Authors: Misty Evans
“What’s he doing here?” Cooper muttered.
“Good question,” Thomas said. He started walking forward. “I’ll go ask him.”
Cooper grabbed the younger man’s arm, stopping him as he watched Lugmeyer nod and disconnect. “Wait. Let’s see what he’s up to.”
Thomas faded back and Cooper followed, the two of them keeping close to the same grapevines and trellises, only farther back.
The tour of the vineyard complete, the hostess was wrapping up her speech and inviting everyone inside for the wine tasting. That was to be followed by lunch and Senator Halston’s address. People clapped, cameras snapped, and everyone followed the senator and hostess to the main house.
Lugmeyer hung back, typing something on his phone. As if he felt Cooper and Thomas watching him, he looked up and glanced around. They kept out of sight, and finally, Lugmeyer jogged off to catch up with the group.
Shadowing Halston was one thing. Shadowing Halston without being seen by Lugmeyer was another. Maybe Thomas’s idea was better. Confront Lugmeyer and see why he was there. Did he have a lead on Reese and Bianca or was he simply a fan of the senator?
“We’ve scoped this entire place,” Cooper said. “Reese and Bianca aren’t here. I say we go down the list and check out the other sites. See if anything pops. If we come up empty-handed, we’ll catch up with Halston and continue to shadow him.”
“Damn, I was looking forward to a nice glass of wine and some lunch.”
The kid was always thinking about his stomach. “You don’t drink wine.”
“Maybe I’ll start.”
“Focus. If you were Reese and wanted to talk to the Senator for some reason, say about your last mission, which winery would you set up camp at?”
Thomas brought up the itinerary on his phone’s screen as they walked toward the parking lot. “The last one. It’s the end of the day, most of the journalists have their story and pictures and have left to make their deadlines. The tourist crowd is thinner—those that are left are probably drunk and not paying much attention. The senator’s feeling good and ready to call it a night. Bianca would know it’s the perfect time to approach him, if that’s Reese’s plan.”
“I say we start there and see if we can flush them out.”
“Anything beats another tour.”
The two bumped fists and headed for their rental car.
A male bartender with a goatee and wavy dark hair was making eyes at Bianca as Cal stood in the doorway.
She was swirling red wine in a glass. “And how does this differ from the first Zinfandel?” she asked.
Bianca had never been much of a drinker…a beer would make her loopy. Two and she’d fall asleep on him. Since he’d never been much of a drinker either, that suited him just fine.
At the moment, he wondered why the hell she was tasting wines. He figured she’d be making plans for the Halston encounter, and possibly going off on a tangent and calling the president to warn him about a terrorist threat or assassination attempt in Chicago.
“This Zin is lighter bodied,” the bartender said, his voice smooth, and his gaze seeming to find a different body more interesting as he not-so-subtly undressed her with his eyes. “Great berry fruit with a touch of vanilla.”
She sampled it, licked her lips, and held the glass out in front of her. “I like this one.”
“Figured you would.” He grinned. “Fits your personality.”
Cal strode forward, a sudden urge driving him. An urge he had to tame before the bartender ended up choking on his own wine. He stopped beside Bianca’s bar stool and glared at the guy. “You don’t know her personality.” He jerked his head at the door. “Get lost.”
“Cal,” Bianca said, leaning toward him with a sly smile on her face. “Thought you’d never get here.”
The bartender’s gaze hardened. “Look, buddy—”
Laying his hands on the edge of the bar, Cal gripped it hard to keep from punching the guy. “Get out.”
“It’s okay,” Bianca said to the man. “He’s my husband.”
The bartender scowled and Cal scowled back. The challenge in his face or the grip he still had on the bar seemed to change the guy’s mind about staying. He threw down a bar towel he’d been wiping his hands on and headed for the door. On his way by Maggie, she growled low in her throat.
Before the door had even shut, Bianca was handing Cal one of the glasses. “Try this.”
“I don’t like wine.”
Her eyes were mischievous, playful. Was she drunk? “You’ll like this. It’s a petite sirah. Heavy tannins, lots of blackberry. Dark and brooding like you.”
“I’m not dark and brooding.”
She leaned forward, tilting her face up to his and patting his cheek. He smelled the wine on her warm breath. “Yes, you are, Cal.”
Taking the glass from her hand, he set it on the scarred bar top. Maggie was now making her way around the room, checking out the tables and chairs, nose to the floor. “What are you doing here, B?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“You don’t drink.”
Her eyes sparked. “Maybe I do.”
“Since when?”
She straightened her spine. “Since you left me.”
God, not this again. He set his jaw so he didn’t yell, and placed his elbows on the bar so he could focus on something besides the accusation in her eyes. After the last miscarriage, he felt so helpless, the only thing he could do was lose himself in work. Bianca had been devastated, but from a life filled with disappointments, she’d taught herself how to become aloof and apathetic in order to hide the pain. When he reached for her, to comfort and offer some type of solace, she acted like a cat. Her hackles went up and she moved away from him. As if it were his fault. As if his touch were like sandpaper.
Finally, he’d given up. He was hurting too, but he couldn’t express it. Couldn’t stand to watch her deny her own feelings even though he knew it was the only way she knew to get through the blow of losing a second child.
His heart beat a heavy rhythm in his ribcage as he tried to give her what she needed. “I’m sorry, B. About leaving. About the baby. All of it. I tried to be there for you, but it seemed like you didn’t want me. I never meant to drive you to drink.”
Her anger vanished. She slumped against the bar, putting her elbows on it alongside his and sighed. “You didn’t. I’m not a drinker. I don’t know why I said that. It’s this situation. The stress.”
He knew the feeling. “You really think there will be an attack on the president?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t panicking and calling Linc Norman to warn him.”
“I’ve notified the taskforce that something is going down. Cooper will alert the proper authorities.”
Cal’s pulse went into overdrive. “You did
what
? You weren’t supposed to contact anyone.”
“So sue me.” She met his gaze head-on. “I have to report any credible threat to the president. I’m not sure there even
is
a threat, but I couldn’t ignore the logic of this. I couldn’t call my boss at C&C, but I could at least put Cooper on the trail. And don’t worry, he won’t be able to find us, and even if he does, he’s not the one trying to kill me.”
Famous last words. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the only one in this room with a hero complex, thank you very much.” She took another long sip and her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “My usual job at the NSA requires me to make tough calls to protect our borders and save lives, sometimes even the president’s. I thrive at my job. But here I sit, my career burned while I twiddle my thumbs and a senator goes free to leak more information that could endanger hundreds, if not thousands of Americans. Otto Grimes is still free. My president, the man I’ve been protecting for three plus years, could be in danger. The men in your unit died because of me, and all I’m doing is trying to save my own ass at the moment.”
“My men didn’t die because of you. They died because of me. I knew something was off that night. I should have called off the mission.”
She shook her head. “You were only following orders.”
Maggie came over to nudge Cal’s leg. He patted her head, and seemingly satisfied, she went back to the door and laid down. “Neither of us was playing with full knowledge of how the deck was stacked against us. We didn’t know about the leak.”
She closed her eyes, shook her head. After a minute, she said, “Do you know how many death threats the president gets a day?”
He had no idea. “How many?”
“The last president received on average twenty-four credible threats a day. Linc Norman receives on average
one hundred
and twenty-four.”
“A day? That’s a lot of damn death threats.”
“Yes, just slightly over five an hour. I don’t know how he does it. Ignore them, I mean. I have one death threat to contend with and I’m a basket case.”
“The president has the Secret Service. You don’t.”
“I could have this whole thing wrong. Those numbers may not be coordinates. Tephra could be playing games with us.”
Tephra didn’t seem the type to play games. “But why?”
“That’s what all of this comes back to. Why. I’m hoping Senator Halston can answer that for us tonight.”
“About that. You really think the guy will cop to leaking information? You don’t have any proof and he’s not going to blow up his career and freely admit wrongdoing if you don’t.”
She dropped her head into her hands. “I have a plan.”
He waited for her to expound on the plan, and when she didn’t, he nudged her with his elbow. “What are you going to do?”
Her eyes cut to him, away. “Bluff.”
She might not be good at handling her liquor, but she was an ace at holding her cards close to her chest. “With what?”
Capturing one of the glasses, she twirled the stem between her fingers. “Fake evidence isn’t that hard to manufacture.” She took another sip of the Zinfandel she liked and eyed him over the rim.
“You’re going to falsify evidence?”
“Only in order to make him incriminate himself.”
This wasn’t the Bianca he’d grown up with. The one he’d married. This was the Bianca who lay in wait under the surface. The NSA agent and one person in the world willing to do anything in order to clear his name and give him his life back.
He loved her for that.
But it wasn’t going to work. “And if Halston sees through your bluff and still refuses to admit he leaked the intel?”
“Then like I told you and Emit at breakfast, I’ll hack into the NSA and finish my investigation on the senator and Killer Kathy. The problem is, that type of investigation could take days, weeks, even longer. I’m good, but I’m not that good. The NSA will figure out they’ve been hacked at some point and shut me down…even if I live that long.”
He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Not even myself
. “You’re in good hands with Emit and his crew.”
She set down the glass and turned her stool to face him. Leaned forward and put her lips to his cheek, laying a light kiss there. “I’m in better hands with you.”
Her lips grazed his jawline, traced their way down the side of his neck.
“Bianca…”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and slid halfway off the stool, pressing her breasts into his chest as she kissed his collarbone. Her hair tickled his nose. “We have a lot of time to fill until tonight,” she murmured against his chest.
True. And they were all alone, except for the bodyguards outside the door.
His cock twitched and his fingers wound around sections of her hair, gripping it and drawing her head back. She stared up at him with heat and lust in her eyes. He wanted her so bad it hurt.
But then an image of her terrified eyes from the previous night flashed through his mind. His stomach clenched.
She reached out and ran a finger over his lips. “Stop thinking.”
If only he could. He closed his eyes and leaned away from her touch, mentally cursing. He didn’t want to stop this, but he had to.
Her hand dropped to his belt, fingers working to undo the buckle. He grabbed it and held her by the wrist. Her pulse jumped under his thumb. Shifting them both, he pressed her gently against the bar. “We can’t do this.”
“The hell we can’t.”
“Bianca, I’m serious.”
Her eyes were clear and steady. Determined. “So am I. You’re my husband, and I love you, even if you love your career more. I’m not giving up on us.”
His throat tightened at her admission. “I’m dangerous.”
That sly grin slid across her face again. “Knew that when I married you.”
Damn this woman. “I pulled a gun on you last night.”
“You don’t cure PTSD, but you do learn to live with it. Plenty of people have. I know some experts who can help.”
He
would
get help. Anything to be with her again if she would take him back. “But right now, it’s not safe. You can’t be alone with me.”
“You mean like,
right now
right now? Because I don’t see you freaking out or being disoriented about where you are or what we’re doing. Nothing’s going to happen, Cal, except you and me enjoying each other for a little while.”