Courting Passion (14 page)

“Miss Hitchens, while I value your input as always, I really think it should be Mr Walters and Mr Peterson who should present such astonishing findings to us. They are the agents in charge of this hunt.”

Katherine smiled, though it wasn’t a pleasant or humorous gesture.

“I’m afraid, Ms Henley, that won’t be possible,” Katherine paused before continuing. “My partner Tarek was very nearly murdered just a few days ago. Now Peterson is dead as well. He was slain not an hour ago in a large bust we made. Peterson was shot point blank in the face. By Oscar Jennings.”

Only because Katherine had kept her eyes locked on the other woman did she see the small start of surprise jolt through the team leader. Katherine crowed internally, certain the hit had made its mark.

“Jennings,” the men murmured to one another. A division supervisor stood up, drawing the attention to himself.

“Did you capture Jennings?” he asked. Katherine returned her attention to Emma and nodded.

“Oh yes, we captured him,” she replied.

Emma’s eyes narrowed, anger seething in the brown orbs.

“Better still, we’re questioning him now. Victor Adams is out of hospital and has him in interview room B. They have quite a bit to catch up on since the last time the two gentlemen were together.”

“But why are you here? What are these records you’re sharing with us?” another man asked. “Surely if we have Jennings he can tell us who his contact is.”

“Garth Spenser and I merely thought you’d appreciate seeing some evidence. You see, as we feared, the traitor is quite highly placed.”

An uncomfortable tension filled the air as the inhabitants around the table glanced at one another. Katherine decided she’d milked the moment all she needed now.

“It’s Emma Henley. She’s been feeding data to Jennings for months now. She started slow, but in recent weeks nearly every confidential briefing has been compromised. Practically—”

“Oh, please! It’s all lies,” Emma hissed and stepped back from the table. Garth moved protectively and Katherine stepped forward to face the woman.

“Do you really think Jennings won’t want to make a deal? To keep himself alive and in the best position possible?” Katherine asked, scorn dripping from her tone. “Agency workers are dead, Emma. Not protecting Queen and country, but because of actions you performed, of information you leaked. Victor Adams almost died and you were the one who gave Jennings his flight itinerary and the taxi service he preferred. Do you honestly think Victor won’t get that information out of Jennings in minutes? Hell, he’s probably singing his confession arias already.”

“This is the last thing you’ll ever do for this Agency,” Emma swore.

“Now just a moment here!” one elderly man huffed out, his cheeks red. Pandemonium ensued. A man picked up the phone and called down to the interview room but Emma launched herself at Katherine and the two women began to fight. Shouts rang out and security was called.

Katherine fought the arms that tried to snare her, until she heard Garth’s voice
in her ear.

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s me. Don’t gouge my eyes out, please.”

Katherine stopped struggling and relaxed. The man on the phone seemed to be having an intense discussion and was nodding at the guards who restrained Emma. Despite their inherent amazement, the managers appeared to be reacting to the truth of the matter.

Emma Henley had been the mole and now was in custody to be questioned.

Adrenaline left as quickly as it had appeared. Katherine sagged against Garth’s side.

“It’s really over,” she whispered, for his ears alone. Garth took her hand in his and threaded their fingers together. Pressing a kiss to her knuckles he licked his tongue over her sensitive flesh.

“You were right,” he said after a moment. Katherine turned to capture his gaze. Heat pooled in her body as she understood what he was telling her without expressing the words exactly. She grinned.

“Anything I want, hey?” she teased him. He nodded and the sensual promise in his dark eyes and in the wicked tilt of his mouth had her body tingling in excitement.

“Not to mention you’ve avenged Tarek and Peterson. Neither man worked in vain. That’s a wonderful thing you’ve done there.”

“And to think,” she kidded, “I only had to join the dark side to do it.”

Garth tilted his head, confusion on his features. Katherine nudged him with her shoulder.

“Throw the rule book out, dance on the side of you cowboys for a change. You realise every mission won’t be as easy for you. Usually I am very law-abiding.”

Garth laughed heartily.

“Sweetheart, with you as my partner I’m sure I can corrupt you properly. Slowly and over a long period of time.”

“How long?” she teased, but also found herself curious.

“I think we should start with the rest of our lives, but we can negotiate for any time after that.”

Katherine smirked, pleased with his response.

“I think that sounds wonderful.”

Reluctantly they returned their attention to the mayhem in front of them. Katherine had no doubt the next few hours would be filled with questions, reports, statements and a plethora of explanations. She couldn’t find it within herself to mind, though. Her evening tonight would be full of Garth, laughter and wickedly hot sex.

Tonight and every night from here on in. The thought warmed her and caused a tingle to arch from her clit through her stomach and to peak at her nipples. Tonight she’d be able to do anything her heart desired to her man. Maybe tomorrow night she’d allow him the same privilege.

The thought of him reaming her arse again, penetrating her in that most intimate of ways as she toyed with her clit and tweaked her nipples had a flush reaching her cheeks. Garth shot her a wicked, hungry look, his own thoughts clearly mimicking her own.

Yes, she could withstand hours of mind-numbing reports if her nights and future were filled with Garth, passion and electric hot sex. That was a no-brainer. She not only had him for her hours after work, but if their chemistry was any indication they would make an amazing partnership at the Agency as well.

She could hardly wait.

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Flirting With Danger

Elizabeth Lapthorne

Excerpt

Chapter One

Skye Adams knew first-hand that life was never easy when your dad was the equivalent of James Bond. She’d known this to some level from her very youngest days—though it wasn’t until her late twenties that she understood the true nature of his work. Her only knowledge while growing up was that her daddy’s work was ‘important’.

She couldn’t count the number of missed dance recitals, parent-teacher interviews or times someone else had had to drop her off home because she was the last one waiting to be picked up, seemingly forgotten by her father.

Lucy Adams, her mother, had died of cancer before Skye turned twelve. Skye knew her parents loved her very much, but that didn’t help the overwhelming loneliness that marred the ten or so years after her mum’s passing.

A chill of fear always shivered down her spine when she thought back to how she had almost passed by the one time her father had reached out to her for help. When the phone had rung at a little after two a.m., a bored-sounding operator had asked if she’d take an emergency, reverse charges call from Victor Adams who was at an unpronounceable hospital in Helsinki, Finland.

Skye’s first thought as she’d run a hand through her shoulder length, brown curls had been that the call was an elaborate joke being pulled over her by a friend. Laughing, still half asleep, she had assured the operator that, sure, she’d take the call. Skye had expected a howl of laughter followed by some quick commentary and identification of the friend forthwith.

Instead, a very shaky, weak, male had spoken, then stopped to clear his throat. The undeniable tone of her father had come once again over the scratchy connection.

“Skye, can you hear me? Damn this abominable hospital phone to hell,” her father had growled.

“Daddy?” she’d gasped, her warm blue eyes widening in the darkness of her bedroom as she shot bolt upright in her bed. She hadn’t wanted to believe that the call was from Helsinki and from her father, but his voice was unmistakable.

“I’ve run into a minor problem, sweetheart,” Victor had continued, pain evident in his every word. The very faint slurring had made Skye wonder what kind of painkillers they had given him, or possibly just how very much suffering he must have been enduring for his voice to sound so ragged. She’d never seen him so much as flinch before in her life.

Always her father’s voice and manner soothed and calmed her every fear. Victor Adams had always been the strongest, most steadfast man of her acquaintance. Fear had clutched at Skye’s heart, as to what could be going on, confusion had clouded her mind.

She’d reminded herself that, whatever happened, her father could handle it. Obviously something extreme had occurred and he’d turned to her for help. She needed to keep a grip on herself.

Skye had followed her dad’s clipped, precise instructions to the letter and, in what had felt like both forever and no time at all, she had made it to his hospital room, his travel suitcase packed, assisting him to discharge himself.

Victor had been shot in the leg, beaten and abused. She’d overheard the nurses gossiping that he’d nearly died from the blood loss. The transfusion and her father’s foreigner status as well as lurking police suspicion surrounding his true motivations for being in the country had convinced the doctors that the most stringent requirements regarding this man needed to be in place.

They would only release him to a family member.

His protégé and sometime partner, Garth Spenser, had also been present that evening when Skye had arrived. Tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned and with a neatly clipped beard, he sat in the corner of the room on the single chair and glowered at her as she’d tried to make sense of what her eyes told her. Garth had left, muttering something to Victor about ‘giving you some space’.

The moment they’d had privacy she’d demanded a full explanation. The dislocated kneecap and evident beating around his face and upper body did not point to the vague ‘financial broker’ career he’d always talked about.

Her dad had finally told her the truth. He worked for an agency in the espionage industry for the United Kingdom.

Initially Skye hadn’t been able to help but feel the story was preposterous, a fabrication for who knew what reasons. She had pressed him, annoyed by his seemingly frivolous attitude. All too soon, random dots she’d never thought twice about had connected, until Skye’s eyes were opened to the full picture.

Her father was a spy.

In the years since then, despite his frequent travel and near endless overtime, they had grown closer. One of Skye’s greatest pleasures was that they’d discovered a mutual love of good food. Eating out at different, new restaurants had become a semi-regular occurrence, where they could relax, get to know each other once more and reconnect on a new level as adults, as well as father and daughter.

For her birthday the week before she had been looking forward to enjoying her first experience at a newly opened Thai restaurant they had both been curious about. Victor had called her, however, and informed her he had a quick mission he needed to take care of.

“It will be a few days’ turnaround, tops, sweetheart,” he had assured her. “It’s personal this time, I can’t entrust it to anyone else. I swear I’ll shout you the full banquet and I’ve organised something special for your birthday as soon as I return.”

True to his word, when he’d texted her the details of his return flight they had organised their lunch date at the Golden Mih Goo Wak Restaurant.

The day was sunny and clear, though the wind still held the crispness of early spring. Skye was led to the table her father had booked for them. She smiled as she realised it was along one side, midway between the front door and the back entry to the kitchen.

Perfect placement to both monitor their surroundings and beat a hasty retreat in either direction should the unthinkable happen. Her father took his planning and strategies seriously.

Knowing she was a few minutes early, Skye pulled out her e-reader and opened up her latest purchase. Engrossed, she kept half an ear out for her phone to ring in case her father was delayed—now, without fail, he’d call her—but she lost track of the time.

When Skye’s stomach rumbled, she looked up with surprise. Frowning, she realised a lot of the people who had surrounded her when she’d sat down had eaten and left. Powering down her e-reader, she checked her watch.

Astonished, she discovered it was almost two o’clock. Digging in her handbag, Skye pulled out her phone and made certain it received reception inside the eatery. Scrolling through her inbox to check she hadn’t missed a call or message, she tried to stem the small spurt of worry that tingled through her.

You’re being silly. Your father is a seasoned agent, well versed and a tutor within the industry. There’s no need for concern.

From memory, Skye punched in his private number. After the hospital incident, her dad had bought a new mobile phone, one he kept with him at all times and used in emergencies. He’d told her less than half a dozen people had the number. Even if he was in a meeting, he’d answer this call.

The phone rang and rang. After what seemed like an endless time, it turned to voicemail.

“Dad, it’s me,” she said. “I’m at the restaurant. It’s two, where are you? Please call me back, even if it’s just to cancel. Love you.”

Skye reached out and took a sip of her now lukewarm tea as she thought hard. After far too much time with her father, she’d also mastered the fine art of leaving oblique messages. Victor always insisted you never knew who would listen either to a voice message left behind or on an open line. She’d teased him for his paranoia, but they both knew it was largely responsible for his longevity in an industry not known for agents who retired owing to old age.