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“Hmm.” His stupid stomach rumbled, and he glanced up at her to see if she’d heard. From her sly grin, he guessed she had. “Hand me the phone and I’ll call it in.”
He punched in the number for room service, and a moment later, a man with a thick accent answered the phone. “Miss Williams, Mr. Nixon, thank you for calling Al Ewaans. How may we serve you this evening?”
Somehow Spencer wasn’t surprised they knew the names of the people staying in this suite. Though in a hotel of this caliber, maybe all guests got similar treatment. “We’d like one hummus platter with a side of tabbouleh, one order of jumbo prawn kebabs with a side of grilled halloumi, and four bottles of pale ale.” He was grateful Jumail’s interpretation of religious law allowed foreigners to drink alcohol.
“Very good, sir. May I interest you in any of our delicious baklava or knafeh for dessert?”
Spencer gazed at Toni, who had stretched out on her end of the divan, looking like some kind of frigging centerfold come to life, and swallowed hard. Nothing the restaurant could offer would compete with the delicious sight in front of him. Still, Toni had exhibited a sweet tooth earlier. “Thank you. One of each, please.”
“Very good, sir. We’ll have your order delivered right away.”
He fumbled to replace the receiver without taking his eyes off Toni. “Food’s on the way.”
“Thanks.” She clutched a large throw pillow to her middle, blocking his view of most of her. He sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face, his stubble scratching his palm.Damn.She’d gone and taken a bath, and he hadn’t even bothered to change out of his suit, though he had put his stained tie aside to send down for cleaning. Of course, he’d been busy scouring the suite for bugs and taking inventory of all the exits and possible sniper hideouts just in case. Wouldn’t do to accompany his target halfway around the world only to have her taken hostage. And when all that was done and he’d found himself at loose ends, he’d expected her to come out at any moment, ready to head down to dinner, so it hadn’t seemed worth taking the time to change.
Probably wasn’t worth it now, either, since dinner would be coming up in just a minute. He’d bet the turnaround time at places like this was lightning fast. But in the meantime… His glance slid to her phone sitting on the cushion beside her. If he had a moment, he could slip it away from her and check her texts, make sure she wasn’t talking to her father on a regular basis. He didn’t think she was lying to him—but it never hurt to make sure.
As if reading his thoughts, she grabbed the cell and set it on an end table beside her, out of his reach.
Spencer pushed to his feet and walked over to a set of French doors that opened out onto a small balcony. Maybe fresh air would do him good, help clear his mind for the mission ahead. The sun was already setting over the rooftops of the city, and the panorama looked like something out of a movie, hues of purple and deep orange staining the horizon.
He and Kyle had discussed adding extra security for Toni on the trip, but considering there were only four of them now and they were stretched thin covering all their investigative avenues as it was, Kyle had thought it best to continue with only Spencer for the time being. If he found he needed more backup, the team would be only a text or call away. Meanwhile, the others would keep working to discover who was responsible for the shooting at Toni’s office.
Spencer pulled his phone out again, glad to see there was finally an update from Kyle, short and not quite sweet.
At Best Western. Finally. Team homicide imminent. Have bail money on standby.
Encryption cracked.
Per Hayley, coded software is used for tracking purposes.
More info later.
Tracking, huh? The only reason he could think of for terrorists wanting to track anything was to plan attacks on specific targets. Spencer leaned against the sturdy railing, peering down at the streets far below. Seventy-four floors up, there was a constant breeze and a subtle sway of the structure beneath his feet. Then again, maybe he was just still dazed from his beautiful suite-mate.
“So,” Toni said, joining him. She rested her forearms on the railing beside him, her position inadvertently giving him a nice view right down her shirt. He knew he shouldn’t look, but hell, he was only human. “What makes a man become a SEAL?”
He managed to drag his eyes away from the too-tempting expanse of her creamy chest and turned his back on the dazzling skyline. “Can’t speak for everyone, but for me it was 9/11.”
“Did you know someone in the attacks?”
“Not personally. But we had a neighbor who’d lost her brother in the Twin Towers. I saw how she struggled with it, every year on the anniversary, and it made an impact on me. When I got old enough to really understand it, I decided that I wanted to do my part to defend freedom. The minute I was old enough, I went straight down to my neighborhood Navy office and signed up. After boot camp, they accepted me into the marksmanship program, then into SEAL training. Now, here I am.” He picked at some nonexistent lint on the front of his dress shirt. “What about you? What did you want to be when you were growing up? I don’t think many kids imagine running a nonprofit.”
She laughed. “Yeah, nobody daydreams about filling out grant applications.” She scrunched her nose and stared up at the darkening sky. “Believe it or not, I used to think that, someday, I’d run a restaurant.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. My Aunt Nana—she wasn’t really my aunt, but I called her that anyway—she had an Italian restaurant on the ground floor of the building where we lived. I used to hang out in her kitchen all the time when my mom was working. Dad never came around, so I was on my own most of the time.” She gave a small shrug, her sad tone tugging at Spencer’s heart. “This one time, when I was about nine, she got called away on a family emergency and put me in charge while she was gone.”
“Put you in charge? At nine?”
“Yep.” Toni grinned at him. “I loved it. I ran everything for the whole night—or I thought I did. Front of the house, kitchen, everything. All the staff knew me, and most likely they were just playing along and pretending to follow my orders, but that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I like running the show. So yeah, I thought I’d run a restaurant—but when I landed with the foundation instead, it felt like a good fit. I do enjoy being in charge.”
“Only child?” he asked.
