Page 44 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

“I’m so sorry,” she said, sniffing into his shirt.

His arms closed hesitantly around her.

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, I did. I suspected you.”

“Of what?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“Of being an unfeeling bastard.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his body.

“Well, at least you’re not accusing me of being Santa Claus or Superman.” One hand lightly rubbed her back again. “Hey, hey, what brought this on?”

“I don’t know. You just seem too good at handling everything to be a mere journalist.”

A dry chuckle rumbled through his chest. “There’s more than one kind of journalist, you know. There’s the sort that lives in an upscale apartment and works in a high-rise office, writing for a deadline. Then there are guys like me that rarely see the inside of their apartment, talk to editors mostly on the phone or on social media, and hate deadlines. I’ve been jailed in China, shot at in Lebanon, and been knocked over by an exploding bomb in Jerusalem. I’ve spent most of my life living out of my backpack. So, if it seems like I’m handling this well, it’s because I’ve been through similar situations before. Although none so desperate as this one.” He chuckled. “Honest, I don’t wear a spandex suit and cape under my clothes.”

Georgia laughed a little. “I never thought that. I thought—” She lifted her face from his shoulder and tried to find his eyes in the darkness. They gleamed humorously at her and the laughter she saw in them made her breath catch. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. But one of these days—” she breathed, staring at him. Her lower belly grew warm and liquid, her limbs heavy. She wanted nothing more than to sink into him, to soak up his warmth. His strength.

“One of these days...?” he prompted, the laughter in his eyes fading slightly, being replaced by something darker, hungry.

“One of these days, I’d like to spend some time with you in a place where no one is chasing us, threatening to shoot us or blow us up. Somewhere that’s not dark.” She tilted her head, considering the options. “In the sunshine.”

Peter looked down at her, the humor leaving his eyes, leaving only the dark intensity behind.

“I’d like that, too.”

Georgia ignored the flutter in her belly at his low quiet words. He didn’t mean them the way it sounded. Did he?

“Well then, maybe we should make a date.”

One of his eyebrows went up. “A date?”

“Yes. To meet somewhere...sunny. What do you say? Care to have lunch with me in an outdoor café in say...Hawaii?”

“Hawaii!” he burst out. “When you make a date, you don’t go for the passé ones do you?”

Georgia knew from the warmth in her face that she was blushing. She hoped it was too dark for him to notice.

“What can I say? The beach seems awfully attractive to me right now.”

He snorted. “Seems attractive to me, too. Mind you, so does Grand Central Station during rush hour.”

Georgia smiled at his dry tone, but she didn’t have the strength to keep it up for longer than a couple seconds. “I know what you mean. Anywhere in the US would be better than this.”

He shifted, his arms moving her, cradling her, holding her. “Ever been to Hawaii?”

And she let him move, cradle and hold her. “No.”

“It’s beautiful there, especially the big island. Everyone ought to see it at least once.”

“I’ve always wanted to go but never managed to find the time or money to do it. If...whenwe get out of here, I’m going there no matter what. For at least a month.”

“How about I meet you two weeks into that trip. I’ll take you out for lunch at this little place I know. You’ll like it; it’s right on the beach outside Kona. They make the best burgers this side of heaven.”

“Oh, a burger...I’d love to eat one right now,” she said, her words slurring together. “With onions and tomatoes and lots of mayo.”

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