Amelia Autin - Black Ops Warrior

He didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. “Eloquently put,” he murmured when he raised his head. There was an expression in his eyes she couldn’t interpret. It almost looked like remorse. But what about her words would make Niall feel remorseful?

* * *

More proof—if he needed it—that Savannah wasn’t a traitor, Niall realized. But someone had deliberately set out to convince the US government she was. Why?

Her words also made him extremely glad he worked for a government that didn’t automatically assume guilt and act accordingly. Yes, he’d been dispatched to prevent Savannah from betraying the US by whatever means necessary. But his first assignment had been compiling proof of her guilt that would stand up in a court of law. Killing her would have been a last resort, only if he couldn’t stop her any other way.

He didn’t want to dwell on what might have been, because it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. But what she’d just revealed only added to his determination to find out who had made Savannah his target, and why. And to bring that person to justice.

* * *

The couple posing as husband and wife watched from a hundred yards away as Savannah and Niall walked hand in hand through the Forbidden City. Savannah, they were quick to notice, was completely oblivious to the danger they posed. Niall, not so much. His gaze was constantly moving, moving. Checking out the crowd, almost as if he were cataloguing people for future reference. They smiled and waved when his eyes met theirs, then they turned away to enter one of the small courtyards to deflect suspicion that they had Savannah and Niall under observation.

“Spencer was right,” the man said. “He’s a complication we don’t need.”

The woman froze, then glanced left and right to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “You’re going to kill him?” she whispered, obviously appalled. As if to say she’d signed up for kidnapping, but not for murder.

“I’d rather not if I don’t have to. Don’t want to bring official scrutiny on the tour if I can help it. But if I can arrange a little accident...” He shrugged. “A broken leg, maybe. Something to put him in the hospital or at least incapacitate him. We’ll see.”

* * *

Hours later, Savannah was exhausted. She’d walked for miles, it seemed, had ascended and descended countless broad stairways in her determination not to miss anything, had poked her nose into numerous courtyards, had peered into glass-walled rooms depicting homey little scenes of family life in the royal palace. She’d taken hundreds of photos with her camera that would be a pictorial diary she’d look back on years hence.

And she’d reveled in Niall’s company. She’d been surprised at how knowledgeable he was about Chinese history, both ancient and modern, and had thoroughly enjoyed every moment they’d spent discussing the pluses and minuses of life in China’s glorious past.

“Not so great for women, of course,” she stated after long discussions about Chinese contributions to art and science, the Silk Road and commerce, gunpowder, the invention of paper and life in general under the Chinese emperors.

“Yeah, but not really all that different from what life was like for women in England or Europe at that time, either,” he countered.

“True.” She stopped and drew a deep breath, conscious that her leg muscles were about to revolt.

“Tired?”

“A little,” she admitted, then amended, “Okay, a lot. But very happy I came here. It’s just so much to cram into a small span of time. I could spend days here and not see everything.”

One corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. “Yeah, but you’ve seen the highlights, same as at the Great Wall. And you can always say you’ve been here.” He gestured to her camera. “Want me to take your picture for you?”

“Ye...yes...”

But he’d apparently noticed her slight hesitation. “You don’t want me to take your picture?”

“That’s not it.” Just spit it out, she told herself firmly. “Could I take one of the two of us?” She raised her camera. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking selfies. Would you mind?” Then she held her breath.

“The pictures you already took of me aren’t enough?”

She stared at him. “You knew? You didn’t say anything.”

He laughed. “You’d make a lousy spy—you weren’t all that surreptitious.”

“Oh.” Nonplussed, she asked, “You don’t mind?”

“Mind that you want memories of the time we’ve spent together?” His lips quirked into a smile. “What do you think?”

“I wasn’t... It’s just that... Well, yes,” she confessed. “But I’d like at least one photo of the two of us together. Please?”

He slid an arm around her shoulders. “My pleasure.”

Savannah held her camera out away from the two of them and snapped a couple of shots, looking at the screen after each one to make sure she hadn’t cut off the top of their heads or anything stupid like that. “One more,” she pleaded.

Niall flashed her a smile. “Why sure, darlin’.”

His smile went right through her, and she felt it all the way to her toes. She sighed softly, then smiled at the camera and pressed the button. “Thanks.”

“Now one for me...to go with my collection.”

Her smile faded. “Collection?” she faltered, unsure what he meant by that but not liking the sound of it. Was Niall referring to a collection of women he’d been—?

“Pictures of you,” he added, as if he’d suddenly realized how she’d interpreted his statement. He whipped his iPhone out of his pocket to show her, scrolling through what appeared to be a dozen or more photos of her taken today. Candid shots, not posed, but each one clearly conveying her excitement at being there.

“When did you... How did you take these without my knowledge?”

“Because unlike you, I am good at taking pictures surreptitiously.” He drew her back against him, held the iPhone out and click! Then click again.

He held the phone for her to see without even looking at them himself. “Okay?”

The first picture was typical tourist fodder—they were both smiling at the camera, and in the background you could clearly see the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The second picture, the one she hadn’t been expecting and therefore wasn’t posing for, was troubling. Because she’d turned in that split second between the first and the second clicks, and was staring up at Niall with an expression that could easily be called...yearning.

She wanted to insist he delete that photo because it was too revealing, but she didn’t want to call attention to it, either. So she just nodded and handed him back the phone, then watched in silence for his reaction.

“Not bad,” he said judiciously, reviewing the first one. When he swiped a finger over the screen to view the second one, however, he said nothing at all. But his eyebrows twitched into a frown before he shut the phone down and pocketed it.

“Come on,” he said, grasping her hand and drawing her willy-nilly after him toward the northern end of the Forbidden City. “There’s still time to visit the Imperial Garden. I’ve heard the rockeries there are not to be missed.”

* * *

Savannah had signed up for one of the few optional side tours, the Peking opera, so Niall had, too. But unlike Savannah, whose gaze was fixed on the stage practically the entire night, Niall spent most of the evening watching her. Wondering if he wasn’t making a bad mistake.

The photo from this morning bothered him. A lot. It was one thing to become Savannah’s lover—which he had every intention of doing. It was another thing entirely to make her fall in love with him—which he had no intention of doing.