Free Secret Agent Minister by Lenora Worth Page B

quartet centered on one of the long verandas.
    Lydia tried to concentrate on her surroundings and not on the man who’d gone to find them some fresh lemonade. But Pastor Dev was back, right at her side. In fact, he’d somehow managed to keep his gaze on her as he’d crossed the dining room to the huge punch bowl centered on the long Queen Anne table. She’d watched him, their eyes meeting in spite of the masks they both wore.
    “Here you go,” he said, handing her a dainty crystal cup of the chilled lemonade concoction. Then he reached his other hand around. “I found some brownies, too. I know you love brownies.”
    Lydia could have kissed the man, but then that probably wasn’t such a good idea, considering all the erratic thoughts moving with the same whirl as the ceiling fans through her mind. “Thank you.” She took a bite of a moist chocolate square, and closed her eyes. “You know, I have to say that the eating on this particular little adventure has been fine so far. I’m not starving.”
    “No, you’re not,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her face for reassurance. “You look fit as a fiddle.”
    Lydia laughed at that, and then flushed. “Nothing wrong with my appetite.”
    “Sorry.” He gulped his own lemonade, as he looked around. “I would have thought we’d make contact by now.”
    Lydia smiled at the way he looked all flustered and embarrassed, and the way he had quickly changed from flirtatious to commando in order to hide his own discomfort. That was rather endearing. But then she remembered the circumstances. Best not to flirt. Best to concentrate on staying alive.
    “This mask is making my face itch,” she said after she’d swallowed the last of her brownie. “Can’t we find a corner so we can take these things off for a minute or two?”
    “Not until after our contact approaches us.”
    “Any idea who we’re looking for?”
    “No. That’s how things go with CHAIM. It’s so secretive and undercover, that I might not even see the operative. But I’ll get the message. A word here, a gesture there.”
    “Well, that should be easy.”
    He laughed at her smirk. “No, the easy part is spending time with you. You look right at home here, Lydia.”
    She rolled her eyes, even though she wasn’t sure if he noticed. “Yeah, right. I am not to the manor born, Pastor Dev, as you well know.”
    He shook his head. “You could be, though.”
    “Thank you,” Lydia said, deciding to just accept his compliment. She finished off another brownie. “Wow, I must have eaten that too fast. I feel a little funny.” She touched a finger to the scratchy stitching and feathers at her temple. “My face feels so warm.”
    Pastor Dev immediately became concerned. “Maybe it’s the heat.”
    “I’m not hot,” she replied. She felt chills sweeping through her body even as she said the words. She’d felt chilled earlier, but just figured it was because of the cross ventilation from the open doors and the competent ceiling fans. “Maybe I just need to sit down.”
    He took her cup and set it on a nearby tray. “Let’s go out on the veranda.”
    Lydia nodded. She didn’t want to alarm him, but her skin did feel all clammy and hot now. She went from chills to what felt like fever, back and forth. She wondered if she’d eaten too much sugar. She did have a big sweet tooth.
    “Sit here,” he told her as he urged her down onto a lacy white bistro chair in one corner of the planked porch, away from the crowd at the big double entry doors. “There’s a nice breeze here by this big magnolia tree.”
    “Thank you.” Lydia sat down, careful to pull her dress around her knees. She breathed in the fragrant lemony scent of the magnolias, then swallowed back the nausea in her stomach. “I’ll be fine. Just got a bit too stuffy in there.”
    “Here, get this thing off your face,” he said, tugging at her disguise. Slipping it over her head, he stared straight into her eyes. “You don’t look