Her Spy to Hold (Spy Games Book 2) (17 page)

And with that, the mood of the evening was broken. Dr. Glasov emerged, tetchy and defensive.

“If you’re wondering if there’s a link between my father and the RBN, there isn’t. He always swore he came to Canada to be a Canadian. My mother wasn’t allowed to keep any Russian traditions for him. He speaks English as if he were born here. And since my mother’s illness he’s been focused on her one hundred percent. He doesn’t have time for espionage.”

“That wasn’t where I was going with the question,” Kale said, “but it’s useful information all the same, so thanks.” He cupped her cheek in his palm, running his thumb over her lips. “You don’t often engage in pillow talk, do you?”

She had her hand on his hip, idly drawing circles with the tip of her finger. “I had no idea there were rules. Since you’re the expert, why don’t you show me how it’s done? What was it like growing up in so many different countries?”

“I was always the new kid. I had my ass handed to me all over the Middle East before I learned how to take care of myself. That wore thin pretty quick too, so I learned how to make friends instead. After that it was fun.”

“I find it hard to believe there were that many boys willing to take on someone your size.”

“I wasn’t always this size.” And there was a distinct advantage in numbers. She didn’t need to know about that.

“What about your family? What are they like?”

“Besides my parents, I have three brothers. I’m the oldest by eight years. There’s a rumor I might have arrived seven or eight months shy of their first anniversary, but they aren’t sharing the wedding date so it remains unconfirmed. My youngest brother’s fifteen. He’s showing a lot of promise as a soccer player. The other two are in university. One’s in the UK, the other is in the United States. My dad’s still a diplomat. I think he’s in Greece right now. My mom keeps him tolerable. She follows him wherever he goes and loves being his social coordinator. My grandparents on his side live in a retirement village near Ottawa. They don’t travel much anymore. My mother’s mother lives in Fredericton. She’s a going concern, but refuses to leave New Brunswick.”

“Fredericton’s only a four hour drive from here. Have you been to visit your grandmother?”

She had no idea he was in Canada right now, so his visit wouldn’t be missed. He’d been meaning to make the time, but then he’d been asked to follow Irina.

“Would you like to go with me?” he heard himself ask, shocking the hell out of him.

She took her time answering, as usual. “I know we’re pretending to be a couple in public. But shouldn’t we try and keep things as professional as possible between us in our personal lives?”

Disappointment cut through his shock. He hadn’t expected her to say yes. They weren’t forming any long-term relationship. They both knew that was impossible. Keeping things professional, however? After tonight?

That was too far a stretch.

“I can see your point,” he said. “You’d meet my grandmother, then I’d have to meet your parents to level the playing field, and before you know it we’re sleeping together. We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“God forbid.” She snuggled against him, all smooth, naked skin and soft, kissable curves, sliding her knee between his thighs and tucking her head under his chin. She curled her arms between them so that both palms rested on his chest, then yawned. “I promise I won’t make a habit of sleeping in here, but I’m literally too tired to crawl out of bed.”

He had no problem with that. She was right where he wanted her. He drew the cotton sheet up around them and kissed the top of her head. Once he got into her bed—and he would—he’d use the same excuse to spend the night there.

“OK. But this means you’re cooking breakfast,” he said.

Chapter Ten

Sunlight poured across the bed in the spare room. The shower was running in the guest bathroom, but it was Kale’s cell phone vibrating on the bedside table that had awoken Irina. Someone was sending him a text message at 6:58 in the morning.

Her brain fully reengaged and heat scalded her body. Last night he hadn’t had to talk her into anything. She’d volunteered to do it all on her own. And she’d proved she was no Mother Teresa.

The cell phone fell silent. She heard the shower shut off and scrambled out of bed. That was her cue to leave. The last time she’d woken up without any clothes on she’d had to pretend to be comfortable walking around naked, but in reality, it was a whole lot easier to be cool and collected when fully dressed. She didn’t want him thinking she expected more from him than sex. She wasn’t going to be that woman—the one who didn’t know how to walk away when the fun times were over. She’d already used the lamest excuse possible to spend the whole night with him. Again. Where was her pride?

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, she was in front of the open fridge door in the kitchen wearing a bathrobe and slippers. He had on a pair of navy board shorts and, she suspected from the way they hung off his hips, nothing else. His skin was damp from the shower. He’d tied his wet hair in the usual knot. The way those blue eyes examined her, as if he were recalling in vivid detail every intimate thing that they’d done, sucked all the air from her lungs and had her heart attempting a jail break.

She’d never had sex on her kitchen counter. Broad daylight, however, made it much more difficult to suggest. There was a lot to be said for the cover of darkness.

“We’re having an omelet and fresh fruit for breakfast,” she announced. “Lunch will be soup and a salad. We can’t keep eating pizza.”

She caught a glimpse of those white teeth as he folded his arms across his bare chest and leaned against the island to watch her work. “If you’re trying to starve me, do your worst. I’ve gone for three days without eating real food before. I’ll survive your fresh fruit and salad.” He tugged at a lock of her hair. His tone changed, becoming more serious. “I’ve got a work-related thing to do in the city this morning. What’s on your agenda? Can I drop you off somewhere? Any friends you want to hang out with for a few hours? What about Bev?” He grinned. “She seems like fun.”

That must have been what the text was about. She appreciated his consideration for not wanting to leave her alone when he knew it still made her nervous, but he had a job to do and not everything about it involved her. Besides, sometimes it was difficult for her to work when he was around and he was a definite distraction today. Last night should have taken the edge off, but no. A few hours apart might be good for them both.

“Why don’t you drop me at my office?” she suggested. “I can work on the computer there until I get my laptop cleaned up.”

Humor licked at his lips. “Have you ever considered doing something more…recreational on a Saturday?”

The counter again came to mind. She took the carton of eggs from the fridge and got a glass mixing bowl from the cupboard under the island. “You’re working today too.”

“Not the whole day.” He reached for the cutting board and a knife, and picked up the cantaloupe she’d already set out. “I can survive your healthy breakfast, but how about we skip the soup and salad and I take you somewhere for a late lunch with more substance?”

She was so, so tempted. But she’d never embarked on a strictly sexual relationship before and didn’t know how these things worked. They were currently sharing a residence, complicating things further. Having him take her out for lunch, especially after last night, sounded too much like something real couples might do. This wasn’t her simply tagging along while he went surfing or climbing. Common sense whispered,
Say no
.

Kale’s gaze, locked on her face, never wavered. “You’re thinking too much again, Dr. Babe. I’ll make it easier for you. Here’s how things will be. I’m going to leave you at your office until twelve or twelve thirty. After that, we’re taking a drive to the Annapolis Valley. There’s a winery in Grand Pré with a restaurant attached to it that I’d like to check out. We’ll do a little sightseeing too. And in the meantime, if you want to think about anything other than work, you can think about tonight. I know that’s what’s going to be on my mind all day.” His eyes filled with a heat that made her toes curl inside her slippers. “Unfortunately, before any of that can happen, I have a meeting to get to.”

Against her better judgment, she heard herself agreeing. After all, what could it hurt?

* * *

“You might not want to open any emails from yourself,” Kale advised her as he stopped the car at the door of her office building.

He was kidding, but she’d already thought of that. She did send emails to herself at the office. She also notified the admin assistant if she was working out of the office and kept the department director apprised of her progress on any project deliverables. She sometimes had a junior staff member do research for her. Everyone got emails from her.

This was why cyber intrusions were so difficult to contain.

Kale waited until she was inside. She waved from the foyer, watching as he drove away. She then signed in with the commissionaire on duty and took the elevator to her floor.

The offices in her department were empty, which wasn’t unusual considering it was a Saturday. This morning, however, felt different, as if someone were staring over her shoulder, which was ridiculous. She’d worked after hours on plenty of occasions. No one could get in or out of the building without a security pass. The commissionaires patrolled the floors on a staggered schedule to avoid predictability.

The problem was that she didn’t have Kale here to make her feel safe and that was a problem she’d have to overcome. He wasn’t her bodyguard. He collected intelligence, and pop-ups and botnets simply weren’t worth his time. Only her professional reputation had kept CSIS interested this far. She suspected the same could be said about Kale’s personal interest in her. He liked getting dirty with prim and proper Dr. Glasov. She was a challenge he couldn’t resist. Eventually, though, the novelty would wear off. When it did, and CSIS’s interest in her situation was satisfied, he’d be gone.

She didn’t want to think about that.

Once she was inside her office with the door locked behind her she felt more at ease. She started her desktop computer and ran the antivirus program just to be safe. It appeared to be clean. Nothing lurked in her spam folder. She plugged in her thumb drive and ran a check on it too. So far so good.

She was engrossed in revising the paper she was presenting in Paris next month when the pop-up appeared, catching her completely off guard. It was a video, dark and grainy, and of such poor quality that it took a second for her preoccupied brain to process the images she was seeing. When it did there was no mistake. Although her face was a blur, it was definitely her. She was doing a striptease in front of her living room window with Kale on the sofa in the background behind her. His face, too, was obscured, but she knew every inch of those muscular legs. She had her thumbs under her bra straps, sliding first one, then the other, off her shoulders. The rest of the events unfolded much faster than she remembered, but it was all there—right down to her straddling Kale’s thighs with an enthusiasm that photographed well.

Blood rushed to her head, pounding so hard in her ears that her vision went black. She grabbed the edge of her desk with both hands, afraid of passing out. That pop-up had come in through the company’s intranet. She had no idea how far it might have already spread. Thank God the department was empty. If this had been Monday morning, there would be no hope of stopping it.

Forget about company rules regarding security and how to deal with Internet threats. She had to contain this.

* * *

By the time she finished, Irina was confused about some things but clearer on others. She cupped her forehead in her hands, her elbows on her desk, thinking it through. The pop-up was fairly basic and easily removed. It had come in through her intranet connection, the same as the others, and been targeted specifically at her. She could find no signs of it anywhere else. The big question remained—who would do such a thing? And why?

If the video had come from inside the department, then whoever had done this had to know there was nothing to gain by phishing. Classified information simply wouldn’t show up on non-dedicated computers. She had no access to it when she was working alone. She had to sign for the key to the room and it required one other signature, usually the production manager’s or that of the administrative assistant. That meant her after-hours work at the office mainly involved correspondence and research.

From the corner of her eye she caught sight of the time. It was 1:07. A quick check of the parking lot through her window showed that Kale was waiting for her, patient as always. She had no idea how long he’d been there. He had his feet on the dash and no doubt the radio cranked up full blast.

She backed up her files and ejected her thumb drive from her computer, then gathered her things. As she waited for the elevator the numbness and shock began to wear off. Logic returned. Someone was harassing her. Spying on her home. Invading her privacy. While she’d known that already the steadiness and angle of the image suggested the camera was mounted. She hadn’t suspected for a moment there might be a surveillance camera trained on her front window 24/7. She tried to imagine how Kale would react when she told him about it.

She went cold all over. How
would
he react?

Her light-headedness returned as she followed the train of events. The night the video was taken they’d had sex in her living room. He’d encouraged her not to be so uptight. He’d seemed fine when they woke up the next morning, if somewhat insultingly anxious to curtail any expectations on her part. It wasn’t until after he’d taken a walk around her property that things had become truly strained between them. She’d chalked it up to him being indiscreet and telling his boss about them, but now, she had to ask herself—what had precipitated that call to his handler in the first place? Why had he been told that sex with her was off limits? Why, last night, had he not wanted to have sex in the living room, but was OK with it up against the wall in the hallway?

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