Spy Away Home (The Never Say Spy Series Book 10)

by Diane Henders

  Patience. Do not bite the phone in half from sheer frustration…

  “What kind of beard? What about the shape of his face? Skin colour? Any scars or tattoos? Unusual clothes?”

  “Uh…” Tom sounded crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Aydan, I don’t really know. He was just kind of… ordinary. He was white, I’m pretty sure. His beard was just ordinary, too, not really short or long, just in between. I don’t really notice clothes, but I think he was wearing jeans and kind of a grey jacket…”

  “What kind of jacket? You mean like a sports jacket?”

  “No, just a regular jacket. With a zipper,” he added as though that helped. “But it might have been beige or light blue. I’m a bit colour-blind.”

  Oh, for chrissake.

  My voice came out slightly strangled. “Okay, well, thanks for dealing with it, Tom. If it happens again, maybe you could try to get a description. If he turns out to be a stalker and I have to make a police report I’ll need as much information as I can get.”

  “Okay, I will, Aydan. I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention.”

  “It’s all right.” I stifled a sigh. “Well, I guess I better get back to work here. I’m putting in my new doors today.”

  “Do you need a hand? Those steel doors are pretty heavy.”

  I hesitated. The two pre-hung door-and-frame units were damn heavy, but I didn’t want Tom in the line of fire if another assassin showed up.

  But shit, if he’d already antagonized my enemy, he might be safer here where I could protect him.

  “Um… I could use a hand unloading them in about half an hour,” I agreed.

  “Okay, I’ll head over around a quarter after one, then. See you later.”

  “Okay, thanks. See you.” I hung up the phone, wondering if I’d just signed his death warrant.

  I hissed out a breath between my teeth. Too late to second-guess myself.

  And I only had half an hour take down my barricade of plywood and tear out the wood casing with its incriminating sprinkling of buckshot holes.

  I pulled out my crowbar and got to work.

  Promptly at one-fifteen my phone rang, making me jump. I dropped my crowbar and snatched the handset up from the porch beside me.

  The analyst’s tense voice slammed my heart rate into overdrive. “Incoming with shotgun from south, fifteen yards from back door and closing.”

  My Glock was already in my hand. As an afterthought, I jammed the phone receiver between my ear and shoulder and bent awkwardly to draw the trank gun left-handed from the holster I’d secured on my other ankle.

  “Six-two, one-seventy, short brown hair. Walking, looks casual.” The analyst went on reeling off data. “Veering east now, heading around the house to the front. Cowboy hat…”

  “Shit!” I ducked through the gaping door opening to flatten my back against the wall beside it. “Is it my neighbour? Tom Rossburn?”

  “Facial analysis still working. He’s rounding the front of the house now…”

  I raced for the basement, praying the facial analysis would return an answer before I either jumped out at Tom with my gun levelled or stepped out in front of an assassin unarmed.

  “Identity confirmed. Tom Rossburn,” the analyst said at the same time Tom’s voice called a cheery hello from upstairs.

  “Thanks,” I whispered into the phone, and stuffed my weapons back into their holsters.

  “Aydan! Hello! Anybody home?” Tom called. His footsteps paused in the entry above.

  “Hi, Tom, I’m in the basement! Be right up!”

  I took a slow deep breath, wiping my clammy palms on my jeans. My knees trembled so violently I wasn’t sure if I could make it up the stairs.

  After a few more moments I made the attempt. When I emerged on the main floor with my smile clamped firmly in place Tom eyed me quizzically, taking in my sweaty dishevelment.

  “You look like you’ve been hard at it already,” he said. “I could have come earlier.”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I was just prepping the opening.” I indicated the hole. “The old door was so cheap and light I could carry it to the shed myself, and I just finished taking the old frame and casing there, too. I wanted to be ready to put the new unit in place when you got here.” I nodded toward the back door. “But if you’re feeling left out, there’s still the back door to do.”

  “Sounds good.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s a good place to leave my shotgun?” He gave me his crooked grin. “After I promised to show it to your visitor, I figured I’d better have it with me. And it was such a nice day I decided to take a page out of your book and walk over.”

  “Over there in the corner’s fine. And thanks, I appreciate you coming over.”

  “Happy to help.” He placed the shotgun carefully beside the kitchen table and straightened with a smile. “I’m all yours. Let’s get started.”

  I nodded toward the tailgate of the truck. “Okay, cowboy, time to flex your muscles.”

  Shit, that had come out more flirtatious than I’d intended.

  Tom’s grin widened and a glint appeared in his eyes, but he turned toward the truck without comment. I drew a breath of relief that morphed into lustful appreciation of his receding rear view.

  Damn, nothing like a man in cowboy boots and well-fitting jeans…

  Only a few minutes later we had extracted one of the door units from the truck and stripped off its packing to stand it next to the opening in the wall. I had managed not to embarrass myself with any double entendres or conspicuous drooling, and I was beginning to relax when the phone rang again.

  Pouncing on it, I snapped, “Hello!”

  “Hi, Aydan. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Kane’s warm baritone somehow managed to both relax me and wind me up tighter.

  “Uh, no, that’s okay. I was just, um… working on my front door,” I stammered.

  “Oh, good. I’m on my way home from Calgary. I’m just coming up to your turnoff and thought I’d drop by if you’re not too busy.”

  “Oh. Um…” I swallowed. “Okay…” I hesitated, wondering if I should mention Tom’s presence, but it was already too late.

  “See you soon, then,” Kane said, and hung up.

  I stood there holding the phone to my ear, my mind whirling. This wasn’t going to end well, I just knew it…

  “Is everything okay?” Tom asked.

  “Um… yeah. That was John. He’s on his way over. Should be here in a few minutes.”

  “John Kane?” Tom’s eyes narrowed.

  Oh hell, here we go…

  “Is that who you meant when you said you were seeing someone?” Tom asked.

  “Um, yeah.” It seemed like the simplest answer.

  “Oh.” His suddenly stiff shoulders radiated waves of disapproval. “You don’t seem very happy that he’s coming.”

  “Of course I’m happy; I just know you don’t like him so I’m feeling uncomfortable,” I half-lied.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I like him or not.” The corded muscle in his forearms rippled as his hands closed into fists, then released. “I just want to be sure you’re safe. And happy.”

  “Thanks, Tom, I appreciate that…”

  The sound of approaching tires on gravel made me trail off, and we stood in silence while Kane’s shiny black Expedition turned into the drive and stopped at the gate. I waved as he got out to swing the gate open, but he didn’t return the salutation. My hand drifted down again as he got back in the SUV and drove it through the gate, then returned to close it behind him.

  I mumbled, “Shit, I must have forgotten to lock the gate.”

  Of course I’d forgotten. I had freaked out at the sound of Tom chopping wood and jumped back in my truck without closing the padlock. Dammit, I couldn’t afford that kind of carelessness…

  “Do you want me to tell him to leave?” Tom asked.

  I blinked, realizing he had ducked back into the house to retrieve his shotgun, which was now cradled comfortably in
the crook of his elbow.

  “No! No, of course not,” I said as the Expedition pulled to a halt in front of us. “I didn’t mean I was trying to keep him out, I was just annoyed with myself because I forgot to lock the gate.”

  Kane swung out of the driver’s seat, sparing a single glance at Tom before focusing a gaze like grey lasers on me. He strode up the walk and took the stairs in an easy bound.

  “Aydan,” he said in a tone of deep satisfaction.

  Before I could respond, he swept me into his arms and kissed me.

  Chapter 14

  It was not a quick platonic peck. Kane’s fingers wound into the hair at my nape, positioning my mouth where he wanted it while he devoured my lips like a starving man. Despite the discomfort of Tom’s presence, warm tendrils coiled into my belly and weakened my knees.

  Kane pulled away at last and smiled down at me, ignoring Tom entirely.

  “Uh… hi,” I stammered. “Welcome home…”

  I shot an anxious glance at Tom’s rigid posture. His lean powerful six-foot-two seemed much smaller beside Kane’s massive musculature and two-inch height advantage, but I sensed his readiness to fight nevertheless. Testosterone smoked in the air.

  Then Tom gave me a stiff nod. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Give me a call if you need anything, Aydan.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I said faintly, but he was already striding away.

  When he disappeared around the corner of the house I turned to face the small smile tugging at Kane’s lips.

  “What the hell was that?” I demanded.

  His smile widened. “I was glad to see you.” The smile grew predatory. “And I wasn’t in the mood for a pissing match.”

  “So you just whipped out your big honkin’ fire hose and sprayed down the whole place,” I snapped, caught between irritation and amusement.

  Kane grinned. “I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said complacently. “Thank you.”

  Amusement won. I laughed. “Think rather highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  A wicked spark kindled in his eyes. “You’re the one who called it a fire hose. And you should know.”

  “Uh… yeah…” I licked suddenly-dry lips.

  The spark in his eyes flared hotter as his gaze locked onto my mouth. “Ahhh.” His rumble of satisfaction vibrated all the way from my ears to my toes, stimulating some very interesting places in between.

  “I missed you,” he said, and reached for me.

  Expecting one of his incendiary kisses, I was surprised by the gentleness of his touch. Holding me close and smiling down at me, he stroked back the wisps of hair that had escaped my ponytail.

  He smiled. “Finally.” The word came out on a breath. “A chance to be alone with you when we have time and safety…”

  His lips were descending toward mine when I came to my senses.

  “Shit!” I jerked back. “It’s not safe!”

  I tried to pull him through the door opening, but he was already lunging toward me. He slammed into me as I stepped back and my foot caught the edge of the doorway. We crashed to the floor and I lost track of which way was up as he rolled us around the corner, fetching up against the wall with a thump. Pinned by the weight of his protective body, I blinked up at his taut features as he snapped a look around us, his pistol at the ready.

  “Uh… I mean… we’re not in immediate danger,” I amended weakly. “I just meant, um…” My voice died in my throat at the intensity of his gaze.

  “What is it, Aydan? Tell me!” He hadn’t holstered his Sig, and steel-cable tension thrummed through the length of his body.

  I eased out a breath. Speaking of overreacting in non-lethal situations…

  “John,” I said gently. “We’re not under attack.” Honesty compelled me to add, “At least not at the moment.” I smoothed my palm over his cheek. “Put your gun away and let me up, and we can talk about it, okay?”

  He stared down at me for a long moment. Then he relaxed and let out a long breath, easing down to rest his forehead against mine.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  I hugged him before letting go to give him a gentle push. “It’s okay. Now could you please take your knee out of my crotch? There are some sensitive bits down there that I’d really prefer un-smushed.”

  He rolled to his feet and extended a hand to help me up, the wicked humour rising in his eyes again. “I could kiss the sensitive bits all better.”

  I gulped, suddenly breathless.

  He sobered and holstered his Sig. “But not until you tell me what’s wrong. What exactly did you mean by ‘we’re not under attack at the moment’? And if we’re not in immediate danger, why did you duck and cover?”

  “Sorry.” I rubbed my elbow where a bruise was beginning to form. “I’ve got a bit of a situation going on here, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of on the porch. I was worried about the analysts watching our every move from the surveillance cameras. We could pass off that first kiss as a tactic to get rid of Tom, but anything more than that would be really hard to explain.”

  Kane shook his head, relaxing into a smile. “We don’t have to explain anything. When I requested my transfer off your project in December, I told Stemp why. He knows I have feelings for you. That would be a problem if we were working together, but we aren’t.”

  “Uh, don’t be too sure about that,” I said. “Stemp’s planning to assign you to my project again on Monday.”

  “Oh.” Kane looked momentarily nonplussed before his smile came back, edged with mischief. “Fortunately, I don’t officially know about that.” The smile dissolved. “Now, tell me about this ‘situation’.”

  “Oh. Um…” There didn’t seem to be much point in beating around the bush. “Somebody’s trying to kill me. Or maybe abduct me. We don’t know who or why yet, but some guy came through my front door with a shotgun the day before yesterday. That’s why I’m replacing the door.”

  Kane’s face hardened. “‘Came through the door’, meaning…”

  “Shot off the lock and kicked the door in,” I confirmed. “It was just his bad luck I was sitting here at the kitchen table reloading my Glock.”

  “Didn’t the analysts warn you?” he demanded.

  “They tried, but he was too fast. He had the combination to my gate lock so he let himself in without anybody knowing. Then he jumped out of his car, pumped a load of buckshot into the lock, kicked the door in…” I shrugged. “…and died pissing and bleeding all over my floor, the asshole. Fortunately Stemp let me have a cleanup crew this time.”

  “Any demands? Any other suspicious activity?” Kane was in full cop-mode, his expression shuttered.

  “Nothing yet. This guy was strictly small-time, so we figure it’ll take a few days for whoever hired him to figure out that he didn’t do the job and hire the next loser.”

  “Why aren’t you in a safe house?” Kane demanded. “You’re fresh off your last mission and you shouldn’t be dealing with anything of this magnitude until you’re cleared for active duty again.”

  I shuffled my feet. “Dr. Rawling kind of cleared me.”

  “Kind of…?” Kane’s eyes narrowed. “You lied in your psych evaluation, didn’t you?”

  “Um… not really…”

  “Dammit, Aydan!” he barked. “Those evaluations are for your own protection and everybody else’s, too! It’s your duty to be honest-”

  Defensive anger made my voice louder than I’d intended. “There’s more to it, all right? Just back off!”

  We glared at each other in silence for a moment.

  “Can you tell me about it?” he asked, his voice controlled.

  I hesitated. If he got up on his high horse about ‘duty’ he might rat me out to Stemp thinking it was for my own good.

  I matched his even tone. “There’s a lot of stuff going on, and I can’t give you the whole story right now. Sorry. You’ll just have to trust me.” The last sentence came out a little more challenging than I’d int
ended, and his shoulders stiffened.

  “Of course I trust you,” he said curtly.

  “Good!” Oops, that had come out pretty challenging, too.

  “Fine!” he snapped.

  We eyed each other across a few feet of floor that felt like the Grand Canyon.

  Kane let out a breath. “Look, Aydan, I don’t want to fight. I really do trust you. If you say that’s the way it has to be, I believe you.” He spread his hands, palms up. “Can we please not fight?”

  Guilt twisted my guts. “I’m sorry, too. I flew off the handle. I’m…” I made a helpless gesture toward the gaping hole in my wall. “…a little stressed. I don’t want to fight, either.”

  He stepped forward to take my hands, a teasing smile curving his lips. “Somebody’s trying to kill you and you’re a little stressed? I know you don’t express your emotions easily, Aydan, but I think that might be a bit of an understatement even for you.”

  I sighed and stepped against him to tuck my head under his chin. His arms closed around me, and I pressed my face into his chest.

  “I’m…” I started to say ‘totally freaking out’, but I couldn’t quite trust him enough. “…really glad you’re back,” I finished. “I was worried about you.” I pulled back to look up into his face. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m messed up,” he said flatly. “I’ve already told Stemp I’m not fit for active duty now or for the foreseeable future. Maybe never again. I’ve talked to Dr. Rawling a couple of times on the phone and I’ll be seeing him regularly now that I’m back.”

  “Oh, John.” I held him close. “I’m sorry.”

  His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “It is what it is. Maybe it’s fate’s way of telling me it’s time to pack it in. I’m getting too old for this game.” The defeat in his voice twisted my heart.

  “But you’re not even fifty yet,” I protested.

  “Most agents retire to a desk job in their forties. Stemp did it in his late thirties.” Kane’s lips twisted. “He’s smarter than I am. Quit while you’re on top instead of when you find out you can’t cut it anymore, at the cost of an innocent life.”