by Hope Franke
“I don’t have any of my belongings and I’d like to change out of these pajamas.”
Callum reached for his phone. “I’ll have something delivered.”
Gabriele wondered how that would work, considering he didn’t know her size, but she was too tired to argue. After their stressful, nerve-racking, emotionally wrought night, she’d give anything to have a shower, and upon discovering the location of the loo, she took a nice, long one, letting the hot water run out.
A white robe hung on the back of the door. She sniffed it—better than the PJs that smelled of nervous sweat. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of putting those back on her body.
She checked out both rooms and selected the darkest one. She crawled under the covers and immediately fell asleep.
Gabriele awoke to the smell of something cooking. Italian? Whatever it was, it aroused her hunger. She tightened the belt of the robe around her waist and padded downstairs.
Callum was busy chopping and sautéing vegetables. He turned when he heard her, his mouth opening to speak, but when his eyes scanned her robe, nothing came out.
Gabriele crossed her arms with a sudden sense of modesty. “I don’t have anything clean.”
“Ah, yes.” He stirred the pasta boiling in a pot on the stove. “Paula is on her way.”
“Where’d the food come from?”
“Paula hit the grocery store first. She apologizes for taking so long to get you some clothes.”
“Who’s Paula?”
“A colleague.”
“Another spy?”
“We prefer to refer to our occupation less on the nose.”
“Okay, is she another city worker?”
“Yes.”
Gabriele watched Callum stir the sauce. “I thought you didn’t cook.”
“I can cook. I just didn’t feel like it the other night. Did you sleep?”
“Yes. Don’t tell me you’ve been awake this whole time?”
“No. I slept on the sofa.”
Callum opened a bottle of sparkling water.
“Would you like a glass?” he asked.
“That would be nice.”
He poured for both of them and then handed her one of the glasses. He tipped the edge of his to hers. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Their eyes locked. Gabriele watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.
“You look... very…. nice.”
Gabriele flushed red. The robe was hardly boudoir photo-worthy, but besides her underclothes, it was all that she had on.
Callum took a step toward her and reached out to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger. It had dried in loose curls and fell along her shoulders. His touch, though not direct, made her shiver. Her pulse accelerated as he leaned close to whisper in her ear.
“You are very lovely.”
His lips brushed her cheek and she closed her eyes. Her blood surged and she reached to put her glass down, not trusting her fingers to retain their hold.
Callum tilted her chin up and his mouth rested lightly on hers. She held her breath.
His lips moved over hers more urgently now, and somehow he managed to kiss her expertly while holding his glass and not spilling a drop.
They were in danger of repeating their performance from back at Callum’s house. Gabriele hadn’t been in her right mind then, and once again her body threatened to betray her.
Normally, she wasn’t the kind of person to use someone else to let off steam, to wring out her emotions. Normally, she wasn’t the kind of person to let someone else do that to her, either. This situation was anything but normal.
Callum’s lips whispered along her neck, teasing. She whispered back along his forehead. This was wrong. They were both acting recklessly. She didn’t even know how long she was staying. She’d come to England to find closure. Kissing Callum was only opening another whole can of worms.
Gabriele placed a hand on his chest and breathed out, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Callum pulled back slightly and watched her as she tried to recover. He took a short step back, releasing his hold, and let his head hang. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re right, of course.”
He looked down at her sheepishly and his lips tugged up. “I mustn’t burn our dinner.”
CALLUM INHALED DEEPLY as he turned his back on Gabriele and circled a wooden spoon through the sauce.
What was the matter with him?
He took a long drink and busied himself with meal preparation. Stir the vegetables. Check the pasta. Is the garlic bread done?
He couldn’t believe he’d kissed her again. What kind of idiot was he? Had he no self-control?
Gabriele was just too darn desirable. Her honesty. Her vulnerability. Even her stubbornness—he found he wanted it all. He wanted her.
He apologized silently to Mick. Callum understood him now. He got why his brother was willing to take such big risks to be with her.
But was it more than that? He and Mick were always so competitive. When it came to sports, grades, gaining their father’s attention and approval—they constantly worked to one up the other. Who had the most medals? He did. Who had the highest grades? Mick did.
Who had their father’s attention?
It swayed depending on if it was time for the world cup or for university acceptance letters.
But with girls, there had always been an understanding. Girlfriends were supposed to be off limits. Not once in the whole time Mick was with Clover did Callum ever act inappropriately around her. And Clover was a looker. Even after Mick ended things and married Gabriele, Callum never considered that Clover could be an option for him. She was linked to Mick and always would be.
So what was the matter with him now? Gabriele wasn’t just his brother’s former girlfriend: she had been his wife.
Callum had been angry at Mick for risking his life for this woman. He’d warned him repeatedly not to get involved, certainly not to make it legal in any way.
Callum’s eyes darted to Gabriele as she sat at the table looking like a lost child. He had blamed her.
But he didn’t anymore. Mick was a grown man. An adult. He made his own decisions, and she didn’t have anything to do with that, except that she was the incredible woman she was.
Callum wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but giving into those impulses would be selfish and foolhardy. He and Gabriele had no future. He was toying with her feelings to satisfy his own. It had to stop. He would stop.
Callum checked the time. Where was Paula?
CALLUM HAD RETURNED to his station by the stove, while Gabriele, feeling weakened by another passionate encounter, had slouched into one of the chairs. She was undeniably attracted to Callum. How could she not be? He looked like Lennon. A part of her felt like she was being unfaithful, cheating.
She wasn’t though. She knew this. Lennon was dead. She was free to move on.
But with Callum? She worried he was playing with her, that she was just another thing that had belonged to his brother that he now made claim to. She hated how he’d completely disarmed her. And that he knew it.
Being alone with Callum was dangerous. She really needed some clothes.
And as if she’d summoned it, the doorbell rang.
“Wait here,” Callum said. He cracked the door open, then swung it wide. He called to Gabriele, “Paula has arrived.”
Paula was average height and weight and wore a navy blue pantsuit. She didn’t wear makeup, and her brown hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense low ponytail.
Gabriele didn’t have high hopes for the contents in the bag.
“Thanks,” she said as Paula handed it to her.
“I’m Paula by the way.” She extended her hand.
Gabriele shook it. “I’m Gabriele.”
Paula glanced around settling her gaze on the table set for two with an bottle of sparkling water sitting in the middle. Her eyes cut to Callum, and her lips turne
d down slightly like she disapproved. “I can smell dinner, so I won’t keep you.”
“Would you like to join us?” Gabriele said suddenly.
Callum jumped in. “Yes, great idea. Paula, I doubt you’ve eaten in a while.”
She cocked her head. “That’s true and certainly nothing home cooked.” She glanced at Gabriele, to the table and back to Callum. Her eyes were intelligent, but one didn’t need advanced powers of discernment to pick up the romantic tension in the room. “If you don’t mind,” she said politely, “I’ll accept your invitation.”
Gabriele left Callum with Paula in the kitchen and skipped upstairs feeling relieved that she and Callum wouldn’t be left alone. They needed time to diffuse their mutual attraction. Gabriele determined to keep her distance from Callum from now on. No more touching!
Gabriele opened the shopping bag and began to remove the items one by one: a pair of straight-leg, low-waist jeans, a long-sleeved blue and white striped blouse, a dark knit cardigan, a thin black synthetic bomber jacket, socks and a pair of trainers in her shoe size.
Gabriele chuckled. How did Paula know?
She dressed quickly and used the brush she found on the cupboard in the loo to brush her hair. She wished she had makeup, but having nice, new clothes that fit just right made up for it.
Callum regarded her appreciatively when she joined them. Gabriele smiled at him and quickly turned her attention to Paula. “These are great. How did you... ?”
“Callum sent me a couple photos, and I was able to establish your size and style from that.”
Gabriele eyed Callum as she took the seat across from him, wondering what pictures he had of her and why he had them?
“Bon Appétit,” Callum said, taking his chair. “Dig in.”
Callum had prepared spaghetti with stir-fried vegetables on the side and toasted garlic bread. Gabriele almost inhaled her meal, not realizing just how hungry she was.
“This is amazing,” she said.
He winked. “I’m glad you like it.”
“So, Gabriele, “ Paula began as she tore her bread in two. “Is this your first time to London?”
Gabriele shook her head and dabbed her mouth with a paper serviette. “No. I studied here for a semester three years ago as part of my language studies.”
“That explains your excellent grasp of English. Do you speak any other languages besides German?”
“I’m fluent in French, Italian and Spanish.”
Callum cut in, “Any Arab nation languages?”
Gabriele considered him. “I studied Arabic for a year as an elective, but I wouldn’t say I could converse in it.”
“Can you read it?” he asked.
“To a degree.”
Paula cleared her voice. “I’m sorry your visit this time around was so... unpleasant.”
Gabriele’s eye caught Callum’s. “It hasn’t been all bad. But getting shot at and chased this morning was a low point.”
Paula smirked. “Your attitude commends you.”
“Thanks. But I still don’t understand why they want me so badly?”
Callum lowered his fork. “They think you know what Mick knew. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come back. And now that you’re with me... well, now you do know.” His lips pulled down into that scowl he continually wore when they first met. “I’ve made things worse for you.”
Gabriele now wished she was sitting closer to Callum. She really wanted to reach out and touch him, to let him know she didn’t blame him. “I’m glad I know.”
“And,” Callum added with a sigh, “it seems our friend Sati Habib has taken a particular interest in you. You were, after all, the wife of the man who betrayed him, the reason he spent almost two years in prison.”
Gabriele lost her breath. “He’s not still in prison?”
Callum and Paula exchanged a look before he answered. “No. He was released two days ago.”
Two days ago? So those times she felt like she was being followed and it wasn’t Callum… it was... Sati?
Gabriele’s forehead grew damp and she patted at it with her serviette.
“I’m sorry,” Callum said quietly.
Paula pushed away from the table, having eaten in record time. This lady didn’t mess around. “Thanks for the meal, Callum,” she said as she donned her blazer. “I owe you.” She turned to Gabriele. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Gabriele watched Paula as she briskly walked to the kitchen door, carefully locking it before closing it behind her.
Callum studied Gabriele from across the table with a warm, intense gaze that made her squirm. Why did he insist on staring at her like that? She felt pinned to her chair under some kind of soul-searching examination. She really hoped his spy training hadn’t included some kind of high-tech/science-fiction mind-reading skills. She’d be mortified if he knew how scrambled and confused her emotions were right now, particularly regarding him. The attraction she felt was undeniable, but was it trustworthy?
Was he trustworthy?
She stared back without smiling. “When’s my flight?”
Guilt flashed behind his eyes. “Nine-fifteen tomorrow morning.”
So, she was right. It was already booked. Callum was just playing with her like a heartless lion toying with the antelope it fully intends to kill.
She blinked back hot tears, feeling foolish and small. She gathered her dishes and began to clear away the meal, keeping her head down and her eyes averted.
“Gabriele?”
“I’m fine.” You win. “It’s time I left. I’ll sell the cottage. I won’t come back.”
“Gabi?”
She pinched her eyes closed at the use of her pet name. The name her closest friends and family called her. What Lennon had called her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she tensed.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
What did he mean to do then? She pulled away from his touch. “I said I’m fine.”
THERE WAS a sharp tap on the kitchen door. Gabriele shot Callum a look.
“It’s probably Paula.” He checked his phone. “We have security posted on the street. They would’ve called if it were someone else.”
Gabriele peeked out the window but couldn’t see anyone in the dark. Callum flicked the switch for the outside light, but it didn’t come on.
“I told someone to change that bulb,” he muttered.
Still, he opened the door cautiously. “Paula?” He glanced back at Gabriele as he began to shut the door. “No one there.”
Then the door was kicked open, knocking Callum backwards, and a strange young man in dark clothing filled the entrance.
Gabriele froze.
“Sati,” Callum said, moving into a fighting stance.
This was the man who was responsible for all the terrible things that had happened to Lennon. He had black hair shaved short, a dark beard on caramel skin and black as night eyes devoid of soul. His gaze stayed on Gabriele for a long moment, and the hatred she saw there made her insides shrivel.
He refocused on Callum taking sure steps towards him. He wielded a knife.
Gabriele screamed.
Callum kicked Sati sharply in the center of his chest. It was enough to knock him backwards, but not off his feet. The man’s face was hard with steely, inhuman eyes. He lunged at Callum with the knife again.
Callum held his fists up and in front of his face, legs wide and bent slightly at the knees. The attacker swung, but Callum stepped in and blocked his arm with his left wrist and swiftly elbowed him in the face with his right. The knife fell with a clang. Sati stumbled back, but returned with a fist strike to Callum’s face. The blow caused Callum to collapse to the floor.
It all happened so fast, in seconds. Gabriele couldn’t believe her eyes.
Sati retrieved the knife and held it above Callum, preparing to strike. Callum kicked his hand with one foot, and the man’s groin with the other in quick succession, momentarily disabling him. Callu
m hopped back to his feet.
The attacker recovered, growled and sliced through the air with the knife.
Callum dodged, dipping under his arm and striking Sati in the kidney with his the heel of his left hand. Sati yelled, spun and returned with a sharp elbow-punch to Callum’s face, knocking him to the floor. He lay there dazed as the man hovered over him, knife in hand.
Gabriele had no doubt he would kill Callum. “Stop!” she yelled. Impulsively, she jumped on the attacker’s back.
He flung around, dropping the knife, and pulled her off his back with two strong arms. He squeezed her to his chest, holding her tight with an arm wrapped around her neck. Gabriele gagged for breath.
Callum clumsily worked his way to his feet. “Let her go.”
“My mission is to kill you both. I might as well start with her.” His grip tightened.
Gabriele eyed the paring knife Callum had used to slice tomatoes on the nearby counter. If she could just grab it.
“Sati, she’s innocent,” Callum said. “Let her go and I’ll surrender myself to you.”
“She is not innocent! None who are not on the side of Allah are innocent.”
Gabriele reached slowly, her fingers clasping the small knife, and with a sharp stroke, stabbed her attacker in the thigh.
Sati bellowed and loosened his grip. Gabriele sent her elbow straight back into his solar plexus and he buckled over. She stepped backwards and followed through with a karate chop to the back of his neck. Sati collapsed to the floor. He groaned, pressing a hand on the wound on his leg. Blood spurted between his thick fingers.
Gabriele scooted behind Callum who flashed her a look of disbelief. Then he knelt to the ground and pulled on Sati’s shirt. He punched him in the jaw and knocked him out.
He grabbed Gabriele’s hand. “Let’s go.”
GABRIELE’S FINGERS shook as she worked her seatbelt closed. She’d wasted precious seconds by going to the wrong side of the Smart Car. Callum just pushed her to crawl over the stick shift to the passenger seat.