Page 75 of Between Love and Honor

“No.”

He maneuvered them around to the corner of the cabana. Once he was sure they were out of range of the surveillance cameras, he pinned her against the wall with his body. She blinked her long lashes several times, but wisely remained quiet, because he was the one who was going to do all the talking. Not talking. Yelling. Demanding answers. Commanding her to never disappear again.

Except when he stared into her luminous eyes, the words seemed to get trapped in his throat. Taming Quinn was going to take some compromise. On both their parts.

She smiled up at him serenely before snaking a hand between their bodies and caressing his cheek with her warm palm.

“I’m here,” she whispered, seemingly reading his mind.

“And I’m not going anywhere. I’m done disappearing. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

Her lips found his and he was instantly lost. He kissed her back trying his best to convey all the things he wanted to say. Needed to say. At the same time, she was communicating with her body all the things he needed to hear.

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

Pulling out of the kiss, Ben rested his forehead on the wall behind her.

“What is it now?” he demanded.

“Ronoff has sent another message,” Dorothy replied.

“The secretary wants you both in the Sit Room immediately.”

Quinn patted his chest with her palms. “Let’s go take down the black hats. Then I want to go on a long sail on that fabulous boat of yours.”

He grinned foolishly. “It’s a date.”

Hand in hand, they followed Dorothy back to the West Wing.

“You’re not going to like this,” Adam said when they entered the Situation Room to find another video of Ronoff frozen on the screen.

“Let me guess,” Ben responded. “He picked a public place.”

Adam nodded. “With only one way in or out.”

The secretary nodded and the video began to roll. This time, Ronoff was sitting aboard a yacht, a drink in hand and the Jefferson Memorial in the background.

“Hello, my friend. It is a beautiful day for a sail, no?” the Russian asked. “I find I am very impatient to retrieve what is mine. You will meet me tonight at ten p.m. in the VIP gondola of the Ferris wheel in the National Harbor. Come alone. Bring my list and I will return your numbers to you.” The video ended abruptly.

Ben swore violently.

“My thoughts exactly,” Adam said. “The damn thing sits at the end of a pier crowded with tourists. The wheel is a hundred and eighty feet at the highest point. There won’t be a place for me to get a clear shot. Not only that, but I don’t like the idea of you spending twelve minutes trapped alone in a gondola with that douchebag.”

Neither did Ben. But not because he didn’t trust Ronoff. The Russian was the one who needed to worry. After what he had done to Quinn, Ben wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep from strangling the man before he retrieved his AI.

“Alexi doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. If he’s suggesting a face-to-face meeting, he himself won’t do anything to harm Ben,” Quinn chimed in. “His only interest is that list.

By now, he must be getting desperate. Earning his father’s respect is vital to him. Since his release from prison, the older Ronoff has been restructuring his criminal corporation. Alexi wants a seat at that table. He’ll do anything to get it.” She turned to Ben. “If Alexi believed you weren’t the black hat you purport to be, he’d never risk even two minutes alone with you. Congratulations. Your alias is airtight.”

They shared a smile and he couldn’t help the burst of pride he felt at her compliment. He’d never be able to share all the details of how he’d been serving his country these past few years with anyone else, but at least Quinn knew. And that was all that mattered.

“So how are we to proceed?” the secretary asked.

“There is another way in,” Ben said. “He just showed it to us. That’s probably the same yacht he used in Watertown. He’ll anchor it upriver and come into the harbor on Jet Skis like they rode in on the other night.”

“It’s an ostentatious yacht complete with a heliport, registered in the US Virgin Islands,” Quinn supplied. “Her name is Darina, after Alexi’s mother. He had her berthed in New York the last time I checked.”

The door behind them opened and Griffin slipped in.

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