Page 28 of Between Love and Honor

“I need to get out of here.” As she dragged her legs from beneath the covers, she was alarmed to discover she wasn’t wearing anything but an oversized T-shirt. Looking down, she saw the Secret Service emblem emblazoned across the chest.

“I’m afraid it was necessary to cut you from your wet clothing,” Terrie explained. “Agent Groesch here, was nice enough to loan you something from her locker.”

Unfortunately, the agent hadn’t bothered to include a pair of underwear. It seemed that if she wanted to leave, she’d be making her walk of shame out of the White House going commando. She had to hand it to Ben and his fellow agents, the only thing more effective in holding her captive in this room would be actual physical restraints.

“Any chance I can borrow some clothes so I can leave?”

The housekeeper handed Quinn a cup of tea. “We’ll see what we can round up, after the doctor has cleared you to go. For now, let’s get some fluids in you. Then perhaps a shower. I’m sure you want to wash the Chesapeake off your body.”

Taking a few resigned sips from the hot tea, she silently pondered her situation. Even if she could distract the housekeeper, Agent Groesch didn’t look as if she was about to let down her guard enough for her to escape. Never mind the dozens of agents and uniformed officers likely manning the White House, all of whom were bound to stop her from getting away. Not only that, but the stench from her hair was offending even Quinn. The idea of a warm shower was too good to pass up.

Besides, both she and Ben were safe where they were at the moment. The fact that Alexi thought she was dead certainly gave her an advantage. And she fully intended to use it. All she needed now was to find out where Ben stashed his tuxedo before Alexi did. The idea of spending more time with Ben while trying to coax it out of him wouldn’t exactly be torture, either.

“A shower sounds wonderful,” she said.

CHAPTER 7

“DID SHE SAY anything at all last night?” Griffin asked.

Ben shook his head before taking a long pull from his coffee. He, Adam, and Griff were camped out in the director’s office on the ground floor of the White House.

The fact that it was a Saturday, combined with POTUS being out of town, meant the office was experiencing a rare couple of hours of quiet.

“The doctor gave her something so she’d sleep.”

Not that Quinn’s sleep was exactly peaceful. Ben spent the previous night lying beside her in the bed and doing his best to comfort her during her frequent bouts of restlessness. At times she’d been so agitated that it was all he could do to calm her. Eventually, she’d settled into a deep slumber, her body clinging to his like a barnacle.

Not that he minded.

Much.

The torture of having her in his arms again and not being able to do anything wasn’t quite as painful as the idea that the girl he once loved was now involved with a criminal who didn’t give a second thought to killing her. There was something he was missing here. He was pretty sure he’d find the answer he was looking for if he could unlock the complicated puzzle that was Quinn Darby. But he was lying if he didn’t admit to being a bit apprehensive of what he might uncover.

“When she first came to, she mentioned something about not letting ‘him’ get it,” Adam said. “I think that’s where you need to start.”

Ben already had a good idea of who the ‘him’ was. “Fill me in on her friend, Alexi Ronoff,” he said to Griffin.

“I don’t have much more than what I told you yesterday.” Griffin opened a folder and spread the contents out on the coffee table. “Although, I did some digging to figure out how he was invited to the White House in the first place. Turns out he was a last-minute substitution to the Russian delegation when someone else had to bow out.”

“Do you have a name for the guest who canceled?” Ben had an ugly hunch he already knew the answer to his own question.

Griffin consulted his notes. “A banker by the name of Kir Abramov.”

Ben gripped the back of his neck before blowing out a breath.

“Interesting,” Adam commented. “You don’t seem surprised. Care to share?”

“Abramov is dead.”

His buddies exchanged a look. Ben held up his hand.

“That’s all the sharing I can do right now. At least until I can get some answers out of Quinn.”

Mainly, what the “it” was she didn’t want Ronoff to find. Although, he was beginning to have a good idea about that, as well. Just how she fit into the picture still eluded him though. Not to mention how Ronoff knew about VOYEUR.

Adam shifted in his chair. “We can’t hide her here much longer, Bennett. POTUS and FLOTUS are due back tomorrow night.”

“Clearly, Ronoff is one bad dude,” Griffin added. “He’s bound to figure out she’s not dead. Then what?”

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