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“Spar?”
“At the gym. Keeps me fit.”
She couldn’t argue with the results—there didn’t seem to be a speck of excess flesh on the man—but still…”That’s not relaxing. Unless you soak in a hot tub afterwards?” she added hopefully.
“Now hot tubs, those are stressful. I tried one once. Made me want to jump out of my skin. I got a rash.” He finished rinsing the frying pan and propped it on the drying rack. “What do you do to relax? If you say anything involving yoga, meditation, aromatherapy, or smudging I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” She indeed did love all of those things. She also took antianxiety medication, but he definitely didn’t need to know about that.
“I’ll know we have nothing in common.”
Her heart gave an odd little tweak. She didn’t know why, since she agreed with that statement. What could a model and an FBI agent possibly have in common?
“Well, as a matter of fact, my favorite form of relaxation is knitting.”
He looked at her blankly. “Knitting? I haven’t seen you knit.”
“I’m taking a break due to tendonitis. But my yarn bag is in there, calling out to me.” She waved in the direction of her room. “You can take your knitting anywhere, except on airplanes. You can easily pick it up and set it down again when they’re ready for you on a shoot. My specialty is fingerless gloves. I’ve knitted gloves for every makeup artist, photographer, photographer’s assistant, hair stylist and agent that was ever nice to me. I’ve knitted gloves for concierges who were especially good at their jobs, drivers who were extra professional, other models. It’s a little compulsive, come to think of it.” She tapped her finger on her lips, just realizing how odd it must sound that she was traveling the world flinging fingerless gloves everywhere she went. Then she shot him a beaming smile. “So there. We have something in common.”
“If you knit me fingerless gloves…”
She laughed. “I’ll put fingers on yours, how’s that? At least a middle finger, which is no doubt your favorite. No, I mean we’re both a little obsessive.”
“I’m not obsessive.”
“Your last vacation was in a war zone. You do target practice to relax. You’re obsessively tidy.”
“Says someone who left half her muffin on the floor in a pile of crumbs.”
“That’s been bothering you, hasn’t it?” She made a face at him as he handed her a small whisk broom and dustpan from under the sink. “I knew it would. Why do you think I did it?”
“Because you’re messy?” The little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth contrasted with his dry tone of voice.
“Well, yes. But also to prove a point. You’re compulsive too.” She crouched down to sweep up the muffin crumbs. As she got to her feet, she felt his gaze on her, heavy as her favorite weighted blanket. How could someone’s gaze give her a sense of security and also stir heat in her belly?
“An orderly living space is important. Mess leads to mistakes. It causes distraction. Order promotes focus and clear thinking. It’s not the same thing as knitting fingerless gloves.”
She brushed past him to dump the crumbs in the waste basket. It felt like rubbing elbows with a mountain range. “Knitting clears the mind. It releases stress, soothes anxiety, and promotes creative thinking. My mind makes all kinds of connections while I’m knitting.”
“Like what?”
“Like—” She stopped abruptly, because the first thing that came to mind was the moment in Thailand when she finally recognized the man she’d overheard at that yacht party in Thailand. The man she’d recorded on her iPhone having a very nefarious-sounding conversation. It had been nagging at her. She’d known him, known his face. She had an ability to remember faces that was nearly photographic, but sometimes it took her a while to recreate the context. That hadn’t happened until she’d been knitting on the next day’s shoot. While the other models yawned and drank hangover cures that were basically Bloody Mary’s, she knitted and thought, knitted anddidn’tthink, and that was when it came to her.
She’d seen his face during a live broadcast of a congressional hearing.He was a congressman.That was when she’d gone to the State Department, after which someone started following her…
“I have a meeting,” she said abruptly. Thinking about all this was giving her a headache. Had she done the right thing, reporting a congressman to the State Department? Leaving Thailand early, coming here?
His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Sounds urgent.”
“Yes. I need to get a few things from the local beauty salon, but the owner’s in Mexico for vacation. I’m supposed to meet someone who’s going to let me in.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“I can handle this one on my own.”
“Don’t you want people to know you have a trendy bodyguard?”
She laughed at the reminder of her ditzy performance, which now seemed like ancient history. She hadn’t bothered to play the flighty airhead since then.
