Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service)

by Stella Kelly

  “Noah, I won’t let go, but you can’t look down. Just look into my eyes, okay. Noah?” Cole thought the boy had gone into shock. “Noah, look at me, nod your head that you understand.”

  The frightened boy nodded slowly and met Cole’s eyes.

  “Noah!” cried Deputy Greenbaum and Katrina in unison as they finally reached the cliff’s edge. Secretary Mitchell and Jimmy huffed deeply, winded from their sprint as they watched in silent horror. Helene soon joined them, panting from her desperate efforts to reach the dangling boy. “Oh, my baby, Noah!” she cried when she realized the severity of the danger. “We’re here, Honey, hold on!” She paced the edge, ringing her hands and crying.

  “Can you push with your feet?” Cole asked.

  A hush fell over the group as they watched, helpless. It was all up to Cole now. Noah attempted to push, but his feet slipped again and sent another cascade of rocks down the cliff making everyone gasp.

  Cole pulled with all his strength, groaning in his efforts.

  “What can we do?” Deputy Greenbaum asked desperately, feeling helpless to save his son.

  “Just give Agent Nielsen some space. He can do this,” Katrina chimed.

  Cole’s muscles strained and his face grew red and for an honest moment, he wasn’t sure if he could pull the boy up. If only he could get leverage somehow. Lying on his stomach seemed to make pulling Noah up impossible as it went against the laws of physics. But if he didn’t give it his all, the boy would surely die today.

  Noah’s pleas for help grew shallow as he sobbed and his energy waned. Cole’s eyes stared straight down, locking onto the boy’s. After one last heave, and just as Cole thought his muscles would tear from the bone, he finally raised Noah up and over the edge safely before collapsing beside him in exhaustion. Helene knelt beside Noah and cradled his head in her arms. “Oh, Noah, you’re safe,” she sobbed and kissed his forehead tenderly. “What on earth were you doing?”

  “Yes, son, why are you out here in the first place?” Deputy Greenbaum asked as he too hugged his son in relief.

  “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I’m okay, it’s no big deal, really.”

  “No big deal?!” his parents both barked.

  “Right, Noah, no big deal. You could have died!” Deputy Greenbaum could barely hide his anger.

  Jimmy stepped forward, seeing how distraught the adults were, “You’re really lucky, Noah. If it wasn’t for the big agent guy…”

  “Yes, thank you so much, Agent Nielsen. Thank God you were here. I can’t imagine what would have happened…” Helene trailed off in a sob. “Thank you.”

  “I think we’ll call it a day. I declare this golf game officially over since my head just isn’t into it now. Hope you understand, James,” Deputy Greenbaum faced his friend.

  “Completely. I feel the same.”

  “Me too,” Jimmy said with a nod.

  Zachary was still crying over the incident. Noah sat in shock, having thanked Cole over and over. Cole could tell he was sincere, though probably still in shock. He apologized for the stress he’d caused everyone, though the apology had been given after some coaxing from his father.

  Jimmy, Secretary Mitchell, and the Greenbaums walked toward the golf carts.

  “We have room for everyone,” Helene offered, but Cole said he felt like walking to shake off the experience. Katrina said she would head back to the beach to gather her and Helene’s belongings.

  “So much for our Pilates workout,” the distraught yet relieved mother looked at her apologetically.

  “There’s always tomorrow,” Katrina reassured as the golf cart pulled away. She began to walk toward the beach and Cole fell into step with her. “And? How are you really?” She looked up and met his gaze.

  Cole tried to hide his anxiety. His body was completely charged and still shaking. “I just can’t imagine what might have happened. I don’t want to think about it.”

  “I’d like to know where the nanny was during all this. Shouldn’t she have been watching them?”

  “You’d think so. Then again, she’s here for Jimmy only. Besides, those boys are old enough to know right from wrong.”

  “What is it about boys and danger?” Katrina shot him a playful look. “I bet you were mischievous as a little guy…or maybe you came out of the womb wearing a suit and tie, all prim and proper.” Chuckling, he felt her size him up as they descended the embankment toward the beach. “Where you ever little?”

  Cole was grateful for the small talk, anything to get his mind off what had just happened. Katrina was obviously well practiced in the art of distraction in more ways than she could possibly fathom. “As a matter of fact, I was the smallest boy in my class all through school.”

  “Ah, a late bloomer. Good things do get better with age.” Katrina flushed a little, as if taken aback by her unintentional flirtation.

  Cole looked at her and laughed. He could tell she’d let the phrase slip. “What am I, a fine wine?”

  “More like a ripe, aged cheese,” she joked.

  “No, that would be Agent Kensing,” Cole couldn’t help himself as they both laughed.

  “Yeah, no love-loss there. Why?”

  “He’s not my team. I’ve never worked with him before, but his reputation surpasses him. He considers himself the self-described ‘Lone Wolf’, yet the other agents have nicknamed him Agent Prickly. But I shouldn’t really be talking about him like that. It’s rude of me.”

  “You’re so polite. It’s strange to hear someone from New York so reserved and dignified, but I suppose it’s a reflection of your Uptown upbringing. I won’t hold that against you.” Her smile stretched wide and it put him at ease a little. “So, Agent Prickly, huh? The name suits him from what I can tell. And what’s your nickname then?”

  “Hmmm…” Cole thought about it. He doubted he had one.

  “Could it be Agent Prim and Preppy?” She seemed to gauge his reaction with raised eyebrows before bumping into him with her shoulder. He could have sworn she was flirting. “You know, you and I are very similar. I get the impression you value your independence here as much as I do.”

  “You’re right.” Cole noticed that she had relaxed a little and it pleased him. Maybe she was coming around, or perhaps she felt sorry for what he’d just gone through with Noah. Whatever the cause, he liked it. “Okay, Spitfire, since we’re throwing around nicknames. If you think I should be called that, fine. But I think you overestimate my rigidity.”

  “Spitfire? And who pray tell came up with that one, you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did, from our first meeting on the beach. That name seems perfect.”

  Katrina smirked. Now on the beach, she picked up her backpack and Helene’s belongings, but Cole intervened and helped her carry everything.

  “A lady never spits, and I’m a lady.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen you spit fire when you confronted me in your room. But that’s just my opinion. And am I really so tense? Come on, Agent Prim and Preppy? Really?” Once again, Cole took the name personally and was self-reflecting.

  “Okay, how about a superhero nickname? You are a hero, you know.”

  “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

  “Wow, did you just call me ma’am?”

  “Sorry, it’s automatic.”

  “Hmmm. You know, it’s okay to be upset about what you just did back there. It’s only human.”

  “I have to stay strong and portray myself as a steady, unwavering rock. That’s what people expect from the Secret Service.”

  “Expectations can be heavy, can’t they.”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess I’m unaccustomed to manly men being so humble. My ex-boyfriend equated manhood with power, aggression, and money. He would never have stood up and taken charge of saving that boy the way you did. I get the feeling you would have saved Noah regardless of your profession.”

  “You may be right. Though it was extremely stressful on me mentally…and physically.” Cole rubbed h
is bicep, certain he had strained something when pulling Noah up.

  “I know a way to relieve those tensions if you’d like,” Katrina offered as they climbed the switchback staircase, the shortest way back to the mansion.

  Cole shot her a discrete look of surprise. Although her words could easily be misconstrued as something sexual, her tone conveyed a girlish innocence. Still, he was intrigued. “And what might that be?”

  Katrina giggled, probably realizing how it might have sounded, “I just meant I could give you a massage,” she winced. “Okay, so maybe that does sound a little forward. Sorry.”

  “Um, I…” Cole was at a loss, again. This was the second time this woman had made him speechless.

  “When does your shift end?”

  “About now actually. I just have to switch off with Kensing. I’ll have to fill him in on Noah’s accident too.”

  “So, are you up for a massage? I specialize in massage therapy as well. This isn’t some random pick-up line, Agent Nielsen. After what you’ve just gone through, you deserve a little relaxation.”

  “Um, I just have to talk with Agent Kensing and then I want to question Trudy regarding her whereabouts during Noah’s incident. So…”

  “Are you avoiding my offer, agent?” Katrina asked head on.

  “No, I just, well…” Cole hesitated. “Yes, that sounds, um, interesting.”

  Chapter Five

  Slinking cautiously from the change-room, Katrina gauged Agent Nielsen’s level of uneasiness at around a nine out of ten. She couldn’t hide the grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth. “You can put your robe on that hook there,” she pointed.

  The muscular agent took off the bulky white robe and did as he was asked. Left in a very short white towel that barely covered his manhood, it took all of Katrina’s power to contain her gasp at the sight of him, but she hid it well, maintaining a professionalism that she hoped would put him at ease a little. As discretely as possible, she glanced at his firm thigh muscles, his bulging arms, solid chest and taught six-pack before turning toward a small wooden table that held bottles of lotions and bowls of aromatic essential oils. The vision of his body burned in her mind long after turning away from him. It was impossible to ignore the twinges of excitement she felt between her thighs. There was no denying the magnetic pull she felt toward this man.

  She turned slightly toward him, sensing his need for direction. He fidgeted and she could tell he felt exposed and vulnerable as he walked across the small private patio to the sturdy massage table that faced the nearby ocean. Katrina loved how the white canvas cloth attached to the top of each post created the illusion of a billowing white ceiling and gave the space a gentle shade. Each post had a white drape hanging down beside it that blew in the breeze like something out of a romance novel. How could he not be swept away by the tranquility of this peaceful, magical place.

  “Up here?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  She noticed him pause as he reached the white terrycloth-covered table that rested between four tall posts. It was as if he debated how to get onto the table without exposing himself and his dilemma forced her to contain a giggle. Turning away, she gave him a moment of privacy, hearing a slight grunt as he hoisted himself up.

  “Lay on your front and make yourself comfortable,” she instructed over her shoulder. She was careful to hide her growing nervousness; hopeful the slight shake in her voice hadn’t betrayed her.

  <><><>

  Cole stretched out facing down, his body unable to relax if his life depended on it. He was never one to relax anyway; it just wasn’t in his nature. Restless and apprehensive, the whole idea of a massage frazzled him, and having one performed by Katrina made his blood boil with nerves. It was a hyper-awareness bordering on nausea. Being in close proximity to her, and having her touch him no less, was beyond intense, despite the beauty of the surroundings. Cole didn’t trust his body not to respond appropriately to the situation and the thought made him even more nervous.

  “So, have you been giving people massages often?” Cole winced at the question. It sounded contrived and silly; like some sort of cheesy pick-up line.

  Katrina giggled. “Um, no. I only give Mrs. Winters massages, but I have given Gloria a few too since I arrived here. She works her butt off so I offer to give her the odd massage because she deserves them. Mr. Winters has never requested one, and neither have Jacque or Damien. Mrs. Winters was actually the first person I ever gave a massage to aside from my fellow students where I took the course. I’ve taken courses on all sorts of therapeutic treatments in my spare time. After graduating, I found myself yearning to be at the Pilates studio after a hard days work at the office.”

  “Where did you work?” Cole asked, a little surprised.

  He noticed Katrina hesitate. “Um, Kilroy Financial.”

  “Wow, as in Cameron Kilroy?”

  “Yes, the very same.”

  “Cameron Kilroy is notorious for his ruthless business merges. My brother Mackenzie is in the financial industry and Cameron Kilroy is infamous. That must have been a stressful place to work. Very cutthroat.”

  “Yes, extremely stressful. You have no idea. As soon as I would arrive at the Pilates studio I would strip off my business suit in a hurry and feel my entire body relax as I slipped on my stretchy clothes. It was like putting on a new persona, the true me. I felt like a fraud all day long until my late evening date with the reformer.”

  “The reformer, what’s that?”

  “A special machine for doing intensive Pilates.”

  “Oh,” Cole muttered. He could hear Katrina rubbing her hands together to warm them up. She walked over to the massage table and leaned against it, brushing her tummy against his arm in the process, the innocent act sending sparks to his groin. An instant later, he felt both of her soft hands come to rest on the middle of his back and he flinched. She began to move them up and down the tense muscles and Cole felt a jolt of excitement in every cell.

  “Easy, Agent Nielsen, just breathe and relax.”

  She was asking the impossible. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I mean, what if Agent Kensing sees me? I’ll never hear the end of it.” Cole twisted to look up at her. “Would I offend you if I change my mind?”

  “But you’re off duty at the moment. This isn’t your shift, so you’re free to do what you want, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  She stopped moving her hands but kept them resting on his back to which he was acutely aware. He caught her smile a little, as if she hid a secret. “What is it?” he asked, seeing the way her eyes held something back.

  “Your colleague has already had a massage with me.”

  “What?” Cole pushed himself up on an elbow and stared her down in amazement. “You mean…”

  “Yes, he already came asking for one. I obliged. But I can assure you, Agent Nielsen, he got the basic massage without the bells and whistles.”

  Cole’s mouth fell open. “Well, son of a gun, that sneaky lone wolf.” As Katrina turned and reapplied more oil to her hands, he sensed she suppressed her laughter. He thought for a moment, utterly confused. “And what might the ‘bells and whistles’ be exactly?” He was almost too afraid to ask, his mind unavoidably delving into inappropriate thoughts. He respected Katrina immensely already and knew she was professional, but there was something so intimate about getting a massage from someone as beautiful as she was. It was a delicate predicament and Cole was at once embarrassed that he’d put himself in this situation.

  “Well, the bells and whistles include what I have in those bowls and bottles over there. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, I trust you,” Cole said, locking onto her jade green eyes. She smiled gently, cautiously, and it instantly put him at ease. He sensed she was as nervous as he was and the thought was reassuring.

  “Okay, put your head down and relax and let me work my magic. Your muscles will thank me later.”

  Cole did as
instructed. If Agent Prickly could have a massage, he could too. No regrets.

  After twenty glorious minutes of deep massage, Katrina stepped away from the table and came back with a handful of invigorating salt for a body scrub. She rubbed his back in a circular motion to stimulate blood flow and release the toxins. Cole felt the tension melt away as his eyelids closed in his comfort. He had decided to let it all go, his worries about the future, his concerns over his father’s progressing Parkinson’s, everything. He was completely in the moment here in Bermuda with Katrina. There was nothing else, just this.

  Katrina took a warm towel and eased off the salt rub. She then filled her hand with oil from one of the bottles that had been warming in the afternoon sun. As her hands found his back again, Cole could smell the soothing scents of rose and cedar. The smell instantly reminded him of Katrina, for he had caught this unmistakable scent on her yesterday. Now he knew why. It was like an intense, heightened reminder of her. He moaned slightly despite himself as she rubbed the muscles in his lower back deeper.

  “This is so wonderful,” he lazily whispered, letting go of his inhibitions.

  Katrina smiled as she went even deeper into the muscle. She had him now. He was under her spell.

  Chapter Six

  In the calm, descending twilight of the evening, Gloria closed the grand oak door behind her and inspected the white envelope in her hand with curiosity. There was no return address, no stamp, nothing. It was odd.

  She walked across the large front foyer, past the open-concept living room to her right, and past the formal sitting room to her left. Although the décor was relaxed and tropical, the mansion still held the expected formalities of grandeur. Turning, she walked down a short hall until she reached an opulent mahogany door. Knocking lightly, she waited until she heard a muffled reply to enter.