a buffet. You could get a new plate.”
“And waste good food?” She shook her head at him and picked up her fork. “I’m not going to perpetuate the stereotype of the ‘ugly American.’ Not if I can help it. It’s cold, but it’s still edible.”
They made small talk as they ate. And Savannah couldn’t believe this was really her. Where was the woman who was tongue-tied in the presence of the male of the species in a social situation? But everything seemed natural with Niall, as if she’d known him forever instead of meeting him for the first time this morning.
She frowned as she acknowledged the truth of that thought; she really knew nothing about Niall.
“Are you still a marine?” she blurted out.
He shook his head. “Four years was enough for me. My older brother made it his career, though, until—” He stopped abruptly, and Savannah wondered what he’d intended to say.
“Until...?”
“Until he was wounded and they gave him a medical discharge. Now he does something else.”
“If you didn’t make the Corps your career, what do you do?” She almost missed his slight hesitation.
“Security.”
She wondered about that infinitesimal pause, but didn’t ask him about it. Instead she said, “What made you decide to take this trip? I mean, it’s mostly couples. And it’s mostly people who are...” She cleared her throat. “Well, retired. I know why I’m here, but...”
He smiled at her. “I’m forty. Not retired yet, but not so young, either. And I have a bucket list, just like you. Everything seemed to dovetail with work, and so...”
He wasn’t being completely truthful. She didn’t know how she knew that; she just did. But she wasn’t ready to call him on it. Yet. Someday, she vowed, he’ll trust me enough to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
As soon as that thought occurred to her, another thought crept into her consciousness. What made her think there was going to be a someday with Niall?
* * *
They strolled leisurely through the hotel’s vast lobby afterward, in companionable silence for the most part. When they passed the shop where Savannah had purchased her dress, she stopped momentarily to look at the others in the window. “I almost bought that one,” she murmured, pointing to a red silk sheath with the most gorgeous gold embroidery in a very Chinese design.
“Red’s not your color.” Niall turned, and when his gaze traveled over her from head to toe, Savannah felt it as a caress.
“No?”
“No. It’s all wrong for you.”
She didn’t know what made her say it—she never flirted—but she teased, “I didn’t know you were a connoisseur of women’s clothing.”
A short huff of laughter answered her. “I’m not. But I’m a connoisseur of you.” His voice dropped. “And what you’re wearing is perfect...for you.”
She caught her breath at the blatant desire in his eyes, kindling an answering desire in her. And all at once she remembered this morning, and her determination that if Niall wanted to make love to her, she wasn’t going to say no. Except for that one time she’d fallen in love in her teens, she’d played it safe all her life where relationships were concerned. How many chances like this would come her way? How many opportunities would she have to live the fantasy?
You even planned for this, she reminded herself. There’s a box of condoms waiting upstairs. But she couldn’t make her lips form the words to invite him up to her room. She wanted to. But she couldn’t.
* * *
Niall saw Savannah safely back to her hotel room on the thirty-eighth floor. He leaned in and kissed her lightly, not trusting himself any further than that. If he kissed her the way he wanted to—the way she deserved—he wouldn’t have been able to walk away at all. And he needed to. The shy invitation in Savannah’s eyes was an indictment of him. Of his assignment. And of what he’d actually—for a brief period—considered doing. How do you make love to a woman you’d convinced yourself you could kill?
He could have done it yesterday, if absolutely necessary. He could have slept with a traitor without a qualm and gone after the evidence to convict her, or kill her, when she was still his target. But not now. Not when he knew his assignment was most likely pure BS. He’d done things for his country that kept him up at night, things he wouldn’t necessarily want his mother or sister to know about, but he’d never done anything of which he was ashamed...until now.
“Lock your door,” he whispered when he raised his head.
“Lock my door?” Bewilderment shone from her gray eyes.
“I want to hear that lock click behind you. Then I’ll know you’re safe...from me.”
She caught her breath. “What if I don’t want to be safe?”
The sound that issued from his throat was nothing more or less than a growl. “Damn it, Savannah! You don’t know the first thing about me.”
She stared up at him, an enigmatic expression on her face. “You’re wrong,” she said quietly. “I know you better than you think.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “The fact that you have no intention of following me into my room despite what your body is saying tells me all I really need to know about you.” She reached up and touched two fingers to his cheek. “Good night, Niall. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
Then she was gone, closing the door in his face the way he’d told her to do. And the click of the lock was audible.
He walked next door and inserted his keycard in the slot. Savannah didn’t know it, but he’d arranged to have the room right next to hers. She was also unaware he’d broken into her room last night while she was at the lavish three-hour Peking duck banquet outside their hotel, which Niall had missed.
He’d searched everything Savannah had with her and had found nothing. No incriminating papers. No CDs, DVDs or thumb drives that might contain top secret files. He’d hacked into her laptop, too, and copied her data files for perusal back in his hotel room, which he’d done into the wee hours of this morning. He’d also installed worm software on her laptop. Every keystroke she made, every website she visited, every email she sent—Niall would know about it.
And he’d planted nearly invisible voice-activated cameras and listening devices, all of which weren’t necessary if she wasn’t a traitor or a security risk. He wouldn’t turn off the electronic monitoring system yet, just to be on the safe side. But they were checking out of this hotel day after tomorrow. When she went down to breakfast that morning, he would retrieve the equipment he’d installed last night, then install it at their next hotel. Assuming he didn’t get called back to the US in the meantime.
Her laptop was a little more problematic. The worm he’d introduced into her operating system wasn’t as simple to remove as the cameras or audio devices. It could be done, but it would take hours. He’d have to wait for another time, and there wasn’t a rush to uninstall it. And if he was recalled, well...the worm would
