LITMIR.BIZ

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her damn birds. What’s the earliest you can get someone to the house? Tell them to give me a call when they get there.” Alex closed the phone and clipped it back on his belt. “Anything else you desperately need?”

      She gave him a list.

      HE COULD TELL it took all her self-control not to gloat. Smart woman. He respected self-control in anyone. He certainly got to exercise his a lot since he’d been around her. His hands itched to glide over those maddening curves that taunted him with her every move.

      He turned from her to open the fridge, welcoming the cold air that hit his face. Nothing in there but partially used bottles of ketchup and mustard, and a lonely fuzz-covered pickle in a glass jar on the bottom shelf. He went through the cabinets—Ramen noodles, coffee, tea, sugar, powdered milk, a couple of packages of pasta, paper plates and plastic utensils. Looked dismal so far. Then he hit the jackpot. A double-door cabinet full of MREs. He pulled out a pack with beef stew as the main entrée.

      “Would you like one?” He pointed to the stack of boxes.

      “What are they?”

      “Meal ready to eat. Military rations. Beef stew, beef ravioli, black bean and rice burrito, meat loaf, chili with macaroni.” He rattled off a few more options, but she didn’t appear particularly impressed.

      “Anything organic?”

      The worst part was, he knew she wasn’t joking.

      “It’s not gourmet food, but it’ll keep you alive.”

      The expression on her face spoke volumes.

      “If you think this is bad you should have seen the old C-rations.” He made an attempt at joking.

      She showed no sign of appreciation. “No, thanks.”

      “Suit yourself.” He opened the package then ripped the foil open and made a show of eating his stew as if he enjoyed it, even took the time to reconstitute the dessert with some hot water.

      She paged through a stack of old magazines—all on fishing and hunting—on the coffee table, trying not to look at him. He bit back a grin as she failed over and over again. She might have been mad at the sudden turn of events in her life, but she wasn’t about to roll over and play dead. She was wrestling for control with him. Cute, in a futile sort of way.

      She took a deep breath, put on a stern face and set down the magazine she was holding. “When is the reinforcement coming?”

      He took his time chewing and swallowing the stew that had the consistency and flavor of soggy cardboard. “About two hours.”

      The FBI was probably sending a couple of extra agents along with the bomb squad from Washington. In an emergency, his backup would have come from the Newtown Square FBI Field Office, but the finches hardly warranted the rush. A select group at the FBI headquarters who already knew and worked with the SDDU was preferable to bringing new people into the operation.

      Had he needed more substantial help than that, Colonel Wilson might have reassigned other SDDU team members currently on domestic duty, although that would come about only in the direst of circumstances. They were deep undercover in terrorist cells around the country. Pulling them out would have required steep justification.

      But of course, he could tell none of this to Nicola, no matter how desperate she was for information. She would never know about his real life, nor the SDDU, of which only two dozen or so—out of the 112 men and six women—served on domestic duty. The rest were scattered around the world trying to stop terrorists before they reached U.S. soil. He couldn’t wait to get back.

      She cocked her head to the side. “Other than the gym, I haven’t seen you around. Where were you?”

      He could tell her that much. Didn’t see what it could hurt at this point. “Treehouse.”

      She blinked her gorgeous green eyes. “Zak McKenzie’s?”

      He nodded. “Too old for playing fort, too young for necking, too smart for sneaking joints.”

      “He’s a good kid.”

      Better than I was, that’s for sure. Alex finished his meal, down to the nutrition-packed power bar, and tossed the packaging. “Neat treehouse. Whenever I can, I take higher ground. The empty place on your other side was tempting, though. It has air-conditioning.”

      “The Slocskys’? They’re on vacation,” she said. “Who else was watching?”

      “Just me.”

      “Yeah, right.”

      He shrugged, not much bothered by what she believed. “Up until today the case was fairly low priority.”

      If he hadn’t been back in the U.S. anyway, to take some time to regain his strength, the FBI would have probably taken the case. It wasn’t high risk enough for the SDDU to get involved. More than anything, he was there as a favor from the Colonel, who knew how much he would have hated hanging out at the office and had found a low-key assignment for him.

      “No one watched me when you slept? Doesn’t seem like thorough work.” She pursed her generous lips.

      “The security system watched.”

      “I don’t have a security system.”

      “That you know of.” In reality, her house was wrapped in electronics, hooked to his multitasking cell phone that reported any movement on the premises. During the day, she moved around too much for the system to be of any use, but at night the sensors were his eyes and ears, allowing him to rest his own.

      “You put up cameras?” Outrage gave surprising strength to her voice.

      “Sound and motion sensors.”

      She seemed to relax at that. She’d probably been worried that he had spied on her in the shower. He felt a fleeting moment of guilt but shook it off. Not his fault, she should have closed the blinds.

      “Don’t take this as an invasion of privacy. If I hadn’t been watching you, I wouldn’t have been there in the parking lot this morning.”

      A quick succession of emotions flashed through her expressive face, and made him wonder if she was remembering the bullets, the driver of the brown van.

      “You’ll be fine,” he said. He should have been able to find something more intelligent to say, but for the life of him he couldn’t. He hated the sight of her shoulders sagging as she nodded.

      She took a deep breath in a visible effort to pull herself together. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be treating you like a stalker. You were trying to protect me. I mean, you did. You saved my life. Thank you.” She got up and walked over to him, her right hand extended.

      He took it, so surprised at her frankness he forgot to let it go.

      “I’m sorry I’ve been such a witch. I just—I have no idea what’s going on, and I’m not handling it well, am I?”

      “You’re doing okay.” Another brilliant response. He finally regained his equilibrium and released her hand, immediately missing its soft warmth. “You took it better than most.” Not that he knew what other women did in similar situations. Still, she had kept her cool and, aside from demanding the finches, hadn’t been much trouble.

      Of course, the day was far from over. God only knew what awaited them. That reminded him. “I’m gonna run out to the car. I’ll set the alarm behind me. Don’t open any doors or windows. Don’t turn on the lights.”

      “Will we have to stay in the dark when night comes?”

      He nodded from the door. “We’re trying for the abandoned-farmhouse disguise.”

      He disarmed the system, restarted it, then, gun in hand, opened the door. Nothing moved outside. He stepped out and closed the door behind him before the system armed itself, then walked to the barn, careful to keep in the shadows. The phone on his belt vibrated

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