Because it was a break with routine, Quinn went to the concert. Nothing in her wardrobe was suitable, not after her spending sprees in Vienna. Off the rack dresses felt nothing like Armani.
At the same time, she didn’t have the energy to head out and buy something she would feel comfortable wearing. After all, who was there to give a damn? Certainly not her. Three days of deadly routine had flattened the enthusiasm which Dima had fired to life.
The music did not touch her, as usual. Quinn sat through the first half of the concert, her thoughts elsewhere.
If she could not help Dima with the Kobra, then she must start looking for a different life. She had no idea what that life might be, only that it would not be here in Boston. She might have to try on different lives, to find which one would fit. Thanks to Denis’s “life insurance” payout, she had time to figure it out.
She just didn’t have the drive to do it.
As the house lights came up, Quinn shuffled along to the aisle, intending to head for the washrooms, then snag a glass of champagne from the bar. Everyone in the concert hall was doing the same thing. She moved along the aisle in slow steps as everyone filed out.
Smarter people than Quinn were staying in their seats until the first rush died down. She glanced at them disinterestedly as she moved along the aisle.
She halted. Her breath stopped. Everything stopped, as she watched Noah get to his feet.
Hot and cold shivers slipped over her. Quinn reached out and gripped the back of the nearest chair and prop herself up. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t shift her gaze from Noah. If she looked away, when she looked back he might be gone—a product of her imagination.
Only, he was wearing a suit she had never seen before. He pushed against the tide of people and came up to her. “Are you alright ma’am? Here, let me help you out of here. I’ll find somewhere quiet for you to recover.”
He had no accent she could detect at all. Not even the mild middle-European one he’d had in Austria.
Quinn managed to nod.
He took her elbow and walked her down the aisle. Because of his size, no one jostled him. They moved out into the foyer and he led her to a spot under the stairs to the balcony.
Quinn looked up at him, trying to assess if she was seeing things. Had she mistaken some poor slob for Noah? What she so desperately in need she had conjured him up from nothing?
“Can I get you something? Water?”
“Champagne,” she breathed.
He nodded. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Quinn turned to watch him go, doubt gnawing at her. His voice was the same. Yet he had said nothing that a stranger would not have said.
The man she thought was Noah came back with two champagne flutes. He handed her one. “It might help put color back in your cheeks. You’re very white.”
“Shock does that to me.” She drank. It wasn’t the vintage champagne she remembered, but it would do. Carefully, she said with the polite tone of a stranger, “Thank you for your help. From a moment I was overwhelmed.”
“I’ve heard music can do that to people. I get shivers up the back of my neck.”
Quinn stared at him, her heart squeezing. She held out her hand. “I’m Quinn Sawyer.”
She waited, her breath held.
He took her hand, squeezed it a little and said, “Noah Bailey.”
His hand in hers. It was so familiar her heart ached. The fat man with the silver beard had made her remember everything about Noah—how he smelled, how he felt. Now she would never forget. This was Noah. It really was.
Quinn trembled. She wasn’t imagining this. But there were so many questions…
Noah drained his glass and put it on the nearest tall, narrow table. He glanced around with a casual motion. His gaze came back to her. “This might seem crazy, considering we just met, but how would you feel about blowing off the rest of the concert and having coffee with me?”
“I wasn’t enjoying the concert, anyway,” she confessed. Her heart lifted.
“Give me your coat stub and I’ll collect your coat for you.” He held out his hand.
Quinn gave him the stub and waited impatiently for him to return with her coat. As a perfect stranger would do, he did not take her arm or her hand. Instead, he waited for her to walk alongside him, as they headed for the doors.
The night was foggy and cold, the snow was thick and the clouds danced. The small moon and every light in the city reflected off the clouds and the snow, so the night glowed with its own light. It was one of the mystical, magical nights which Boston occasionally experienced.
“I don’t have a car here,” Noah said.
“Neither do I.”
“Taxi it is then.” He changed direction, so they walked toward the taxi stand. No one waited for a taxi. Also, there were no taxis. The spread of concrete in front of the concert hall was empty of people. It was too cold to linger.
“Oh, I forgot,” Noah said. He halted and dug in his coat pocket. “This is yours, I believe.” He held out his hand.
Lying on the palm of his hand was a soprano clef necklace. It was the one which Aslan had given her.
Quinn sucked in a breath which quivered. Overwhelmed, she threw her arms around his neck and trembled against him. “You took it from Mitchell. You covered for me. You saved my life!”
His arms came around her, just for a moment. He pushed her back. “Oh, hey, we’ve just met!”
Quinn pulled herself together. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I guess the music affected me more than I thought.”
Noah nodded. “Let’s get that coffee and talk.”
Quinn knew the coffee bar because it was only a few blocks from her apartment. She suspected it was not a coincidence Noah brought her to this bar. Because of the cold night, the bar had no customers. They picked the table farthest from the counter.
Noah took the seat beside her, not one across the table. He put black coffee in front of her, pushed sugar toward her, then sipped his own.
It thrilled her that he hadn’t asked her what she wanted. He had just known.
She broke open sugar packets.
Noah said, “By the way, Dima asked me to tell you that this is her getting back to you.”
Quinn jerked. Sugar sprayed across the table.
Calmly, Noah pulled another packet out of the tub and handed it to her. He brushed the sugar granules over to one corner of the table and wiped off his hand. “Don’t spill that one.”
Quinn rested her forehead on her hand for a moment, letting it sink in. “Were you with Dima all along?” she asked softly.
Noah shook his head. “A different unit, a different task force, not remotely connected. Noah Stojanovich bounced around from group to group across Europe for over three years. No one seemed to question that every time he started working for a different organization, not long afterward the organization suffered the most terrible luck. Raids, arrests and the group would be broken up. Then Noah Stojanovich would find employment with someone else.” He gave the smallest of shrugs. “When Noah met Aslan and was pulled into his group, contact with my field director was lost. I had been hanging in there for a year, trying to find a way to reach back to Langley. Then you came along.”
Quinn sighed. “I thought you resented me. For the longest time you wouldn’t even look at me.”
“Stojanovich would have resented at you.” Noah picked up a teaspoon and stirred his coffee, even though there was no sugar in it to dissolve. “I lived and breathed that legend for nearly four years. I was at the end of my stamina. It was time for Stojanovich to die. You gave me the bolt hole I needed.”
“So when you got Leela out of there, you arranged for Scott to pretend to shoot you.” Quinn remembered Dima speaking of Scott’s tricked-out rifle.
“More than that.” Noah shook his head. “Everyone was focused upon Leela and forgot to be suspicious of me. Leela told me her unit would move in on the warehouse now she was AWOL. Then I found Mitchell…”
His smile was grim. “He had your necklace caught up in his fingers. I took the necklace and his key to the warehouse. Finally, finally, I got inside the damned place and saw for myself the full shipment of Sarin precursors.”
“You blew up the warehouse!” Quinn breathed.
Noah’s smile was brief. “The benefits of an MIT chemistry education. The warehouse was full of explosive compounds. I set a fuse on the more volatile ones—those sitting farthest from the shipment—and got the hell out of there.”
“The shipment—it’s been confiscated?”
“I helped load the containers onto the American freighter which took it back to Virginia. Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“I followed you and Aslan to the Prater.” Noah drank. “I believe you remember how that went,” he added. His tone was casual.
Quinn rubbed her temples. She wasn’t interested in the coffee. “So now you are working with Dima’s group?”
Noah’s gaze met hers. “Dima told me about her conversation with you. That you figured out about the mole in her group as fast as she did. That’s why Dima arranged for me to be pulled over to her unit. Out of everyone in her unit, I’m the one person she can trust. And now, there’s you.”
Quinn jumped. “I haven’t said yes, yet.” She hesitated. “If I hadn’t asked Dima if I could help her, would you have ever let me know you were alive?”
Noah’s gaze didn’t quiver. “I was coming to see you, despite direct orders not to. They threatened me with criminal charges if I did, so I resigned. Then Dima pulled me to one side and proposed I come and join her group. I tore up the resignation, but only after Dima agreed to Noah Bailey bumping into Quinn Sawyer on a casual basis and getting to know her that way.”
“Noah Bailey,” Quinn said slowly. “That is who you are now?”
“I was born Noah Bailey.” His gaze was steady. “The man sitting before you is the real man, the one who lost his heart in Austria to the woman who saved his life. He has been terrified for weeks now that he only imagined Quinn’s feelings for him.” His voice took on a hoarse note.
She leaned closer and kissed him, no longer uncertain about this part of her life. He held her against him, almost drawing her from the chair. It was the sweetest kiss she had ever had.
Even after he let her go, Quinn leaned against him. “I still don’t know anything about you, except that you are Noah Bailey.”
“It works both ways, Quinn,” he said gently. “You were playing a desperate game of charades in Austria. I don’t know how much was truth, or what was lies. I don’t know anything about you, either, except that you are smart, a quick thinker, principled and your courage under fire is something I’ll never forget. I watched Aslan threaten you through the scope of my rifle and nearly lost it. That’s when I knew I loved you. Even though I didn’t know if a single detail about you was true, I knew the important things and they were enough.”
Quinn stroked his hand. “They are,” she agreed.
“Besides,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’ve unleashed a demon. Now I can’t stop listening to music. Mahler, tonight… It was the first time I’ve heard him. Now I can’t unhear the tune.” He tapped his temple. “It’s in here.”
Quinn sighed. “I haven’t been able to hear music since I got back.”
Noah turned her so she was facing him properly, so he could see her face. He picked up her hand and held it in his big warm one. “A highly intuitive, beautiful woman taught me to appreciate music in the space of an hour. She reached into my heart and plucked a chord and I have never been the same since.” He kissed her fingers. “Let me do the same for you.”
Quinn’s heart soared. “Please do.”
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The next book in the
Project Kobra series.
The next book in the Project Kobra series will be released in July 2019.
In the meantime, if you enjoy romantic suspense:
Dead Double
part of the Romantic Thrillers Collection
The woman he must now protect looks exactly like the one he once hated.
An Iranian physics genius in hiding wants to give the west his world-changing theories, but will only give them to Micky Wilde, whose beauty once charmed him. The only problem? Micky is dead. Logan Wilde involved his wife in his grim business and it got her killed. For Logan the guilt runs deep.
Sahara Taylor-Hughes is a San Francisco beachbum with a life and personality a million miles different from Micky’s caustic ways, but she is Micky’s double in appearance. Duped into playing Micky to get the plans, Sahara destroys what little peace Logan has left.
Zaram, a potent renegade terrorist, learns of the plans. He will hold the western world to ransom if he gets them first. Logan must help Sahara beat Zaram, collect the plans and make sure she stays alive, or else lose his mind…and his heart.
This romantic suspense novel is part of the Romantic Thrillers Collection.
Dead Again
Dead Double
Fatal Wild Child
Terror Stash
A world of palpable danger and political intrigue. Right from the very start the intensity seeps off the pages. Night Owl Romance
Get your copy of Dead Double now:
https://tracycooperposey.com/dead-double/
About the Author
Tracy Cooper-Posey is a #1 Best Selling Author. She writes romantic suspense, historical, paranormal and science fiction romance. She has published over 95 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.
She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year. Tracy won the award in 2012, and a SFR Galaxy Award in 2016 for “Most Intriguing Philosophical/Social Science Questions in Galaxybuilding” She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.
She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian Canadian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.
Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey
For reviews, excerpts, and more about each title, visit Tracy’s site and click on the cover you are interested in: http://tracycooperposey.com/books-by-thumbnail/
* = Free!
Scandalous Scions
(Historical Romance Series – Spin off)
Rose of Ebony
Soul of Sin
Valor of Love
Marriage of Lies
Scandalous Scions One
Mask of Nobility
Law of Attraction
Veil of Honor
Scandalous Scions Two
Season of Denial
Rules of Engagement
Degree of Solitude
Once and Future Hearts
(Ancient Historical Romance—Arthurian)
Born of No Man
Dragon Kin
Pendragon Rises
War Duke of Britain
High King of Britain
Battle of Mount Badon
Abduction of Guenivere
Downfall of Cornwall
Vengeance of Arthur
Grace of Lancelot
The Grail and Glory
Camlann
Kiss Across Time Series
(Paranormal Time Travel)
Kiss Across Time*
Kiss Across Swords
Time Kissed Moments
Kiss Across Chains
Kiss Across Time Box One
Kiss Across Deserts
Kiss Across Kingdoms
Time and Tyra Again
Kiss Across Seas
Kiss Across Time Box Two
Kiss Across Worlds
Time and Remembrance
Kiss Across Tomorrow
More Time Kissed Moments
Project Kobra
(Romantic Spy Thrillers)
Hunting The Kobra
Vistaria Has Fallen
Vistaria Has Fallen
Prisoner of War
Hunting The Kobra Page 28
