Free Queens Ransom (Sofie Metropolis) by Tori Carrington Page A

CIS agent,’ I said.
    He was watching me curiously. I couldn’t help wondering what he’d seen on my face during my mental journey to lovers past.
    He said, ‘Yep. Didn’t have to do any digging for that.’
    ‘How long?’
    ‘Five months.’
    I smiled. ‘I knew it.’
    ‘Knew what?’
    ‘That this job wasn’t your first choice.’
    ‘Oh? If you thought that, then you must have tagged me for something else. What might that be?’
    I ran my fingertip along the rim of my frappé then dipped it inside, scooping out a bit of the froth, and sucking on it. It didn’t occur to me how sensual the move might be interpreted until I watched David’s eyes darken as they focused on my mouth.
    I picked up a napkin, wiped my lips and my finger, nearly apologizing.
    So much for cooling things down.
    ‘Um . . . I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Thought maybe something on Wall Street.’
    ‘Close. Fleet Street.’
    ‘As in London?’
    He grinned. ‘As in London.’
    Impressive.
    ‘What brought you back here?’
    ‘Family.’
    I gave a silent shrug. OK, this was the part where he was going to tell me he married the head cheerleader and they had three kids all under the age of five.
    ‘My mother had a stroke.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’
    The information was so different from what I expected, I was knocked off guard. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if something like that had happened to my mother.
    I looked to find my hand was covering his on the table.
    He easily slid his to rest on top of mine instead. So big. So warm.
    I withdrew my hand.
    ‘Thankfully it was a mild one. But it was enough to remind me what’s important.’ He picked up his coffee cup. ‘Besides, by that point even Fleet Street had landed in the crapper.’
    I laughed. A genuine, open one I didn’t recognize. Mostly because I couldn’t recall the last time I used it.
    Wait. Yes, I did. Back the last time I dated. Back when I’d met my no-good almost-groom, Thomas Chalikis.
    The idea was enough to send me into dating shock just as our food arrived.
    I’d ordered a heaping piece of moussaka and now stared at it feeling like I couldn’t take a single bite of the eggplant and ground beef casserole. And it was one of my favorites.
    ‘These do look great,’ David said.
    I blinked to find his chops did, indeed, look good.
    And so did he.
    ‘So,’ I began, forcing myself to pick up my fork. ‘What did you find out on Dino’s case?’
    Peripherally I noticed his movements slow momentarily, as if he, too, had forgotten the reason we were there.
    ‘I’m not entirely clear on why, but it seems Mr Antonopoulos landed high on the suspected terrorist list.’
    If it weren’t bad enough I couldn’t taste the moussaka, now I couldn’t swallow it either.
    I coughed and spat the mouthful into my napkin as delicately as possible. Which was probably indelicately.
    ‘What?’
    He nodded. ‘Yeah. That’s what I said.’ He took a bite of chop, and his expression reflected he found it good, but I was glad he didn’t say anything. ‘I don’t have access to a lot of the information since most of it came from Homeland Security and is deemed top secret, but there’s no doubting that’s why he was sent back.’
    ‘Dino’s not a terrorist. He’s not even Arab.’
    I realized how dumb the comment was the instant the words were out of my mouth.
    ‘God, I’m sorry. That was so stupid.’
    He smiled. ‘No worries. I probably might have made the same statement myself if our roles were reversed.’
    I sipped water. ‘No, you wouldn’t.’
    ‘You’re right. I wouldn’t.’
    I toyed with my food, then gave up and put my fork down. ‘So what do I have to do to get him off the list and back here?’
    He went momentarily silent as if processing my question and perhaps even my motivation for asking it.
    Then finally he said, ‘I’m unclear on that. I explained I was new, right? But I have feelers out. I’m waiting for Homeland Security to get back to me this