LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Three

      Thomas hadn’t stayed alive as the head of Mission Recovery by relying on luck or anyone’s mercy. He tried to tell himself he was following this woman out of professional courtesy, but it didn’t work. DeRossi was a weakness. One he’d purposely culled from his life years ago. He’d never had any real objectivity where this woman was concerned.

      They’d parted as friends—or so he’d thought—until she’d landed on the Initiative committee.

      Knowing she could look over his shoulder, question any or all of his decisions had only affirmed his choice to avoid a personal relationship—with her or anyone else. In this line of work you could have the job or the life, but not both.

      A tiny voice in his head suggested his niece and her soon-to-be husband disproved his theory. What might work for her, however, would never work for him. He was too set in his ways and there was an inherent distance he didn’t think he could bridge.

      He scowled, thinking back to those days working with Jo. They’d been good as partners and he’d assumed their chemistry had been more about the rush of fieldwork than any real connection. Except he’d never quite gotten her out of his system.

      “Tonight is all you get. I have to be at the Glenstone Lodge by tomorrow.”

      She nodded once.

      “For Casey’s wedding.”

      She nodded again.

      “She asked me to give her away.”

      Jo slanted him a look with those midnight eyes, then, without comment, pushed open the exit door.

      Cold air, swirling with heavy, wet snowflakes, battered them. Visibility was bad even though they were protected by the terminal building. He glanced up. The mountain peaks weren’t even a shadow on the horizon. The roads to Glenstone were probably already closed. “Lord, what a storm.”

      More silence from Jo as she stepped into the miserable weather.

      He reached to button his coat, belatedly realizing she didn’t have anything warmer than the flight attendant’s uniform blazer.

      “Take this.” He draped his overcoat across her shoulders. She graced him with a small, tight smile and rushed toward a waiting taxi. He didn’t know how she managed it on those needles she called heels.

      “I was about to give up on you, lady,” the driver said as they slid into the welcome warmth of his cab.

      “What does he mean by that?” Warnings clanged in Thomas’s head even as he closed the door. He could overpower her, but he was too curious about what she was really after.

      She shot him a look that confirmed he already knew the answer. He gave her points for remembering her field training and planning more than one exit.

      Thomas gave the name of the hotel and the driver pulled away from the curb. The typical airport traffic was lighter on the employee access route, but the cab fishtailed a bit in the worsening conditions. He hoped the driver knew which way was which, because Thomas had no idea. It wasn’t quite a whiteout, but the wind had picked up and was blowing snow sideways across the car.

      “Hard to believe this is October,” Jo said with a subtle nod toward the driver.

      “Looks more like January,” Thomas agreed.

      He had questions for her, all of which had to wait until they were alone. He heard an alert on his phone and pulled it from his pocket.

      He frowned, recognizing Deputy Director Holt’s personal number on the missed call list. Thomas had left clear instructions for the current cases. He scrolled down to check messages, but between the heaters on high and the interrupted signal he couldn’t make out anything but “committee.” Sitting next to Jo, he assumed Holt was trying to give him a heads up about her.

      “Problem?” Her smile was tight and her hands were in her pockets again.

      Thomas shook his head. “Nothing Holt can’t handle.”

      That answer only seemed to increase her anxiety as her lips thinned and she crossed her arms. When the cabbie turned toward long-term parking rather than the outlying circle of airport hotels, Thomas couldn’t ignore his instincts any longer.

      Slowly, his gaze locked with hers, he tucked the phone back in his pocket. Slower still, he placed his hands, fingers spread wide, on his thighs.

      When she didn’t move, he arched a brow.

      Finally, she followed suit, showing him her hands were empty before folding them in her lap. “Truce?”

      “Too soon to tell,” he replied with brutal honesty.

      “I know this is unexpected,” she said, her voice pitched too low for the cab driver to overhear. “Work with me. Please.”

      He thought of the wedding plans, of his beautiful niece turning into a lace-covered bridezilla monster and decided both he and Lucas had faced tougher challenges. The rehearsal and dinner was hardly optional, but given his current predicament—unarmed in a blizzard with an obviously determined and still-talented agent who had clearly made an effort to get his attention...

      “You have twenty-four hours.”

      She nodded, her tension easing fractionally.

      “I will not miss her wedding.”

      “Agreed.”

      He thought it was an odd response, but the cab pulled to a stop behind a beige compact SUV and their conversation halted.

      She paid the driver while he retrieved their bags from the trunk. When the parking lights flashed indicating she’d unlocked the vehicle, he opened the back hatch and put their luggage inside. The engine rumbled to life, startling him, and he looked over his shoulder to confirm she was controlling the car.

      “Remote start,” she said hurrying over.

      He suddenly caught a whiff of an unmistakable odor of a lighted fuse, a precise scent he’d hoped never to come across again.

      “Should have remembered it soon—”

      “Jo, run!” But she kept moving closer to the car.

      Throwing himself at her, he took them both to the icy pavement. He rolled them into the driving lane, his body the only shelter he could offer.

      In his mind, it was Germany all over again, right down to the snowy conditions.

      The blast of heat washed over them, obliterating the car and, for a moment, the blizzard conditions. The pavement shook with the force of the car dropping back down to earth and the detached, analytic part of his brain wondered just how high it had blown.

      He risked a glance toward the ball of fire. The luggage had been vaporized in the explosion. His clothes, his irreplaceable surprise for Casey and whatever Jo had packed for her little venture were long gone. Reactions and assessment had to wait for later. Right now, they needed

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