But how? Her tech gear and the other equipment she needed were three miles away in a storage cabinet within the British Embassy. Not only that, but she needed to get word to her handler that her identity had been compromised. She sighed as she walked over to the railing of the balcony. The little terrier followed her, letting out a woeful whimper in an effort to get attention. She bent down and scratched him between the ears, trying in vain to come up with a solution.
“Perhaps I could borrow your phone,” she asked Josslyn. “That way I can start reaching out to my colleagues to see who might be available to shoot your wedding.”
Agent Groesch didn’t bother being discreet as she shook her head no. Marin snorted her own disapproval. Josslyn looked uncomfortable as she wiped her hands along her jeans.
“Personal cell phones are not allowed inside the White House,” she explained. “Claire can help us make those calls later.”
The secretary nodded.
“Why don’t we go downstairs and meet with the florist,” Josslyn suggested. “I can’t wait to see what Marilyn has dreamed up for the centerpieces.” She jumped up from the sofa and the other ladies rose like lemmings to follow her.
Quinn wanted to scream. The very idea of spending the rest of the morning debating the merits of tea roses, nosegay, and peonies was making her head pound. She was a woman of action. And right now, she needed to find a tiny piece of plastic containing very sensitive information.
Except she’d promised Ben she’d stay until he got back. And she hadn’t done a very good job of keeping her promises to him thus far. The last thing she wanted to do was let him down again. Pasting on a false smile, she followed the other women out of the Yellow Oval.
They strolled across the Center Hall, exiting through a pair of double pocket doors mounted beneath a stunning fan-light window. The thick carpeting on the stairs muffled their steps as they made their way down to the lower floors of the White House. Owing to the fact it was the weekend, the mansion was quiet, almost reverent, as if the walls were aware of the historical distinction they held as the centerpiece of a nation’s identity.
Quinn’s visit to the White House was so brief the other evening, she didn’t get the chance to glimpse any of the rooms or artwork. When they reached the first floor, she slowed her steps so she could sneak a peek into the Green Room before they continued down to the ground floor.
“I’m sure if you ask nicely, Ben will give you a tour later.” Agent Groesch indicated she should hurry to keep up with the other women.
There was nothing Quinn’s artistic eye would enjoy more than time to explore the famed paintings and architecture of the White House. Especially if she got to spend time with Ben while doing so. Although, given how she had responded to his kiss earlier, she suspected what both of them most wanted to explore was each other’s body. Parts of her were growing warm just thinking about the possibility. Always a fast study, he had clearly learned a few moves since the last time he’d had his hands and mouth on her naked body.
Really good moves.
But getting involved with him would only end in more heartache. Despite his brilliance, he was still just a computer nerd who spent his days behind a keyboard. The trustworthy boy-next-door would never understand or condone the decisions she’d made. In her line of work, she was the polar opposite of Ben, living a life of deception. She was darkness where he was light. As much as she wanted to rekindle the attraction between them, she had to keep her distance. She needed to keep her eye on the mission. Get the list and disappear.
Once they reached the ground floor, they took a sharp right and rounded the corner to the hallway between the curator’s office and the Secret Service director’s office. Adam and another man sporting a pair of fabulous dimples looked up from the baseball game they were watching on a laptop.
“And where are you beautiful ladies off to?” Dimples asked.
Marin smiled for the first time that morning before sashaying over to him. “We’re going to pick out flowers for the wedding. Want to join us?”
He looked like he’d likely agree to a root canal if Marin asked to give him one, but Adam spoke up before Dimples could answer her.
“Joss has carte blanche on floral arrangements. She has better taste for that than I do. But when it’s time for cake, we’re all in.”
Josslyn leaned down to give him a sexy kiss on the lips just as the other man wrapped his arms around Marin and pulled her into him. Agent Groesch made gagging noises behind Quinn.
“Really? Is there something in the water making you three boys behave like sex-crazed middle schoolers today?” The agent jabbed a thumb in Quinn’s direction. “It’s bad enough Ben got caught by Terrie unwrapping the little mermaid here. But Adam and Griffin, you should know enough to have some decorum within the Crown.”
Fabulous.
Four pairs of eyes homed in on Quinn. She willed her cheeks not to flush without much success. As if Ben’s friends didn’t trust her already, Agent Groesch had given them one more reason not to like her. There wasn’t much she could do except meet their glares head-on. Griffin’s dimples disappeared and his smoky eyes grew hard. She jerked her chin up in response.
“Do you think it’s wise to allow her free range of the House?” Griffin asked, not bothering to hide his disdain.
Agent Groesch scoffed. “I haven’t left her alone for a single minute since Ben left. I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job, Griffin. Which, I’d like to point out for the record, is not technically my job because she’s not even supposed to be in the residence.”
Quinn bristled. “I’m happy to leave at any time.”
“Stop it. All of you,” Josslyn demanded before linking an arm through Quinn’s. “Quinn is my guest. We promised Ben we’d keep her company. And that’s what we are going to do. First the centerpieces. Then the cake.”
Quinn allowed Josslyn to propel her down the hall and around the corner to the flower shop. The earthy aroma of plants had Quinn’s nose twitching while the airiness of the workshop helped to calm her nerves a bit. Sunlight beamed through several windows opening into a courtyard. The rooms were separated by walls of glass blocks helping to keep the shop bright and cheery.
An older woman who looked as though she should have retired long ago greeted them with a wide smile and twinkle in her eye. She hung a set of keys on a hook beside her desk.
“I must thank you, Miss Josslyn, for arranging for me to park in the courtyard. I stand most of the day and not having to make that long walk to the parking lot at the end of the day helps.” She winked at them. “I might have outdone myself with these arrangements, Miss Josslyn, if I do say so myself.”
“I have no doubt.” Josslyn smiled fondly at the woman. “Quinn, this wonderful lady is Marilyn Johnson, the fairy godmother of the White House floral shop. She spent years as the mastermind of all the floral arrangements within the mansion. It took a little coaxing, but I convinced her to come out of retirement for a few weeks to plan the arrangements for our wedding. If I couldn’t go to the Serengeti, then I wanted Marilyn to bring it to Washington.”
The florist beamed as she stepped away from her worktable to reveal a breathtaking centerpiece comprised of beige and gold colored flowers, tall shocks of river grass and roses seemingly dipped in bronze. A chorus of oohs and ahhs echoed throughout the workshop.