Page 68 of The Agent
“So how do we flush him out?” Natalie was tired of the constant tension of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Regina needed to have full custody of her baby when it was born, so Dobs had to be put away.
“You don’t.” Tully’s face was like granite. “You do absolutely nothing that would incite him to go after you.” She saw him make an effort to soften his expression. “Trust me, Nat. I will get him. Without endangering you.”
If she’d had an idea of how to prod Dobs into a foolhardy action, she might have argued with Tully. However, the only methods she could think of involved exposing Regina and that was obviously not happening. “Okay, I’m done with unpleasant subjects. Do you have any?”
He shook his head. “All I want to do is enjoy a good meal with a spectacular woman.”
Spectacular.That wasn’t something she got called every day. Her smile deepened and she added a little heat to it before she extended her foot to run the side of her instep up Tully’s calf.
His eyes lit with appreciation and lust. “Those are sexy shoes,” he said. “I want to see you wearing those and nothing else.”
Arousal flashed through her, making her skin warm and tighten. Holding his gaze over the rim of her Manhattan, she dipped her tongue down to scoop up the Luxardo cherry resting on the bottom. She held the dark-red fruit between her lips, biting down so she could suck the sweet juice out of it.
“If you don’t want dinner to be takeout, you’d better stop doing that,” Tully said, his voice turning hoarse.
She slowly drew the cherry into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed it. “I was only eating the garnish.” But she felt very smug. Ruffling Tully was an accomplishment.
He just threw her a steamy look.
“So,” she said. “Tell me about working at the FBI. What made you join?”
Surprise flitted across his face. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because it’s not a job many people choose.” She wanted to understand him better and tonight might be the last chance she had.
He shifted in his chair as though the question made him uncomfortable, a strange reaction from a man who seemed so sure of his place in life. “I studied engineering in college and got a job with the state.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t exactly exciting. I figured catching bad guys would be less boring than organizing orange traffic cones.”
“You’re an engineer?” She’d always assumed he’d majored in criminal justice or something similar.
“Yes, ma’am. I can build you whatever kind of bridge you desire. I guess you haven’t read my bio on the KRG website.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
“Why bother when I can go straight to the source?” It was odd that she hadn’t done the most basic homework on Tully, since she was noted for being up to date on both celebrity and local news. However, it had seemed wrong to have her opinion of him molded by outside sources. “I didn’t know the FBI hired engineers.”
He shrugged. “It’s useful when analyzing weak points terrorists might hit or analyzing building blueprints to set up raids. I also grew up handling firearms, so that was in my favor.”
“You’re from Pennsylvania, but that’s about all I know.”
“And that’s about as much as you want to know.” He looked relieved when the server appeared with their appetizer—a tapas platter loaded with exotic olives, various cheeses, and paper-thin slices of jamón serrano—along with a basket of assorted breads and herbed olive oils.
He really didn’t want to talk about his childhood, so she let him focus on the delicious food arrayed in front of them. He suggested combinations of cheese and ham, explained what the flavorings in the olive oils were, and kept her glass filled with fruit-laden sangria.
“I won’t be able to eat the main course,” she protested after he’d nudged a wedge of tortilla de patatas toward her.
“We can always take it home,” he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Oh no! I’m not missing the chocolate soufflé, no matter how much liquor you ply me with.”
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair before launching into an amusing story about one of his corporate clients, with names and identifying characteristics carefully redacted. She got the feeling he was doing this to forestall further questions about his past but she didn’t mind. It was fascinating to glimpse the world he worked in, which included private jets, multiacre estates, priceless wine and art collections, and fleets of exotic cars. The whims of his clients were sometimes capricious—like the woman who wanted a bodyguard who could go riding cross-country with her—but Tully considered each one a new challenge.
However, the stories that made his face light up were the ones where he got to use his FBI training the most, planning antikidnapping tactics or setting up security on one of those giant estates.
He insisted that Natalie tell him about the salon, asking her questions about her staff and her customers, treating her as though her job was just as important as what his own clients did. She realized that this dinner was the first time they’d talked about their normal lives, although calling Tully’s life normal was pushing it.
As she watched the play of expressions across his face, she knew she would never forget the way the corners of his dark-gray eyes crinkled when he smiled or how sharp and clean the line of his jaw was. She could almost feel the texture of his golden-brown hair as it caught the candlelight. The leisurely cadence of his deep voice stroked her like the notes of a steamy tango.
By the time the chocolate soufflé arrived, she just wanted to go back to his house. Until she dipped her spoon through the light crust to find the warm chocolate sauce the server had poured in at tableside. The heady scent of chocolate swirled around her like a delicious cloud and when the soufflé hit her taste buds, she nearly groaned in ecstasy.
“You know, you look almost exactly like that when you come.” Tully’s voice was a low rumble and Natalie realized she’d closed her eyes to savor the dessert.
