Page 30 of Don't Look Back

All of the above?

No. It was utter disbelief.

It wasn’t possible that she’d recognized that laugh. Not here.

Tuned in now to the conversations behind her, she found his voice easy to identify. “This is more research trip than vacation. I plan to set part of my next book in Malta.”

Her belly fluttered, and the mix of emotions hit her again, but with sharper peaks and valleys.

Not only was Lieutenant Commander Randall Fallon in Valletta, but he was also using the cover story they’d devised last December. She’d bet anything he’d pitched his voice so she would hear. He was feeding her cues.

But how? Why?

She could guess the answer: Freya was worried. She’d said as much. But could she really pull the kind of strings required to send a Navy SEAL to Malta?

Not if the SEAL in question didn’t push for it. Which meant Rand had traveled nearly five thousand milesfor her.

She slowly turned as she sipped her wine, thankful that this time, she’d had the warning of his voice. No spewing. Still, when she saw him, she couldn’t help but catch her breath. She coughed, but kept her drink.

Randall Fallon in his wealthy author-on-vacation attire was a sight to behold.

Not that he hadn’t been hot in his combat uniform—or whatever the camouflage thing he’d been wearing Tuesday was called. It was just a different kind of attractive. She was reminded of their first meeting, when he’d walked into the room and his handsome face and confident manner had practically melted her ovaries.

The man was a presence.

If she wasn’t careful, he might make her forget why she was here.

Or even whyhewas here.

Was she really in danger?

She made a soft squeal of surprise to draw his attention. She was barely even acting, her brain still reeling from his unexpected appearance.

His gaze met hers. His mouth curved into a devastatingly perfect smile. “Dr. Hanson, I was just on my way to say hello. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted you across the room.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I imagine I’m the more surprised of the two of us.” She flashed her teeth and narrowed her gaze, even as her heart pounded. This man made her want things it was safer to avoid.

The man he was chatting with—a collector from Italy, if she remembered correctly—smiled broadly and said, “I’ll leave you to your reunion.”

With him gone, there were just a few feet of empty space between her and Rand. “You’re researching your next book?” She spoke loud enough for others to overhear.

“I’m behind on my proposal and figured a tax-deductible trip might get the creative juices flowing.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been meaning to contact you to get an appraisal for a painting my sister inherited from her husband’s family.”

Her nerve endings prickled with the touch of his lips on the back of her hand. Usually, Kira would give all the disclaimers about the limits of her expertise, but this was a cover story like his fake author persona. It didn’t matter. “We can discuss that when we’re both back in DC.”

His smile deepened, bringing out the wrinkles next to his eyes. “It’s a date, then.”

Her belly fluttered. This was all an act. He couldn’t hold her to a fake date and nonexistent artwork appraisal, yet she felt certain that was exactly what he intended to do.

She decided to make him squirm by asking a question he might not have an easy answer for. “If you’re in Malta for research, what brings you to this gallery, tonight of all nights?”

“You”—he paused, letting the word stand alone, then added—“hooked me on collecting when you helped me last fall. Although I’m no longer interested in antiquities. I figured since I’m here for research, I should buy a souvenir I can write off as a business expense.”

“Your writing must be going really well if you can afford original works as souvenirs, but I have a hard time believing Uncle Sam would accept such a purchase as a business expense.”

“So I’ll convince my publisher to put whatever I get on the cover. There. Business expense.”

She laughed. “Well then, I think this glass fire sculpture would sell a lot of books.” She pointed to the work she’d been studying moments ago.

---