Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3 by Ronie Kendig Page B

chin. “But I bounced back.” After years of heartache.
    “What was his name?” Kiew asked, her voice thick with understanding.
    “Trouble.”
    Kiew eyed her.
    They both burst into laughter, drawing more than a few looks from the other patrons. Kiew tucked her head, making Cassie laugh more. Finally she caught her breath, though she felt a snigger tugging at her. “What about you? What was his name?”
    “Me?” Kiew tried to look surprised.
    “Yes, I can tell—”
    “Miss Tang.”
    Kiew glared at the attendant, but then her gaze flicked to the side. Her normally pale face went white. She immediately set aside her napkin, lifted her small clutch from the floor, and stood. “If you will excuse me, Cassandra.”
    A northeasterly blast would’ve been warmer.
    Cassie searched for the source of her friend’s sudden change. Three men stood near the trickling fountain in the center of the room. One wearing a fierce expression and staring at Kiew. The man was none other than Daniel Jin.
    A man broke away from their group and started toward her. Dread spilling into her stomach, Cassie eased back, hiding behind the foliage, willing herself to vanish.
    “Miss Walker?”
    Cassie couldn’t move when she met the man’s gaze.
    “Please come with me.”
     

EAMON
    W hat do you call this again?”
    “
Qorma-e-Aloo Baloo
,” Eamon said as he finished the last of the dinner he’d prepared. “My mother loved it.”
    “She doesn’t anymore? Maybe you should stop cooking it then.”
    Removing his plate to the sink gave him the chance to hide the pain of her teasing. “She died. Four years ago.”
    “Oh.” When he turned around, Brie sat with her head bowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
    “No worries.” He scrubbed the plate and dried it off then set it in the cabinet with the other furnished dishes. “I know you meant no harm.”
    She was at his side, a little of her serving still on the china. “Really, I’m sorry. My mom was a champion—raising five kids and homeschooling them.”
    Eamon took her dish and cleaned it, too.
    Palms on the counter behind her, she pressed her back against it. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
    “No,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Mom always thought I was enough to handle.”
    “Is she the one who taught you to clean up? You’re like a househusband or something.”
    “My first flatmate was a slob. Disgusting habits. Drove me mad with the bugs it drew.”
    Brie stared at him as she stood there. He wiped the towel around the sink, hoping she’d break the silence. But she simply stared.
    Eamon shifted toward her, a hand propped on the counter. He peered down into her blue eyes. “Do I have something between my teeth?”
    Brie didn’t look away. “No. You just look… different without your beard.”
    He dragged his fingers over his jawline. “Feels naked.”
    “It looks good.”
    Words like that, simple phrases, could be innocent. Or they could have hidden meaning. He was sick of trying to figure out clues. “Okay.” He tossed down the towel. Planted his hands on either side of her and leaned in.
    Surprise and something else slid into her expression as she eased back slightly.
    “I’m not going to play games. Life is too short and I’m getting old. You intrigue me, Brie Hastings. Your character and professionalism speak loudly. You’re beautiful and fascinating. I want to know if you feel the same way.”
    She hesitated, her gaze evading his until she finally ducked under his arm and moved to the table. “I really don’t think this conversation is appropriate.”
    Eamon faced her, hands on his belt.
“Inappropriate?”
    “Yes,” she said, nodding to the room around them. “We are on assignment.”
    “So?” If it weren’t for the assignment, for the times they were put together on missions, he wouldn’t have met her.
    “And we’re… alone.”
    Eamon drew up, affronted by her insinuation. She thought he’d take advantage of her while they were