Secret Assignment (26 page)

“Nonsense,” Lydia said firmly. “She worked hard and risked a lot for me. You’ll be paid every dime.”

“Not until I finish the job.”

Gideon’s gaze snapped to the now-open interview room door. Shannon stood in the opening, looking bone-tired but beautiful.

“I have more archiving to do,” she told Jesse. “I’ll stick around a day or two and get that done, then I’ll head back home.”

“Just because we caught this group of people doesn’t mean there won’t be others showing up for the same thing,” Jesse warned, lowering his voice.

“So let it be known that Cooper Security now has the general’s papers,” Shannon suggested. “At least if they go after the journal there, you have tons of security and a boatload of trained agents to thwart them.” She smiled at Lydia and drew her into a fierce hug. “So glad to see you!”

Lydia laughed softly. “Delighted to see you, too, my dear.”

Shannon looked over Lydia’s shoulder at Gideon. “You holding up?”

He grinned, ridiculously close to tears at the mere sight of her. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’m great,” she said with a grin, making his heart turn a couple of flips.

There was no time for them to speak alone for the next hour, as they returned the Cadillac to the garage and Jesse and Rick joined them on the boat ride back to Nightshade Island.

Worse, Jesse decided to stay on the island as added security, sending his brother—and the general’s coded journal—home on the helicopter with their cousins. Lydia offered to open another room for him, but he insisted on taking the sofa.

“It’ll be a couple of days before we can leave the island,” Gideon warned, slanting a look at Shannon, who shot him a helpless smile. “Tropical Storm Felicia’s going to hit late tonight.”

“Extra hands to help you bail,” Jesse said with a placid smile.

Shannon rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs. “I need a shower.”

Gideon did, too. “I guess I’ll head over to the caretaker’s house and get cleaned up myself,” he said to Jesse and Lydia, already on his way out the back door.

He made it halfway through the garden when he heard a soft hiss. Looking up at the second-floor balcony, he saw Shannon standing on the railing, barely visible in the purple twilight, grinning down at him.

“Meet me at the lighthouse in thirty minutes,” she said in a loud whisper, her voice carrying to him on the blustery wind. She slipped back inside the house through the nearest French doors.

His heart suddenly pounding an excited cadence, Gideon hurried up the path to the caretaker’s house. He bathed quickly and took extra time to shave, brush his teeth and comb his hair. Like a kid on his first date, he thought, grinning at the man in the bathroom mirror.

Night had fallen by the time he started making his way toward the lighthouse, and rain was beginning to blow in from the sea in salty gusts. He wrapped his rain slicker more tightly around him and ran all the way to the lighthouse door.

“Shannon?” he called when he was safely inside.

“Up here.” Her voice carried down to him from the top, echoing off the damp stone walls.

He shrugged off the slicker, leaving it to drip dry on the bottom step.

He took the steps two at a time, arriving on the landing with his heart in his throat and anticipation burning in his belly. The door to the service room stood open, a warm golden glow flickering inside, beckoning him to enter.

Shannon stood near the table holding the foghorn control, lighting a second candle. “I thought about just turning on a flashlight and leaving it on, but I like the ambience of candles.” She turned around to look at him, a half smile curving her lips. “Alone at last.”

She looked beautiful in the most simple, elemental way possible. Her dark hair was still wet, falling over her shoulders in damp strands. Her face was scrubbed clean and glowed like the morning sun. She wore a loose-fitting sundress the color of champagne that nevertheless seemed to hug each curve and plane of her body like a lover.

He’d never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted her.

The burgeoning silence between them was broken by the grumble of her stomach. She laughed aloud, the sound like music. “Guess I should have sneaked us some food from the kitchen.”

He laughed with her, closing the distance between them in a couple of steps. He wrapped his arms around her narrow waist and pulled her flush against him. “I’m so glad you didn’t leave today.”

“Hard to get rid of, remember?” She lifted her face for a kiss, and he obliged, pouring out all his pent-up terror and soul-crushing relief until they were both breathless.

He drew back, cradling her face between his palms. “When I saw Leo standing with that pistol to your head—”

“At least you knew I was alive,” she murmured, a haunted look darkening her midnight eyes. “I heard Raymond firing all those rounds, and I thought I’d find you dead.”

“I wanted to kill him,” Gideon confessed. “It felt like a fire in my belly. I could have dropped him when his ammo gave out. I could have killed him when he tried to pull his second weapon. But I didn’t.”

She cocked her head, giving him a considering look. “That doesn’t surprise me, you know.”

He lifted his chin. “I’m not my father.”

“No, you’re not.” She wrapped her arms around him as if she had no intention of ever letting him go.

“You remember when you asked me what I was going to do after Lydia moved away from Nightshade Island?” he asked.

She nodded, her forehead rubbing lightly against his chin. “I do.”

He bent and whispered in her ear, “I plan to go wherever you go.”

She kissed his throat. “We really are hiring at Cooper Security. I talked to Jesse on the boat trip back here—he’s going to let me work on decrypting the journal while we try to track down what happened to the Harlowes. One way or the other, we’ll figure out what the general knew.”

“I could help. I knew the general. I might see patterns you wouldn’t.”

“Then it’s set.” She kissed him again. “I know we barely know each other. I’m not expecting some kind of big declaration or anything—”

“I love you, Shannon.” He’d thought the words would be difficult to say aloud, but they weren’t. They slipped from his tongue as easily as breathing. “I don’t think I can ever stop.” He grinned, feeling a little sheepish and a whole lot wonderful. “Hope that’s okay.”

She laughed. “You big guys don’t fall easy, but when you do, it’s ‘Timber, get out of the way!’”

He kissed her again, desire turning his pulse to thunder in his head, drowning out the keening moan of the rising wind. Only the sound of a voice calling up from below broke through the haze of need. “Shannon, are you up there?”

It was Jesse Cooper.

Gideon pressed his forehead against Shannon’s. “I hate your brother.”

She laughed. “Give him time. He’ll grow on you.” She let him go and walked out onto the platform. “Go back to the house, Jesse. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jesse called back.

Shannon turned to look at Gideon, her eyes glowing with happiness. “I’m sure.”

He smiled back.

* * * * *

COOPER SECURITY
continues next month
with SECRET KEEPER,
by award-winning author Paula Graves.
Look for it wherever
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* * * * *

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Wrangled
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Chapter One

The knock at the door surprised Zane Chisholm. He’d just spent the warm summer day in the saddle rounding up cattle. All he wanted to do was kick off his boots and hit the hay early. The last thing he wanted was company.

But whoever was knocking didn’t sound as if they were planning to go away anytime soon. Living at the end of a dirt road, he didn’t get uninvited company—other than one of his five brothers.
So that narrows it down,
he thought as he went to the window and peered out through the curtains.

The car parked outside was a compact, lime-green with Montana State University plates. Definitely not one of his brothers, he thought with a grin. Chisholm men wouldn’t be caught dead driving such a “girlie” car. Especially a lime-green one.

Even more odd was the young, willowy blonde pounding on his door. She must be lost and needing directions. Or she was selling something.

His curiosity piqued, he went to answer her persistent knock. As the door swung open, he saw that her eyes were blue and set wide in a classically gorgeous face. She wore a slinky red dress that fell over her body like water. The woman was a stunner.

She smiled warmly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He waited, wondering what she wanted, and enjoying the view in the meantime.

Her smile slipped a little as she took in his worn jeans, his even more worn cowboy boots and the dirty Western shirt with a torn sleeve and a missing button.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he said when he saw her apparent disappointment in his attire.

“Oh?” She looked confused now. “Did I get the night wrong? You’re Zane Chisholm and this is Friday, right?”

“Right.” He frowned. “Did we have a date or something?” He knew he’d never seen this woman before. No red-blooded American male would forget a woman like this.

She reached into her sparkly shoulder bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “Your last email,” she said, handing it to him.

He took the paper, unfolded it and saw his email address. It appeared he had been corresponding with this woman for the past two days.

“If you forgot—”

“No,” he said quickly. “Please, come in and let’s see if we can sort this out.”

She stepped in but looked tentative, as if not so sure about him.