Page 54 of Close Pursuit

As they finished their meal, of which he’d tasted not a bite, he motioned over the maître d’ and asked the fellow quietly to call them a cab and let him know the instant it arrived. He palmed a U.S. twenty and passed it to the guy who smiled broadly.

“Have some dessert,” Alex urged Katie. “The hotel’s concierge told me the chocolate mousse here is excellent.”

“Mmm. Chocolate. I can never say no to it.” She added under her breath, “Even when I’m about to die.”

“Might as well seize the moment and enjoy it,” he replied grimly.

“Has your life always been like this?”

He frowned slightly. “I’ve never had any illusions that I would die of old age.”

“What an awful way to live.”

“It is what it is.”

She fell silent for a time and then said firmly, “I plan to live to a ripe old age and embarrass my great-grandchildren every chance I get.”

His gut twisted. Then she had better get far away from him as fast as she could. He said quietly, “I promise, as soon as I can get you somewhere safe, I’ll get out of your life and take my danger with me.”

She looked like a puppy he’d just drop-kicked in the gut.Dammit. It took every ounce of his self-discipline not to take the words back, not to promise to stay with her as long as she would have him---

Whoa, there. Rewind. As long as she would have him? Uhh, no. He didn’t do long-term relationships. Hell, he didn’t dorelationships!

The chocolate mousse arrived and he said low, “Be ready to go on a moment’s notice. Speed will be vital. We’ll go out front and jump in the cab waiting there. But we need to get out of here without drawing any attention to ourselves, so walk out of here at a normal but brisk pace. Got all that?”

She scooped up a spoonful of the creamy chocolate dessert and held it out to him. “Share it with me?”

Reluctantly, he accepted the offered bite of chocolatey goodness. It was an apt metaphor for their relationship. He dashed her hopes and she offered him sweetness anyway. How in the hell did one woman get to be her age and still be so damned naïve?

The mousse slid off the cold spoon and melted in his mouth, sinfully sweet with just enough of a coffee bite to offset the sugar. Just like her.

He watched as she took a bite.

“Oh my God, that’s delicious,” she groaned. His desire stirred at the look of sheer hedonistic pleasure that filled her eyes. Screw the hit team outside. He wanted to fall into her and put that look in her eyes, himself.

“You’re falling behind on ooey-gooey goodness,” she declared. “And come to think of it, you’re behind in the pleasure department, too. I owe you a couple of major orgasms.”

He about choked on the mouthful of mousse she’d just given him. He was saved from having to reply by the maître d’ raising a finger at him from by the front door.

“Time to go,” he bit out.

Pasting on a brave, fake smile, Katie gathered Dawn while he shouldered the baby bag. He placed his hand in the small of her back and escorted her politely from the dining room. They hit the front door and, following his instructions, Katie raced down the steps and leaped into the cab with him right on her heels.

“Go. Now!” he yelled at the cabbie.

Startled, the guy peeled away from the curb hard.

“Two hundred dollars U.S. to get us to the American Embassy as fast as you can,” he told the driver. “Don’t stop for anything or anyone.”

The guy’s eyes widened in alarm, but then greed kicked in as Alex peeled the bills out of his wallet where the cabbie could see them in the rear view mirror. The driver took him literally, running red lights and screeching through intersections to the sound of retreating car horns. The wild drive made it impossible for their tails to hide themselves, and a black Russian Chaika tore across Tashkent behind them.

“Another hundred bucks if I can I borrow your cell phone,” Alex said to the driver.

“Without taking his eyes off the road, the guy flipped a cell phone over the back seat. Alex tossed the bills forward.

He contacted a local operator and asked to be connected to the American Embassy.C’mon, c’mon, he silently urged the slow phone system. That Chaika was getting damned close and might have orders that included taking them out.

“American Embassy, Tashkent,” a female voice said in his ear.

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