by A Rosendale
Alma glanced at him, then looked back at the streetlight. The man was gone. With a frown, she said, “Yeah, I just thought…” She shook her head. “It was nothing, I’m sure. Ready?”
Dirk followed her gaze for a moment, then nodded. He helped her on with her coat before donning his and they went out into the bitterly cold, dry night.
“It always amazes me that it feels warmer when it’s snowing,” Alma remarked as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. Dirk walked beside her with a similar posture. He could think of some distinct moments in his life when falling snow had had quite the opposite effect, but chose not to share.
By the time they reached the coffee shop opposite the aquarium, Alma had forgotten about the creepy man outside. Dirk held the door, but stopped her as she crossed the threshold.
“I absolutely insist on buying your dessert.”
With a roll of her eyes, she grinned and nodded. “Fine.”
They sat at a corner table and talked late into the night. Alma shared her initial findings on seal diets in Puget Sound. Dirk hung on her every word and drew her into conversation she found she’d been starved for; her students could never discuss this topic in such depth. He didn’t just ask questions for clarification, he then took the information and drove the colloquy.
It wasn’t until the barista informed them that she needed to lock up that either of them noted the late hour. Dirk waved down a cab and held the door for Alma. She hesitated to get in.
“Thank you,” she said, more focused on the captivating conversation than the rest of the evening.
“Thank you,” he replied with a grin, also envisioning their hours-long discussion.
“I’ll…” She paused, wondering at her tact, then plunged ahead. “I’ll see you at the Lighthouse tomorrow?”
“Without a doubt,” he purred, leaning in.
Alma held her breath, but at the last moment, as if echoing her hesitation to press matters, he planted a light kiss on her cheek. The brief, breathy contact sent a warm flush over her skin. She touched his hand that still held the car door, smiled, and with a lingering caress, got in. Dirk reluctantly closed the door and let her go. He watched the taxi disappear around the corner before setting off in the other direction.
His hand tingled where she’d touched him and his mind buzzed from the euphoric night. Smiling to himself, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked through the city in a floating state. Finally, when even the cold had seeped through his reflections, he hailed a cab to take him the final miles to his apartment building. Distracted as he was, he never felt the pair of eyes that tailed him through the streets.
* * *
“I have an operation for you in the Middle East.”
Dirk nodded seriously and dropped the Cussler novel on the coffee table. He moved across the room and sat down at his desk. The lid of the laptop was already opened, all he had to do was enter a series of complicated passwords. “Go ahead.”
Thirty minutes later, as he packed his duffel, he ruminated on the morning. He’d rendezvoused with Alma at the Lighthouse where they’d alternated between pleasant conversation, reading in companionable silence, and discussing the literature. He found a smile on his lips as he zipped the bag and headed for his Jeep in the basement garage.
Chapter 3
With the automatic pistol disassembled and made primarily of plastic, Dirk’s luggage passed through security without raising the concerns of the TSA. He gathered his bag and headed straight home. He’d submitted a report before leaving Pakistan, so he was confident his assignment had concluded.
The cool brick apartment felt welcoming and secluded after eleven days abroad. Dirk wondered if he’d ever get the sand out of his hair, or if it had grated into his pores for the duration. It wasn’t until he noticed the book on the coffee table that he allowed images of his last date to return to mind. It was not only part of his training, but also imperative to his survival to push personal matters to the side while at work.
He checked the time. It was mid-afternoon in Boston. ‘Too late for coffee,’ he thought. ‘But maybe-’
His planning was cut short by the phone ringing. He realized it was the flip phone in the pocket of his cargo pants rather than the iPhone in its charger on the desk and hurried to answer.
“I need you to do some recon at an event tonight.”
“Where?”
“Boston Convention Center. Seven o’clock. Black tie event.”
“Target?” He had moved to the laptop and typed out the name as it was rattled off.
Without valediction, they hung up.
Dirk sighed and grudgingly abandoned the entertaining idea of seeing Alma. He suddenly regretted not exchanging phone numbers with her the previous weekend. ‘Tomorrow morning,’ he told himself.
* * *
“Next round’s on me!” Mike Sanderson declared.
None of the professors gathered around the table argued. After a long week teaching and researching, none of them would have opted for the gala event the chair of the department had dragged them to.
“I’d take Antarctic penguins over these black and white decked politicians any day!” Dr. Cassie Butters exclaimed.
Alma couldn’t help but laugh. She would take her own black and white marine animals over their current company as well. But she’d dressed up as directed and smiled pleasantly at the men and women who pretended to sound impressed at her career choice. Outfitted in a dark blue, A-line, ankle length dress with a lace jacket, she fit in with the rest of the guests. Aside from her cumulus gray eyes, she resembled any number of elegantly clad businesswomen, professors, and politicians in the crowded convention center.
A band played in the corner, leading a handful of couples on the limited faux ballroom floor; countless other individuals conversed under a buzz of activity. Sanderson had just delivered her second glass of red wine when the chair of the marine sciences department appeared at Alma’s elbow.
“Dr. Decker, there’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” Dr. Brandon Miles was nice enough, but persistent beyond belief. He had initially aimed to charm Alma upon her appointment as professor of marine biology at Boston University. But her resolve not to date a coworker, and especially her boss, eventually deterred him. He still couldn’t resist placing a hand on her back as he steered her through the crowd.
“Congressman Flescher, this is the woman I was telling you about, Dr. Alma Decker.”
Flescher was aptly described by his name. His chin seemed to sit directly on his shoulders with only a ring of bulky flesh as a neck. The tuxedo encompassing his body was so stretched, it was a wonder the buttons didn’t pop off. “Dr. Decker, Dr. Miles tells me you’re a native of Puget Sound. It seems we share a homeland.”
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” Miles shot Alma an imperious glance, impressing his intent upon her. She was clearly supposed to appeal to Flescher’s genteel qualities to gain funding for the department. With an effort, she refrained from rolling her eyes and maintained a winning smile. Miles melted into the crowd, most likely after another entrepreneur to seduce.
“Oh?”
“Bainbridge Island, born and bred,” he announced proudly to the beautiful woman in his company.
“I’m from San Juan Island. Friday Harbor, more specifically.”
“What beautiful scenery! And there’s not a more perfect atmosphere for fostering a marine biologist.”
“I agree.” Floundering for conversation topics, she scanned the crowd, hoping for a passing colleague. “Um, what brought you to Boston, Mr. Flescher?”
“Oh, the usual. Proximity to…”
Her interest in his reply faded as she sighted a familiar face. At first glance, she thought it was just a trick of the light, and then wondered if it was wishful thinking. But when Dirk caught her eye and smiled, she couldn’t help but smile back.
Flescher didn’t notice her inattention until her eyes lit up and he realized she was gazing over his shoulde
r. Trying in vain to keep her audience, he raised his voice and spoke faster, mentioning the whale watching tour he’d participated in while in high school.
“That’s very interesting,” Alma replied vaguely.
By the time Dirk reached them, Flescher was frowning. He almost reached out to touch her arm and repeat the peck on the cheek he’d delivered nearly two weeks before. But an intuitive glance at her current company stayed his hand.
“Congressman Flescher,” he greeted, facing the man instead of Alma.
Flescher looked at him in confusion and opened his mouth to ask if they knew each other, but Dirk interrupted.
“You’re keeping fine company over here with Dr. Decker. I assume you’re discussing your recent environmental bill. If I recall, it addresses oil tanker traffic in Puget Sound. Of course, Dr. Decker would have an intimate understanding of risks associated with increased tanker traffic to the delicate ecosystem.”
Alma stared for a moment with absolute surprise. Then she shook her shock away and faced Flescher again. She’d never heard of the congressman, let alone his environmental efforts.
“Of…of course,” Flescher stuttered. “Miss…I mean, Dr. Decker, perhaps you wouldn’t mind submitting some of your research as evidence to back the bill.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “Anything to protect our native wildlife.”
Apparently flustered by Dirk’s presence, he excused himself and parted the tide to pass through the crowd.
“Good evening,” Dirk greeted, as if the exchange had never occurred.
Alma lifted a brow. “How do you know Flescher?”
He shrugged and sipped the scotch in his hand. After completing his intel for the night, he’d allowed himself a drink and the opportunity to peruse the venue. He’d never dreamt of running into Alma at the seemingly political gathering. He’d been more than pleased at her untimely appearance. “I don’t,” he answered slyly. “I read about him in the paper a few weeks ago and recognized his photo.”
Alma laughed. “Well, thank you for rescuing me from that painfully awkward conversation.”
His grin was all the response she needed. “Will you join me outside for a breather?”
She contemplated the request. It was admittedly stuffy in the convention center, but below freezing outside. She glanced over the heads of the patrons at the table filled with her colleagues. Miles was watching her possessively. He was clearly not pleased with her current anonymous company. Turning back to Dirk, she smiled and nodded.
He offered her his arm. Imagining the sizzling gaze boring into her back, she smiled and took it.
“You’ve been MIA for a while,” she pointed out as they exited the bustling building for an extended patio intended for smokers. There were only a couple partakers nestled in close to the propane heaters perched along the velvet barriers.
The statement grated on Dirk’s subconscious, but he couldn’t tell her why it bothered him. “Just out of town on work. I realized while I was away that we’ve never exchanged numbers.”
“Is that a suggestion?” she teased, turning to face him as they came to a stop on the sidewalk.
He grinned wryly. “I suppose.” He passed his iPhone to her.
She withdrew her phone from some hidden fold in her dress. When they exchanged them back again, she looked at her screen. “Travers,” she mused to herself.
“Hmm?” He dropped his phone in the hip pocket of his tux.
“Dirk Travers.” She played with the name on her lips. Dirk found he quite enjoyed the sound. “You’ve never told me your last name.”
Without reply, he sipped his drink.
“So, where did your travels take you this time?”
“Miami,” he answered.
“Ah. I thought you looked a bit tan for a Boston winter.”
The fact that she’d studied him so closely gave him a thrill he couldn’t explain. Pleased that she clearly wasn’t upset at his lack of communication over the past two weeks, he drew her into casual conversation. “I have to admit, I was surprised to see you here.”
Alma scoffed. “Same here. The chair of our department dragged us here late on a Friday night to hobnob with potential donors. I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but academics are not necessarily the most social of creatures.”
Dirk laughed. “I can understand that.” He motioned back inside. “Your chair is the man staring after you?”
Again, she was taken aback by his observation. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” The scowl that crossed his face was fleeting and he covered it with a swallow of liquor.
Alma wasn’t sure if it was the cold air or the expression on his face that made her shiver.
“Here,” he offered, shedding his jacket quickly.
“I’m okay,” she insisted.
Ignoring her, he draped the black tux jacket over her shoulders. The heat that flushed her had nothing to do with the thick material, but was directly related to the scent of him imbedded in the folds and his personal body heat that it retained. She looked away to hide the pleasure that crossed her face.
They chatted for a while longer, reviewing the literature they’d both studied since last meeting. Finally, Dirk rubbed his arms through the thin cotton of the white shirt and motioned inside. Alma passed his jacket back and led the way, setting her empty wine glass on a table as they entered.
“Another drink?” he offered.
A quick look across the room told her she was still on Miles’ radar. He had abandoned the table of reluctant professors and was beguiling a new entrepreneur. He met her eyes and motioned her over, but she pretended she hadn’t seen and took Dirk’s arm again.
He followed the exchange without her knowledge and took the pressure on his arm as acceptance. He smiled purposefully at her, his green eyes twinkling. Without staring directly, he knew the man reacted with a glower.
Another round in hand, Dirk indicated her associates.
“You want to meet them?” she asked skeptically.
He shrugged. “Sure. I’m enjoying one academic’s company. Why not add to the fun?”
Rolling her eyes, she led him to the table of BU professors. They perked up with interest. “This is Dr. Mike Sanderson, professor of marine engineering. Dr. Cassie Butters of marine meteorology. Dr. Amie Tutterow, she teaches oceanography. And Dr. Steven Attenborough, who heads our maritime archeology studies. Everyone, this is Dirk Travers.”
Sanderson and Attenborough stood to shake his hand while Tutterow and Butters took stock of the handsome man in their presence. Cassie shot Alma an obvious wink of approval.
“Join us,” Amie ordered, followed by, “Please!” Apparently fresh meat replaced her appeal for penguins.
After a brief introductory discussion, the four professors started conversing in technical terms, apparently as a means of testing the new comer. Dirk listened for a few minutes, noted Alma’s absence from the dialogue, and jumped in.
“From my understanding, the coral beds in the Gulf are suffering significantly from a number of external circumstances, but most notably destructive fishing practices. The introduction of poisons as a means of filling the net has been detrimental to the health of the entire ecosystem.”
His observation paused the discourse momentarily and drew an appreciative nod from the crew. With his knowledgeable input, they continued their debate. Alma listened, pondering her companion and his ability to weave in and out of conversations when he should seemingly lack any familiarity with the topic. In the end, she could only admire his intelligence.
“Dr. Decker,” a voice called over the din.
Again, Alma refrained from rolling her eyes at Miles’s beckon. Dirk, however, perked up at the summons and watched her rise and meet the man a few yards away.
“I’d like to speak with you about your conversation with Congressman Flescher. How could you agree to submit evidence for-”
Dirk rose quickly and was at her side in a flash. “I’m afraid that was my doing,” he
asserted. “I felt that Dr. Decker’s special interest in the Pacific Northwest would assist Flescher in passing his bill, hopefully to improve the living conditions of all the wildlife of the area.” He paused. “Perhaps I misinterpreted the purpose of marine biologists and higher education.” The glare Miles delivered almost made Dirk grin. But he stifled the reaction and smiled pleasantly instead. “Dirk Travers,” he introduced brightly and extended a hand.
Miles scowled and took it begrudgingly. Grumbling under his breath, he stepped around the couple to the table of Boston professors.
“I’m sorry,” Dirk apologized quietly, his lips so close to Alma’s ear, she felt his breath on her skin. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
She shot him a disarming smile. “I’m not worried. He’s got more to lose than I do.”
Dirk furrowed his brow, asking for explanation.
“I’ve had a handful of job offers from competing universities,” she provided. “Miles knows that.”
He grinned at her veiled cunning. “What do you say we get out of here?”
Alma sighed visibly in light of reprieve. “Yes!” She bade goodnight to her associates, acknowledged the sly looks Amie and Cassie shot her, and followed Dirk to the coat check. She declined his help with her coat, but took his proffered arm to exit.
Dirk led her to a waiting cab. The driver pulled away from the convention center before being offered a destination.
“I was thinking a nightcap at a tavern I know, but if you’d like to turn in, that’s fine.” He smiled gently at her surprised expression. “I just knew you wanted to get out of there, whether it was due to Miles or not. I wanted to offer you an escape, no matter the cost to my evening.”
She placed a hand on his knee gratefully, a sensation that sent a flood of warmth through his body. “I appreciate it. And I’d love a nightcap.” She contemplated her glasses of wine throughout the long evening. “Perhaps something hardier than wine.”
Her fortitude brought a grin to his lips and he directed the driver across town.
Chapter 4