Page 74 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

He kept up with her, but once out of sight of the door, stopped and rested the rifle and the extra flashlight against the wall.

“You turned off the power?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Georgia turned around and glared at him. “Yes.”

He frowned and tilted his head. “Why didn’t they just turn it back on?”

“They couldn’t,” Georgia answered, exhaustion making her dizzy. “I stole all the fuses.”

Peter stared at her for a moment before his face dissolved into a smile. “Perfect. Where’d you stash them?”

Georgia’s fatigue dissipated in the face of his obvious approval. “I left them under the stairs where I hid when that guy came down to check on the fuse box. I was about to make a run for the wine cellar when you came down the stairs.”

“Ah. I ruined your plans then?”

“Sort of. I was more or less making up the plan as I went along. I didn’t have time to do anything else.”

He nodded. “I understand. Some of the best spies in the game operate that way.”

He said it in a complimentary tone, but it only exhausted her more.

“I’m not sure I could operate that way,” she said looking at the rock still firmly in her grasp. She dropped it in the dirt. “I’d much rather have a normal routine where people aren’t running around trying to kill me.”

He looked at her quizzically. “You mean, like the husband home at six, kids in school, carpool to the scout meeting kind of life?”

“Yes.” Georgia managed a smile. There was nothing wrong with wanting normal.

“You’d never want to do this.” He waved his hand around in the air.

She snorted. “No.” A chill swept over her, and she rubbed her arms. “I’m frightened, tired, dirty, and hungry. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do this more than once, and I’m sure most people wouldn’t do it at all if they knew what was involved.”

He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back to warm her. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that.”

Georgia glanced up, surprised. “You are?”

“Yeah. Sometimes people get a taste of the adrenaline and don’t want to give it up. The excitement can be kind of...addicting.”

The expression on his face was determined and lonely.

“Is that why you do it, because you’re addicted?”

“Not anymore.” He pulled her over to sit on the floor, in his lap once more. Peter set his handgun on the floor next to them then wrapped his arms firmly around her. “I was recruited into the field, on a photo assignment, after I left the military.” He smiled grimly. “I thought then that helping the CIA was a way to continue to serve my country.” He laughed, but it was a mournful sound.

“That first assignment, three operatives were killed in a car bombing in Jerusalem, including a woman I was asked to provide a cover story for. Had I arrived five minutes earlier, I would have been killed, too. After that, I was in it for revenge, then it was for the thrill, the adrenaline kick. But that ran dry after a while. For a long time now, I’ve done what was asked of me because I’m good at it.” He looked down at her with an intense expression on his face. “I don’t want to send a less experienced man in to do my job, because a less experienced man would end up dead, or get somebody else killed. Can you understand that?”

“I do understand.” She cupped his cheek. “I’ve seen you in action, I know how good you are, but how long can you keep doing this before there’s nothing left? How long can you keep sacrificing yourself? You can’t make yourself responsible for everyone.” She rubbed her thumb over his bottom lip, thinking his mouth was made for kissing. “It’s eating away at you, Peter. The loneliness, the constant stress.”

He smiled and squeezed her. “I’m not alone right now.”

“No, you’re not.”

His eyes held her gaze while his tongue slid out from between his lips to curl around her thumb, drawing it into his mouth where he sucked on it lightly.

Georgia gasped, and as if her open mouth cued him, he swooped down and kissed her.

At his touch she fell head-first into a pool of passion, and she didn’t care. His lips and tongue drew her deeper and deeper, till she didn’t know which way was up. His hands pressed her against the wall of his chest. She could feel the hardness of an erection beneath her bottom and wiggled a little.

Peter groaned and the pressure on her mouth became almost bruising. He shuddered and shifted her off onto her knees next to him.

---