Instead, Winter put his hand next to where hers rested against the sheets. His fingers brushed hers, just slightly. She echoed his movement, putting her own hand so that their fingers just barely overlapped, and gave in to this warmth, the pull of him that she couldn’t resist, the promise of something that could be magical, if only.
If only, if only.She felt his fingers move against hers, the gentlest of caresses, the kind of touch that passed between those who trusted each other the most—and wished with all her heart that she could just stay in this pocket of time.
Safe.Her mind buzzed, always alert for the danger in letting her guard down. She pulled her hand away, her breath shallow. It took everything in her to turn her face away from him.
He leaned away, too. The moment ended—his hand pulled away, and he straightened without a word in the bed, sitting on the edge with his arms propped up on either side. She stared at his smooth back, studied the contours of his muscles.
Then she rose, too, and began grabbing her clothes off the floor.
Neither uttered a word. There was simply nothing else to add.
We can’t.
The decision hung in the air, keeping them from leaning in again, from reaching for each other’s hands, from looking at each other.
They dressed in silence.
As Sydney passed him to head to the bathroom, she paused to look at him.
“Winter,” she began, then faltered.
He took a step toward her, wrapped an arm around the small of her back, and rested his forehead gently against hers. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. He was so warm.
“I know,” he murmured to her.
Then he stepped away without kissing her, and she continued on to the bathroom, and neither looked back at each other.
An hour before dawn, an alert came from Tems.
Minutes later, he was knocking on their door. When Sydney opened it, she saw him standing there, breathless, eyes narrowed. He rushed in past her.
“Three twenty,” he muttered.
Winter gave Sydney a questioning look.
“Someone’s on our tail,” she whispered to him. She turned to Tems. “Who is it?”
“Come with me,” he said. “Leave the keys. We’re not coming back.”
Sydney knew better than to question it. She and Winter followed Tems out into the hall, closing the door behind them with a soft click. Then they made their way down the corridor to a window that overlooked the front of the hotel.
They stayed in the hall’s shadows. Tems nodded down at the street.
At first glance, it was just another passerby, hurrying off to some early morning work at the markets—an older lady dressed in a linen shirt and traditional pants.
“Her?” she whispered.
“I saw her pass by fifteen minutes earlier,” he said grimly. “Could be state eyes, could be CIA. Could be a spy for Rosen’s killers.”
Sydney’s blood ran cold. It was something she always checked for when she was out in the field—if a passerby was really just a common pedestrian, she would never see them again. If there was a reappearance of a pedestrian, though—well. She was being followed.
Sydney looked away from the window and headed toward the stairwell.
“We need to go.Now.”
24Famous Enough to Hide
During the brief time of their training and partnership, Winter had learned this about Sydney—when she told him to do something without any explanation, he would do it without hesitation.
