“Sure,” Caitlin replied, sitting on a bar stool in front of the center island. “I’m probably going to stop working on that cipher for the day.”
“Good idea,” Travis said. “I want you to relax, sunshine.”
“I just want the mob off our backs, you know?” Caitlin’s voice was rueful and if Travis could only wrap her up and tell her he’d take care of everything, he would. His wife always had an independent streak—that much of her personality had not changed. That didn’t mean he had not considered contingency plans. He wasn’t fibbing when he said he’d already made inquiries about a loan from the bank.
“I know, babe,” Travis whispered.
“Are you going into the office tomorrow?”
Travis frowned. “No. I’m working from home.”
“I can probably go in with you,” Caitlin offered. “They need you there, Travis. Emily traipsing all across Washington DC is just a waste of time.”
“We’ll see. Maybe Tuesday?”
Caitlin shrugged and took a sip of her wine.
“Here. Have some of this salami, it’ll go well with what you’re drinking,” Travis laid out a board with several selections ofcharcuterie—artisan cured meats. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat beside her.
“My parents are back in town,” Travis said. Caitlin frozebeside him. “I’m not sure how long I can hide you from them.” For some reason, this made him smile. “They’re going on vacation again in a few weeks, somewhere in the Caribbean. You’ve always liked the beach. I think I can take a few weeks off from the office.”
“I liked the beach, huh?” Her eyes lit up.
“Yes. We made frequent trips to the Bahamas and St. Martin,” Travis said. “We had been saving up for a trip to Fiji . . .” Suddenly, his throat constricted. He took a gulp of his wine. “So, how about it?”
“Can’t say I don’t want to until—” Caitlin suddenly looked green. “I probably shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got scars on the right side of my body, Travis.”
Fuck. Was he being insensitive? He knew enough about women that insecurities, especially when they were of a physical nature, simply couldn’t be brushed aside.
“Caitlin,” he spoke in a reassuring gentle manner. “I don’t care about the scars, babe. But we won’t go if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”
“The beach sounds awfully fun,” she sighed. “I don’t remember . . .”
Her voice trailed off and then she muttered, “Damn.” Caitlin jumped off the bar stool and walked briskly toward the stairs. “Wait here,” she threw over her shoulder and disappeared up to the second floor.
Travis resisted the urge to follow her upstairs and forced himself to check on the lasagna instead. It could use a few more minutes. He glanced impatiently at the stairs. Fortunately, it didn’t take Caitlin long and she bounded down the steps with a rectangular black box.
“Cayman Islands,” Caitlin said. “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the accounts.” She opened the anti-static box and in its depths were an assortment of flash drives. Caitlin rifled through the storage sticks, until she selected one and heldit up.
“Are you telling me that a hundred million dollars is stored in that little thing?” Travis eyed the piece she held up before glancing at the rest of the box. “What’s in there, another billion?”
Caitlin gave a throaty laugh that he felt all the way to his dick.
“Probably,” she said carelessly. “But what’s in here is useless without what’s in here.” She pointed to her head.
“It’s such a pretty head too,” Travis murmured. “I can tell you’re eager to hack into it, so why don’t you head back to the TV room, and I’ll bring the lasagna when it’s ready.” Caitlin grinned and gave him a resounding smack on his lips.Damn. If she keeps up her playfulness, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.She practically skipped into the next room.
It just occurred to Travis how blasé he was regarding the money. Sure he was thrilled that Caitlin could well be on her way to returning the hundred mil to the Russian mob, and they could finally start a normal life together. But at that moment, when she held up the flash drive, all he noticed was how lively her hazel eyes had become. The sparkle in them made his breath hitch. Travis realized without a doubt that his happiness hinged on hers.
Two hours later,the dirty plates sat on the coffee table, the TV was stuck on a B-movie, and Caitlin was sitting on the couch, leaning against Travis. He had his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, so as not to crowd her, but every now and then he would play with the strands of her hair and lean in to press a kiss on the side of her head.
His gaze drifted to the weird code on her screen that seemed to be an altogether different language. Travis had no problem learning new computer applications and using them,but what Caitlin was messing with was on an altogether different level. This was no user-friendly interface; this was what ran behind it.
“Gotcha,” Caitlin whispered. She squirmed on the couch as if to get a better perspective.
