Her Spy to Hold (Spy Games Book 2) (9 page)

“If that’s your idea of entertainment,” he said, “then you don’t get to pick out the movie tonight.”

He carried the board to the water’s edge where he straightened the cords on the kite before wading in. It took him an embarrassing number of tries to get it into the air. He needed to concentrate on what he was doing and not let his attention keep wandering to the confusing woman watching him from the beach.

Once he had the kite up and was out on the water the rest of the world slipped away. A storm had been blowing out in the Atlantic Ocean last night, and today, the waves crashing against the shoreline were unusually high. He loved the sensation of flying as his board shot off the crests.

He had to change directions to get out of the path of another surfer who was headed straight for him and he made a hard landing. His foot slipped off the board, sending him sliding into the water. A wave washed over his head, pushing him down. He bobbed to the surface a few yards from his board, sputtering water and shaking his hair out of his eyes. The kite dipped and danced in the sky. It hadn’t yet fallen but was on its way down. He shot a glance toward Irina’s distant form on the beach, wondering if she’d seen him go under and if she was worried.

She was no longer alone. A man in a bright neon orange-and-blue wetsuit was walking from the path that led to the parking lot and down the beach toward her. A surfboard had been jammed upright in the sand at the foot of the path. She didn’t lift her head from her magazine. So far, she was oblivious.

Kale was too far from the beach, and the water too rough, for him to get a good idea of what was going on, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it. While a great deal of his objection was territorial—she was a beautiful woman, after all, and he was a typical man—being approached by a stranger would unsettle her. She counted on him for protection. And he wasn’t where he should be.

He scrambled back on his board and set out for shore, zigzagging into the wind. Another one of the surfers who’d been in the water was also on the beach now, but he was packing up his kite and had his back to Irina and the newcomer. Kale jumped off his board and waded out of the water, tugging on the cords and bringing his kite in too. He dropped everything in the wet sand and walked toward Irina and her companion.

The stranger was speaking to her. She tipped her head to the side, her expression warily polite. Then she smiled at him, looking pretty and sweet. She held up the magazine for the stranger’s inspection. Jealousy swirled in Kale’s stomach. That was the same pick-up he’d chosen to explain how he and Irina had met.

This guy was so unoriginal.

But something about him seemed familiar. As Kale got closer, he understood why. It was Extreme Sports Guy, the investment banker he’d been tailing for weeks. What were the chances?

Pretty good, all things considered.

And he should have considered them. Starting a new assignment back to back in the same area as the last one hadn’t been a smart move on his part. Bringing Irina to the beach with him was even less so. There were only so many beaches for surfing this close to the city and Lawrencetown was the best.

Extreme Sports Guy looked his way when he realized someone was approaching. Kale saw the exact instant of recognition. The banker shot a glance between him and Irina. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Well, well. Isn’t this a surprise?” he said to Kale. “No deliveries today?”

Fury prickled the backs of Kale’s eyes. The bastard would have been warned about him, and the shit-eating, arrogant grin said he’d been told not to worry.

They’d see about that. He reached for his jeans, neatly folded on one of the black rocks, and dug the keys from his pocket. He tossed them to Irina. “Go wait in the car. Lock the doors. I’ll be along as soon as I pack up my board.”

One of the things he appreciated about her was that she was smart enough to know when not to argue. With a worried, fleeting look at him over her shoulder, she silently gathered her things and did as she was told. He watched her walk across the sand, the canvas bag in her hand, hips gently swaying, the wind snagging her sweater and hair. Once she was out of earshot, he turned back to the banker, who was watching her too.

“Isn’t she just the prettiest little thing?” the banker remarked.

Kale’s fury eased, shifting to a cold, icy control. He had at least five inches on the other man and a good thirty pounds. Wrestling had been his varsity sport. He’d had defensive training for work. As a kid, he’d loved to fight.

He let that same gleam shine from his eyes as he replied. “You like to play dangerous sports. Hang out with dangerous people. Let’s see how tough you really are. If anything happens to her—so much as a ding in the fender of her car—you’ll be the first person I come after. And you’re stupid easy to find. You think about that before you go mentioning anything about her to any of your friends.”

“Hey.” The banker put his hands in the air, backing up a few steps. “There’s nothing to talk about. I saw a pretty woman sitting alone and figured she was here to hook up with surfers. You can’t blame me for trying. How was I supposed to know someone was already nailing her?” He couldn’t seem to resist getting in another dig. “Who’d have guessed a smart, pretty woman like that would do a delivery boy?”

If Extreme Sports Guy had any inkling he was messing with CSIS he’d be far less cocky than this. He and his friends all likely assumed Kale was undercover RCMP. The guy had such an ugly surprise in store for him. If he went near Irina again, he’d have an uglier one still. Kale meant every word he’d said. He had connections too. CSIS protected its own. Unofficially, of course.

But this was the first time Kale had ever needed those kinds of connections and he resented the taste it left in his mouth. He knew how to keep his cool better than this.

“Enjoy your surfing,” he said. “The conditions are great.”

It took him more time than he liked to gather up his gear and get it all to the parking lot, where Irina had done as he’d told her to and was waiting for him with the car doors locked.

“What was that all about?” she asked when he slid into the driver’s seat beside her.

She turned so she faced him, bringing her knee close to his thigh. The inside of the car was warm, but thanks to the cool ocean air, not overly so. She’d cracked the windows a notch and tossed her sweater into the backseat. She wore a white tank top over the navy shorts.

Pretty and practical. Not much wonder she’d caught the banker’s interest.

She certainly had his.

As he looked through the rear window so he could back out of the parking space, he edged his leg toward hers so that they were touching. “It had nothing to do with you. A loose end from another project. An unfortunate coincidence. I suggested he try online dating though, because picking up women on beaches might prove hazardous to his health.”

She had such an expressive face. It was plain she had no idea how to take his comment—if she should be flattered or afraid, or if it really did have nothing to do with her.

“Don’t tell me he was responsible for your black eye,” she said.

Her ability to put things together never ceased to amaze him. He’d almost forgotten about it. The bruising had already faded to a faint yellow. “That little sissy? Please. Give me some credit.”

She didn’t laugh, or even crack a smile for that matter. “He seemed perfectly normal.”

“I’m sure he is.” They were on the highway by now, driving the short distance to the surf shop so Kale could return the rented equipment. He let out a sigh. “They always are. There’s just no way of telling what drives ordinary people to do things, Irina. There are usually a number of reasons, although in my line of work, ninety-nine percent of the time the biggest motivation is money.”

“And the other one percent?”

“Ego and ideology. Usually a combination of both.” Those were next to impossible to fight. All anyone could do was try to contain them and keep them from spreading.

She arched a brow. “Are those percentages quantified statistics backed up by analysis?”

“More like the qualified results of field observations conducted by an expert,” he said. “And equally valid for statistical purposes.”

He pulled into the surf shop’s tiny parking lot. Gravel crunched under the tires. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Not with Irina. He didn’t like his world touching hers. She was still frowning, concern in her eyes, and he didn’t like that either.

“Why Arabic and Urdu?” she asked.

The question, coming so out of the blue, was unexpected. The answer, however, was simple enough. “My dad’s a diplomat. We traveled a lot while I was growing up, mostly in the Middle East. In university, here in Canada, I had a lot of Arabic friends. I got their culture and they wanted to learn about mine. It was a simple progression.”

He shut off the engine and got out of the car, then leaned back inside. “Today’s our day off, Dr. Babe. No more talk about work. Put some thought into what kind of movie you’d like to watch tonight. For what it’s worth, my preference is musicals. If it’s a zombie musical, you get extra points.”

Amusement edged out the concern. “I don’t think we could possibly be more different.”

And that, Kale thought as he unstrapped the rented gear from the roof of the car, was what he’d best keep in mind.

Chapter Six

He was the son of a diplomat. Yet another piece in the fascinatingly complex Kale Martin puzzle.

When he’d spoken to the stranger on the beach he’d morphed into a completely different person from the affable one she was slowly beginning to know. The harsh expression on his face—the ice in his eyes—had shaken her. She’d had no trouble envisioning that Kale Martin tracking terrorists in the back alleys of overcrowded third world cities.

But the realization that she’d seen nothing wrong with the man who’d approached her on a public beach and inquired about her reading material shook her far more. He’d actually quoted a recent article, establishing a rapport with her, and she’d fallen for it. In light of recent events, she would have thought she’d be more street smart than that. Now she got why women went missing every day and how innocent children could be lured away by strangers.

She could also see why Kale was so suspicious of her coworkers. She’d lose her faith in humanity too, if she lived in his world.

She wanted no part of it.

Which meant she was having second thoughts about the expectations she’d raised that morning.

Common sense said to slow down. They’d only met a few days ago.

Unfortunately, the pesky pheromones in the close confines of the car on the drive home were affecting her ability to reason. They shouted that a few days were plenty when all anyone wanted was sex. He wasn’t going to be around forever and she had nothing to lose.

She needed some distance. Some room to think.

It was time for supper when they arrived back at her house.

While Kale ordered a pizza, she got out her laptop. He might be able to take an entire day off, but she had that panel in Paris to prepare for and other people’s schedules and time zones to factor in. Putting off having to deal with the impending evening was an added incentive for work.

She set the laptop on the table and turned it on. She frowned. It was running slower than normal. She opened her email program, scanned the contents, and found a security alert from the tech department at her office. That was unusual too. They had no reason to send an alert to her private account.

“What’s up with the scowl?” Kale flicked off his phone and moved around behind her, peering over her shoulder and scattering her thoughts.

“This.”

She indicated the email, trying her best to ignore the hand he placed on the back of her chair and the cheek that was too close to hers as he bent forward to read it. She right-clicked on the header, wanting to check the sender’s Internet Protocol address, and discovered it was set to private. That meant the email hadn’t come from her office.

“I’m being spammed. Give me a few minutes,” she added, her fingers already flying across the keyboard. “I want to find out where this is really from.” It took her longer than she’d expected to track it. When she did, she found not one IP address, but a string of them, all linked together. “Damn.”

“I take it something’s wrong?”

She’d forgotten all about Kale. He was still standing behind her, looking over her shoulder.

“I’ve picked up a botnet,” she said.

“What’s a botnet?”

“It’s a web robot—a computer, or in this case a number of computers, that have been taken over by hackers.” She kept her explanation simple. “Messages are sent out and received through the network the botnet creates. It’s likely gathering personal information from my laptop and relaying it back to the hackers through a string of IP addresses.” She sighed, annoyed. “Everyone in my email list is probably infected now too.”

“Don’t you have firewall protection?”

“Of course I do. I’ve even installed one I wrote myself. But any program can be compromised if you know what you’re doing. Hackers are tech savvy and government websites are favorite targets for them. My guess is that I picked up this botnet when I was doing some online research.”