Page 69 of Between Love and Honor

The jury was still out on whether or not she fully trusted him, but he figured they had a lifetime to work on that.

“Agent Segar,” the secretary prompted.

With one last peek at Quinn before she disappeared down the long hall, he made his way back into the Situation Room. He had a fish to catch. A big one.

* * *

QUINN DID HER best to appear calm on the outside. But on the inside, she was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

Beginning with her feelings about Ben.

He loves me.

His love was a gift she never expected to receive. Especially after the way she treated him thirteen years ago. Last night, he’d been a caring partner. She’d expect nothing less from him. But it had been too much to hope that their love-making meant as much to him as it did to her. Except it apparently did. She was so giddy, she wanted to dance and laugh and shout about it to the heavens.

Except she couldn’t. Not when he was putting himself in so much danger. He didn’t know Alexi Ronoff like she did. While she didn’t doubt Ben’s ability to outsmart his opponents, there was still the wildcard of the unknown traitor to deal with.

Trust no one, her handler had warned her.

Despite her little outburst moments ago, she trusted Ben. But that didn’t mean she was happy about him taking on so much danger to protect her and her parents. Keeping her parents safe was something she needed to take care of herself. And she needed to do it quickly. She fingered the burner phone she’d nicked from his desk earlier. It was aptly named because she suddenly felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket.

Dorothy led them up a flight of stairs to the first-floor lobby of the West Wing. The offices were mostly empty as the older woman steered them toward the Cabinet Room, then past the press offices. The rose garden was on their right, offering a sanctuary from all the chaos of the weekend. A marine guard held the door for them as they crossed into the residence via the Palm Room.

“Is there a loo on this level, by chance, Dorothy?” she asked as soon as they entered the Center Hall.

“In the Map Room.” Dorothy led the way to a room decorated in Chippendale furniture and the aforementioned maps. “I’ll be right here waiting.”

Quinn was relieved the other woman didn’t follow her into the toilet. Still, she only had a few minutes to accomplish her mission before she was sure Dorothy would come in after her. Once inside, she powered up the burner phone. Her hands shook as she dialed her mother’s number. Before it even connected, a voice came on and informed her the phone didn’t have international service.

It was worth a shot.

She weighed her options. Calling the British embassy was too risky. Not until they knew who the traitor was. Her only recourse was to reach out to her handler on the nonsecure line and have him get a message to her parents.

Punching in the number she’d committed to memory years ago, she texted him telling him she was very much alive, Alexi didn’t have the list, but her parents were still in grave danger. She asked him to please make sure every precaution was taken to ensure their safety. That would have to do for now.

Just as she was about to power off the phone, however, an incoming text came in, surprising her. Her handler wanted to meet. It was urgent, he insisted. Impossible, she nearly typed back before considering the possibilities. What did he mean by urgent? Had her parents’ safety already been compromised? Or had the traitor been located? Could there be a way of keeping Ben from confronting Alexi?

Ben would never agree to her leaving the White House to meet with her handler. The idea of sneaking out and betraying their still-fragile trust of one another made her stomach turn. But if she could get some information that would protect him—and her parents—it was a risk she would just have to take. A plan was already beginning to hatch in her head. She said a silent prayer that he would forgive her—especially if she could give him information on the traitor.

She named a location close to the White House. A public place where they could both exchange a few words without being noticed. And one she could get to quickly. Her handler agreed to meet her there in thirty minutes.

Turning the phone off, she shoved it in one of the cabinets. It was too risky to keep with her. Dorothy might appear to be motherly, but she had the clairvoyance of a Highland witch.

“You’re back,” Josslyn cried when Quinn and Dorothy returned to the sitting area in the residence.

Agent Groesch looked up from the seating chart she was helping organize. The little terrier yapped a few welcome barks.

“Yes.” She sighed as she dropped onto the sofa next to Ben’s friend. “I found it was all too much for me. My anxiety about my parents was causing me to distract Ben.”

The dog trotted over from its bed and began to dance around Quinn’s feet.

“Fergus, leave her alone,” Josslyn commanded.

“It’s okay.” Quinn reached down and played with Fergus’s soft ears. “I need something to divert me.”

“Well you’ve come to the right place.” Agent Groesch indicated the place cards spread on the table in front of them. “Welcome to wedding central.”

“I heard there might be cake samples somewhere,” Dorothy said, sounding hopeful.

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