Page 20 of Hidden Attraction

Dropping the pen he was toying with, Thorne sat back. “And that was a damn tragedy.”

The dismissive way he stated the facts made Chase tense even more.

“Are there any people on base who were here at the time of the crash? Anyone who might remember something useful?”

“Just me. Me and my righthand man. Security Detail Coordinator, Lieutenant Rezvan.”

“We’d like to speak with him.”

The commander ducked his head in a nod. “He’s off base for the day on an errand. I’ll arrange for you to meet here as soon as possible.”

Chase didn’t wait to hear more from the commander—he pushed to his feet, and Alyssa shot up too. Finally she and Chase had something in common—the urge to get out of here.

They rode in silence back to the safehouse. When they arrived, it was just as sparse as she remembered when she arrived in an exhausted delirium.

One room. One narrow bed. And a whole lot of worry.

She stared at the torture contraption Chase had slept on the previous night. Suddenly, all of her energy fled. He moved through the few rooms like he had upon their first arrival when he did a sweep of the place for bugs.

“We never got that coffee,” she said.

“Damn.” He turned toward her. “We could both use more than coffee. We haven’t eaten in hours. How about we walk to one of the local bistros? Someone is coming for the car soon anyway.”

She shot a look past him to the couch, then to the lone bed. Not being stuck in the small house with a man who didn’t like her very much sounded like the best idea she’d heard in two days.

She moved to the door and reached for the door handle.

He put a hand on her arm. “Let me take the lead.”

Up close, she saw his eyes weren’t just brown but speckled with a dark coffee color and shards of flint. She searched his eyes for a solemn heartbeat and finally nodded.

As he stepped forward to open the door, his fingers met hers—just a glancing touch but enough to send a flicker of heat up her arm.

Neither of them said it, but the truth hung heavy between them.

This mission could change everything—and maybe not only the world they were trying to change.

FIVE

Chase pushed open the faded wood door of the corner bistro and held it for Alyssa, scanning the dim interior automatically. The place was nothing fancy—plastic chairs, mismatched tablecloths, a handful of patrons hunched over steaming plates—but it was real.

The kind of place where people talked without looking over their shoulders. The kind of place you could disappear into if you played the part right.

“Looks like we beat the dinner rush,” he murmured as she passed him, her head scarf fluttering slightly from the breeze outside.

Alyssa smiled, but he didn’t know her well enough to know if it was genuine or just the role she was playing. “Or they’re all home before curfew.”

Chase’s brow lifted. “I always forget about the curfew.”

“They’ve lightened it since I was here last. We won’t run into any problems.” She glanced around the room with a neutral face that didn’t match the sharpness in her eyes. “But it depends on the week. The mood. The politics.”

He chose a table near the window where they could keep eyes on the street and still blend in while keeping his back to the wall. He knew better than to trust anyone, even in a place like this.

“You ever eat here before?” He picked up a stained menu.

“No. I did what I was brought here to do, then I got out.”

He, of all people, understood that. “Not a lot of tourists in this area, and people like us stick out too much not to be memorable.”

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