by Geri Krotow
“That smells incredible. I didn’t know you cook—” She froze in place in front of the island, her mouth agape at the spread of spanakopita, freshly chopped Greek salad with creamy feta dressing, and skewered chicken and lamb.
“You went to Greek Delight!” She regained her composure and reached for the foil packet he’d pulled out of the takeout paper bag. “These toasted pitas are the best.”
“You said you liked Greek, so I thought I’d treat.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you told me that all of my living expenses were paid for by Trail Hikers. For the duration of your case.”
He cleared his throat. “They are. It is.”
“But you paid for this out of your pocket?”
“I did.” Crap, the way she said it, combined with the quizzical way her brow arched, made it sound like he’d planned a date with her. Or something.
He opened his mouth to allay her misconception but was blindsided by her as she quickly reached up and gave him a sound peck on his cheek. Her lips were smooth and her hair sopping from the shower. The kiss was totally casual, but she may as well have scorched his cheek with a hot brand.
Portia didn’t notice that he was dumbstruck as she beamed at him. “Thank you so much. This is very sweet of you.”
Now she thought he was sweet. He fought a groan.
“You’re experiencing the hardship here, Portia. You’ve been grabbed from your regular life and forced to live in a strange house with no official deadline. It’s the least I can do.”
“All you have to do is say ‘you’re welcome,’ Kyle. Don’t worry, I’m not misconstruing it for something like a romantic gesture.”
“Good. I mean, good that we’re on the same page.” Hell, how had he gone from a man in charge of a huge secret government stakeout to sounding like a fumbling adolescent? Something about Portia brought out his full range of emotions. Feelings he was more comfortable neatly compartmentalizing and storing far away from the scrutiny of daylight. Or an inquisitive librarian.
“Let’s serve it up and enjoy it in front of the fire. It’s gotten really cold today—have you noticed it?”
“Heck yeah. I was waiting all day for the woman who’s targeted you to show up.” At her questioning glance, he continued. “Outside the library.”
“Let me guess, you were disguised as a homeless man, without the benefit of your better winter coat?”
“Something like that.” He helped himself to several of the lamb skewers and noted that she piled her plate with the salad. They took silverware and napkins and settled on the sofa.
“Here, let me clear my stuff up a bit.” Portia balanced her plate in one hand and shoved the papers away from where they sat.
“Don’t worry about it.” He set his plate in a clear spot and stood back up. “What can I get you to drink?”
“The sparkling water is fine. Thank you.”
When he returned with their drinks, he saw that she’d ignored him and cleared her clutter to one side of the cocktail table. She’d also switched on the fireplace, a gas insert. As he sat on the cushion next to hers, he knew that all too easily he could get very used to this.
“Is it always this cold in central Pennsylvania in January?” He dug into his food as he waited for her answer.
“Not this bad, no, but we get our share of bitter cold. This year’s been a little worse with the polar vortex deal.” She referred to the weather phenomenon that had the local meteorologists all abuzz. The air currents formed in a way that allowed pure arctic air from the North Pole to be channeled south, as far down as the center of North America. That included Pennsylvania, which was currently in a deep freeze.
“It has gotten colder today, by twenty degrees. This salad, by the way, is delicious. You were right.”
She eyed his tiny portion of greens, compared to his much larger stack of meat. “You didn’t trust my judgment, did you?”
“Hey, don’t be so defensive. Salad is known to be chick food. You can’t blame me for wondering if you’re big on rabbit food like a lot of women are.”
She shook her head and grabbed one of his chicken kebabs. “Vegetables are for everyone. And no, I’m not against heavier fare—you saw me polish off that sandwich last night, and I told you I love Buffalo chicken wings.”
“You did.”
They weren’t flirting; they weren’t talking about the case, or anything super weighty. And he was happier than he could remember ever being. His mind tried to grab onto what he’d used as his happy place, mentally, these past few years. It’d always been the hope of returning to California, to the year-round sunshine and much more reasonable weather.
But right now, the polar vortex–cursed Silver Valley, Pennsylvania, felt incredible.
* * *
Portia savored every last bit of the Greek takeout, almost as much as she did being so close to a man who made her feel things she’d not thought she was capable of. The great sex they’d shared almost a week ago was almost supernatural in its quality, no question. Yet sharing a meal with Kyle proved more intimate to her. As a single woman who spent so much time out of her apartment, working at the library or homeless shelter, she was used to quick meals, most of them alone. Breaking a pita with Kyle proved absolutely the sexiest thing she figured they’d done together.
Not that she’d tell him. By a silent agreement, they’d avoided touching one another since they’d given in to the very strong tension between them. That was still there, but they’d managed to sidestep it.
She was okay with that. Portia didn’t want it on her conscience that she’d distracted Kyle in any way from his ROC mission. It was bad enough that he felt he had to protect her by staying here.
“What are you thinking about, Portia?”
She sighed. Should she tell him? “I’m thinking that you’re going to ignore what I’ll say, but at the risk of repeating myself, you do not have to come back here each night. I know you go out to work at all hours, and driving up here has to be a pain. Your apartment is in the center of town, so much more convenient.”
He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, crumpled it and threw it on his empty plate. Leaning back into the sofa, he stretched his arms across the back of it and let out a long breath. “That is what I call good grub.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, which only made her more exasperated. “Did you even hear a word I said?”
Silver eyes, so intense, on her. The heat climbed up her throat and face, just like it did every single time he looked at her. He had to know how he affected her. Yet he never took advantage of it, which she gave him kudos for. “I hear every word, Portia. I hear how you take your showers, how you stay in the stall a while as you dry yourself off, then how you open the bathroom door to help let the steam out of the room. Do you want to know anything else that I notice?”
She swallowed. This was going off the rails again, too quickly for her. Their companionable meal was a safer space. Safe from the tantalizing memories of how it felt to have his hands on her...and his tongue.
Stop.
“No, that’s enough. I believe you.” She forced a smile before she stood up to clear the plates. His arm shot out and his hand gently circled her wrist. “Leave it. And I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep things cool between us.”
She sank back into the comfy cushion and faced him. “I appreciate that. It’s not easy living in such close proximity after we, ah, had the time we had the first day here.”
He watched her, but his arm was back at his side. “No, it’s not. I never want you to feel used, Portia.”
“I’m an adult. What we shared was mutual. Do you feel used?”
“No, ah, I... Yes, it was mutual.” She loved that she’d flustered him. “But I’m leaving Silver Valley after we take down ROC. Especially after I break up the heroin distribution and we capture Markova.”
&n
bsp; “Markova—that’s the woman who wants me dead?” His eyes answered, narrowing and growing angry. “Don’t be mad at yourself that you slipped her name, Kyle. I heard nothing.”
“It’s not something you needed to know, but yes, her name is Markova.” He rubbed his temples. “This case has turned into way more than I expected when I first heard of Silver Valley.”
“I know that. You’ve made your reason for being in what I’m sure you consider Podunk, USA.” She wouldn’t stop her defensiveness over Silver Valley. “I’ve seen a lot of the US, you know, and I travel overseas every summer for at least ten days, usually two weeks. There are plenty of other places I’d be comfortable living, but nothing compares to Silver Valley. It might just be a place you have to deal with while in the middle of a work gig, but it’s a source of great strength for a lot of people.”
“Whoa, I didn’t mean to get you riled up over this, Portia. I’m going back to California because that’s my home. Or it was, until I left for the Marines right out of high school. I get your devotion to this area, really, I do. It’s evident in everything you do, you know. From the library to the homeless shelter, to all the kids I saw you help out who were doing research for high school papers. And you’re terrific with the seniors who come in and have a zillion questions about technology.” He paused, and she watched in complete shock as he began to chuckle. “Do you know, one day I was hanging around the computers and I watched you help this one older gentleman order a gift for his lady friend at the senior center. He’d found out it’d be less expensive from an online retailer and you patiently led him through all the steps.”
“I had no idea you were there.” She remembered it as if it were yesterday, because the said gentleman was Mr. Nolan, the retired schoolteacher who’d taught her French classes through high school. He was a community pillar and he’d come in a few weeks before Christmas to order that particular gift. “You’ve been here since before the holidays? I know you told me that at one point—I just didn’t put it together until now.”
“Why would you?” His gaze was appreciative and she blushed. It was one thing to know she turned him on, but to realize that he’d seen her in her element, completely unguarded, was a bit overwhelming. “I was just another patron as far as you knew. No one you’d notice.”
But Kyle was a man she’d always notice. He had to be very good at his job if he’d escaped her observation until the train track rescue.
He nodded at her work, stacked on the end of the coffee table. “How goes the gala planning? Anything you need me to take care of while I’m out and about?”
“No way. I’d never ask you to do anything but what you’re here to do. Save Silver Valley from ROC.”
He looked at her like she’d missed something in their conversation. “Ah, you know that I’m just one of many law enforcement types working to make that happen, right?”
Another thing she’d picked up about him, as he’d held her in the shadow of the train that could have killed her: his sincere humility.
“Yes, but you’re the one who saved my life and for some reason feel responsible to make sure I’m safe, a week out. Josh has known me my entire life, and while I know he cares, as does Annie, he didn’t volunteer to check on me regularly.”
“Because he’s in uniform, and more visible in the community. He can’t send SVPD units out to patrol the area without raising eyebrows. We don’t want anything to appear out of the ordinary.”
She tore her gaze from him to watch the blue flames in the glass-covered hearth. Her body was too aware of him, but worse, her heart was getting in too deep with Kyle. With a man who was headed for the West Coast the minute the investigation wrapped up.
“Are we going to be able to have the gala?” She voiced her worst fear, as far as her community work went. The other anxiety, over never finding a man like Kyle again, someone who got her right from the get-go, she buried deep.
The cushions moved as he leaned forward on his knees to look at her. “I’m doing everything to ensure you can. But it has to be airtight as far as security is concerned. Why don’t we go over the plans together?”
Disbelief made her laugh. “You’re kidding.” She looked at him and sucked in a deep breath at the light in his eyes. Her heart reacted, too, making her feel as though she’d just run ten kilometers in the bitter cold. “What about a charity ball is interesting to you?” He worked in the most exciting profession she could think of. “There isn’t an adrenaline rush involved in planning a silent auction and dance for two to three hundred people, trust me.”
The lines around his eyes deepened, but he didn’t smile completely. “I’m not an adrenaline junkie, believe it or not. Sure, I’ve been in tight spots, but that was more likely when I was in the Marine Corps. My job as an agent involves a lot of watching, listening, waiting. And I read a heck of a lot of intelligence reports and criminal profiles. When I’m not actually in the field, I spend eight hours a day at my laptop, wherever I am.”
“So while the Trail Hiker headquarters is here, in Silver Valley, the employees don’t all work and live here?”
He shook his head. “No, not at all. The staff here exists to keep the agency running, to coordinate the missions.”
“And for Claudia to tell her bosses what’s going on.”
He didn’t reply to her comment—she didn’t expect him to. “I know that most all of what you do is very classified, and I’m not looking for information I don’t have a right to. I suspect you’ve probably told me a little more than I really need to know, right?”
“Maybe. Claudia wouldn’t have told you the basic premise of Trail Hikers, or my role in this particular op, unless she thought it necessary and that you are trustworthy. And don’t forget she had you sign the nondisclosure forms.”
“You already knew my background when you started surveillance on the library?”
“Yes. Which means, of course, that Claudia had access to the same information.”
“Does everyone in your office have access to these files on me?” She was all for supporting law enforcement and helping get rid of the bad guy, or in this case, woman. But having her most personal data out there was disconcerting. As a librarian, she understood the power of information.
“No, quite the contrary. I know you’ve never been in the military, but as with any government entity, release of classified material is on a need-to-know basis. So other than me, and my supervisor, no one else can read the files. Unless they start to work the same case, or something related to it.”
“That makes sense. And yes, I did know that. I regularly read several national newspapers, along with all the local press.”
“Yeah, a lot makes it into the papers that shouldn’t.” He raised a brow. “You probably don’t agree, as an information manager.”
“Actually I have no problem with the concept of classified information—as long as it’s handled that way for the right purpose.”
“There’s a lot more to you than a lot of people see, Portia.” His scrutiny had gone personal again, exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. Unless they were going to make this either a full-fledged fling, or Kyle was going to stay in Silver Valley after ROC was removed, she couldn’t let her heart go there.
Chapter 11
Kyle hated to leave Portia again the next morning, but she hadn’t seemed fazed. She’d all but shooed him out of the huge house, reassuring him that she’d be safe. It’d taken her no time to master the intricate surveillance system Trail Hikers had installed, but he never forgot who their adversary was. Ludmila Markova knew her way around the most sophisticated technology. His one solace was that he knew Trail Hikers had the best equipment the US government had to offer.
It was his job to protect her, no matter what Trail Hikers or SVPD policy was about providing personal security. Sure, he couldn’t stop his mission, but he could damn sure make certain Portia never faced M
arkova again. To ensure it, he had to get to the bottom of the case ASAP. Markova was the person with the answers as to how the heroin was getting into Silver Valley, and when. He had two objectives: take out Markova and break up the heroin distribution ring.
His first stop in town was to meet with Claudia at TH headquarters. He made certain he wasn’t followed and took precautions with his appearance. Winter and cold weather made it easier, with hats and hoods being commonplace. He entered the building with a card, then passed through three additional security checkpoints that included fingerprint, facial and retina identification. TH hadn’t utilized such strident measures during its initial setup, but as their adversaries grew more technologically astute, so had the agency.
“Hi, Kyle.” The receptionist tapped on his smart tablet and Kyle knew that Claudia had been informed of his arrival. “Claudia’s in a meeting but will be available in five minutes.”
“I’ll wait.” He took a seat in the minimalist but comfortable lounge area. Time with the director of Trail Hikers was precious and he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t need to.
After the exact time specified, he was escorted to her office and waited for the receptionist to close the several-inches-thick steel door behind him. The entire office building was a fortress, with the agents effectively working in vaults due to the classified nature of the Trail Hiker mission. They would assist international, federal, state and local law enforcement as needed, always maintaining complete anonymity except for the LEA personnel who were also TH. Trail Hiker agents avoided discovery at all costs. What the mission statement didn’t reveal was that TH only took on the most difficult and deadly cases, the ones that had to be stopped in their tracks immediately or monitored for the long haul, for the safety of innocent civilians.
“Kyle. Have a seat.” Claudia ran a hand through her signature gray hair, and her attractiveness wasn’t lost on him, even though she was twenty years his senior. At least. More importantly she was his boss, a fearless leader whom he’d been thrilled to work for when he first learned of the possibility. He’d never worked with Claudia while still a Marine, but her legacy to the Corps was inimitable. To the present day, Marine Corps Intelligence Officers were trained with techniques she’d perfected when she was still a junior officer, before she made General, and long before her retirement as a two-star.
