Page 23 of Four Cards Exposed

“Be careful, James.”

Lorraine finished her coffee and threw it in the trash, then called for her dog.

“Let’s go, Daisy!”

James watched her walk away. If he knew Lorraine at all, she’d be on the phone with the office in a matter of minutes. By tonight, she’d know more about the Eleanore than the people who’d built it.

James strolled along the park, cooling down. His hair curled, sticking to the sides of his head. He wanted nothing better than to go back to the neat, almost military cut he’d favored since becoming a federal agent, but knew he had to hold off. He couldn’t afford to do anything so out of character.

Eventually, he approached the small, murky pond in the middle of the park. He didn’t need to look at his watch to know it was closing in on ten a.m.

Susan was already there, feeding small chunks of bread to a group of brown, sorry-looking ducks.

“You know, you’re not allowed to feed them,” James said, coming up to her.

With her face scrubbed clean, today she looked younger, more like herself—so pretty it hurt to look at her. Her hand reached unconsciously to her hair as if to tighten her ponytail, then fell back as she realized her hair was loose. She tucked a few strands behind her ears instead.

Susan arched an eyebrow and laughed. “You weren’t following rules last night, either…” Her hand moved up and grazed the bandage over his eye. “Are you okay?”

Her touch felt so right, James had to stop himself from leaning in close to her.

“I’m fine,” he said, straightening to his full height. He took a step back when he realized that forced her to crane her neck up to look at him.

“You saw something when you left the med bay last night, didn’t you?”

James nodded. “There was another boat, a smaller boat. Just around the time when Mendoza and Moore disappeared. I think that’s how they’re transferring the drugs.”

“It explains why Guerrero and Mendoza were on the ship, yes … they didn’t seem that interested in your fight. You got hit hard. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You’ll tell me if you need to get out, right?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stop asking me that,” she muttered.

* * *

Susan

James raised a corner of his T-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing abs that were a work of art.

Susan’s mouth felt dry. She’d seen him without a T-shirt the night before, during the fight, seen the sleek, hard muscles he’d been hiding under his dress shirts. But somehow this peek right now, just a hint of slim hips framed by that V-shaped muscular groove, felt altogether more intimate and indecent.

She forced herself to look away and deliberately broke off another piece of bread, almost hitting a duckling on the head with it.

Oops.

James released his hold on his T-shirt, and suddenly she could breathe again.

“We shouldn’t stay here long.”

“I’m not a prisoner. I’m allowed to go anywhere I want to.”

“I don’t think Guerrero appreciated me getting close to you last night.”

He couldn’t quite roll his r’s with the ease that she could, but his Spanish accent wasn’t altogether bad. He must have taken some classes in school. There were so many things she didn’t know about him.

“I don’t think he means me any harm, Jam—Jay. I need to get used to calling you Jay. I think he truly wants to help Milena.”

“I’m not going to keep my distance from you. Jay would be interested in you—hell, very interested—and I…” He licked his strong, thick lips. “I need to be close to you.”