He dipped his head and swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting chocolate. She sighed, and his dick lifted its sleepy head. Reluctantly, he pulled away, but not before he brushed his fingers against her soft cheek.
“That guy is my contact,” he whispered. “He has our instructions for the next leg of the journey.”
“Are you sure he’s not planning to threaten you too?”
Brett smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure. Smile, Tiff. We need to look happy. We’ll be out of here in twenty minutes.”
It was growing dark by the time they pulled up to a chalet-style house somewhere in Bavaria. The house was beautiful. The bottom half was white, with wooden shutters on all the windows, while the top half was dark timber. There were shutters on the windows, and a wooden balcony running across the front. The roof was peaked, and ornate wood carvings that resembled fancy icicles hung from the roof at regular intervals.
The house perched on the side of a mountain above a village. Tallie stepped out onto the snowy drive and gazed at the warm yellow lights below.
Jagged mountain peaks surrounded them, though it was so close to dark that she couldn’t really make out the extent of the mountains.
Tallie shivered. The jacket she wore wasn’t quite up to the higher altitudes and colder temperatures of Bavaria. Brett stood on the driver’s side of the car, staring up at the house. He turned in time to see her shiver.
“Shit, let’s get inside,” he told her. “I’ll come back for the bags.”
She shut her door and followed him over to the wooden entry. He inserted the key. It’d been inside an envelope in the car when they’d picked it up in the Brenner Pass. The lock snicked softly and the door swung inward.
He held out a hand to stop her from crossing the threshold, reaching inside his jacket to draw his weapon. “Stay behind me.”
She followed him inside. It didn’t take him long to make sure no one was waiting for them. Tallie was still standing by the door when he returned and shoved his weapon into the holster.
“It’s safe. Why don’t you check and see what they’ve left us to eat.”
He went outside to retrieve their bags and Tallie walked into the kitchen. There was a large picture window overlooking the snowy landscape, and she was momentarily caught by it. What would it look like in the morning when she could really see the view?
Tallie opened the refrigerator and found it stuffed with food. There was also a microwave, a big stove, and a cabinet with pans and dishes. An envelope was propped against a bottle of wine.
* * *
Please enjoy, dear guests.
* * *
Brett came into the kitchen. She held out the envelope. He walked over and took it from her fingers.
“I’ll start a fire in a few minutes,” he said. “There’s plenty of wood and I’ve turned up the radiators on the lower floor.”
Tallie was still wearing her jacket. It was cold inside the house, but not freezing. “There’s a stocked refrigerator and pantry. We could have soup and sandwiches. I’m not sure what else yet.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He opened the envelope and removed the folded sheet of paper. His eyes darted across it before he raised them to her. “There’s a winter wardrobe in the closet upstairs. Second bedroom on the left. You should find some things to keep you warm, along with appropriate footwear.”
“Oh goody. I thought I’d have to spend all my time sitting near the fireplace while we’re here.” Tallie frowned. “Do you know how long it’s going to be yet? Did they tell you in that letter?”
“No. We just have to sit tight until I get further instructions.”
Tallie blew out a frustrated sigh. “I want to talk to my mother. Hell, I want my phone back so I can answer my emails and text my friends.”
He dropped the letter and put his hands on her shoulders. “I know, Tallie. I get it. But until we know it’s safe for you, you can’t be in contact with anyone. That’s just the way it is. Think of it like witness protection, if that helps. You’ve seen enough TV shows or movies where the witness has to leave their old life behind and start a new one? That’s you right now, except it’s not permanent. You get to go back, but not until we’re sure you’re going to be safe. Surely you can put up with the restrictions until then.”
He made her feel like a cranky teenager. Worse, he made her feel ungrateful. Tallie closed her eyes and dropped her chin. “Yes, of course.”
He rubbed her arms lightly. “You must be really close to your mother.”
Tallie snorted before she could stop herself. Brett’s hands stilled for a second.
“Sorry,” she said. “We aren’t close, but we love each other. And we’re all we have left now that Daddy and Josie are gone.” That wasn’t strictly true, she supposed. “She has a boyfriend, but it’s not serious—or at least not for her. They’ve been seeing each other on and off for the past three years. I doubt she’ll ever remarry, though Bill would certainly like her to.”
Brett didn’t miss a beat. “Would you?”
“Actually, yes, I would like her to marry Bill. Josie wanted it too. He’s a good guy. He might even get Mom to take some time for herself and stop throwing everything she has into the business.”
“Give you a chance to run it?”
Tallie arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever run Mary Claire Grant Interiors. I’m not good enough—but that’s okay. Mom is the business. And her reputation is stellar. If she spends a month or three in France every year with her new husband, she’d probably get more business, not less.”
He didn’t comment on her self-criticism. Perhaps because he didn’t know what to say. Or maybe it sounded whiny and he wasn’t interested. Tallie had an urge to apologize, but she didn’t.
“She sounds formidable,” Brett said.
“She is.”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped away. She tried not to feel disappointed. She liked when he touched her. Liked the warmth and the electric sizzle that buzzed beneath her skin when he did. He made life feel normal in those few moments. She craved that right now.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and make sure those radiators are on high enough? You can change into something warmer if you want. I’ll start a fire, and then we’ll figure out what to do about dinner.”
He started piling wood into the fireplace, his back to her. Tallie watched him, her stomach twisting into knots. She wanted to ask him to hold her, to make the demons disappear, at least for a little while.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t see any way to do that and make it sound like it wasn’t a proposition.
Brett waited until Tallie was upstairs and then he took out his phone and dialed. Ian answered on the first ring.
“Sonny boy, how’s the snow?” Ian sounded jovial. Probably a good thing for everyone because it meant there was nothing seriously wrong in the Bandit world at the moment. And a good thing for him because Ian wasn’t ready to kill him.
“White. Snowy.”
“How’d your Texas ass get up to that chalet anyway?”
“Very carefully,” Brett said. He might be from Texas originally, but he’d learned to drive in snow years ago. First time he’d found himself plopped down in the middle of Siberia with an ancient Lada and needed to get the hell out of there, he’d figured it out. His mission partner—who’d been from Alaska—had ended up dead. Brett hadn’t wanted to end up the same. “Did you pick Bavaria on purpose because you thought it’d be funny to send me into a blizzard?”
Ian snorted. “It’s not a blizzard up there. It’s snow. And it’s mid November, so what do you expect? Sunshine and balmy breezes?”
“If you’d sent us to Greece, sure. Why couldn’t it be Greece?”
“Not this time. Sorry.” Ian paused. “Calypso found you, huh?”
“She did. Scared the ever-loving fuck out of me too. How the hell did she manage it? It’s the fucking Brenner Pass on a random damned day.”
Ian sighed. �
�No idea. She’s a law of her own, I think. She doesn’t share everything she knows with those who hire her. But I tell you what, I’d sure like to find out how she knew where you’d be.”
He would too. It was almost psychic. Except he didn’t believe in that shit, so it couldn’t be that. Which meant the next most obvious thing was someone at BDI. Someone with loose lips. But that didn’t seem possible either considering how rigorous Ian’s vetting procedures were.
“You think there’s a weak link in the chain?”
Ian didn’t miss his meaning. “Anything’s possible. If there is, I’ll find it. And obliterate it.”
Ian Black wouldn’t put up with a traitor in his midst. Of that Brett was certain. “Do you think Von Kassel hired her?”
“No, I don’t. I think if he couldn’t afford to drop a million on Tallie Grant, he couldn’t hire someone of Calypso’s caliber to steal her away. That’s somebody else’s doing. The Syndicate, probably. They have spies everywhere.”
“I’m guessing Carter Walker’s cover is blown by now.”
“We should probably assume so.”
Brett closed his eyes. All that work. “Fuck. Sorry, boss.”
“Yeah, I know. I’d have probably done the same thing in your shoes. Doesn’t matter anyway because this is our new reality. We’ll move forward and deal with it.”
Brett didn’t know how Ian managed to be so stoic sometimes. But he did. He was the chillest dude Brett knew.
“What are we going to do about Brett Newport?”
“Mr. Newport’s dealings in military equipment aren’t a secret, so she could have picked the name up somewhere and then taken a wild guess. Still, it wouldn’t do to have anyone finding him and his new wife in Bavaria. I’ll have new documents to you in two days. The house is safe enough for now since we didn’t use that name to secure it. ”
“Roger that, boss.”
“How did she seem to you?” Ian asked.
Brett knew he wasn’t talking about Tallie. He thought about Natasha’s eyes. The sadness in them. The suppressed fury.
“Angry. Sad. But restrained. She had the advantage on me and she knew about the bounty. She could have taken me out and collected it. But she didn’t. She wanted me to pass a message to you, which I’ve done.”
“Yeah.” Ian sounded as if he wasn’t entirely happy about the message. Or maybe it was the way she’d sent it.
Brett knew what Ian had promised her. He only hoped Ian could deliver—because if he didn’t, Calypso was coming for him. She’d pick him off like a fly on the wall. Though maybe Brett was giving her too much credit. Ian would be ready, and the battle would be epic if it happened.
“She said she’d find you. How do you think that’s going to happen?” Brett asked.
Ian snorted then, and Brett thought maybe he’d had it wrong about the boss being unhappy or contemplative. “It’s not only a message, it’s an instruction. For her to find me, I’ve got to head out into the field again. Think I’m ready for action anyway. I’m tired of sitting at a desk and pulling strings. It’s been too long.”
Brett had done some dirty jobs in some serious hellholes with Ian Black. They all had. Ian was the kind of boss who got down into the trenches with you. And considering his talent with languages—he could speak over a dozen that Brett knew of—he was extremely useful during field operations.
But within the past few months, he’d gotten the opportunity to establish a headquarters with all the latest and greatest equipment—some of it even better than the military had—and he’d needed to be in Washington to do it.
“There are a million and one places you could go. How will she figure it out?”
Ian’s voice was filled with laughter. “She found you in the Brenner Pass on a random day in November. I think she’ll find me.”
Yeah, she probably would.
He heard Tallie moving around upstairs. “Gotta go and start a fire, boss. It’s cold here and my companion has about zero body fat to keep her warm. Any further instructions?”
“Nothing yet. Hold tight while I wait for intel on the situation and get your new documents.”
“Roger.”
“And Brett?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
“Always am, boss.”
The laughter was back in Ian’s voice. “I’m not talking about the mission, kid. Last operator to hole up with a woman ended up domesticated.”
He was talking about Jace Kaiser and Maddy Cole. Brett thought of kissing Tallie Grant, her sweet response to him when his mouth had settled over hers. How he’d wanted so much more.
But that was merely physical. He could handle physical.
“Not a danger, boss. Trust me.”
Ian laughed again. “Heard that before.”
“Yeah, but I mean it.”
Brett could still hear Ian’s laughter echoing in his ears long after the call ended.
Chapter Eleven
Tallie found a thick sweater and leggings, among other things, in the closet. There was a ski jacket, snow boots, and more leggings and shirts of varying thickness. There was enough stuff in the closet to last her for two weeks, which was both a little depressing and a little thrilling.
Thrilling because she’d be staying with Brett.
“Not a good enough reason,” she mumbled to herself as she changed into the warmer clothing. The room she’d been given was small, but cozy. The walls were half-timbered, white, and there wasn’t much in the way of decor other than the wooden beams. An old oil painting of a mountain and a chalet similar to this one. Maybe it was this one, she decided.
The bed was small, with a wood headboard and footboard, both painted with colorful Bavarian scenes. The duvet was thick and fluffy and solid white, and there was a chest of drawers beneath the dormer window with a ceramic bowl and pitcher.
The radiator creaked as steam filled it. Tallie touched it, satisfied it was working, and then headed downstairs. Brett had a fire going, though it wasn’t roaring yet. He wasn’t in the living room, though. The snap of a cabinet door told her he was in the kitchen.
He looked up as she walked in, his eyes dropping over her. “Warm enough now?”
“Getting there. What’s for dinner?”
“I just started looking. You said something about soup and sandwiches.”
Tallie went over to the pantry. “There’s canned soup in here, and bread. I saw some cheese in the fridge, so we could have grilled cheese.”
“Sounds good.”
She handed him the bread. “What kind of soup do you want?”
He peered over her shoulder to look into the pantry. He had to move closer to see, and she could feel his presence behind her, prickling the fine hairs on her neck. She breathed him in, smelling wood and smoke.
“The goulash looks good,” he said, his voice a rumble in her ear.
So close. If she turned, she could slip her arms around him and lay her head on his chest.
Not that she had any intention of doing so.
“Looks good to me too.” She grabbed the can and Brett stepped away as she turned around. She went looking for a pan while he rummaged in the refrigerator for the cheese and butter.
Twenty minutes later, they were seated on the floor in front of the fire, eating grilled cheese sandwiches and soup from big mugs that they’d placed on the small coffee table. The rug they sat on was thick, and the fire warm. Tallie felt like she was finally thawing out.
It was getting colder back home, but it was nothing like the Alps. Williamsburg could get very cold, and they even had snow some years. But not typically this early in the season. It was nearly three weeks until Thanksgiving, and temperatures back home were brisk but not unbearable.
Thoughts of Thanksgiving made her anxious as she considered how this one was going to be different. And not just because she might not make it home in time. Last year, Josie had still been alive. The accident happened a week after Thanksgiving when she’d been d
riving home from a client’s house late one night and got hit by a distracted driver. A woman texting a friend when she should have been watching the road.
“Hey,” Brett said, and Tallie’s gaze snapped to his.
“Yes?”
“You look upset.”
Tallie took a sip of the wine he’d poured for her. “I was thinking about my sister.” She cleared her throat because it sounded scratchy. “The anniversary of her death is coming. A week after Thanksgiving.”
“Aw, hell. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. This is the first Thanksgiving without her. I was hoping to be home for it—though I imagine it’s going to be hell anyway. If Mother had a favorite daughter, Josie was it.” Tallie slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I said that. Josie is dead, and it’s not about me at all.”
Brett sat with one knee bent and his arm draped over it, wine glass in hand. He didn’t look horrified by her outburst.
“It is about you. Because it’s your experience, not anyone else’s. You’re allowed to feel what you feel. It’s not a betrayal to her memory, you know.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Are you sure about that? Because it feels very selfish to resent all the ways in which she was better than I was. It wasn’t her fault.”
“You’re human. We resent people who seem to be able to do the things we want to do so much easier than we can.”
“I didn’t resent Josie,” she said, swiping beneath her eyes. Feeling like a jerk. “I really didn’t. I just resented that Mom always seemed to approve of everything she did while nitpicking what I did. And she really was that good when it came to design in particular. But I just wanted Mom to approve of something I did, just once, the same way she did with Josie.”
“What about your dad? What did he think?”
Tallie couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, Daddy pretty much showered us with equal attention and love. He praised the ugliest craft projects we made when we were kids as if they were Van Goghs. Josie’s were better, but Daddy didn’t say that. Probably because Mom often did.”
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