Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) by Stella Kelly Read Free Book Online

the vanity. Looking up at his image, he was
struck by how old he appeared. The years seemed to have crept up without
notice. The stubble on his rounded jaw was a couple of days old now. Perhaps he
should shave, but then again, the shadow may help conceal his identity. Running
a calloused hand over the rough hair, he scratched his cheek. He spit in the
sink and stood tall, puffing up his broad chest. Turning to the side, he
flexed, admiring the view. The last few years he’d spent at the prison gym had
paid off. He’d never looked so muscular, so powerful. The bulk underneath his
white tee shirt was covered in tattoos, but he would be conscious to cover them
up despite the tropical heat and humidity. Again, he didn’t want to risk
someone seeing the body art and identifying him later. He would be a stealthy
whisper, gone after the money was transferred securely into the intended bank
account. He would be a ghost. He’d waited so long for this chance.

 
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    Katrina
stood in the sand and stretched, letting her muscles flex as she reached toward
the dawning sky. Every new day she spent at the mansion seemed like a new
chance at life. The sun was always rising, so she could count on that. And the
ocean, although at times tumultuous, was a constant. At least some things never
changed.
    Looping her towel around her neck, she
took a final deep breath before turning to leave. As she did, she spotted Agent
Nielsen descending the staircase and a smile pulled uncontrollably at the
corners of her mouth. As he drew closer, she saw that he too was smiling and
happy to see her.
    “It’s like we never parted!” he said
standing in front of her.
    Glancing down, Katrina admired his
muscular calves and then the way his grey tee shirt pulled tautly across his
well-built chest. Sweat marks indicated he’d had a great workout already. “Are
you always up this early?” she asked, wiping sweat from her own brow with a
forearm.
    “I had to work off all that crème brule,”
he laughed easily and rubbed his stomach. “Yes, actually, I have a routine I
follow. It helps to start my day.”
    “Me too. I hadn’t expected to see anyone
awake at this hour. I’m glad it’s you and not Agent Kensing.”
    “Trust me, from what I hear it would take
a crowbar to wake him. He’s been known to be late for shifts, and he already
has me on every morning shift this week.”
    “When do you start?”
    “The Secretary and the Deputy have a
round of golf this morning at nine. I’ll patrol the grounds first and then join
them. It’s been a while since I played golf.”
    “And when was the last time you did
Pilates?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, try never.”
    “Maybe tomorrow morning you’d be up for
that instead of your usual run. Just a suggestion.”
    “You mean an invitation?”
    “Sure, you could call it that.”
    “I’ll think about it.”

 
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    The
golf carts pulled away from the tarmac onto the soft green at the sixth hole
just as Secretary Mitchell’s cell phone rang again.
    “Hello, Vivian.” He rolled his eyes at
his son Jimmy who jumped down and grabbed the appropriate club. Cole spotted
Jimmy mimic his father, the act making him chuckle.
    “Yes, Vivian, I’ve already signed those
papers. We’re just golfing here. Is there anything else?”
    Secretary Mitchell swatted a hand at Deputy
Greenbaum indicating he should go first. The Deputy and Cole hopped down from
the second golf cart and took their places beside Jimmy. The boy’s energy was
contagious. He was keen to begin his hit, eager to learn.
    Secretary Mitchell ended his phone call
and joined the others. He leaned on his club casually while watching Deputy
Greenbaum prepare for his shot.
    “She doesn’t give you a moment’s peace,
does she,” Cole said, referring to the Secretary’s assistant