Snowbound with the Secret Agent Read online

  Damn it. He still had to remain focused on Markova, but it was no longer solely to dismantle the ROC shipment and heroin schedule. It had turned into a way to save Portia’s life.

  Which meant he’d be seeing more of Portia, something he couldn’t afford. He’d call Josh first thing tomorrow morning. SVPD, or someone else at Trail Hikers, needed to take over Portia’s safety, because in addition to the case being lethal to her, Portia was also lethal to Kyle’s carefully built life. A life that allowed him to move freely from mission to mission, with no emotional ties binding him or his agent work.

  And he had California to look forward to. He was only in Silver Valley for the next two or three weeks, enough time to take this ROC op down. There wasn’t a future here, on his own or with Portia. He’d best remember that.

  * * *

  The alley was long, dark, with only a huge wall at the end. Portia was trapped, the woman with the evil eyes no more than ten yards behind her. She willed herself to jump, reach for the top of the wall. In an instant she was in the air, flying, until her feet landed on the solid top of the roof.

  The sound of metal scraping against the brick wall caught her attention and she hesitated, looked down. Icy blue eyes met her gaze as the woman climbed the wall with the aid of the long-bladed knife. The weapon that could have killed Portia behind the library, and then on the train tracks. The laptop thief smiled and her teeth looked like a rabid animal’s. Too late, Portia recognized her mistake. She didn’t trust her instinct to keep running, and now the killer was inches away, Portia’s fear keeping her from flying off the wall. If she’d listened to Kyle and stayed put, she’d be okay. And now she didn’t know where he was.

  With a start Portia jerked awake when a shout rang out. She sat up, struggling against the bedclothes. She panicked when faced with the pitch dark, not knowing where she was. In that same instant, she recalled it wasn’t her apartment but Kyle’s.

  “Portia.” Strong hands on her shoulders, then smoothing the hair from her sweaty brow. “You’re safe. You’re with me, Kyle. You’ve had a nightmare.”

  Mutely, she nodded. Had that scream been in her mind or had it been her? She swallowed, the rough soreness of it validating that yes, she’d yelled in her sleep.

  “Sorry.” Her voice was wispy and didn’t begin to convey the depth of emotions she’d just plumbed.

  He knelt in front of her, but kept a good distance. She got it. As much as she didn’t know him, she was a stranger to Kyle, too. She couldn’t keep a smile from splitting through her angst.

  “That’s more like it.” Kyle’s voice reflected relief, encouragement. And soothed her.

  “It’s funny that we’ve gone through so much together in less than twenty-four hours, and yet we don’t know one another. But I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Is this normal for your kind of work?”

  Kyle’s breath sucked in, and she waited to hear his exhale. He didn’t speak for a good while as she leaned against the sofa back, crossing her legs under her.

  “Taking down a criminal ring like ROC is the definition of intense. So yes, it’s not uncommon for very strong feelings to surface. It’s its own kind of intimacy, I guess you could say.” Kyle leaned away from her, shook his head. “But what you and I are feeling isn’t usual. It’s different.”

  She peeked at him from under her lashes. “And you’re not very happy about that.”

  “It’s not my prerogative to have any feelings about it. I have a job to do, and now we’ve got the added complication of your life being on the line. It’s not like we’re at an island resort, where we could have some fun with this, this smoke between us.”

  “Smoke? Do you mean chemistry?”

  “No. I mean smokin’ hot heat, babe.” The honesty of his bare assessment made all of her most intimate parts tingle, but she saw his quick grin.

  “You’re joking.”

  He stood up and stretched. “Actually, no, I’m not. It’s nothing to take lightly, but we can’t explore whatever kind of connection we’re feeling. Feelings are distractions, Portia. In my line of work, they get people killed.”

  In her life, feelings got her heart crushed. Not anything she wanted to do again, for sure.

  “Can’t you call Josh and have him guard me, or send over another cop to do the same, while you’re chasing down the bad woman?”

  “Is that what you dreamed about?” He’d gone still, standing at the end of the coffee table.

  She nodded. “Yeah. It was a classic anxiety dream, and more intense than I usually have because of yesterday. I get anxiety dreams all the time. Usually I have to take an exam for a class I didn’t attend all year.”

  “Did you ever skip a class in your entire life?” That flash of white again. His grin could make any woman want to rip her clothes off and encourage him to do the same.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She shrugged. “You don’t have to. I know it’s true. Last semester, senior year of college.” It’d been her elective class, ballet, that she’d purposefully missed in order to take advantage of a local politician’s meet-and-greet. “That’s when I started to realize I wanted to be active in my community. Not necessarily in politics, but something that would make a difference.”

  His grin twisted ruefully. “The last semester of school doesn’t count, not really.”

  “And I suppose you skipped class all the time?”

  “Never. My scholarship was at stake, and the cost of the class exorbitant. I would never have risked it.”

  “So you’re the pot calling the kettle—”

  “No, I’m the kettle who recognized another kettle.”

  “Point taken.” She tugged the covers back up around her, not wanting him to think she expected more conversation. “I’m fine, Kyle. You can go back to bed.”

  “I’m just down the hall if you need me. You can still take my bed and I’ll sleep here.”

  “That’s all right, but thank you anyway.”

  “You’re welcome. See you in the a.m.” He’d already begun to return to his room. Once she was left alone again, sleep didn’t waste time returning. This time it was dreamless.

  Chapter 7

  Kyle called Josh the next morning, only speaking freely because he was using his TH secure cell phone.

  “It’s not SVPD’s job to provide personal security, Kyle. You know that.” Josh sounded annoyed and Kyle knew he’d probably woken up his buddy. The sun had barely breached the horizon when he’d called. Portia was still fast asleep on the ancient sofa. She was going to have a crick in her neck, for certain.

  “She needs guarding until Markova is out of the picture.”

  “Don’t you mean until ROC is out of Silver Valley?” Josh took a wider perspective in his Trail Hiker responsibilities, not focused in on one target like Kyle had to be.

  “No. I’d bet Markova hasn’t told her superiors anything about the train track incident, or about the laptops, or her attempted break-in and murder last night. I have no doubt she would have killed Portia on the spot if she had a chance to.” He relayed how he’d kept the weapon, and why he believed Portia was in mortal danger. “Markova’s doing this on her own, and doesn’t want anyone to think she’s incompetent.”

  “Then if we’re only worried about one potential murderer, Portia can stay safe with basic countermeasures.”

  “You mean on her own?” Kyle’s insides became as twisted as the web of ROC crime that riddled central Pennsylvania. He knew what the protocol was for protecting innocent civilians. There wasn’t much, actually, because the local LEAs were stretched too thin to provide personal security. And TH agents were operatives, not bodyguards. But Portia...

  “You’re doing it on the phone, man.” Josh’s voice in his ear yanked him out of the dank mental rabbit hole. “Portia’s a big
girl. If you want, I have an idea on where she can stay for the next week or two while we ramp up our efforts against ROC.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “I have a family friend who invested in a beautiful piece of property that’s alongside the Appalachian Trail. Scenic views, privacy, an unexpected place for a town librarian. Anyway, they need someone to house-sit while they’re on an extended vacation down south. You know, away from this dang winter.”

  It had been brutally cold, but Kyle hadn’t noticed it for the past few days. Not since his case had become so wrapped around Portia DiNapoli. He was in a world of trouble and he knew it. His attraction to her refused to listen to his best mental reasoning.

  “The place is available right now?”

  “Yes.” Josh gave him the address. “Before you go there, bring Portia here so that we can tell her a little more about what she’s up against. She can make her own decision about where to stay until we catch Markova and take down the crime ring.”

  “She’ll think she can remain in her apartment.” And he hated that she did.

  “Not once we fill her in on more than what she read in the paper. The train tracks would be enough to scare away most people, but Portia’s always had steel in her spine.”

  Kyle chuckled. “So I’m not the only one who’s noticed it?”

  “Hell no. When you meet Annie, ask her. She’s known Portia just as long as I have. She’ll fill you in.”

  Only after they’d agreed to talk in a bit and disconnected did Kyle realize he hadn’t corrected Josh on his assumption that he’d be doing anything social in Silver Valley. He and Josh had struck up an easy friendship that wasn’t just business, as they’d told one another a bit here and there about their personal lives. As a rule, Kyle kept to work and sleep for the entirety of a mission, only allowing himself a social outlet like grabbing a beer once his job was done and he’d left a place. That was fine when his residence had been in New York City and he’d taken shorter Trail Hiker assignments all over the globe as they came up. Trail Hikers paid lucratively and allowed him to enjoy New York when he wasn’t on a mission, and kept a nice loft on the Lower East Side. But he’d been in Silver Valley for over a month, with no end in sight to the current op. And now he’d met Portia.

  Was she the reason that he felt more at home in Silver Valley than any other place in over a decade? The last few days he’d tried to convince himself that Pennsylvania wasn’t for him, but something had changed. The town made sense to him, and he was invested in getting ROC the hell out of it. Not in his usual way—he was an agent and of course wanted to protect innocent civilians wherever the job took him. But he’d inexplicably become more invested in Silver Valley.

  You’re still going back to California.

  He was. His purchase of the small lot adjacent an almond orchard had been his way of promising himself there was more to life than his undercover work, in case he ever tired of it. As the years went by, he also came to the realization that agents couldn’t keep up the pace of operations he had much past the age of thirty-five to forty. Sure, there were Trail Hiker and FBI agents twenty, twenty-five years his senior. But they mostly conceded the heavy physical demands of specific ops to the more junior agents. It was life.

  And he loved it out west, he really did. Who would willingly accept these freakishly cold winters, the sticky humidity of the summer? Last summer he’d sworn to himself he’d not spend another hot August on the East Coast. Give him the dry air, sunny clime and endless beach of California any day.

  Kyle walked out to his kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, but the scent of roasted beans hit him before he left his room. Portia stood in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around one of his mugs, a catlike grin on her face. Her hair tumbled around her scrubbed skin, still damp.

  “You took a shower.” He hadn’t heard or noticed that while talking to Josh. Not very agent-like on his part.

  “Good morning to you, too. Yes, I showered. And I’m afraid I used your extra towel—you only have what’s in that tiny linen closet, I assume?”

  “Yeah.” He helped himself to coffee, ignored how she moved far out of his reach. He opened the refrigerator to find the creamer gone. He noticed she’d borrowed his robe, too. And fought the urge to tug at the belt around her waist, open the garment and gain access to her luscious breasts.

  “Here you go.” Portia held the plastic container out to him. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a chocolate-mint creamer dude.”

  He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “It was 75 percent off at the grocery. Left over from Christmas.”

  “You don’t have to justify your sweet tooth to me, Agent King. Is that the right title for you?”

  “Not at all. It’s Kyle. Always.” He faced her, allowed his first sip of coffee to be mixed with the delicious sight of Portia in his kitchen. Warmth pulsed through his chest, down his belly and right to his dick. He wanted to brush it away, tell himself that it was just a beautiful woman’s effect on him. That it was merely the creamy skin of her cleavage, visible above the V of the robe, the tops of her breasts rounded and highly kissable. As were her mouth, her long throat. But it was Portia’s energy that wrapped around him, made it feel as if she belonged in his kitchen. With him.

  “Okay.” She eyed him and he had the startling awareness that he was being studied in a way he knew too well. The same way he watched a criminal target.

  He knew Portia wasn’t a killer, but why was she looking at him as if she were going to take him out?

  * * *

  Portia had awakened to an ache in her neck from the rickety old sofa, but couldn’t deny she’d had the most solid nine hours of sleep since she didn’t know when. The blanket she’d tossed back was a clear sign that Kyle had made her comfortable before he left her alone to rest.

  As she stared at him, her body so attuned to the sheer strength available in every inch of his frame, she acknowledged that her attraction to this man wasn’t going away anytime soon. And that it might be more than a physical connection. Kyle was the first man she’d wanted to know all about, from what kind of kid he’d been to how many women he’d loved, in forever. But he saw her as a job, someone he had to protect.

  “How long are you going to have to babysit me?”

  His brows shot up. “Ah, that’s an interesting question. I just got off the phone with Josh and we’re coming up with a solution. You’ll have a place to stay for the duration.”

  “Duration?” Please don’t let it affect the gala.

  “Two, three weeks. Maybe a month, but heaven help us all if it takes that long to drive these losers out of Silver Valley.”

  “The gala’s in two weeks. I can’t stop working on it, or miss it. It’s taken a year to plan.” She’d booked the new venue for this year’s bigger, more lucrative fund-raiser the week before last year’s event.

  “You can keep working on it from a distance. How much in-person time does a dance take?”

  “It’s not a ‘dance.’ It’s the largest charity event in the Susquehanna region, held right here in Silver Valley. We’re expecting almost a thousand guests.”

  “Great. Among those hundreds of guests, there has to be at least a few people who could take over for you, help you out?”

  “No. Not this late.” She ran through the list of items yet to finish. It was always tight, this close. Organizing the silent auction items took her an entire weekend last year; this year’s contributions were twice as valuable and numbered a third more. “There’s a lot of coordination that happens last minute, too. I have to be on-site.”

  Kyle put his coffee mug down and she mentally smacked her forehead for even noticing the hair on his forearm, the size of his capable hands. Hands that had saved her yesterday, and that she wanted to find out more about. Like for instance, how they’d feel on her breasts, or pressing her buttocks as he brought her pelvis up against hi
s.

  She was in deep water with this man, and she’d only known his name since last night.

  “Don’t worry, Portia, you’ll figure it all out. And if we’re lucky, it won’t be an issue—the case will be finished before you have to be more visible again.” The conciliatory softness that played over his hard features made the tight ball of sexual awareness in her belly loosen and spread through her, across her breasts and down to the place between her legs that began to throb for him. Her rational mind didn’t even bother trying to fight her want, her need.

  When Portia became this mesmerized by a man, she rarely let it go. Not until she explored her desire, found out if it was passing or more substantial. And she’d never felt this strongly this quickly about any other man. Ever.

  Mistaking her quiet stare for disagreement, he stepped toward her. “Seriously. It’s not anything you can control, the hiding-out part. It’s to keep you safe, and the resources we’d need to let you keep up your regular routine can go toward catching the bad guys. It’ll work out, Portia.”

  “I know that. I’m fighting it, but you have to understand I only want what’s best for Silver Valley.” And she did. If half of what she’d read was true, then Kyle and Josh knew so much more.

  The combination of feeling overwhelmed at having to do something she’d never done before, hiding out, and feeling that she somehow had a part in it because she’d stupidly chased the laptop thief instead of leaving it all to the police, wore her out. And made her push past her inhibitions. So what if she barely knew Kyle? They could both die at the hands of ROC, and would she want to die wondering what it would be like to be in this man’s arms? To have him in hers?

  “Portia...” Kyle spoke her name in a warning tone. His eyes shone bright silver even though the kitchen had light from only the stovetop light and the initial spill of dawn light that crept across the vintage linoleum.