“I want you, Quinn,” he confessed when he came up for air. “Even though I don’t fucking know you.”
“You do know me, Ben,” she whispered. “You’re the only one who’s ever known me.”
“No!” He pulled her up so they were face-to-face, their noses nearly touching. “I don’t know you. Not the real you. I want the truth. All of it. I want to know you inside and out.”
Bewilderment lurked in those big green eyes of hers. And sadness. His gut clenched at the realization. She drew in several ragged breaths before her eyes came back into focus and that elegant mask she wore shuttered her face.
“Ben,” she began before placing her hands on his chest to push him away.
He gritted his teeth when her fingers grazed his cut.
“Crap. What am I doing?” She jerked out of his embrace. “We can’t do this. For many reasons. Not the least of which is you’ll get hurt.”
She dropped her feet to the floor and began frantically searching around for her clothing.
“Damn it, Quinn, stop.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. What the hell had just happened? “It doesn’t hurt.”
Her lips formed a resolute line. “Yes, but the truth will.”
*
Ben disappeared upstairs without a word. Quinn had to admire his resolve. It had taken her several minutes before she was composed enough to get her limbs to move. Grabbing her clothing—or rather Josslyn’s clothing—she hurried into the guest room. Once inside, she shut and locked the door before propping her back against it. She drew in a huge lungful of air hoping it would bring her some clarity.
“You can do this,” she mumbled to herself. “You just can’t do that.”
Not that there hadn’t been times in her career where she had to let a man kiss her to gain the intel she needed. But those occasions usually involved administering knock-out drugs before things went too far. And every time she’d had no trouble tuning out her emotions. She’d been doing a job. Nothing more.
Clearly, she couldn’t control either her emotions or her libido when it came to Ben Segar. Moments before, she’d practically admitted her heart was still his for the taking. He held all the power and he didn’t even know it. She needed to get away before she did something foolish. Like tell him the truth. He wouldn’t want her heart once he knew all the things she’d done.
It was a good thing she’d finally figured out where the micro card was. Her body relaxed at the knowledge and she slid to the floor. It had to be here in the lighthouse. She was sure he came here yesterday afternoon after she’d seen him at the marina in Watertown. He must have stashed the tuxedo somewhere here. It was the only scenario that made sense. Now all she had to do was find it, grab it, and disappear out of Ben’s life. For good this time.
The very idea made her limbs painfully heavily.
“It’s for the best,” she rationalized trying in vain to ease the disappointment.
Digging deep for the stoicism that made her such a successful operative, she got to her feet and opened her suitcase. From the looks of it, the contents hadn’t been disturbed. Relieved, she lifted out her clothes and pressed her thumb to a latch hidden on the side revealing a false bottom. Inside was an assortment of the tools of her trade—a burner phone, a Stingray listening device, a computer tablet, knock-out drops, and a nine-millimeter handgun. She pulled out the phone and powered it up. It had been twenty-four hours since she last checked in with her handler. Agency protocol stated she send a coded message daily. While she wouldn’t be able to let him know she had located the list, at least he’d know she was still alive.
Once the phone was activated, she punched in the code that would allow her access to the secure mailboxes. The phone buzzed with an automated message.
“Access denied.”
Quinn carefully reentered the code and waited.
“Access denied.”
She got to her feet in an effort to shake off the wave of uneasiness washing over her. The third time she entered the code, the site kicked her out. The sound of the dial tone in her ear made her hand twitch slightly. The phone then powered off, rendering it useless.
“That’s odd,” she said to the empty room.
She grabbed the tablet and powered it up, then she did the same with the secure hotspot. Logging onto her photography website, she went straight to the admin page. Her handler often left coded messages in a mailbox only the two of them could access from the website. There were no new messages. In fact, there were no messages at all. It looked like the entire page had been deleted.
“Maybe there’s been an internet glitch somewhere.” She stoically ignored the lick of panic that ran down her spine.
Skimming the screen, she tapped in the address for a London insurance agency. She clicked on the contact tab and typed in her name to the email dashboard. The insurance agency served as a front for her real place of employment. It was here she could more easily communicate with other members of the agency. An error message popped up stating the account no longer existed.
Ominous thunder rumbled outside as the dread she was trying to hold at bay clawed at her belly. She’d been set adrift. Either because they thought she was compromised or dead. One was true, but happily, the other wasn’t. How the agency had come to that conclusion so quickly was a mystery. She had one last option. A phone number she’d memorized. It was a direct line to her handler, but that always came with the risk of someone listening in. She was reluctant to utilize that option right now. Not until she had the card in her possession and could triumphantly hand it off to him. Besides, flying solo was her specialty. She didn’t require the safety net of the agency to accomplish this mission. Now that she’d narrowed the search area, locating the micro card would be easy.
Except finding it meant venturing out of the room and exploring the rest of the lighthouse Ben had so beautifully restored. Given the security measures present, she assumed he did more than just think here. Clearly, there was more to the computer analyst than met the eye. But if this place was just for work, why then had he renovated it to be so elegant and pleasant? So very much like the home they’d envisioned sharing together? She pressed her fingers to her temple. It was ironic how earlier she believed the longing she felt interacting with Ben’s family and friends was painful. Being back in this place brought her face-to-face with the life she’d dreamed of but could never have. And, with it, an ache so intense it nearly immobilized her.
She had to make these feelings stop. The only way to do that was to pull up her knickers and begin her search. With a resigned sigh, she set out on her task.
*
Ben stared blankly at the computer screen. He’d spent the past hour sifting through want-ads on the dark web, searching for anyone looking for a skilled coder who could hack into VOYEUR. Ronoff would need someone who could break through US Intelligence encryption. Most of those guys played for the wrong team, but if the money was right, an American would sell out his country in a heartbeat. So far, he hadn’t found an ad with that particular description or the right price tag. He hoped that meant Ronoff didn’t know what he had on the card. Because the alternative was that he already had someone with the math chops to break the code. In anticipation, he touched base with the operatives who monitored the cryptocurrency markets, but no one had heard anything about a run yet.