What would he say if she blurted out that she’d honed her skills at Fort Monctron in Portsmouth? Or the Joint Services Intelligence school in Scotland? Would he find her skill set as sexy as she found his? Hardly. He was a man after all. One who put a great deal of stock in doing the right thing. Quinn had spent her adult life blurring the lines between right and wrong more often than not.

“I was on the marksmanship team at university,” she recited the well-rehearsed fib.

She held his gaze for several long heartbeats, daring him to contradict her. His left eyebrow slowly made its way up to his hairline in question, but, thankfully, he didn’t offer up a response. Still, she doubted he believed her.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Next question. Why is Ronoff trying to kill me?”

This part of the conversation was a lot trickier to navigate. Quinn was quickly beginning to realize there was more to mild-mannered Ben Segar than he let on. He would be safer knowing the truth. Better able to protect himself from Ronoff. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to tell him. To share her burden with him.

But she couldn’t.

Trust no one, her handler had commanded.

Even if she hadn’t been warned against confiding in anyone, it had been her mantra for too long now to ignore.

Not that she believed Ben, a computer analyst with friends in high places, was the traitor. But there was too much at risk to take on a sidekick right now. Not even a sexy one who made her long for a life she’d given up. Until she had what she came for, she’d just have to be more diligent in protecting him.

She didn’t like what she had to do any more than he was going to like it, but she clenched her jaw firmly shut and gave her shoulders a shrug.

“That’s what I thought.” He took another step closer so that their bodies were nearly touching.

Idiot that she was, Quinn welcomed the shiver of excitement his nearness always stirred up within her. His fingers glided against her cheek until he was gently caressing her jaw in his palm.

“One way or another, Quinn Darby,” he whispered. “I’m going to unlock your secrets. All of them.”

Her eyelids were drifting shut in anticipation of his kiss, when his hand fell from her face. Disappointment flared and that made her angry. Angry at Ben for what he could do to her. But mostly angry at herself for allowing it.

“Let’s go find the mess.” He made his way to the door.

“Suddenly, I’m starving.”

CHAPTER 10

BEN HAD TO hand it to her, despite the British refinement and the smoking hot body, Quinn adapted quickly to every situation without complaint. She’d calmly climbed over the side of the cutter like she’d done it a thousand times before, but not without thanking the captain and the crew for their hospitality first.

They were taken by dinghy to a private dock a mile south of Watertown. Waiting there for them was Rich’s fishing boat. His brother-in-law had followed Ben’s instructions to the letter. Rich had retrieved Quinn’s luggage from the B and B and stowed them on board along with her purse, including the damn lockpicks, but not the little revolver. Ben had had enough of her flaunting her prowess with a gun for one day. The other bag contained her camera and some food for the night.

“Everything accounted for?” he asked her as he started up the engine, hoping she’d check for the lockpicks or the gun so he could question her about them.

But she blithely sorted through her belongings, suddenly not as concerned about her things as she had been a couple of hours ago. “I believe so.”

Definitely an enigma that woman. She never did the expected. He’d been serious aboard the ship, however. She was coming clean tonight whether she liked it or not.

A summer storm was forming off in the distance decorating the skyline with deep blues and purples. In order to make sure they’d outrun it, Ben pushed the throttle so the boat was skimming the water. Quinn stood beside him, staring at the bay in wonderment. Conversation was nearly impossible over the roar of the engines. She turned to him, a generous smile on her face.

“I’ve missed this,” she shouted.

Something about her expression told him it was one of the few truthful statements she’d made since their paths had crossed again. He smiled back, glad to have even a small glimpse of the old Quinn. Her face lit up again when he pointed the bow toward the cove housing the Think Tank. The engines quieted when he throttled down, allowing them to drift into the small slip concealed by overgrown bushes.

“It’s still standing,” she marveled.

A flurry of expressions passed over her face. Surprise.

Bashfulness. And finally, unadulterated joy. He hadn’t expected that. Throughout the past two days, he’d been searching for the girl he once knew. Hoping to reconnect with the one he’d loved with all his heart. The grownup version of Quinn Darby had kept that girl under lock and key, however.

Until now.

“Tell me we’re staying here?” she practically begged, surprising him yet again.