She flipped the fur-trimmed hood of her jacket up over her cap to further warm her head and ears. Her duck boots provided a good bit of protection but wouldn’t keep her feet warm long-term in these conditions. Already, she could feel the cold creeping over her toes.
She rounded a bend and three distant figures came into view standing next to a black Ford Bronco and a Suburban.
The creek Gemma had heard earlier made its appearance in the meadow, running parallel to her as she walked. Ice clung thick to its sides, but a lifeblood of moving water flowed down its center over smooth, brown rocks.
“Good afternoon,” Gemma called breathlessly as she approached. She would not apologize for being late because she was not late. She was precisely on time.
A middle-aged woman and a man in his fifties waited for her wearing work attire and more formal coats than the one she wore. Jude, too, was dressed professionally in a gorgeous black wool coat over a suit. Her eyes met his and an unexpected jolt went through her. Maybe because, for the past four nights, she'd had his voice in her ear? That was probably the reason. It had been a week since she'd seen him in person. She'd grown accustomed to talking to him on the phone and had gotten to know him much better that way. But now she felt oddly unaccustomed to being face-to-face with him.
“I drive a scooter.” She came to a halt before them. “I left it behind a little way back since it’s not designed for off-roading.” She didn't want them to think her eccentric enough to have walked here all the way from Bayview.
“Gemma,” Jude said, “I’d like you to meet Shannon Bailey, case agent for our operation. And Dixon Martin, Supervisory Special Agent.”
She exchanged “nice to meet yous” and handshakes with them.
“Thank you,” Dixon said, “for your involvement in our operation.”
“You're welcome.”
Shannon's face was round, unembellished, no-nonsense. Dixon's face was aging, endearing, wise. Jude's—serious, thoughtful, dignified. The wintry weather had coaxed color to his cheekbones.
“This mission is important to us,” Dixon told her. “We'll be working hard to ensure its success and we're here to support you in any way we can.”
In the presence of these two strangers, she felt the connection between herself and Jude strongly, as if they were linked by a glowing red thread. She was far more aware of him than Dixon and Shannon, even though she wasn't looking at Jude. It didn't matter. She couldfeelhim there.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Shannon asked.
Jude had answered all of her questions thoroughly. But since he'd given her a heads-up that Dixon and Shannon would be open to questions, she'd come with a few for them. “What will happen if our cover is blown while we're meeting with Cedric?”
“We'll have four to five friendlies nearby—inside and outside the restaurant,” Shannon said. “If your cover is blown, we'll be listening, so we'll know. And we'll act accordingly.”
Yikes. Four or five agents on site and Shannon listening. Quite an audience.
“Cedric doesn't go anywhere without his henchman, Vincent,” Gemma said. “And frankly, Vincent's scary. Just so you're aware, he'll no doubt have a weapon on him. What happens if things turn violent before the friendlies can intervene?”
“I’ll protect you with my life,” Jude said.
His simple words packed a powerful punch, momentarily stealing the air from her lungs.
“Violent situations resulting from a blown cover are very rare,” Dixon told her.
“Also,” Shannon said, “you and Cedric are cousins and he views you as a friend. Should Cedric and Vincent discover Jude's affiliation with the FBI, you will claim that you had no idea. We do not expect that Cedric will allow you to be injured.”
“And Jude? Will Cedric allow him to be injured, do you think?”
“We can't predict the future,” Shannon answered. “Our agents understand the risks and have been trained to manage them.”
For the first time, she felt the weight of what Jude was risking to do this. And just how much his risk depended on her capability. She glanced at him.
No doubt any kind of backdrop would complement Jude’s eyes. Spring flowers. Summer skies. Autumn foliage. But something about the snowy backdrop of today suited his green eyes, reminding her of pale emeralds on a bed of white velvet.
Her body responded with a thrum of heat.
Oh, no no no. She was accustomed to listening to her body and following its lead. Often, the body was smarter than the brain. Just . . . not this time. Why had physical attraction to him come online now? At the worst possible time? In front of his bosses!
She had a boyfriend. Also, she was good at gauging people, and she knew Jude wasn't interested in her inthat way. He was as capable as a person could be, and more uptight than a White House press secretary. He'd said he'd protect her with his life. But not because he had a crush on her. Because it was his job to say that. To do that.
She did not want him injured. And she definitely didnotwant to have any hormones for him.
