Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) by Stella Kelly Page B

ladies ‘ouued’ and ‘ahhed’. “I had
to get something. I couldn’t walk away from my time here with nothing.” He
grinned, feeling a little awkward but part of the group none-the-less. Katrina
held his gaze a little longer than the other two, sipping her coffee slowly.
Cole would rather leave Bermuda with Katrina on his arm instead, but he knew
that was a fantasy.  
    “I love that dress you
bought, Trudy. It’s a great color for your skin tones.”
    “Thanks, Helene.”
    The other two ladies
broke into a discussion about hair color and which salons they use back in
Washington. Cole seized his moment of privacy with Katrina and leaned in. “You
know, they say that hotel over there was an intelligence headquarters for
Secret Service agents during the Second World War,” he pointed.
    “You mean the Fairmont?”
Katrina asked. “Yes, I’ve actually heard that. But,” she added, leaning in even
closer, “did you know that the real life Commander Bond once lived there
temporarily? As in the character that Ian Fleming based his rogue 007 Agent
on?”
    “Now that I didn’t know.
Very interesting.” Cole studied her, impressed. Helene and Trudy watched as
Cole and Katrina began a slew of interesting fact exchanges and commentary
about this and that. The two ladies looked at each other with a knowing
expression. The chemistry between the Pilates instructor and the Secret Service
agent was undeniable. Eventually looking up toward the other two women, Cole
realized how he and Katrina had monopolized the conversation. He cleared his
throat and took a sip of his coffee, allowing a lull.

 
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    “Are you going back for those shoes,
Katrina? You should. You’ll kick yourself if you don’t. But I guess you can
come back any time,” Trudy asked.
    “You know, I think I just might.” Katrina
finished the last drop of her latte and rose from the table. Cole rose too, a
polite gesture that the ladies noticed and smiled at. Katrina bit her bottom
lip and suppressed a slight giggle. “Thank you, Agent Nielsen.”
    “Will you be okay going
alone?” he inquired.
    Helene and Trudy glanced
at each other sideways.
    “Um, I think I’ll
survive. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    Weaving her way through
the crowd toward Reid Street, Katrina stopped for the red light. Waiting at the
corner, she gawked around at the shops on the opposite side of the street,
biding her time. Looking to the right of the intersection, her eyes locked onto
a man standing on the opposite sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, feet
shoulder-width apart. He stood staring – at her. He had sandy hair and
his mouth was in a straight, sinister smile. A feeling of sheer dread
overpowered Katrina. The light turned green and people streamed past her, yet
she remained planted on the spot, unable to move. A second later, a large
delivery truck blocked her view of him. When it finally passed by, the man was
gone. Katrina strained to get a better look, her heart palpitating at
break-neck speed. Was her mind playing some cruel, sadistic trick or had her ex
really been there, sizing her up form across the street? Feeling her breath
catch and hyperventilation creeping in, she turned and ran back to the café.
    “That was fast,” Helene
said. “Where’s the bag?”
    “Did someone already buy
them?” Trudy asked with disappointment.
    “Yes,” Katrina managed
to grunt a one-syllable answer through her shock.
    Cole watched Katrina as
she slid into her chair again. It didn’t take a genius to see that something
had shaken her, and she knew he could tell right away. Glancing at the others,
she realized they were none the wiser to her stress and she was grateful.
    “We’d better get going now,”
Katrina announced.
    “Yes, the boys should be
getting back from the museum. I hope your fellow agent had a nice time.” Helene
half joked to Cole. “Something tells me he’s a