Between Love and Honor (Men of the Secret Service #3) - Tracy Solheim Page 0,45

office at the end of the bay. Ben downed the bottle of water the crew had given each of them on arrival. Just as he was reaching for the last scone, he hesitated, then offered it to her. She shook her head.

“I have a right to know where you’re taking me.”

Her words were met with a sinister sounding chuckle as he slid off the exam table and thrust the Glock into a holster that had magically appeared from one of the crew members.

“You just killed two men, Brit. I wouldn’t push your case about your rights at this moment.”

She glanced back at the office to see whether the doctor had overheard him. Thankfully, the man was on the phone.

“I killed both of them to save your arse,” she whispered harshly.

He took a menacing step forward. “Yeah. About that. Where’d you learn to shoot with such skill?”

This was the problem with dealing with a man of superior intellect. Ben connected the dots a lot quicker than others. Most people were probably intimidated by his brain power. But she found it sexy.

Except for right now.

She’d had no choice but to fire that shot back at the row house. Whatever it took to keep Ben safe, she would do. But in doing so, she’d revealed too much of herself.

What would he say if she blurted out that she’d honed her skills at Fort Monctron in Portsmouth? Or the Joint Services Intelligence school in Scotland? Would he find her skill set as sexy as she found his? Hardly. He was a man after all. One who put a great deal of stock in doing the right thing. Quinn had spent her adult life blurring the lines between right and wrong more often than not.

“I was on the marksmanship team at university,” she recited the well-rehearsed fib.

She held his gaze for several long heartbeats, daring him to contradict her. His left eyebrow slowly made its way up to his hairline in question, but, thankfully, he didn’t offer up a response. Still, she doubted he believed her.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Next question. Why is Ronoff trying to kill me?”

This part of the conversation was a lot trickier to navigate. Quinn was quickly beginning to realize there was more to mild-mannered Ben Segar than he let on. He would be safer knowing the truth. Better able to protect himself from Ronoff. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to tell him. To share her burden with him.

But she couldn’t.

Trust no one, her handler had commanded.

Even if she hadn’t been warned against confiding in anyone, it had been her mantra for too long now to ignore. Not that she believed Ben, a computer analyst with friends in high places, was the traitor. But there was too much at risk to take on a sidekick right now. Not even a sexy one who made her long for a life she’d given up. Until she had what she came for, she’d just have to be more diligent in protecting him.

She didn’t like what she had to do any more than he was going to like it, but she clenched her jaw firmly shut and gave her shoulders a shrug.

“That’s what I thought.” He took another step closer so that their bodies were nearly touching.

Idiot that she was, Quinn welcomed the shiver of excitement his nearness always stirred up within her. His fingers glided against her cheek until he was gently caressing her jaw in his palm.

“One way or another, Quinn Darby,” he whispered. “I’m going to unlock your secrets. All of them.”

Her eyelids were drifting shut in anticipation of his kiss, when his hand fell from her face. Disappointment flared and that made her angry. Angry at Ben for what he could do to her. But mostly angry at herself for allowing it.

“Let’s go find the mess.” He made his way to the door. “Suddenly, I’m starving.”

Chapter Ten

Ben had to hand it to her, despite the British refinement and the smoking hot body, Quinn adapted quickly to every situation without complaint. She’d calmly climbed over the side of the cutter like she’d done it a thousand times before, but not without thanking the captain and the crew for their hospitality first.

They were taken by dinghy to a private dock a mile south of Watertown. Waiting there for them was Rich’s fishing boat. His brother-in-law had followed Ben’s instructions to the letter. Rich had retrieved Quinn’s luggage from the B and B and stowed them on board along with