Free Reach For the Spy by Diane Henders Page A

at him. “Jeez, how old were you?”
    “I was twenty. She was
nineteen.” He sighed. “We had to rush the wedding a bit because she
was pregnant, but I would’ve married that girl no matter what. I
was crazy about her.”
    “What happened?” I
asked softly.
    “She died in
childbirth.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    He shrugged again. “I
spent a lot of years afraid to get attached. I just found a warm
body and took a little comfort now and then. But now, I’m okay with
whatever happens.” He took my hand gently. “So I know where you’re
coming from. If you just need a warm body some night, I can be that
for you. No attachment.”
    I stared out over the
darkening fields. I still felt fragile after the strain of the day.
I could lie back right now on this warm, grass-scented hillside and
let Tom Rossburn soothe my aching body under the big sky. Just a
short chance to forget everything and take a little comfort.
    Not counting my late
husband, Hellhound was the only man I’d slept with in... Jesus,
nearly two decades. I deserved a chance to sample the herd, dammit.
There was nothing stopping me. A nice, willing man was sitting
right beside me. No strings attached.
    I sighed. There were
always strings. It was too complicated. It was too dangerous for
him. And I had a sneaking suspicion that despite his past, or maybe
because of it, he was ready to get attached again.
    “Thanks, Tom. I’ll keep
that in mind. But I don’t think it’ll happen.”
    “Why not?” He wasn’t
demanding, just asking.
    “I just... can’t.”
    “Why are you being
faithful to him when you know he won’t be faithful to you? You
deserve better than that.”
    “I’m not being faithful
to him. I just... there are other reasons.”
    “Aydan.” He leaned
forward to meet my eyes. “Are you afraid of him? Is he abusing
you?”
    “No!” I stared at him
in shock. “Arnie would never hurt me. He’s the gentlest man I
know.” I realized how implausible that sounded as the words left my
mouth. With his ugly bearded face, tattoos, and biking leathers,
Hellhound made a frightening first impression. ‘Gentle’ was not the
first adjective that came to mind.
    “If he’s the gentlest
man you know, then you need to get to know more men. He was rough
with you today. If he does that in public, what’s he like when
you’re alone?”
    “No, no, he was just
horsing around. He’s not like that.” I threw up my hands. I knew I
was sounding just like every abused woman on the planet, defending
her abuser.
    “Tom, thanks for being
concerned. I wouldn’t put up with abuse. And I don’t believe Arnie
would ever hurt me. Or any woman.”
    “Okay.” He rose. “I
have to get back.”
    I stood, too. “Me, too.
It’s going to be another long week.” I peered through the falling
darkness at him and hesitated. “Can we just... be friends?”
    He squeezed my hand.
“Friends, for sure. With benefits, if you want that.”
    “Um… thanks. Good
night,” I said awkwardly.
    “Good night.” He swung
into the saddle and I listened to the receding thud of hooves.

Chapter 12
    I dragged myself into
the shower in the morning. After another night of desperately
trying to run away while my dream feet refused to move, I was
exhausted and edgy. Despite my determined effort at a positive
attitude, dull dread of the day weighed down my body like lead
chains.
    I caught myself at the
breakfast table with my head propped in one hand, inches over my
bowl while I mindlessly shovelled cereal into my mouth. I shook
myself and sat up straight. Get a grip.
    Hoping for a boost, I
brewed myself a cup of caffeinated tea instead of my usual herbal
and headed out the door.
    At the Silverside
Hotel, I perched in the grubby chair. After organizing the papers
the previous week, I’d cleaned the desk and computer, so at least
that was an improvement. On the downside, Bill Harks had taken to
leaning on the back of my chair and breathing down my neck for
extended periods.
    As he