by Tiffany Snow
I frowned. “Where are you going?”
“I need to run an errand and call an old friend I’m hoping will help us,” he said. “I shan’t be long, I promise.”
I believed him. “Okay. Be careful.”
“Always, darling.” The door closed quietly behind him, leaving me alone. I was asleep in seconds and didn’t wake for hours. When I did, I felt marginally better. The ever-present headache was still there, but it was now more of a dull throb that I could handle.
Devon had returned at some point as he lay next to me, obviously not wanting to wake me. He was sound asleep and I arranged the blanket over him, then eased out of bed.
It was after noon, and as I dug through our duffel bag to get my toothbrush, my stomach growled. I took that as a good sign. An appetite signaled that my body was doing okay.
After cleaning up, I took a few bills from Devon’s wallet along with the room key. I left a note telling him I was getting some food and would be back soon. After last night, I could visualize him waking up, seeing I wasn’t there, and thinking the worst.
The hotel was a discount one that saw a lot of turnover and didn’t remember names, so it wasn’t surprising to me that there wasn’t a restaurant inside. The sun was shining outside, beckoning. Thinking I could use the exercise and fresh air, I went out.
I walked for a short while, the sun warm on my shoulders and hair, until I found a small Cuban restaurant. The menu looked good, so I ordered myself and Devon something to go. He had to be starving, too. It felt good to be taking care of this one small task: lunch. I wasn’t helpless and we were a team, just like he’d said.
The waitress who took my order looked at me kind of oddly. She didn’t speak much English and my Spanish was nonexistent. I ordered from the menu based on numbers and slid onto one of the stools in their small bar to wait. It wasn’t until I saw her talking to a man and both of them looking at me that my instincts kicked in.
I couldn’t forget—my face was all over the news. Even with the hair redo, people could still recognize me, if they were aware enough. It seemed this unlikely place and this too-observant person was just that.
Shit.
I slid off the stool and headed for the door, but the man the waitress had been talking to intercepted me.
“Excuse me,” he said, his accent thick. “Your order has been delayed a few more minutes. The cook misread the ticket and has to remake it.”
I gave him a fake smile. “That’s fine. I’m just going to step outside and tell my girlfriend.” If they reported this to the FBI, I wanted them to think I was traveling with a woman, not Devon.
“Please, have a seat, and a drink. On the house.” He took my arm, propelling me back toward the bar.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink.” I tried to pull out of his grip, but he only held me tighter. “Let me go,” I said, giving up all pretense and yanking my arm away.
He lunged for me but I sidestepped him. I had a split second to decide what to do, and I went on the offense.
Rushing forward, I got up in his space and grabbed his shoulders. He reared back in surprise, then my knee caught him square in the crotch. I was out the door before he’d even collapsed to the floor, moaning in pain and holding himself.
The temptation to run was strong, but that would catch the eye of anyone following me, so I made myself walk. Luckily, the sidewalk was crowded with tourists. An outdoor flea market was set up in the adjacent parking lot, and I walked through the vendors, looking for an opportunity. I saw my chance when a woman selling scarves and purses began haggling with a tourist over the price of a quilted clutch bag. As I brushed past, my fingers caught at a fluttering scarf. Two tables later, I wrapped it over my hair and tied it. Someone else had set down their sunglasses to look at a handmade clock. I picked them up as I walked by, not even pausing in my stride, and slipped them on. Two minutes after I’d escaped the Cuban restaurant, I was somewhat disguised and headed back to the hotel, hidden amongst a throng of people in a tour group.
My heart was pounding, but I was relieved I’d made it out of there. Deciding that ethnic food was going to have to be for another time, I popped in to the McDonalds next to the hotel. No one there noticed a thing as I ordered a Big Mac and chicken nuggets, extra fries, a couple of Cokes, and a shake just for the hell of it. If I was going to die, might as well get the ice cream, too.
I was waiting for the elevator in the hotel when it happened.
A blinding flash of pain in my head that had me reeling. My vision clouded and the bag and cups fell from my hands. I clutched my head, feeling the warm trickle of blood ooze from my nose. The pain was excruciating and I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea climbed into my throat. Tears leaked from my eyes and I heard someone talking to me, but couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying.
My knees gave out and I hit the floor hard as the pain spiked once again. This time I couldn’t handle it, and everything went dark.
The first thing I became aware of when I opened my eyes was that the blinding pain had receded into the dull, aching throb I was growing too accustomed to. I could taste blood on my lip as I looked around, realizing I’d created quite a scene.
“She’s awake,” someone called out.
A group of people surrounded me. A woman knelt by my side, her expression concerned as she asked, “Are you all right?”
I nodded and sat up, which produced a wave of light-headedness, and I had to sit still for a moment and wait for it to pass. Everyone was watching me. What if someone else recognized me? A knot of panic grew in my gut.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, swiping at the blood under my nose. Someone thrust a handful of tissues at me, which I gratefully took. “I made an awful mess.”
“Don’t worry about that,” the woman said. “We were about to call an ambulance.”
Panic struck. “No!” I said, too loudly. I dialed it back. “I mean, no, I don’t need an ambulance. I’m fine. Really.” I struggled to my feet and the crowd around me began to drift away.
The woman looked puzzled. “I really think you need to go to the hospital,” she said.
“I will,” I lied. “Just not in an ambulance. I’ll get my friend to take me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. But thank you for helping me.” The elevator doors opened just then, and I gave her a wan smile before darting inside, grimacing at the puddle of Coke and ice cream on the lobby floor. I punched the button for the correct floor and breathed a sigh of relief when the door slid shut. Unlike the restaurant, I didn’t think anyone had recognized me, or at least they hadn’t shown any sign of it.
I wiped off the blood the best I could, but had to clean up and change my shirt when I got back into the room. Devon was still asleep, thank God. I knew he’d want me to tell him what happened, and I would tell him about the waitress, but I hesitated when I thought of how I’d collapsed in the lobby. There wasn’t a thing he could do about my health and it would only worry him. It wasn’t like pain and nosebleeds were a new thing at this point. The medicine John had given me had helped, but hadn’t lasted very long.
I’d just finished tucking a fresh tank top into my jeans—black this time, so if there was more blood, at least it wouldn’t be so obvious—when Devon stirred.
“Hallo, my darling,” he said, beckoning me. I willingly climbed onto the bed and into his arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I said, which was true. I felt way better than I had in the lobby. That had been awful.
His hand curved around my shoulder, pressing me a little closer. “I’m delighted to hear that.”
I was glad I’d decided not to say anything. The relief and hope in Devon’s voice made my heart hurt.
“Where did you go?”
I twisted to look up at him. His gaze was steady. “You heard me? I tried to be quiet.”
“Of course I heard you,” he said. “I thought you might need some time alone. I trust you didn’t go far?”
/> I shook my head. “No. Not far. Though my disguise isn’t working very well.” I explained what had happened in the restaurant.
He squeezed my shoulder hard when I spoke about getting away from the man, and I felt his lips brush the top of my head. He didn’t speak for a moment, and when he did, he had to clear his throat first.
“I’d like to take you shopping today,” he said. “Buy you something pretty.”
Devon knew how much I liked clothes. They were a passion and obsession of mine. He’d indulged me many times, but shopping didn’t hold the same appeal it used to. Not now. Not anymore.
“I really don’t care what we do,” I said, nestling my head against his chest. “So long as I’m with you.”
“That’s very sweet, my dear, but I know how your face lights up when you find the perfect skinny jean, or a strappy sandal that makes me glad I’m quite a bit taller than you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “I do love a strappy sandal,” I agreed. “Especially if they’re sparkly.” I was still worried about being recognized, but I trusted Devon. If he said it’d be okay, then it would.
I heard his laugh rumble in his chest. “Sparkles are always a plus, I agree,” he said with mock seriousness.
Devon changed into light khaki pants and a striped blue button-up shirt, which he left untucked. In deference to the heat, he folded back the cuffs and the top two buttons remained undone.
We strolled hand in hand along the high-end shopping district in downtown Miami. I wore the scarf I’d purloined, and the sunglasses. Though I was supposed to be shopping, all we did was walk and talk.
“Tell me a story,” I said. I loved hearing Devon talk, not only because of his accent, which I found particularly appealing, but because of his word choice and dry humor.
“I’m to entertain you, is that it?” he teased.
“Absolutely.” I smiled at him, enjoying the way the sunlight made highlights in his hair shine like gold.
“All right then.” He thought for a minute as we strolled. “I suppose I could tell you about the time I met the Queen.”
I stopped in my tracks, gaping at him. “You met the Queen?” I asked.
He nodded. “And Prince Charles.”
“Bullshit.”
He laughed. “Darling, would I lie to you?” He tugged me forward and we resumed our stroll. “Now pay attention and I’ll relate the tale. It was many years ago, and I was but a new lad in the service. It’s not often Shadow agents interact with the royals—we’re usually tasked for other things—but on this particular occasion, I was assisting with security for an event due to a credible IRA threat. Normally, even that wouldn’t get me much closer than twenty meters of their actual person, but there was a slight incident.”
I was enthralled. Devon had played bodyguard to the Queen of England? Just . . . wow.
“What kind of incident?” I asked.
He grimaced. “A man—obviously a bit bonkers—thought it’d be jolly good fun to run about naked as some kind of political statement. The only statement it really made was how unimpressive the size of his manhood was.”
I laughed as he continued. “So this naked bloke is cavorting about, holding up some sort of sign with a rubbish motto written on it, and of course everything goes into lockdown mode as a matter of procedure. Though he had no weapon and no place to hide any sort of weapon, protocol must be followed. The royals were sent through an alternate exit and I was charged with being the primary on that detail. We rushed them into their waiting sedan, but the Queen gave me a smile and nod before she got in.”
I could visualize it, the tiny woman acknowledging the service of her subject.
“That is so cool,” I said. “Did you say anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m not a huge fan of the royals, but I admire the Queen. She’s an extraordinary woman. I must admit, I do hold that memory quite dear, much to my surprise.”
“Did Charles say anything? Did he nod at you, too?”
Devon shook his head. “No. He’s a bit of a sod, actually. Not very fond of him.”
I laughed at the grimace on Devon’s face. He smiled and pulled me closer as we walked.
“What about you, my darling? Shall I prod you for a story of your own?”
I shrugged. “My life is boring in comparison. Growing up on a farm in Kansas isn’t exactly the stuff movies are made of.”
“Dorothy and Toto would disagree, I’m sure,” he said, and I laughed. “A farm in Kansas sounds lovely. I particularly enjoyed meeting your grandparents. Your grandfather was quite vehement in letting me know he had a shotgun and wasn’t afraid to use it should I behave with any impropriety toward you.”
I laughed. “That sounds like grandpa. I wondered if he did anything like that while we were there. I suppose I should apologize for that.”
“Not at all,” he said. “That’s his job and his duty, to make sure nefarious creatures like myself don’t take advantage of his young, beautiful granddaughter.”
I shook my head, marveling that even now, Devon’s compliments could make me blush.
“You’re not shopping,” he said, tugging me to a halt outside a designer store. “Let’s go in.”
I allowed him to pull me inside, though I didn’t see the point. Why spend a bunch of money on some outrageously expensive outfit that I’d die before I got to wear? Though I supposed Devon could always return it . . .
I sighed at the morbid thought as a shop girl saw us and walked over, a welcoming smile on her face. “How can I help you today?” she asked.
I searched her face for any sign of recognition as she looked at me, but there was only the friendly open expression of an employee working on commission.
“We’re looking for a dress,” Devon said. “I highly doubt you’ll have one as beautiful as my lovely lady, but perhaps one near to it.”
The girl’s smile widened. “I think we can find a few options. Come with me.”
I rolled my eyes at Devon, but couldn’t suppress a smile as I followed the girl to the dressing rooms. She asked me my name and chitchatted about Miami while I undressed. Sizing me up with a practiced eye, she said she’d be right back with some dresses.
I spent the next hour or so trying on clothes and I had to admit, it did cheer me up. The fabrics were so silky with beautiful, bold colors. The lines of the dresses draped perfectly on me, making me feel as though I were the old me—the healthy me.
“That’s the one,” Devon said when I came out of the dressing room for the eighth time. “We’ll have that one,” he told the girl. “And don’t forget the shoes.”
It was an Oscar de la Renta dress, the hem hitting just below my knee. Sleeveless with a scoop neck, it was a soft aqua, the entire front embroidered in an elaborate design with flowers, butterflies, and ivy. It was exquisite. The shoes were a matching aqua sandal with a low heel.
I turned my back so he could unzip me, but he said, “No. Wear it.”
I looked at him. “But it’ll get dirty.”
“Doesn’t matter. I want to wine and dine you, and that is what I want you to wear. Be a dear and oblige me?”
Well, when he said that, who was I to say no? “You’re too good to me,” I said, not even wanting to know what an original Oscar de la Renta cost.
“You mean I’m not nearly good enough for you,” he said, taking my hand and raising it to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. “But I am ever so fortunate you love me despite my many faults.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet!”
We both turned to see the shop girl watching us dreamily. I laughed a bit self-consciously, but Devon merely slipped an arm over my shoulders and followed the girl to the front.
I tensed when I saw Devon give the girl a black credit card. “I thought we didn’t want to be tracked,” I said in an undertone to him.
“They already know we’re in the city,” Devon said. “Besides, I want them to know.”
I couldn’t question him f
urther, not with the girl trying hard to pretend she wasn’t listening to us, but I gave him the look that said he’d be explaining further once we got somewhere private.
“We’ll have that, too,” Devon said, pointing to a wide, floppy straw hat. It was gorgeous and combined with my stolen black, oversized sunglasses, I felt a bit like Audrey Hepburn when we walked out.
“I know a wonderful place for dinner,” Devon said. “It’s right along the beach. Fancy some seafood, darling? How does that sound?”
I loved fresh seafood, but rarely got it. In the Midwest, that was about the most expensive thing you’d find on the menu and even then, it was hardly ever fresh unless you went to really nice places. On my salary, those hadn’t been in the cards, so I eagerly agreed.
The restaurant was indeed right on the beach, and the waiter took us outside to a cozy table for two on the deck. A small candle was lit and I absorbed the incredible view while the waiter draped the linen napkin in my lap. The sun was going down and the light glistened off the water like diamonds had been tossed into the waves.
“It’s beautiful,” I said with a sigh. I took a deep lungful of the sea air, listening to the crash of the waves and the seagulls’ cries. This was a good place to be. A good place to—
Die was the word that came to mind, though I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted to make it to London with Devon, but after the episode this afternoon, I wasn’t sure that was going to happen.
Devon was watching me rather than looking at the menu, and I was suddenly self-conscious.
“What?” I asked with a smile. “Does the hat look silly?” I reached up and took off the hat, smoothing my hair down even as the ocean breeze tousled it.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“My hair has been chopped in a cheap motel, then given a bad dye job,” I said. “Beautiful isn’t really the right word.”
“You’re right,” he said. “Stunning is more appropriate. I look at you and see the love of my life.”
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him, my jaw agape. He was serious, I could see it in his eyes, and it made mine fill with tears.
