How Spy I Am (13 page)

He released me slowly,
and an unworthy thought wormed into the small part of my mind that
wasn’t congealed by re-ignited lust. I could do anything I wanted
while we were on camera, and he’d have to respond. Goddamn. What an
opportunity…

Wariness flickered in
his eyes, and he dropped an arm around my shoulders to hurry me in
the direction of his SUV. Out of camera range, he gave me an uneasy
glance.

“You’re lookin’ at me
like I’m lunch, darlin’. Ya know that’d normally make me happy,
but…”

I sighed. “Don’t
worry, your virtue is safe with me. I was just thinking it’s too
bad we really are friends and I have to respect your decision.
Otherwise I’d have given the surveillance analysts the cheapest
thrills of their little lives.”

His face relaxed and
he chuckled. “Darlin’, if they ain’t beatin’ off just from seein’
that look on your face, either they ain’t male or they ain’t human.
Hop in.”

We drove in silence,
listening to the crunch of gravel under the tires. As he turned
onto the highway and steered in the direction of Silverside, Arnie
spoke quietly.

“Aydan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for… I figured
you’d prob’ly tell me to fuck off for good. Thanks for not doin’
that.”

I reached over to
stroke his scarred knuckles. “You’re my friend.”

“Yeah. But that didn’t
stop ya from tryin’ to push me away the whole time we were on the
road last week. What changed?”

I swallowed the lump
in my throat and stared out the window. “You… convinced me. I…” I
fiddled with the zipper on my waist pouch, not quite able to say
the words.

“Ya finally started
trustin’ me,” he said softly. “Thanks, Aydan.”

I watched the
snow-streaked fields slipping by in the dusk. Golden wheat stubble
gave way to the bleached bones of canola, and I spoke again before
I could lose my nerve. “And I realized what I had with you was
exactly what I wanted…” I gulped down the tremor in my voice.

“Aw, darlin’.” His
voice was hoarser than usual, and he cleared his throat before
speaking again. “Aydan, I can give ya what ya want, but I can’t
give ya what ya need. Kane can.”

I let irritation
straighten my spine and turned to scowl at him. “Don’t you think
I’m the one who should decide what I need? Last time I checked, you
weren’t God.”

He sighed. “Nah, I
sure as hell ain’t God. But long’s ya had me for an excuse, ya
wouldn’ta made a decision at all. Now ya hafta.”

“What about you?” I
challenged. “What about what you want?”

He spoke to the
windshield. “If you an’ Kane are gettin’ a chance at somethin’
good, I’ll be happy. It ain’t like there was ever gonna be anythin’
serious between you an’ me.”

We rode in silence for
the rest of the short trip.

When we pulled up
behind the Silverside Hotel, I shot Hellhound a questioning
look.

“Just a quick stop,”
he said. “Come on in with me. We gotta make this look good.”

His arm around me, he
guided me around the building and in through the front door. Our
trip across the lobby and up to his room offered an exercise in
frustration while I tried and failed to prevent my body from
responding to his teasing kisses and touches.

He stepped away as
soon as his door swung shut behind us, and I fought the selfish
temptation to back him up against the wall and test his willpower.
Before I could succumb to the urge, he spoke.

“I’ll take that
tracker now.” He held out his hand.

“Um… why?”

He met my gaze
solemnly. “Ya trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then gimme the
tracker, an’ I’ll explain in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” I fished it
out of my change purse and dropped it onto his palm. He placed it
carefully on the bedside table, then turned to crack open the door
and peek into the corridor.

“All clear. Let’s go.”
He hustled me down the hall and into the back stairwell, repeating
his wary surveillance at the back door before hurrying me out to
his SUV.

A few minutes later,
we parked in a small residential neighbourhood. Hellhound turned
off the ignition and twisted around to thoroughly inspect the
deserted street before turning to face me. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we
going?”

“Trust me,
darlin’.”

“Okay…” I hopped out
and trotted up the sidewalk behind him to a small, darkened house.
I shot a curious look up at him as he unlocked the door and opened
it, gesturing me inside.

A mouthwatering aroma
welcomed me. The house had only appeared darkened because of the
heavy draperies drawn over the windows, and the warm glow of
indirect lighting made the mellow oak and dark leather furniture
look cozy and inviting. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, and
classic rock played quietly in the background.

I was turning an
inquiring look up to Hellhound when a movement from down the
hallway made me snap my gaze in that direction.

I froze.

Kane.

Shit.

I turned to flee and
thudded into Hellhound’s bulk when he blocked the doorway. I
briefly considered diving between his widely planted legs to get
out the door, but summoned up the remains of my dignity with a deep
breath instead.

I glared up at
Hellhound. “Okay, I don’t trust you anymore,” I said evenly.

His face twisted as if
in pain, but he squared his shoulders and met my eyes steadily.
“I’m sorry, Aydan, I hadta-”

I laid my fingertips
gently over his lips. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t really mean
that.”

I managed not to sigh
as I turned to face Kane. His expression was vulnerable in the soft
light.

“Aydan…” he said
hesitantly. “I…”

Behind me, the quiet
click of the door latch signalled Hellhound’s retreat.

“I… made dinner for
you,” Kane said. “Can we talk?”

“Uh…”

Christ, woman, you’re
not thirteen years old. Don’t turn this into a ridiculous display
of adolescent awkwardness.

I took a deep breath,
shoved my nervousness down into the pit of my stomach where it
belonged, and concentrated on faking a casual posture. I gave him a
smile.

“It smells amazing in
here. What’s for supper?”

Kane’s shoulders
relaxed and he returned my smile, looking touchingly hopeful. “Come
on in. I’ve got a lobster bisque to start, and then pork tenderloin
medallions with a brandy cream sauce and stuffed potatoes and
roasted root vegetables, with crème brulée for dessert.”

I tried to conceal my
sagging jaw with a joke. “I hope you’re not planning to broil that
crème brulée with a butane torch.”

He stiffened, his eyes
widening. “Aydan, I’m so sorry, I never even thought…”

“I’m just kidding,” I
hastened to reassure him. “I love crème brulée. I love everything
you mentioned. I’m starving, and I can hardly wait.”

“Oh. Good.” He
examined my face anxiously for a moment before his smile came back.
“This way.”

I followed his wide
shoulders down the hallway.

“Oooh, this is nice,”
I complimented him, admiring the long sweep of granite countertop
and the professional-quality stainless steel appliances in the
kitchen. As I turned to take in the white-draped table set for two,
he whisked a small butane torch off the counter and slipped it into
a drawer.

I suppressed my
involuntary shudder and concentrated on the table, sparkling with
stemware, china, and silver. A sophisticated, minimalistic flower
arrangement featured a vividly red anthurium and a few large
leaves.

“What?” Kane asked,
watching my face.

“Nothing.” I couldn’t
hide my smirk, and he smiled back, his sexy laugh lines
crinkling.

“Give,” he demanded.
“You can’t show me a wicked smile like that and then refuse to tell
me.”

I laughed. “I can’t
help it. I’m sorry, this is rude. But Uncle Roger always used to
call anthuriums ‘dink plants’. Because of the…” I trailed off and
gestured to the erect spike in the middle of the glossy flower,
biting my lip to hold back a snicker.

Kane guffawed. “I
really wish I could have met him.”

I laughed, too. “I
wish you could have, too. You’d have liked him.”

Kane gestured to the
bottle in the ice bucket. “Would you like some wine? I’ve opened
some Sauvignon Blanc.”

“Thank you.” I smiled
at him, touched that he’d remembered my preference. “I hope you
didn’t spend a lot of money on it, though. It’s pretty much wasted
on me.”

“I know that’s not
true,” he said as he poured a glass with an expert twist of his
wrist. “You have a very refined palate, you just choose not to
admit it.”

He handed me the
glass, and I sipped instead of trying to find an appropriate
response. The fruity, floral notes exploded into my senses, and I
smiled, savouring it.

Kane smiled, too. “I
knew it.”

“The first few sips
are always the best,” I agreed. “After that, I lose the subtleties
of the flavour and I might as well drink beer.”

“I’ve got beer, too,”
he assured me. “Please, sit down. The bisque is ready.”

I chased the last few
drops of cream sauce around my plate with the fork, wondering
whether Kane would be offended or flattered if I picked up the
plate and licked it clean.

“That was fabulous,” I
sighed. “I didn’t know you were such an amazing chef.”

Kane smiled. “I’ve
always liked to cook, I just don’t get the opportunity very often.
And it’s nice to cook for an appreciative audience.”

“Well, you can cook
for me anytime,” I declared, still focused on that last delectable
drop.

“I’d love to,” he
rumbled.

I tried not to tense,
but my fork clattered against the plate. I laid it down carefully
and reached for my napkin instead.

“Time for dessert,”
Kane said quickly. “Let’s have it in the living room. You go on in.
I’ll just be a minute.”

I nodded and tried not
to scuttle nervously away from the table. In the living room I
perched on the edge of the sofa, cursing this whole uncomfortable
situation and trying not to be mad at Hellhound for putting me in
it. I understood the difficulty of his position, and if I was in
his place I’d probably do the same, but dammit…

The click-hiss of the
butane torch igniting in the kitchen made me shiver. I slid off the
couch to huddle close to the fire, hoping its quiet crackling would
drown out the evil whisper of pain and terror. Willing my mind
elsewhere, I stared into the dancing orange flames.

Kane’s quiet voice
startled me. “Are you all right?”

I rose, swallowed
hard, and pasted on a smile before I turned to face him. “Fine.
That looks delicious.” I nodded at the ramekins he carried as I sat
on the sofa again.

He examined my face,
his grey eyes troubled. “I’m sorry. This was thoughtless.”

“Not at all, it was
very thoughtful.” I reached for one of the dishes and gave him a
grin. “Thanks for remembering how much I enjoyed it at…” I choked
slightly on the name. “…Harchman’s,” I finished determinedly.

He relinquished the
dish slowly, still looking concerned.

“Did you, uh… Did you
hear about my new cover?” I asked.

His expression
smoothed into his inscrutable cop face. “Yes,” he replied
neutrally.

I eyed him. “It’s
okay. Go ahead and laugh. Hellhound laughed his ass off. For which
I still intend to retaliate.”

“In that case, I’m
afraid to laugh. I’m sure your revenge will be swift and
terrible.”

I grinned. “Believe
it.”

Kane sank into the
chair opposite, his eyes crinkling in that sexy smile again. I
tapped my spoon against the crust of caramelized sugar, enjoying
the sharp, hollow sound of its fracture into the custard below. The
first bite made me close my eyes to savour the luxurious creamy
flavour and crunch, and I might have moaned just a little.

When I opened my eyes
again, Kane was staring. “So good,” I mumbled, going for another
spoonful. “This is so good.”

He blinked, then
smiled. “Glad you like it.”

Silence descended
while we scraped out our bowls, and I cast about for a topic of
conversation, my stomach knotting.

Fuck, this was
stupid.

I set my dish aside
and sat up straight. “John, thank you, that was a wonderful meal,
but can we talk about the elephant in the room now?”

His quickly-controlled
start surprised me. I’d always thought he was Mister Super-Cool
James Bond.

He smiled. “Oh, you
mean that enormous elephant hovering above us? I didn’t think you’d
noticed.”

I blew out a laugh
that didn’t sound very convincing. “Yeah. That one. Um. Arnie said
some things…”

“Aydan…” He made an
aborted gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. If… Is it all
right if I just…”

I squeezed my hands
between my knees to keep from burrowing beneath the sofa cushions.
God, why did this have to be so excruciating?

“Just go ahead and say
what you want to say,” I told him.

Kane drew a deep
breath. “Back in the summer…” He broke off, then half-reached in my
direction before dropping his hands. “Aydan, you know I love you.
You do know that, don’t you?”

I tried not to stiffen
any further, but my jerky nod made my neck crack audibly.

“That’s not what I
want to talk about tonight,” he said. “But I need you to know that.
If… just in case anything ever changes for you.”

“John, nothing’s going
to change,” I said as gently as I could.

“I understand.” He
squared his shoulders, muscles rippling in his jaw. “I’m not asking
you for that.” He barked a short, humourless laugh. “And I’d like
to think I have enough self-respect not to beg for it.”

I held myself
straight, refusing to fold over the pain in my gut.

Kane met my eyes
steadily. “But I do want to change things between us. When you
offered to be friends with benefits this summer, I turned you down
because I didn’t think I’d be able to live with the knowledge that
you might choose to be with other men as well as me.”