Winter's Secret

by Mary Stone

  He combed his fingers through her hair to grasp the base of her neck as he pulled away from the fervent kiss. His nose brushed against hers as he tilted his head back to peer at her.

  “Have you been drinking?” The softly spoken question was laden with amusement, but beneath the humor, there was concern.

  Breathing hard, she shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, but…I’m not drunk. I was nervous, and I had those shooters I got at the gas station earlier, so I drank one before I came over here.”

  He tucked a piece of ebony hair behind her ear. His breathing was still labored as he offered her a questioning glance. “You were nervous about talking to me?”

  “Because I didn’t know if you’d want to do this,” she blurted.

  With a quiet chuckle, he slid his free hand up the exposed skin of her leg to clasp her thigh. The touch sent a tingle of anticipation through her body. No, not just a tingle, a one-thousand-watt shock. If he could elicit such a visceral reaction with just a touch, she could only imagine what else he could do with that hand.

  As she pried her eyes away from the sight of his hand against the smooth skin of her thigh, his lips curled into the start of a smirk.

  He lifted one eyebrow. “If I’d want to do this? What’s this, darlin’? Make out on my bed in front of a rerun of Iron Chef?”

  Even if she had tried, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped her burst of laughter.

  She shook her head. “No, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”

  He kneaded his fingertips against the nape of her neck as his smile took on a knowing edge. “Then what did you have in mind? Sex? It’s all right, sweetheart. You can say it out loud. We’re both grown-ups.”

  Though she tried her best to look exasperated, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Do you ever stop being sarcastic?”

  His eyes seemed to glitter in the flickering light. “Nope.”

  Tightening his grasp on her neck, he pulled her into another impassioned kiss. His movements were more purposeful, and she offered no resistance as he guided her down to the bed. When her back met the plush mattress, he broke away from the kiss to trail his lips along her cheek.

  The warmth of his breath tickled her ear, and she felt the start of goose bumps along her arms. She snaked both hands beneath the fabric of his t-shirt to run her fingertips along the curves of his back. She’d seen him without a shirt once before, but at the time, she hadn’t permitted herself to let her gaze linger.

  This time, she would.

  As if he could sense her thoughts, he propped himself up to pull the shirt over his head. Without hesitation, she followed suit and tossed the garment to the floor.

  She took in a breath as her eyes settled on his shirtless form. His body might as well have been carved from marble. This sweet, charming, funny man from rural Texas was built like a Greek god.

  “My god,” she breathed. “You’re perfect.”

  His mouth curved into a smile as he leaned back in for another drawn-out kiss.

  Winter couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so enthralled by a man’s touch, and if she was honest, she didn’t think she’d ever been this enthralled by anything. The warmth of his bare skin against hers was blissful all on its own, but when the sensation was combined with his teasing caress, she was spellbound.

  When he pulled his lips away from hers and cupped her cheek with one hand, she snapped open her eyes to meet his gaze. Trepidation had edged its way in to compete with the lust on his face.

  She held her breath. “What?” The word was barely a whisper.

  Shaking his head ever so slightly, he propped himself up with an elbow as he ran his thumb along her cheekbone.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he finally asked. “I mean, I think you can tell by now that I definitely want to.”

  She reached up to run her fingers through his messy hair. God, she’d wanted to do that for so long. As she trailed her other hand down his bare chest, she pressed her lips against his in a light kiss.

  “I’ll put it this way.” She pressed her body harder into his, indeed feeling how much he wanted her. “If we don’t take off the rest of our clothes soon, I think I might lose my mind.”

  21

  Noah couldn’t remember the last time he woke up with someone in bed beside him. Even during his stinted two-week relationship with a waitress named Jessie, he couldn’t recall spending the night with her.

  One of them always found a reason to go back home after they had sex. Which, in retrospect, should have been his first indication that the relationship was headed nowhere.

  In the first few moments after he woke, he was convinced he hadn’t actually woken up. Until the cobwebs cleared from his thoughts, he was certain that the warmth of Winter’s body at his side was a figment of his imagination.

  Even if last night had been a dream, he couldn’t be angry with himself. If it had been a dream, it was a damn good dream.

  As the fog rolled away from his brain, he knew last night was real. Winter had actually visited his room to apologize. From there, one thing had led to another, and here they were. To emphasize the point to himself, he tightened his grip around her bare shoulders.

  She let out a light moan and shifted her head where she had nestled her face in the crook of his neck.

  Yep. She was real.

  Sure, they’d fallen asleep together before after watching lengthy television marathons, but they had always awoken fully clothed.

  As best as he could tell without reaching down to check, neither of them wore a single article of clothing. And if that wasn’t enough proof, the faint sting of scratch marks along his back was yet another reminder.

  Though he wanted nothing more than to let himself drift off to sleep again, he had a sinking feeling that an alarm would soon snap them both out of the blissful, relaxed stance. He’d drawn the heavy curtains over the picture window the night before, but as he opened his eyes, he spotted a sliver of light in his periphery.

  Winter’s long hair was splayed over his chest like a handful of ebony ribbons. Her dark lashes twitched as her eyes moved beneath the lids in the throes of sleep. Her fair skin was smooth and unlined, and if it hadn’t been for the eye movements, she would have looked serene.

  To hell with it. He’d let the alarm wake her.

  The sooner she opened her eyes, the sooner they had to get out of bed. And the sooner they got out of bed, the sooner he would be overcome with uncertainty. Uncertainty about their future, uncertainty about her motivation for the nighttime visit, uncertainty about their friendship.

  Not to mention he’d just had sex with a fellow agent. He’d have to read the human resource manual to see if this could get both of their asses canned.

  To be sure, he didn’t regret it. Or, at least, he wouldn’t regret it as long as she felt the same way.

  When they had arrived at the hotel the night before, he’d been certain that their current position was the absolute least likely scenario for the next twenty-four hours. Even now, he couldn’t fully retrace the movements that had led them here.

  It had just happened.

  He let his eyes drift closed, and as his thoughts wandered back to the land of dreams, he all but forgot about the alarm that was set for seven-thirty.

  As the high-pitched chime sounded out, he felt like someone had reached into the dream world and violently yanked him back to consciousness. With a sharp breath, he sat bolt upright.

  In the first few seconds, he panicked as he struggled to remember where in the hell he was. Squeezing his eyes closed, he groped for the phone on the nightstand as he forced the cobwebs away from his thoughts.

  Winter’s grasp on his upper arm tightened as she groaned. “What time is it?”

  Slumping back down to the plush mattress, he heaved a sigh. “Seven-thirty.”

  Her eyes flicked open wide. “Seven-thirty? Aren’t we supposed to be at the office at eight-thirty?”

  He didn’t bother to h
ide the confusion from his face. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Dammit!” She flung the comforter to the side, and he caught little more than a glimpse of her porcelain skin as she hunched over to pick up her discarded clothes.

  He leaned forward to get a better glimpse of her ass. “I’m confused. Did I do something wrong?”

  Pulling the black shorts up her smooth legs, her eyes flicked up to meet his puzzled stare. “No. No, not at all. I just forgot to set my own alarm. I usually set it for an hour and a half before I have to be somewhere.” She paused to hold out a piece of her glossy hair. “You see all this, right? I shower in the morning, and it takes, like twenty minutes just to wash my hair. I mean, unless I want to leave half the conditioner in all day.”

  Female shit. He didn’t really understand so he just nodded like a good boyfriend should.

  Not that he was her boyfriend, he reminded himself quickly.

  “But, no, to answer your question. You definitely didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not familiar with this whole thing.” She gestured back and forth between them. “So, I don’t know. Is it tacky to say thank you? Or is ‘that was awesome’ more twentieth century?”

  Relieved to the marrow, he dropped back onto the pillow with a light laugh. “No, darlin’. That’s not tacky. It’s…unusual, but not tacky.”

  She shrugged. “Well, you know how much I like to stick out from the crowd.”

  He fixed her with a stare of feigned indignance. “A crowd? What the hell do you think I do in my spare time?”

  She snorted a laugh. “Oh my god. That’s not how I meant it. You’re ridiculous. But, seriously, I need to get in the shower, or we’ll be late for sure.”

  Though he expected her to offer him a quick wave before she turned to make her way out the door, she planted a knee at the edge of the bed to lower herself down to his level. Her hair tickled the sides of his face as she brushed her lips along his.

  With one hand, he clasped the base of her neck to bring her closer, but she tried to pull away. “My teeth…”

  Morning breath or not, he deepened the kiss, tightening his grip to keep her in this bubble for as long as he could.

  He’d never wanted to play hooky from work so badly before.

  When she separated from him with a groan of reluctance, her blue eyes seemed brighter. He hoped the glint of longing in those eyes wasn’t just wishful thinking. Biting down on her bottom lip, she slowly pushed herself back to stand.

  No, that glint hadn’t been his imagination.

  22

  Leaning back in the office chair, Bree tapped a couple keys on the laptop to bring up a video messaging app. She glanced from her phone to the screen a few times as she entered in Winter Black’s phone number.

  After some much-needed alone time and a good night of sleep, Bree was confident that her hunch about Eric Dalton was right. The man hadn’t shown up to ask for Noah’s help. He had come to Richmond because he wanted something from his estranged son.

  Though she hadn’t been able to figure out what that something was, she was sure enough in her theory that she’d brought it to Max Osbourne as soon as she arrived at the office that morning. After only a few seconds of contemplation, Max had nodded his agreement. They’d gotten word from Baltimore that the same trace evidence found on Drew’s clothes had been found in Natalie Falkner’s house and car.

  There was no doubt that Natalie had been taken by the same people who killed Drew, but she hadn’t been taken as collateral for a cash debt. Eric owed the Russians something much darker.

  Nothing else made sense.

  Why else would the Russians have brutally murdered one of their own? And she absolutely believed that, even in the end, they’d believed Drew had been one of their own. All her contacts in the Baltimore FBI office and the Baltimore PD alike hadn’t caught wind of Drew’s cover being blown. And if things would have been different, she would have heard by now.

  So, what was it?

  The Russians’ agreement with Eric to launder money through his wife’s yoga studio wasn’t sensitive enough information for them to kill a loyal soldier, even if he had been asking questions about the arrangement. They might have roughed him up to make sure he stopped sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but they wouldn’t have killed him.

  However, if their agreement with Eric Dalton involved more sensitive information, or information that was of dire consequence to them, then maybe the Russians would have thought to kill the nosy foot soldier.

  The more sensitive the agreement, the harsher the penalty would have been for snooping around to learn the specifics.

  And if the penalty for the curiosity was death, then the information must have been dire indeed.

  Just as Bree thought Winter didn’t intend to answer the video call, the screen flickered to life. Her damp hair was freshly combed, but the strands still spilled over the shirt of her white blouse.

  Bree offered her a smile and a little wave. “Morning. How are you?”

  Winter shrugged as she scooted away from the camera. She was in a hotel room, and only a sliver of light pierced through the gap in the heavy curtains at her back. “I’m good. How are you? You holding up okay?”

  At the concern on the younger woman’s face, Bree’s smile turned wistful. “You’re sweet. I’m all right, thank you for asking. Is Noah with you?”

  Glancing to her side, Winter turned the camera of her phone to face a rich wooden desk against the wall. With the chair situated at an angle, Noah had propped his stocking feet atop the polished surface.

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile as he raised a hand. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t realize how early in the morning it still was. Didn’t mean to interrupt you guys getting ready or anything.”

  Did the agent turn a little bit pink?

  Winter waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You’re fine. You aren’t interrupting anything. What’s up?”

  Protest too much?

  Forcing herself to focus back on the case, Bree tapped the edge of the laptop with an index finger. “It’s about the case.”

  Glancing over to Noah and then back to the camera, Winter nodded. “We’re all ears. Shoot.”

  “I don’t think Eric’s here because he owes the Russians money.”

  Winter leaned forward, clearly not missing the hidden meaning in Bree’s comment. “What do you think he owes them?”

  Bree yawned, not even bothering to cover her mouth. “I’m not sure, honestly. But whatever it is, it’s a big deal. And whatever it is, Noah, your father is in Richmond to get it from you.”

  A heavy silence enveloped their digital interaction before Noah finally nodded.

  “Something didn’t make sense about him being here,” Noah said. “Him here just to ask for help seemed farfetched, if I’m being honest. My sister and I talked about it the other day, and she didn’t think he was here just for help, either.”

  Bree nodded her agreement. “I think Drew found out what it was, and I think that’s why the Russians killed him.” Even just the mention of her old friend’s name was enough to make her stomach churn.

  “You think he wants something from me, and I’m inclined to agree.” Noah straightened in his chair and rested his feet on the floor as his green eyes met the camera. “I know I’m not officially on this investigation, at least not the part about Eric specifically, but I think I ought to be the one to ask him why the fuck he’s here.”

  Clenching and unclenching one hand, Bree gritted her teeth. “I think so too. Let me go run it by Max, and I’ll get back to you. We can have someone come up to Baltimore to take your place, and then you can come back here to help me deal with Eric’s stupid ass. Because, anymore, I don’t see your involvement as a liability. I see it as an asset. Anything we can leverage against Eric Dalton, we need to use it.”

  Noah’s mouth was set in a hard line as he nodded.

  She didn’t need to speculate on whether or not Max would agree.


  They needed to turn up the heat on Eric Dalton, and they needed to do it before anyone else got killed.

  The man wasn’t a victim anymore. He was a suspect.

  Swallowing the unexpected bout of nervousness, Noah turned away from the line to the Baltimore airport’s security checkpoint.

  Winter lifted a manicured brow. “Got everything?”

  He patted the pocket of his jacket to check for his phone. When he felt the shape of the device, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Though neither of them had given voice to the sentiment, there was an unspoken understanding between them that the case into Eric Dalton’s involvement with the Russians had taken a darker turn that morning. Whether that was the reason they hadn’t broached the subject of their night together or not, he wasn’t entirely sure.

  Well, no time like the present, he thought.

  Clearing his throat, he readjusted the travel bag slung over one shoulder. “So. Last night.” He sounded like an idiot. He knew it, but he couldn’t form a more eloquent sentence to save his damn life.

  Winter scanned his face, a smile in her eyes. “No regrets. Don’t worry about it, okay? Let’s figure out what’s going on with Eric, then we can be grown-ups and have a grown-up conversation.”

  His laugh sounded closer to a snort. “Good call, darlin’.”

  As the next few seconds ticked away, the only sound was the drone of the airport in the background. He still couldn’t come up with anything to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a moron.

  “Be careful.” Winter’s quiet statement snapped him out of the contemplation.

  Clasping her shoulder with one hand, he offered her a reassuring smile as he nodded. “I will. You be careful too, all right? And tell Weyrick I said hey.”

  She took a tiny step closer to him and reached up to squeeze the hand resting over her collarbone. “Will do. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

  With one more gentle squeeze to her shoulder, he nodded again. “You will. Take care, sweetheart.”