Insider Threat (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 5) by Marliss Melton

Author:Marliss Melton [Melton, Marliss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

I am in deep kimchi, Kelly thought, heading to the kitchen to dispense a tall class of water. The splendor of their kiss broke over her anew, giving rise to goosebumps. Sure, she had sensed chemistry between them from the get-go, but that kiss had been next level.

No part of her job description entailed getting intimate with the target. The most she was supposed to do was become a confidante. So, forget it. No more kisses. But that wasn’t a satisfying solution. Wouldn’t it be smarter to use their attraction as a tool? Chuck might tell her more if he believed they were on their way to intimacy.

With oddly clumsy fingers, she prepared their lunch while keeping one eye on Chuck, whose chin sank repeatedly toward his chest only to jerk upright.

“Why don’t you stretch out on the couch?” she called. “There’s a throw right behind you.”

“I feel better sitting up.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Apparently, he could sleep fine that way, for soon the sound of his soft snores merged with the bubbling of water on her stove. Twenty minutes later, she carried his food out to him on a tray. As she bent to place the tray on the coffee table, Chuck’s eyes snapped open, and his head came up. Exhaustion had given way to an alert glow. He looked ready to take on the world.

She couldn’t stop herself from brushing back the dark brown lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Now that’s what I call a power nap.”

“Rest is a fine medicine.” His gaze traveled from her face to the food. “Wow, that looks amazing!”

“Thanks. How long has it been since you had a home-cooked meal?” She stepped away to hand him his bowl of japchae.

“Not since Christmas.”

Over Christmas, he had flown to San Diego to see his family, she recalled. “Fork or chopsticks?” She’d brought both.

“Chopsticks.”

She handed him the chopsticks, then picked up her own bowl and sat down cross-legged on the cushion next to him. “The miso’s cooling off. Dig in.”

Twirling her noodles with her fork, Kelly watched Chuck ply his chopsticks expertly, then slurp down a big helping of japchae.

“Mmm.” His eyes closed as he chewed, the muscles of his strong jaw flexing. “So good.”

The low rasp of his voice flooded her with desire. She couldn’t wait to kiss him again. “Do you ever cook for yourself?”

“Nope, I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen.”

“Cooking probably isn’t your passion. What is?”

He glanced over, smiling at a private thought.

“What’s your passion?” she repeated.

“Photography.”

She feigned astonishment. “I never would have guessed. Show me some photos. Do you have some?”

He hesitated, making her worry she was pushing too hard. But then he dug into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone.

Kelly took one look at the phone and remembered—oh, crap—the Bu was listening to everything they said. Of course, conversations not directly bearing on the investigation never got past the techs at the Club, but a talk between the target and the undercover agent was likely to get scrutinized.

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