more than a passing interest in a formula that could change forever the balance of power in the world.
    And yet … there was the quietly supportive way he’d slipped an arm around her waist when she’d been staggering with fatigue.
    Who was he? A quick bubble of panic started in her throat as the question finally broke through. Who was this man she was trusting everything to?
    “How long have you been a spy?”
    He looked at her again, then back at the road, before he burst out laughing. It was the first time she’d heard the sound from him. It was strong, careless, and more appealing than she’d counted on. “Honey, this ain’t James Bond. I work in espionage—or, if you like a cleaner term, intelligence.”
    Unless she was mistaken, there was a trace of bitterness there. “You didn’t answer my question.”
    “Ten years, more or less.”
    “Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why are you in this kind of work?”
    Trace punched in the cigarette lighter and ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him he’d been smoking too much. “That’s a question I’ve been asking myself lately. Why physics?”
    She wasn’t foolish enough to think he cared. It was simply a way to switch the conversation away from himself. “Family tradition, and I had a knack for it. I was all but born in a laboratory.”
    “You’re not living in Ireland.”
    “No, I was offered a position at Random-Frye. It was an excellent opportunity.” To finally slip out from under her father’s shadow.
    “Like the States?”
    “Yes, very much. At first it seemed everything moved faster than it should, but you find yourself catching up. Where are you from?”
    He pitched the cigarette out into the road. “Nowhere.”
    “Everyone’s from somewhere.”
    His lips curved at some private joke. “No, they’re not. We’re nearly there. Want to go over anything?”
    Gillian drew a long, steadying breath. The time for small talk was over. “No.”
    The parking lot was half-full. When the winter season got under way, the ruins, less than a two-hour drive from Cancun, would do a brisk business. With his camera slung over his