Free Silent Warrior: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Donna Kauffman Page A

figuratively.
    If any woman had penetrated the walls he’d built to shield his personal life, she’d more than likely had to use a battering ram. That was assuming he even had a personal life.
    Less than ten minutes later the path wandered out of the bordering banana plantations and into Aleria. The buildings were made mostly of whitewashed stone. Cali imagined that the overall look of the place hadn’t changed much over the decades. Less than a dozen little businesses lined the one and only paved road. Of them, all but two were currently operational, offering a variety of services, including a small grocer, a Laundromat, a curio shop, a patisserie, and a small drugstore.
    “There.” She pointed to the small, mostly white building at the opposite end of the street.
    “A
pharmacie
.” Those had been the first words he’d uttered since they’d left the bungalow. “What is the owner’s name again?”
    “Monsieur Quéval. He runs the whole store, but photography is an interest of his. Eudora says he only opened his photo lab to the public as a way of financing his hobby.”
    “Eudora actually shared that tidbit with you? Downright chatty of her.”
    “Shrewd woman. She had to give something if she expected me to tell her anything.”
    “I’m glad she chose this.”
    Cali’s smile was smug. “Yes. I’m sure she thought it was harmless information.”
    John pushed open the door to the dimly lit store. He let her pass, then ducked under the low, uneven door frame. Small bells tied to the back of the door announced their entrance. Inside, it smelled damp but felt refreshingly cool. The window air-conditioning unit was loud and wheezy, but it did the job. Cali blotted her forehead and cheeks on her T-shirt sleeve as she slid off her backpack. She cradled it in her arms, suddenly feeling protective and more than a bit wary of discussing its contents.
    Of all the things she resented about her situation, the worst was having to think of everyone as a potential bad guy. She’d spent a good deal of her early adult life around top-clearance-oriented work and had always thought the stress of being responsible for the safety of top-secret information would be the tough part.
    She now knew it didn’t hold a candle to the mental and physical exhaustion of having to examine everything and everyone down to the tiniest little detail, searching for any clue that might indicate that they could harm her. Kill her.
    She tightened her grip on the backpack. The shop was small and the shelves were low, so it was easy to determine that they were the only patrons there at the moment. Cali was certain Mr. Quéval had peeked tosee who his customers were, just as she was certain that upon discovering they weren’t islanders, he would likely not make an immediate appearance. The last thing he’d want to do was appear in any way eager to please. Heaven forbid.
    John walked to the one and only checkout counter and lifted his hand to tap the bell there. Cali grabbed his wrist just in time. His skin was warm and her fingertips had landed directly on his pulse. It was strong and rapid. She let go immediately.
    He shot her a questioning look.
    “He knows we’re here. You’ll only slow him down if you ring that.”
    “Right,” he said with mock solemnity. “How silly of me.”
    “You? Silly? Not in this lifetime.” He frowned, and she wished she hadn’t teased him. He might rile up more than her temper, but it wouldn’t kill the guy to have a friend. It wouldn’t hurt her right now, either.
    She began strolling the first aisle, picking out a bottle of sunscreen and a box of Band-Aids. She was back by the aspirin shelf when John caught up to her.
    “We don’t have time to go shopping, Cali.”
    “If you want to use the darkroom you do.”
    “Ah.” He leaned forward and selected a box of cotton swabs and a bottle of alcohol, adding it to her handbasket. “Mercenary mercantile.”
    She ducked her head and grinned. He made what was