The Georgia heat slapped him in the face, momentarily taking his breath away. The change from the biting cold in Chicago was disorienting. Like the diner, the gravel lot was mostly empty. A few cars clustered around the far corner of the restaurant, where someone sold ice cream from an open window. Several people, mostly women, stood in line with children in tow. No one paid any attention to him. He’d come all this way for nothing.

As he walked to his car, he glanced into the small grassy lot on the far side of the building. A brunette in a floral sundress and strappy sandals sat under a tree at a picnic bench, an ice-cream cone in her hand. She smiled at him, holding his gaze for just a second longer than was typical for a lone woman who wasn’t a working girl. Hooker walked over.

“Good day for ice cream,” he said.

“They make the best vanilla bean around here. You should try it.”

“Maybe I will. I haven’t had an ice-cream cone in a long time.” She was early thirties, eyes as black as her hair, small and pretty. Built too. No wedding ring. In fact, no distinguishing anything—no jewelry, no flash. Attractive, but not someone who would draw attention.

“Probably too cold up north for ice cream,” she remarked, catching a line of vanilla dripping down the side of the cone.

The quick flick of her tongue caught him by surprise and his cock got hard. He shifted slightly to hide the fullness in his trousers. “You got that right. I guess this doesn’t feel hot to you, though, does it?”

“No—this is the best weather of the year.” She smiled. “Sit down, unless there’s somewhere you have to be in a hurry.”

“Not really.”

“Just get in?”

“That’s right.”

“Here on business?”

He nodded.

“What is it that you do?”

“I buy and sell things,” he said.

“I imagine you find all sorts of interesting things.”

“You never know what you might come across.”

“You’re right. Sometimes things turn up you never expect.” She bit into the cone and a fleck lingered on her lip.

He had the urge to suck it off. He spread his legs a little wider to give himself a little relief. Something about this woman had him juiced up, and that was unusual. He had no trouble enjoying himself with a woman when he wanted, but when he was on the job, he rarely got distracted. “I’m always on the lookout for unusual items.”

“I might have something you’re interested in. If you’re looking for one-of-a-kind items.”

“Really? Rare items are at the top of my list.”

“Those things tend to be expensive, though.”

“I never mind paying what something’s worth.”

“And then there’s transportation, the authentication, all of those things figure in, don’t they?” She crossed her legs, her sandal dangling from her toes. “What would you pay for something no one else could find, delivered in perfect condition? Something rare, unusual.”

“Fully functional, one-of-a-kind?” Hooker leaned his arms back on the table and crossed his ankles, taking in the vehicles parked in the lot. None were close enough for audible scanning, and he didn’t think their conversation could be picked up from the building. If she was wearing a wire, it was well hidden. Her clothes were tight enough that hiding the receiver would be difficult. Nothing he’d said could be incriminating, but he still needed to be careful. “I’m used to paying for the right product. Half a million isn’t out of range.”

She took another bite of her ice-cream cone. “Two.”

“The item would have to be extraordinarily rare, in perfect condition, and, in order to avoid the competition trying to duplicate it, completely untraceable.”

“Guaranteed.”

“Then I think we can do business.”

She smiled, her gaze slowly moving over his chest and down his body. He couldn’t hide his erection and didn’t bother.

“Now that I’ve had dessert,” she said, “I’m ready for dinner. How about you?”

“My evening is free.”

“Not anymore.”

Chapter Sixteen

The phone rang at 0530 and Wes grabbed it before the second ring. “Hello?”

“We’ll pick you up in half an hour,” Evyn said. “Pack a go bag and wear field clothes.”

“What would that be when I’m not wearing a uniform?”

Evyn laughed. “How about jeans and a shirt? And a light jacket. Oh—and pack for overnight.”

“Doable. Anything else I should know?”

“Now, Doc,” Evyn said, a teasing note in her voice. “Haven’t you figured out the routine yet?”

“I’m ever hopeful.”

“Good attitude. See you in thirty.”

Evyn rang off and Wes hung up the phone. She’d been up for an hour, reading through some of the WHMU protocols she’d downloaded to a thumb drive and brought back to the hotel with her. She’d worked all evening and finally turned in at 0200—and couldn’t sleep. She didn’t usually have trouble sleeping, but she’d lain awake in the dark feeling a little like a fish out of water. The entire fabric of her professional life—which was her life—had shifted precipitously. She was still a doctor, still a naval officer, but she had been transported out of the highly structured world of military hierarchy into what felt like a new society where the rules weren’t clear and no one was filling her in. To dispel the undercurrent of anxiety, she fell back on what she knew best—discipline, order, and medicine.

As she’d mentally run down the things she wanted to do to fine-tune the medical unit, her thoughts kept wandering off to Evyn. Snippets of their first encounter, their first meal, their first fight, their first touch kept jumping into her mind. Flashes of Evyn’s faintly teasing smile, the challenge in her deep blue eyes, her certainty about her job—everything about her stirred her. Spending time with Evyn had been easy, natural. Exciting. And considering their positions and the specter of a security breach hanging over every member of the team, including Evyn, very ill-advised. No matter she couldn’t imagine Evyn violating her oath, she needed to keep perspective, and the only way she could do that was by maintaining professional distance.

Finally, to distract herself from thoughts of Evyn and a disquieting buzz in her belly, she’d texted her youngest sister Denny, a night nursing supervisor at Methodist Hospital, who was usually able to chat when her patients were all asleep.

Hey, you busy?

Got a minute. Why are you awake so late?

New post. Can’t shut off my head.

Not like you. Something wrong?

Nah. Not really. How’s everyone?

We’re good. Miss you. You’re going to make it home for Christmas?

not looking good miss you too

will mail leftovers :-)

can’t wait :-)

Gotta go. Call—call me. Don’t stress. Love you.

Her sister had provided enough diversion that she’d been able to fall asleep. But as she rode the elevator down to the lobby, her thoughts returned to Evyn. She looked forward to seeing her. Spending time with Evyn was exhilarating—in one moment Evyn was a highly trained professional, demanding and a little arrogant, in the next personable, funny, a little flirtatious. Wes never knew what to expect, and she always knew what to expect. She planned everything and lived by her plans. She’d just discovered uncertainty was damned exciting.

Right now, though, she’d settle for boring routine over a new test of her fitness for her post, but what she’d like and what she got were often different. She pushed through the revolving door and stepped out onto the sidewalk at precisely 0600. Ten seconds later, a black SUV pulled up and the rear door swung open. Wes walked over and saw Evyn in the back beside Gary. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Evyn said.

“Hi, Doc,” Gary echoed.

Wes settled down across from Evyn and the vehicle pulled away.

Evyn pointed to the newspaper in her lap. “Want a section?”

Wes smiled and slid an e-reader from her pocket. “I took your advice and picked this up yesterday at one of the bookstores.”

“Smart.”

“What? Taking your advice or getting the reader?”

Evyn laughed. “Both.”

Gary’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, a glint of curiosity in his warm brown eyes. Wes opened the reader and selected the Washington Post app she’d downloaded the evening before. Skimming through the sections with a flick of her fingertip, she asked, “Where we going?”

“Kitty Hawk, North Carolina,” Evyn replied, surprising Wes with an answer.

“That’s a long ride.” Wes tried to remember what was in Kitty Hawk besides a nearby Coast Guard station.

“We’re not driving the entire way.” Evyn folded the newspaper vertically, as if she was going to read it in sections like a subway rider.

“What’s in Kitty Hawk?” Wes asked.

“Ocean,” Evyn said.

Gary laughed.

“I didn’t bring a suit.”

“That’s okay. The water’s pretty warm this time of year.”

“It’s December,” Wes pointed out.

“Believe it or not, water temperatures average over sixty degrees in December in that area. Something about the Gulf Stream.” Evyn looked up from her newspaper, her eyes dancing. “You’re a sailor. You’re not afraid of a little water, are you?”

“Just because I’m in the navy doesn’t mean I enjoy being cold and wet.”

“I promise we won’t let you drown, or freeze.”

“I feel so much better. What are we doing?”

“Water block.” Evyn went back to her newspaper.

“I gathered it had something to do with water. I don’t suppose you could be any more specific?”

Evyn smiled above the newspaper. She was enjoying this, the power play, and Wes was too, even though Evyn wasn’t playing by the rules Wes was used to. She followed the commands of others and expected her own orders to be obeyed without question. She understood and accepted the reasons why. The military was a huge organization whose effectiveness was dependent upon coordinated action and instantaneous response, a hierarchy that could only function if orders were immutable. Otherwise, chaos reigned, missions failed, and causalities resulted. Part of what made the system work was accurate intel and preparedness.