Page 90 of Between Love and Honor

Tears formed at the back of her eyes. As much as she treasured the gesture, they’d never be able to fully appreciate their love for one another as long as the traitor threatened. There had to be an answer.

Two hours later, Ben was face down on the mattress in a deep slumber following another bout of zealous lovemaking. Sleep evaded Quinn, however. She was still trying to figure a way out of their dilemma. There was something she was missing. A vital clue she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The musky scent of sex permeated the cabin as she kept replaying the evening over and over again in her mind.

That’s it!

Her handler had been on the pier this evening. She was sure of it. With all the hullaballoo surrounding Alexi’s death, she’d forgotten completely about catching a whiff of his distinctive cologne. What had he wanted? How had he found her? She needed to contact him. Especially if she and Ben were going dark as he planned.

After carefully untangling her limbs from his, she edged out of the bed and gathered up her scattered clothing. Her blouse was a goner so she nicked a T-shirt from one of the drawers instead. She quietly slipped into the loo and got dressed. There had been a burner phone near the boat’s navigation station earlier. She said a silent hallelujah when it was still right where she’d seen it. So as not to chance waking Ben, she decided to sneak out to the aft deck to make her call. Her senses must have been teasing her, because as she opened the cabin door, she swore she smelled the cologne yet again.

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. A man with a trench coat and an umbrella was seated on one of the benches, his posture so relaxed it was as if he owned the boat. But it was the gun in his hand that had her drawing in a shocked breath. Particularly since it was pointed at the Secretary of Homeland.

“Hullo, my dear. I’ve been waiting for you.”

For the first time ever, her skin crawled at the sound of her handler’s voice.

* * *

BEN SHOT UP out of the bed. He wasn’t sure what had awakened him, but the empty space beside him had his heart racing. She wouldn’t leave him again.

Not willingly. She’d promised as much the night before.

His heart beat faster. The sound of hushed voices from the deck had him yanking on his jeans. He didn’t bother with shoes, but grabbed his Glock instead. As silently as he could, he crept toward the stairs. His gut did a somersault when he recognized Quinn’s voice above. But it was the other voices that had him clicking the safety off his weapon.

With as much stealth as he could muster, he opened the cabin door.

“Stay back,” Quinn and the secretary shouted at the same time.

As if he was going to listen to either one of them. Not when there was a man with a gun pointed at his boss’s chest sitting on his aft deck. Even worse, he had an umbrella trained in Quinn’s direction. He rounded out his ensemble with a trench coat and a bowler hat. All that was missing was a monocle and he could have been the guy from Monopoly.

“I told you the guy was real.”

Ben casually strolled onto the deck, hoping to ease some of the tension with a little levity. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of one of the secretary’s detail face down in a pool of blood on the dock. Caracas was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.

But he didn’t have time to puzzle that out right now. One agent was down and he was not going to lose the secretary or Quinn. Time to figure out what game this cat was playing.

“Ah, welcome, Agent Segar. Or should I say the Mariner? I’m glad we are finally all here,” Mr. Monopoly said, his words dripping with a very British accent. “Place your weapon on the floor and kick it over to me or they both die.”

He reluctantly did as he was told before risking a peek at Quinn. Her lips were drawn tight with disgust.

“You know this guy?” he asked her.

“Unfortunately.” Her tone was brittle and she looked poised for battle. “This is all my fault. I never should have sought him out earlier. All this time I thought he could be trusted.”

So this was who she’d met at the botanic gardens. A rendezvous Secretary Lyle had sanctioned. There were pieces to this puzzle he wasn’t privy to and right now he was pissed off at his boss for letting Quinn get swept up in this mess. Ben edged closer to her.

Mr. Monopoly jabbed his umbrella in her direction.

“Stay where you are!”

Cautious of what might be inside the tip of that thing, he did as the guy asked and froze.

“But we’re not all here, Sir Rodney,” the secretary drawled, cool as a cucumber despite having a gun pointed at her heart from four feet away. “We’re missing one important person. Where is she?”

Ben’s ears perked up at her question. There was a “she” and damn if the secretary didn’t know it all along. Mr. Monopoly remained quiet, his only tell that he was annoyed, a slight snarl of his upper lip.

“Ah, so you don’t know where she is, do you?” the secretary taunted. “Is that what this is all about? You expected her to show up here tonight, as well.”

Mr. Monopoly cocked the gun. Quinn tensed for flight. Ben rocked forward on his toes preparing to stop her. It was his job to take a bullet for the secretary, not hers.

---