things once, but since Celia, he preferred his women with eyes wide open. Liaisons with innocents were especially taboo. And Ethan suspected they didn’t come any more innocent than Kelly Taylor.
So instead of a lover, he’d found a friend, a much more valuable commodity.
“Ethan?” Her voice glided over his name like bourbon swirled on the sides of a glass. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, Kel.” He grabbed his pants off the seat beside him, steadying the wheel as snowflakes dotted his windshield. “Just kinda busy right this second.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
Ethan glanced down at his bare legs and boxers. “No, thanks. I’ve got it under control.”
His body tightened.
“I’m always here to give you a hand.”
Ethan stifled a groan.
“Are you okay? Should I tell Hatch we’ll debrief later?”
Debrief? Ethan resisted the urge to cover himself. He drove one-handed down the lonely stretch of road while sliding into his Brooks Brothers pants. “No thanks.”
“If you’re sure you’re up for the meeting.”
He was seconds away from being “up” for a hell of a lot more if he didn’t finish this call. He resolved to focus on her words rather than her voice. “I’m only five minutes out. Once I upload my after-action report from the Gastonia assignment—”
“Already done. I had a head start to get on top of things.”
An image of her on top of other things nearly sent Ethan into a snow-filled ditch.
Apparently her words posed a hazard after all with each syllable blanketed in her intoxicating tones. The afternoon promised to be long and painful. “Thanks, Kelly.”
“My pleasure.”
Ethan swerved short of driving up a road sign.
Now that would be a hell of a way to go, pants down and totally turned on by the equivalent of encrypted phone sex.
A voice like that should come with some kind of warning label. Don’t use while others are driving or operating heavy machinery.
Ethan buckled his belt while driving past the agency radar detector at the designated speed to signify he wasn’t under duress. “Need to sign off. Approaching the perimeter.”
“See you soon.”
The connection died.
Silence echoed in his car. Ethan accelerated around the corner back up to eighty, steering one-handed while exchanging his diver’s watch for a Cartier timepiece.
His senses cleared and a mental image of Kelly overlaid the sensual torture of her voice. Large chocolate eyes invited a person to climb right into her soul.
Those vulnerable eyes, too full of some misguided infatuation, offered all the reminder he needed to leave her the hell alone. He knew firsthand how a broken heart crippled a person and wouldn’t deal the same blow to anyone else.
Especially not to Kelly.
Besides, he had enough on his agenda with a Code Delta—make or break for a man testing his ability to stay at the top of his game.
Ethan squashed doubts and slowed over the grate in the road that held the covert camera to check the Jaguar’s undercarriage for explosives. He would simply keep his mind on the mission. He’d identified his weakness, right? No softening, none of that sensitivity garbage.
Nix the emotions. Just as on the basketball court, he needed to keep his head clear and his emotions locked up tight. He would plant his eyes firmly on her sweet, wholesome face at all times as a reminder that the voice was a red herring.
The rush of an impending job simmered. Every life saved brought the thrill of cheating death, a beast that had already taken too much when it had snatched Celia, when it took his parents.
Ethan plowed around the last curve, the brick quadrangle of ARIES buildings slipping into sight behind a deceptively decorative fence. He only had to endure the next few hours—one day, max—and he’d be back out in the field, far away from Kelly Taylor’s romanticized notions.
Kelly Taylor hated Valentine’s Day.
After having spent all twenty-four of hers alone, she dreaded the season when Cupid shoved her social ineptitude in her face like a Boston cream pie. And this one promised to be a whopper.
Perched at the conference table, Kelly clicked away on one of the laptops beside Hatch while they waited for Ethan Williams to arrive. She’d hoped the Gastonia assignment would keep Ethan occupied through the holiday.
Apparently Cupid had ignored her wishes yet again.
She still couldn’t believe she’d given herself away to Ethan with one silly look. After two years of keeping the ridiculous infatuation to herself, she’d let a single moment of weakness betray her.
As if the whole crush wasn’t embarrassing enough.
Ethan, with all his playboy ways and bad-boy smiles, was totally not the sort of guy she wanted for anything other than friendship. Not that her hormones seemed to care one bit what she wanted.
At least she wouldn’t be stuck out there with him and all those Valentine’s Day decorations some romantic fool had plastered through the stark ARIES lobby in an incongruous display.
Part of her insisted she bore partial responsibility for her dateless status. Years spent in the classroom conjugating verbs from every European language imaginable left her with minimal real-world experience.
So what if she cared more about her career than clothes? Who could keep up with all the trends anyway? And if her mother waved one more make-up gift pack in her face, Kelly vowed she would scream. She’d tried lipstick once and had paid a price far too high for the wrong kind of attention it brought her way.
Never again would she be the helpless graduate student at the mercy of a stalking professor.
The CIA job offer had seemed like a liberating gift from the gods. She certainly hadn’t expected to spend ten hours a day behind a desk in operational support. The closest she’d come to a weapon was her docu-binder.
The speakerphone buzzed on Hatch’s desk, announcing Ethan’s arrival. Kelly’s stomach clenched around her breakfast bagel.
Hatch pushed away from the conference table as Ethan sauntered through the open door. She allowed herself a weak moment to soak up the image of him.
How strange that a man who’d made it to ARIES headquarters in half the normal time still looked as if he’d strolled the whole way. His charcoal-gray suit over a turtleneck hung from his lean body with a negligent élan.
Jet-black hair gleamed with molten life under the sterile office lights. She always liked his hair right after a deep-cover assignment, the longer length giving him a more reckless
