Page 16

K urt placed the bags he carried near the wide-open garage doors. The temperature had dropped considerably, and he wished he’d pulled on a fleece. Of course, holding onto Rowena had warmed him up more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

He hoped he didn’t embarrass himself. In theory, he believed what people did with their own lives and who they had sexual relationships with was strictly their business.

Yeah.

Sure.

A guy his age in his position of power? A young woman in what had to be frightening circumstances? That would never be morally right no matter how much he might try to justify it.

Not that he had any plans to even think about having sexual relations with Miss Rowena Smith.

Except, now he was thinking about it.

“Hi there.” He stuck his head around the door and called out a greeting.

Tried to look less like a horny old goat and more like a dumb tourist as two Black guys in greasy overalls swung around to face him.

One smiled, and he gave the guy a goofy grin that hopefully made him look harmless rather than certifiable.

It was cold inside the workshop, the generator being used to run the lights and machines but not the heater.

“My girlfriend and I had a flat a couple hundred yards back there on the road, and the spare is a piece of crap. Any chance you can help us out?”

“Are you staying at the resort?”

“Weren’t planning on it. Hoped to head further north tonight.”

The guy on the right checked the clock hanging over the office door. Shook his head. “You won’t get far. There’s a tree down a mile up the road. It’s going to be a couple of hours before it’s cleared. I can tow your car here and have it ready to go by nine tomorrow morning.”

“You can’t do it sooner?” Kurt mentally calculated his cash situation.

The man shook his head. “I’ll do my best, but I have to get my kids off to school before I come to work in the morning.”

Damn.

He drew in a long breath then glanced at the lights across the road. “That’s the resort?”

The man nodded. “It’s very beautiful. Your girlfriend will love it. You might end up staying for longer.”

Not if I can help it .

“My wife works there.”

Kurt nodded, resigned to being stuck here overnight unless they wanted to walk.

The latter was tempting, but they didn’t have night vision equipment, and they needed to cross the river.

He’d rather do that in daylight. “Any shops open in town?” He wanted an idea of the layout and population.

He jerked his head toward Rowena, who had stayed outside, and lowered his voice.

“I wanted to get her a little something as an anniversary gift.”

“We have the convenience store and a pottery next to the post office just past the turning to Church Road, but that’s closed already. It opens at nine.”

Post office? That gave him an idea.

“The hotel has a very fine gift shop. You’ll find something she’ll like there. Or order her a massage. ”

“Good idea. ’Preciate it.” He could do with a massage too. Or a good close-quarter combat sparring session. Or sex.

Fuck .

Reluctantly, he pulled the car key off the keyring and handed it over. “Do you know if the hotel takes credit cards even when the power is down?”

“Sure they do. They’ll process it the old-fashioned way with carbon paper. We can do the same.”

That should hopefully give them time to leave the hotel before their names were flagged— if they were being followed. Perhaps he was being paranoid after a near miss on the mortality coil. “That’s good news. Thank you, sir.”

He went back outside and saw Rowena’s breath frosting the air as she leaned against the wall. Picked up all the bags in his right hand. Wished he had a weapon tucked away somewhere on his person in case things turned ugly.

“Hard to believe I was sweating earlier today.” She sounded pretty upbeat under the circumstances.

“We’re a lot higher up than in Harare.” He held out his hand because the side of the road was still slick. It wasn’t because he liked holding her hand. He wasn’t that sort of guy. But to prevent a broken bone? Absolutely. An injury would fuck them up completely.

“So we’re spending the night at the swanky resort?”

His mouth went dry at the idea. “We are. They’ll fix the tire first thing.”

She looked at him, remarkably composed for a woman who’d found a dead body that morning.

Perhaps she was still in shock or simply not ready to process everything that had happened yet.

He sure hadn’t thoroughly processed everything the day had brought, but he was more used to death and danger than most civilians.

Without Rowena’s actions today—however unwise or potentially illegal—he’d be dead.

That was sobering. But then again, he spent a lot of time training with live ammunition, and brushes with death were one wrong step away.

They trained that way for several reasons, but the main one was so adrenaline didn’t screw up their physiology with a panic response.

To ensure they could think clearly under pressure.

He knew it wasn’t paranoia driving his actions.

It was training, logic, and instinct all working in tandem.

Whoever was in charge of this endeavor had zero scruples, and they weren’t afraid to sacrifice innocent bystanders. Someone was prepared to go to great lengths to keep their dirty secrets.

What could be worth killing for? Not just a single impulsive act, but the planned destruction of hundreds of lives.

Land? Diamonds? Fortunes? Reputation?

It wasn’t unknown for certain governments to shoot down airliners. It wasn’t uncommon for civilians to be massacred. But those criminals rarely cared about what the FBI might conclude about their actions. Or The Hague.

Why was he suddenly important? Why now? Why had Bjorn been murdered? Because of the Dougie Cavanagh connection? What influence did a man who’d been dead for decades have on the FBI’s current hunt for Darmawan Hurek?

The stakes were obviously high even if he didn’t know exactly what those stakes were. One thing was for sure, this wasn’t a game, and they needed to play their new roles to perfection.

“I hate to break this to you.” He cleared his throat. “But we’re going to have to share a bed or at least pretend to.”

“Only one bed?” She laughed and he stared at her in surprise.

“Sorry.” Her fingers tightened around his as her foot slipped. “It’s a romance novel trope.”

“A what ?”

She laughed again, and it looked like she was blushing but hard to say with only the lanterns to light the driveway. “I guess I shouldn’t be finding anything amusing about this situation, but I’ve always dealt with bad times using humor. Maybe it’s a British trait.”

“Hey, Americans have a sense of humor. ”

“I know”—she gripped his hand tighter—“like your political system.”

“Ouch.” He laughed and placed his other fist on his heart. “The patriot in me objects while the pragmatist acknowledges you might have a point. However, at least we don’t have a monarchy.”

“Ouch, back. Although judging from the number of yanks in London, Americans love the British monarchy—which is irony at its greatest.” She grinned and he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

She leaned closer and lowered her voice.

“And don’t worry about the bed situation.

It’s just a place to sleep. I promise you’re safe with me. ”

“Safe from you?”

“From my seductive wiles.” Her tone was full of self-mockery.

Maybe she was some sort of trained operative, luring him in with her sunny personality and impossibly pretty smile. He’d always been more of a grouch—life was easier that way—but he couldn’t deny her appeal.

“I did a little acting at uni. I was terrible, of course, but I think I can handle pretending to be your lover.”

Her words struck him like a bolt of lightning out of the sky. She made him feel things he’d never felt before. Want things he wasn’t allowed to want.

They reached the front entrance of the hotel and wiped their feet on the enormous welcome mat that stated they’d reached the Salmon Arms Resort. A brass sign above the door said, “Management reserves the right of admission” and below that, “Dress : Smart Casual after 6:30 P.M.”

“Uh oh.” Rowena glanced up, then down at her muddy jeans. “They might not let us in.”

“We’ll plead circumstances.”

He let go of her hand as they walked up to the counter, and he leaned on the marble reception desk.

Thankfully, the TV screen behind the staff was blank.

Subdued emergency lighting lit the area enough to see by.

Tealights in glass jars had been set up in various locations around the lobby and bar area, but were too weak to penetrate deep pockets of shadow.

“Hoping you have a room for us tonight. We hit some unexpected car trouble.”

“Of course, sir. We do have an issue with a lack of electricity right now, but I’m sure it will come back on soon.”

Kurt hoped it didn’t.

“We still have food available. The heating is gas, and the rooms have emergency lighting in the main room and bathroom. For now, at least.”

“Can we get room service?”

“Of course.”

The man behind the desk had a smooth round face and a dazzling white smile. He began processing the booking as Kurt pulled out his Joe Hanssen credit card and passport out of the side pocket of his personal bag.

“Why don’t you go check out the shop, babe. My treat.”

“Okay. Who can resist a chance to souvenir shop?” Rowena pulled a surprised face and then headed over to the candle-lit store.

“It’s been a long day,” Kurt murmured to the receptionist. “We left most of our gear in the car.”

“I’ll have someone fetch your belongings?—”