Page 11 of Protecting You
He smiled. “Somewhere safe, darling.” Getting back into character. “Somewhere nobody will find you until we can figure out who would do this.”
“Why, though? They’ve already been here and gotten what they wanted. Can’t I just stay?” She returned to her bedroom and dropped the charger cord into her oversized purse. Then faced him, waiting for him to explain himself.
“What if they didn’t get what they wanted?” He gave her laptop a pointed look. “What if what they really want is on that? Or in your head?”
“But why would?—?”
“I don’t know. What Idoknow is that you’re in danger. What kind of fiancé would I be if I left you here alone?”
She pressed her lips closed, most likely barely keeping her argument inside. “Fine.” She zipped up her suitcase and shouldered her bag.
He grabbed the luggage, then urged her into the hallway, where they stopped so she could lock the door. Not that the flimsy deadbolt would keep anyone out who wanted in.
Now what?
He’d promised to take her somewhere safe. But where? His apartment was secure, but if they went there, then Ghazi’s people, who were no doubt still watching, would discover who he really was.
The fictional Caleb Thompson’s address was the size of a rented mailbox at a UPS store. Literally.
One step at a time.
Right now, he needed to get them away from here. And then away from whoever had tailed them without letting on what he was doing. Because he was playing the part of a salesman, not a CIA agent, and the last thing he wanted was for Ghazi to figure out that anyone was on to him.
And Callan had to do it all with a beautiful blonde he’d claimed was his fiancée—while she questioned his every move.
Were they having fun yet?
CHAPTERTHREE
Alyssa trembled as if they’d stepped into an Alaska winter, not a mild Boston spring night.
Her teeth chattered.
She’d kept it together, so far. She’d kept it together while listening to the scuffle a floor below, though she was mortified that she’d run away. She, the woman who’d wanted nothing more than to be a spy like her father and her cousin Michael, had hidden like a mouse.
Shame heated her face.
But what had her choices been? No weapon, no training, no…clue. Callan had told her to hide, so she'd hidden.
Stupid, obedient coward.
Or maybe that made her wise.
She’d kept it together as she’d packed, though she would surely have forgotten something important if not for Callan’s gentle reminders.
She’d kept it together while they stood in her building’s foyer, her watching out the window for enemies, him tapping on his phone.
Now, they walked along the sidewalk, exposed, and she still kept it together. As far as he could tell, anyway.
“Can you pull your suitcase?”
“What?” Then Callan’s words registered. “Yeah, okay.” She plopped her purse on top and then took the handle.
“Thanks.” He kept his voice low. “I want to be ready, just in case.”
She scanned their surroundings, certain that new enemies were going to pop out from an alley or drive up in a dark van.
They crossed Comm Ave, a wide, divided road. The heavy traffic made it impossible to talk.
