Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) (5 page)

                                   
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Cole followed the path wherever it took
him. He felt a surge of freedom with each step he took farther away from the
mansion. He had actually looked forward to this assignment; viewed it as a perk
since he’d been working so hard over the past year. Being fairly young and
single, his boss had piled on the assignments and Cole had willingly complied.
Until his father’s recent health issues, Cole was free to accept any assignment
in any location on the planet. There was nothing holding him back. He viewed
this latest assignment as his boss’s way of saying, ‘Thanks for the hard work’.
Unfortunately, saddling him with
Agent Prickly
had negated those feelings of
reward. Instead, he felt like this was a weeklong sentence. Throw on the fact
that one of the staff members detested him already.
Him
. He wasn’t used to being judged so
harshly and dismissed like that. She’d really put him in his place. There had
to be more to her story, he was certain.

The sound of quickly
approaching footsteps made him stop and place a hand discretely on his
revolver. Turning, Cole saw Katrina appear in the dusk. He stood staring at
her, speechless. Should he prepare himself for another verbal lashing?

“Agent Nielsen, I’ve
come to apologize.”

Shocked, Cole’s face
broke into a wide grin he couldn’t control if he’d wanted to. “Thank you. And I
apologize too…again.”

An awkward silence hung
between them in the night air and Cole shifted his weight from one foot to the
other.

“May I walk with you?”
she asked, smiling.

Cole found it difficult
to hide his look of surprise and was thankful for the late evening’s fading
light. They both turned and walked casually side-by-side toward the cliff. They
stopped and leaned against the stone walled rail that overlooked the ocean.
Looking down toward the jagged rocks below, they silently watched the
thundering waves crash and retreat in a frothy aftermath. The moonlight
illuminated the white rushing water, making it look like it was dancing and
animated.

“This place is
mesmerizing. I’ve been to many tropical places, but his is top of the list. It
sure beats Manhattan’s summer smog,” Cole commented as he looked out at the
endless shimmering ocean.

Katrina snapped her head
toward him. “Manhattan? Is that where you’re from?”

“Yep, grew up there.
Have you been?”

“It just so happens that
I’ve lived in Manhattan for the past three years. Well, before coming here I
mean. I’m originally from Maine.”

“Really? Small world.
What brings you here?”

“Um,” she noticeably
hesitated, “it just seemed like a great opportunity, so I grabbed it.”

“Have you been working
here long?”
 
Cole tried to make his
question sound casual, less methodical and calculated, less
Secret Service
interrogation. He could sense her apprehension.

She slumped a bit and
crossed her arms. “No, not long.”

They stared ahead at the
water again in silent contemplation. Glancing over, he was again struck by her
overt beauty. The wind blew her dark hair around and it looked wild and
untamed. He wondered if it matched her personality – the real Katrina
that he was certain hadn’t been revealed to him just yet, the carefree woman
instead of the defensive, edgy
spitfire
. He yearned to find out.
 
The breeze grew cooler with the sun’s decent and Cole
noticed her bare arms react with goosebumps as she involuntarily shuddered.
“Here, take my jacket.” He slipped it from his arms before she could protest
and placed it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said
reluctantly.

She glanced over, sneaking a peak at the
handsome agent. Still amazed by his unexpected gesture, she thought perhaps
she’d misjudged him after all. He really was a gentleman. Inhaling, she
couldn’t help but smell the heady cologne at the collar of the suit jacket. The
smell was wonderfully intoxicating and Katrina inhaled deeper.

“So, you live in New
York then?” She noticed his bare fingers as they rested against the wall. No
ring.

“Yes, but I’m all over
the place depending on my assignments. I’m looking to stay in New York City or
Washington for a while though. My Dad’s not well. I want to be close to him.”

“Oh, is it serious?”
Katrina watched as Agent Nielsen’s face furrowed, the subject apparently
difficult.

“Actually, yes. It’s
Parkinson’s and my family has been watching it progress. My Mom is with him and
he’s still home, so that’s a good thing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.
You must be so worried about him.”

“I am. It’s very
difficult to have to watch it happen. He is…was…a very strong person
–physically and mentally tough. His very presence commanded admiration.
He’s still my biggest hero.” He looked down at the churning water again. His
mind was elsewhere for a moment, with his father in New York she assumed,
before he straightened. “So what brought you to New York from Maine then?”

Katrina didn’t blame him
for the subject change. “A job, like most people in New York.”

“Where’d you live?”

“Well, originally I
lived in a hovel above a Chinese take-out restaurant in the village, but that
only lasted a few months. Then I moved over to Tribeca.”

“Ah, Manhattan loft
living at it’s finest. I assume you didn’t squat like most Tribeca residents
back in the day?”

“Not exactly. And where
are you from?”

He cleared his throat.
“Um, Upper Yorkville.”
 
Katrina leaned away and gave him a
curious look. “Upper East Side, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What street?”

He visibly hesitated, as
if debating what to say. “Um, Park Avenue.”

“Hmmm, I get it, you’re
an uptown boy.”
 
Katrina looked
ahead and smirked. His response explained a lot. The groomed haircut, the
discipline, the preppy attire, he seemed professional, rigid. She’d assumed it
was just because of his job. Now she knew he was probably this way as a
toddler; his silver spoon leaving a rich taste in his mouth.

“Yep, uptown born and
bread,” he said, matter of fact, as if embracing his family’s position in life.

Katrina noticed that his
tone was relaxed, even humble. He seemed so self-assured, like a man who knew
exactly who he was and where he came from. She used to feel that way once, and
at the realization, a pang of jealousy struck her unexpectedly. “It’s funny, we
both come from New York’s intensity yet we seem so different.”

“Oh, how so?” he asked.

“Well, you seem quite
conservative. Maybe it’s your profession. I’m pretty relaxed and easygoing.”

He laughed out loud.
“Easygoing?”
 

Katrina shot him a look,
“Yes. What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, Miss...?”

“Turner.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Turner,
but you seem anything but easygoing. No offence.” He put his hands up in mock
surrender.

Katrina tensed at his
moonlit observation. “Well, maybe if we’d met under more relaxed circumstances
your opinion would be different. You’d be a little uptight too if some strange
guy was in your room.”

“Hell yeah! But, if a
strange and beautiful woman was in my room, that might be nice.” He looked at
her sideways and smiled.

Katrina chuckled,
noticing his dimple. “Men.”

“Seriously though, we
did clear the air about that, remember?”

“Moving on then. Please,
can you at least call me Katrina? Miss Turner sounds so…”

“So what? Preppy,
conservative – uptown?” he asked playfully.

She eyed him and smiled
again. Rather than answer, she asked her own question. “Are you hungry by any
chance?”

“Why, do you have a
secret stash of healthy snacks in your pocket?”

“No, but I’m on friendly
terms with the chef. We could raid the kitchen. And at this hour, I’m not
looking for anything healthy.”

Agent Nielsen looked at
his watch. “I have about half an hour before I switch with Agent Kensing. I’m
up for a fridge raid, sure.”

“Good. Follow me,
agent.”

Entering the side door, the house was
dark and quiet aside from the faint voices from the television floating down
the hallway. The boys had already gone to bed and Trudy and the Greenbaums had
turned in too.

“Secretary Mitchell is
in his study,” Cole whispered. “And my fellow agent is stationed near the front
door.”

“Must be either Damien
or Jacque watching TV then. We’ll have to tip-toe.” He watched her slip off her
sandals and lead the way. As she walked, she shimmied his jacket off her toned
shoulders and reached back to hand it to him. “Thanks for that. It was very
kind of you by the way.”

Cole nodded before she
looked ahead and crept farther down the hall. There was something kind of
intimate about sneaking around in the dark with her. It made him feel a little
guilty and unprofessional, but for some reason he let the moment carry him
away. He was so used to following rules, for once it was okay to just go with
it.

“I happen to know that
Jacque made extra crème brule this afternoon. My fingers are crossed.”

“Sounds good.”

The light from the
fridge illuminated the dark kitchen as Katrina reached in and grabbed two
ramekins from the back. “The spoons are in the drawer there,” she pointed. As
she closed the fridge, the kitchen fell into darkness once more. “We’d better
keep the lights off. Don’t want to draw attention. I don’t feel like sharing.”
She let a giggle escape and the sound was like music to his ears. He smiled,
though he knew she couldn’t see it in the darkness. Still, he couldn’t contain
it. What a turn of events this evening had taken. First they were at each
other’s throats, and now they were taking part in a stealth mission –
together. Funny how things turned out. With as little noise as possible they
pulled out the stools at the island and took a seat, feeling mischievous.

“Mmmm,” Cole moaned as
he took his first bite. Katrina echoed his sentiments. No words were necessary.
The confection was indescribably good. By the fourth bite, the kitchen lights
illuminated and they turned to find Jacque standing by the light-switch, his
arms crossed.

“Yes, my friends, you
are caught!” he grinned. “And? What do you think?”

“Beyond good, Jacque.”

“Very, very good.
Excellent actually,” Cole agreed.

“Alright then. But
please, include me next time. I’m starved!”

Chapter
Four

The alarm went at 5am sharp. An early
riser, Cole had his morning ritual that he’d kept consistent since his days on
the college rowing team at Harvard. This consistency offered a feeling of
personal control regardless of his location and it also kept his body in peak
physical condition.

Rising from the bed, he stretched both
arms up and yawned. Dropping to the floor, he spread his hands out
shoulder-width and began a lengthy series of push-ups. Next came the sit-ups.
This daily ritual helped to clear away any cobwebs on his mind and align his
focus for the day ahead. Discipline. That was his life’s path, and no amount of
distraction would interfere with that purpose. Aside from, perhaps, a cute
brunette with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen.

He rose from the floor, sweating now, and
slipped on a heather grey tee shirt and long black athletic shorts over his
boxers. He pulled on the short white socks and runners, lacing them up in the
darkness. He could do this in his sleep; in fact, some mornings he was
convinced he did. Walking over to the window, he drew back the curtains and
slid open the pane. The chorus of birds in the hedges and the sliver of rising
sun in the distant east enticed him to get outside. He found mornings to be the
most uplifting time of the day.

Silently creeping down the hall, he
brushed his teeth and ran cool water over his face. He found not having his own
bathroom awkward, but it was part of the job. The permanent staff had their own
en suites, but not the agents. They had to share. Cole spotted a second toothbrush,
deodorant, and Old Spice – evidence of Kensing.