Between Love and Honor (Men of the Secret Service #3) - Tracy Solheim Page 0,72

for now.

Just as she was about to power off the phone, however, an incoming text came in, surprising her. Her handler wanted to meet. It was urgent, he insisted. Impossible, she nearly typed back before considering the possibilities. What did he mean by urgent? Had her parents’ safety already been compromised? Or had the traitor been located? Could there be a way of keeping Ben from confronting Alexi?

Ben would never agree to her leaving the White House to meet with her handler. The idea of sneaking out and betraying their still-fragile trust of one another made her stomach turn. But if she could get some information that would protect him—and her parents—it was a risk she would just have to take. A plan was already beginning to hatch in her head. She said a silent prayer that he would forgive her—especially if she could give him information on the traitor.

She named a location close to the White House. A public place where they could both exchange a few words without being noticed. And one she could get to quickly. Her handler agreed to meet her there in thirty minutes. Turning the phone off, she shoved it in one of the cabinets. It was too risky to keep with her. Dorothy might appear to be motherly, but she had the clairvoyance of a Highland witch.

“You’re back,” Josslyn cried when Quinn and Dorothy returned to the sitting area in the residence.

Agent Groesch looked up from the seating chart she was helping organize. The little terrier yapped a few welcome barks.

“Yes.” She sighed as she dropped onto the sofa next to Ben’s friend. “I found it was all too much for me. My anxiety about my parents was causing me to distract Ben.”

The dog trotted over from its bed and began to dance around Quinn’s feet.

“Fergus, leave her alone,” Josslyn commanded.

“It’s okay.” Quinn reached down and played with Fergus’s soft ears. “I need something to divert me.”

“Well you’ve come to the right place.” Agent Groesch indicated the place cards spread on the table in front of them. “Welcome to wedding central.”

“I heard there might be cake samples somewhere,” Dorothy said, sounding hopeful.

“In the kitchen.” Agent Groesch stood and led the other woman in the direction of the family kitchen. “I’ll get us each a piece.”

Josslyn patted her stomach. “None for me. If I sample any more cake, I won’t fit into my dress.”

“I was thinking about the flower arrangements,” Quinn began. “Would it be okay if I snapped a few pictures of the sample the florist created? And I had some more ideas to pass along to her regarding flowers that will accent the roses already in the garden outside.” She was careful not to oversell her plan. “Having something else to focus on will help calm me down a bit.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Josslyn agreed. “Just let me finish with this and we can head downstairs.”

“Take your time,” Quinn replied, trying to keep her foot from tapping in agitation as she felt an imaginary clock ticking.

“You should eat something,” Dorothy suggested when she emerged from the kitchen.

She waved a paper plate with a generous piece of cake in front of Quinn’s nose. Despite looking delicious, she doubted she could get anything past her thick throat.

“Actually, I was going to go down to the florist shop to take some photos first,” she said. “Then I thought we might check out the rose garden. Perhaps we can have some tea and cake there?”

“That sounds perfect. That way you don’t have to sit around waiting for Agent Groesch and me to finish,” Josslyn said. “Can you take her down to the florist shop, Dorothy?”

The older woman eyed Quinn sagely. “Of course.”

“I’ll meet you there shortly,” Josslyn added.

“How about if we meet you in the rose garden?” Quinn suggested. “We’ll bring Marilyn with us and that way I can explain my ideas to both of you at the same time.”

Josslyn’s face lit up. “You’re so sweet to do this when you’ve got so many other things on your mind.”

“It’s a distraction, remember?” Quinn replied with a forced smile.

She hated herself for taking advantage of Ben’s friends. But it was for his own protection. Surely, they would want him kept safe. With luck, none of the women in the room would pick up on the fact she was executing more of a diversion than a distraction.

The floral shop was quiet when she and Dorothy made their way down there. Too quiet. Her heart sank to the soles of her