Page 42 of Operation Heartbeat

They rolled forward on the tail of the black Porsche. Sophie’s fingers curled into the edge of the seat, and she sat stiff with nerves.

“Con, he saw us. He knows we’re following him.”

“I know.”

Seeing her affected this way made him tense too. Reaching over, he covered her hand with his.

Her gaze shot to his. He saw her throat move in a delicate gulp.

She wasn’t cut out for this work. Christ, whose idea was it to force a university professor like her into a role like this? She should be tucked up in her quiet home back in Princeton readingher books, not following an international businessman out of a party.

Gently, he pried her fingers out of the seat. With a soft gasp, she twisted her palm up and threaded her fingers with his.

His heart gave a hard pinch at the realization that she was seeking comfort from him.

Shegainedcomfort from his touch.

He stroked his thumb across the back of hers and heard the quiet release of air she’d held trapped in her lungs.

They wove through a mosaic of streets filled with old-world charm meshed with modern extravagance. The fading evening light cast shadows along cobblestones and the last rays of daylight glinted on the glass-sided buildings of new architecture.

Down one narrow alley, several vendors were packing up their wares for the day, called home to prayer. One cart was stacked high with colorful textiles and another held crates of roasted chestnuts.

Sophie’s gaze swung from the view through the side window to the taillights of the Porsche. He suspected she wanted to ask a million questions—that was how her scholarly mind worked—but she held her tongue, most likely unnerved by the driver.

Con knew the driver personally. He was a plant in this city, and worked closely with the American embassy. He was confident that the man was trustworthy.

Up ahead, the spire of a mosque caught the magic of twilight, even as the deepening shadows spoke of darker things that would take place in the city.

Sophie’s grip tightened on his, and he glanced down at their twined hands, too late realizing that Charlie team could see everything through his glasses.

He didn’t care. She was under his protection, and he was offering her a safe haven. He caught a deep chuckle through his earpiece but ignored it.

As the car made several turns, their driver hung back at a distance to make it look like he was just going the same direction. He paused to allow a group of pedestrians headed to a night club across the street to cross. Music from another car shook the windows.

The Porsche headed from one nice section of the city where the party had taken place to another. The opulence in this area wasn’t understated at all. The enormous home that Deniz turned toward was befitting the position of the shipping merchant he was.

They watched one of five garage doors open, and Deniz drive inside. Their driver knew what to do—he turned down another street.

Sophie let out a shaky breath. The ragged sound pulled at Con’s heartstrings.

“Where to, Con?” the driver asked.

“The hotel.” He wanted to get Sophie back to her comfort zone quickly. She shouldn’t be placed into a high-stress role like this.

As soon as they entered their hotel room, Sophie whirled toward him, her face alive with excitement.

“We did it, didn’t we? We found out where that businessman lives!”

God, she was stunning. And smart, and filled with life.

Whatever she saw on his face made her step closer.

He leaned down. “Yes, Professor. We did it.”

Her eyes hooded as she sidled even closer. “Maybe we can find something in the mini bar to celebrate with.”

He reached for her, pressing his fingertips into her lower back. “Weshouldcelebrate.”

---