Page 20 of Elusive Promise

"Well, I've been traveling recently, so I haven't completely made myself at home. You should be happy about that. The place is spotless."

"Does that mean you're normally a slob?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I don't spend a lot of time thinking about cleaning. There are more important things to worry about."

"Yes, there are," she said with a sigh, thinking about Jasmine and how every minute that passed made the odds of getting her back safe and unharmed that much longer.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Some water would be nice."

"Sure." He moved into the kitchen and opened the cupboard by the sink and then moved to the one by the stove and pulled out a glass.

So, he didn't know where his own glasses were kept—interesting. That just confirmed her suspicions that this place was a safe house or he'd moved in yesterday. He filled her glass with tap water and brought it back to her.

"I should have asked how you're feeling," he said. "Do you want some ice for your eye?"

"It's fine. It's not that bad."

"Most women would get more upset about a black eye."

"Well, I'm not most women."

He gave her a thoughtful look. "I'm beginning to realize that."

She wandered over to the window as she sipped her water. It was eight in the morning, and the city was waking up. In the distance, she could see the new Freedom Tower that had replaced the World Trade Center, destroyed in the attacks of 9/11. It rose up in the sky like a proud phoenix, and it made her feel happy to see it.

Closer in, the High Line Walkway built over old train tracks and now a popular walking and running path wound its way above the city streets. There were the shops and restaurants in Chelsea, a farmers' market a few blocks away and a parade getting ready to begin. Tourists were coming out of their hotels and venturing into cafés, ready to eat and walk and explore one of the biggest and most interesting cities in the world.

She'd thought about living in New York more than once, but the kind of work she did for the bureau kept her out in the field and renting an apartment that would be empty more often than not in one of the most expensive cities in the world did not seem like a good idea.

"Something interesting out there?" Jared asked, coming up next to her.

"There's already so much going on." She waved her hand toward the view. "Manhattan is chaotic, energized, vibrant, alive…"

"It is all that and more. The best part is the food. You can travel around the world in cuisine without walking more than a few blocks." He folded his arms in front of his broad chest. "From the way you're speaking about the city, I don't get the feeling you live here."

"I think you already know that I don't. I've been in San Francisco the last six months. It's a beautiful city, but a much different vibe."

"Where were you before that?"

She waved a careless hand. "Here, there, and everywhere. I move around a lot."

"With the state department?"

"Yes. And you still haven't told me how you know that about me."

"It's easy to find anything on the internet."

She let that go, because, clearly, he wasn't going to give her a direct answer. "What about you? Are you a native New Yorker?"

"I was born here, yes." A shadow moved through his eyes. "I've both loved and hated this city."

There was a ton of emotion packed behind his simple statement, and, for the first time, she felt like Jared had said something truthful. But he didn't seem inclined to continue talking.

He was definitely an enigma—a very interesting, handsome, sexy puzzle. Her fingers tingled in memory of the handshake they'd shared at the diner, reminding her that she needed to keep her wits about her. This man had an almost irresistible attractiveness. Last night, in his expensive suit, acting debonair and sophisticated, he'd given off a James Bond vibe. Today, in dark jeans and a gray pullover, a shadow of beard on his face, his eyes a bit tired from his sleepless night, he looked even more appealing.

As their gazes clung together, something shifted in his eyes. Unfortunately, she had a feeling he'd just pulled a curtain down, instead of up. Maybe he regretted his candid comment.

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