Page 43 of Risky Obsession

“Why do you say that? Roger that?”

“Sorry, habit from my Navy days.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ha, didn’t Aria tell you I was in the Navy?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Why didn’t she? Is there something in his military career that raised a red flag?

He pointed ahead to an intersection. “Turn left up there.”

My mind was in a spin as I pondered the extra information on Kane. I’d met my share of men in law enforcement and many of them came from military backgrounds that they liked to brag about.

But I’d never met a man like Kane. He was both charming and cloaked in mystery that lingered around him like a shroud. His military career added another dimension that I never anticipated.

Kane was unusually quiet with his gaze fixed on the passing landscape as I navigated through the winding roads. The scenery outside shifted from quaint villages to lush forests.

Does he regret telling me about his time in the Navy?

I tightened my fingers around the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead as I maneuvered through narrow streets.

What’s going through his mind?

“Okay, here we are.Friedrichenshein.” He pointed at the sign announcing our arrival. “Take the next left.”

He indicated to a road off the main highway.

The old town was all cobblestone alleys and stone and timber homes adorned with flower boxes. It was like stepping back in time and nothing like any city I had ever been to before. I had lived in Australia all my life, and only two places, Sydney and Rosebud. My only ventures overseas were a work trip to New Zealand to apprehend a criminal offender, and a one-week time-out I treated myself to in Bali for my twenty-fifth birthday, six years ago.

The anticipation of exploring these ancient streets rippled through me. Especially with Kane at my side.

Because he was an expert on historical things . . . I told myself.

The bustling town was a maze of hilly streets lined with old-looking buildings and an overwhelming array of antique and old wares shops, cafés, and pubs.

I found a parking space along the street. As we strolled toward a nearby cafe, it seemed that every shop owner was busy bringing their goods outside to display on temporary tables lined up along the footpath.

“Everyone is still setting up.” Kane’s gaze drifted to a large copper urn that a man with a fierce scowl was positioning on a table. “Good idea to have some coffee first.”

“And some food,” I added. “I’m hungry now.”

We agreed on the first café we came across and a bell tinkled overhead as we entered through the heavy glass door. The fresh scent of pastries wafted in the air as we strolled to the front counter, which was overloaded with dozens of delicious-looking treats.

Kane’s eyes sparkled as he surveyed the display. “These look so good. Let’s get one of everything,” he joked, flashing me a grin.

“Don’t tempt me.” I chuckled. “I have a real sweet tooth.”

“My weakness too.”

He gave the young woman behind the counter a smile that I imagined opened many doors for him. “Do you speak English?”

“English, German, French, excited three-year-old, grumpy old man. I speak every language. And failing that, just point at what you want.” Herobviously well-practiced monologue ended with her looking like she was going to fall into Kane’s eyes.

He chuckled, demonstrating just how charming he could be. “Amazing. I’ll have a double shot espresso and one of those apple strudels.” His smile grew bigger as he wriggled his brows at me. “What about you?”

“A latte for me, and I’ll try the cherry strudel.”