Reach For the Spy by Diane Henders Page B

long rays of the evening sun, realizing he was watching me
quietly. “Okay, that sounds good,” I agreed.
    His crooked smile came
back as he guided me to a four-wheel-drive pickup truck and opened
the door for me.
    We arrived at the hall
without incident, and I duly learned to two-step amid much laughter
and teasing from the friendly group. I even allowed myself a single
beer early in the evening. I was pretty sure I’d burn it off before
it was time to drive home.
    The hours flew by while
we laughed and danced to the music of the talented local band.
Finally, the lights came up and the band began to pack away their
instruments.
    Tom chuckled. “I guess
we’ve closed it down. Come on, I’ll take you back to your car.”
    Our conversation flowed
easily on the short drive. Back in the deserted parking lot at the
Greenhorn, I turned to him in the dimness. “Tom, thank you. I had
so much fun.”
    And it was true. I
couldn’t remember the last time I’d relaxed and enjoyed an evening
on the town. No pressure, no agenda, no spying, no threat of
torture or death.
    I sighed inwardly at
the realization that those threats were likely to be part of my
life for the foreseeable future, but put the thought away and
smiled at him. “More fun than I’ve had in a long time.”
    “What’s wrong?” he
asked quietly. “You looked so sad for a second there,” he explained
when I raised a puzzled eyebrow.
    “Oh.” I waved a
dismissive hand. “Nothing. I really had a great time. Thanks
again.”
    I was turning to get
out of the truck when he took my hand in his callused one. “I had
more fun tonight than I’ve had in a long time, too,” he said. “I
couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be with the most beautiful
woman there. All the guys envied me.”
    And he leaned over and
kissed me.
    His lips were gentle
and unhurried. As he pulled back a few inches to look into my eyes,
I sat in stunned confusion. This was more than I’d bargained
for.
    His mouth curved in
that crooked smile, and he leaned in and kissed me again, stroking
his fingers through my hair. This time the kiss lingered, and I
found my hands sliding over his corded shoulders. His denim shirt
was soft over the hard, lean muscle, and I felt a shiver of heat
start low.
    He pulled me closer and
warning bells went off in my brain as my body responded
hungrily.
    This was a bad idea.
Sooner or later, I was going to end up dead. Probably sooner. And
he could be in danger, too, if he was anywhere close to me.
    Shit, shit, shit! This
was such a bad idea!
    Breathless, I pulled
away and he let me go, watching me in the soft light from the
dashboard.
    “Tom,” I began. I
sighed. Just end it. “I had fun tonight, and I like you. But I
don’t think this is a good idea. Good night.”
    I got out of his truck
and headed for my car before I could change my mind.

Chapter 10
    The next day I was
finishing my lunch when the unmistakeable rumble of a Harley split
the quiet of the country.
    I sprang up from the
table and dashed as soundlessly as possible for the front door,
mindful of the bugs. At the front door, I slowed to a more casual
pace as I stepped out onto my front porch and into camera
surveillance.
    The bike pulled to a
stop in front of the house, and I took a challenging stance to
confront the burly tattooed biker grinning at me. One fist on my
hip, I raised my hand as if to shade my eyes. My arm should block
the camera’s view of my lips from that angle.
    I spoke softly but
clearly. “Don’t look too friendly. I have a situation.”
    His ugly face hardened
as his gaze darted around, checking out the house and surrounding
area.
    I pointed forcefully
down the lane for the benefit of the cameras. “Turn your bike
around and drive halfway down the lane. Wait for me there. I’ll be
a few minutes.”
    I blessed his keen mind
and private investigator’s instincts as he turned the bike around
without comment and rode away. I turned on my heel and marched back
into the