Page 27 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

You know exactly the harm,she reminded herself.

Before she could allow herself to dwell, her phone rang, pulling her reluctantly out of Sam’s embrace.

“No, don’t, we were nearing fifty percent,” Sam said, arms held beseechingly toward her. She waved a hand, warding him away, because there was only one person who called her, and he never did so unless it was important. And it turned out now was no different.

“We have a problem,” The Colonel began.

Chapter 16

Celeste had lost track of the number of times the man had said that to her over the years. It was, in fact, the only reason he ever called her. Because the unique skill set she possessed, the one he trained her to have, was the one he called on for situations that needed to be dealt with. Briefly, her eyes flicked to Sam and away. Surely she wasn’t about to be tasked with his demise, was she? Could she do that? She’d have to think about it, if that was the purpose for the call.

“How’s the package?” The Colonel continued.

Her eyes flicked to Sam again. He was…aggravating and unexpected, but she was certain that wasn’t what The Colonel meant. “Moderate.”

He grunted, doubtless a commentary on her long pause. The man always seemed to have the preternatural ability to know what the people under his command were thinking. “I’m sending a team.”

“Extraction?” she asked, half relieved and half disappointed. She would be glad when the arrangement was over, but she would also sort of miss him, at least for a while. For a short time it had been nice to know there were other people in the worldstumbling through life, trying and failing to get it together and have everything go right.

“No. Recon. We haven’t had a chance to debrief him yet.”

“Pardon me, sir, but can’t you do that after you extract him?”

“That’s the thing, Sergeant Major. We can’t, at least not yet. His departure set off a chain of events in an already overheated situation. We have to let things settle in that part of the world before we make any attempt to move him.”

Her hand gripped the phone. Despite not being a great student of world events back in school, she’d learned an enormous amount by living and working all over the globe. Enough to say, “That could take years.”

“Yes. I don’t expect you to be tasked with him that long, obviously. We’ll know better how to proceed after the team gets there. They’ll be staying with you also. I’ve compensated accordingly. Buy yourself some new tires, Sergeant Major. They’re not equipped for the weather you’ll be dealing with.”

And then he was gone. She didn’t bother to try and ask how he knew the condition of her tires because of course he did. He probably knew what she was wearing right now and how she and Sam and slept curled together like homeless puppies last night. Fighting a blush—ablush—she turned away from Sam.

“Am I going to die?” Sam asked.

“Yes, but who can say when,” Celeste replied, tossing her phone onto the counter as she continued to avoid his gaze. He was herefor the long haul.Here in her house, in her space, in her healing place. How was she supposed to figure out her life with him standing in the way, being cute and charming and so weird that it somehow doubled the charm?Assassin rule number one: don’t fall for the terrorists, no matter how long their lashes.

“Are you having some sort of mental break? Because you’re staring really hard at that tacky wallpaper,” Sam said. “Also,your fists are clenched like you’re about to spin toward me and beat adorably on my chest in tiny frustration.”

“There’s no such thing as tiny frustration,” she said, pressing her thumb to the middle of her forehead.

“Fair point,” he agreed. “Are you allowed to tell me what that was about? Because I’m kind of getting the hint it had to do with me. And unless it was your bestie who is going to come give you a makeover that will kickstart our epic love story, it kind of feels like I should know about it.”

“The Colonel is sending a team,” she ground out.

He paused. “A murder team?”

“We don’t call it murder if you’re the bad guy,” she informed him.

“Heh, heh. Sure, okay, but that’s not exactly reassuring because, in the most technical sense and on a moral level, I’m not actually the good guy.”

“They’re not coming to kill you.” She didn’t addyetbut it hung unspoken in the air between them. “They’re coming to interview you.”

Somehow that only made him tenser. “Did he say who?”

“No,” she drawled.

He swallowed hard. “The girl, you know, the one I told you about.”

“The jilted bride.”

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