Blaze of Glory by Catherine Mann

He
tensed
in
a
totally
different
but
no
less
uncomfortable
way.
Was
she
probing
him
for
information?
And speaking
of
probing.
    “Hell.”
    Her
lips
pursed
and
she
crossed
herself
a
second
time.
    All
right
then.
What
kind
of
spy
crossed
herself
when
a
man
cursed?
Just
to
test
her—and
maybe
for
a
little fun
because
there
hadn’t
been
any
fun
in
his
life
for…well…pretty
much
never—here
went
the
test.
“Shit, it’s
hot
as
hell
in
here.”
    Her
eyes
narrowed,
although
still
she
crossed
herself
twice,
which
rubbed
her
elbow
mighty
close
to
his source
of
discomfort,
damn
it
all.
    Alarms
still
blaring
in
the
compound
and
his
body,
he
gripped
her
shoulders.
“Be
still.”
    “Uh,
I
am.
I
mean,
I’m
trying,
but
these
high
heels
hurt
so
I
can’t
stand
in
one
position
very
long.” He
understood
well
the
concept
of
pain
and
the
need
to
fidget
and
smell
her
hair
with
its
floral
scent.
“Keep trying,
unless
you
want
to
embarrass
us
both
a
lot
more.”
    Her
voice
lowered
to
a
husky
whisper,
her
hair
tickling
his
shoulders
as
she
brought
her
lips
close
to
his
ear and
out
of
hearing
of
the
two
data
programmers
beside
them.
“Can
you
imagine
how
many
students
are making
out
right
now?”
    “You’re
not
helping
my
current
situation.”
    “Sorry.”
She
eased
back.
“Sorta.”
She
grinned.
“Okay,
not
at
all.
It’s
just
that
while,
well,
this
may
be
a
bit weird
and
so
embarrassing,
it’s
also
a
lovely
compliment.”
    “Lovely?”
He
leaned
to
whisper
in
her
ear,
making
sure
to
brush
his
fiveo’clock
shadow
across
her
cheek in
what
he
hoped
was
a
mimicking
torture.
“I’m
not
so
sure
I
like
you
calling
my
d—” Her
hand
reached
for
her
forehead
in
the
start
of
a
cross—
    “Catholic
schools?”
he
said.
    She
nodded.
    “Then
could
you
think
of
another
word
for
my
manhood?”

    “How
about
if
I
admit
it’s
ahuge
temptation?”
    Huge?
“Better.”
Much.
    Although
he
couldn’t
believe
they
were
having
this
conversation.
Sheesh.
How
old
was
she
again?
His photographic
memory
cited
her
at
thirtyeight
but
she
could
easily
pass
for
thirty.
What
was
she
doing
flirting with
a
balding
old
dog
like
him?
    And
that
brought
his
suspicions
to
the
fore
again.
There
were
many
around
here
he
couldn’t
trust.
For
now, he
could
do
nothing
more
than
play
along.
“So
should
I
start
reciting
the
periodic
table?” She
grinned
with
those
kissable
red
lips.
“I
don’t
think
that
will
help.”
    “Do
you
have
lots
of
highschool
memories
of
under
the
bleachers?
Or
locked
in
a
broom
closet
with
your boyfriend?”
    “Do
you?”

Not
hardly.
“Considering
I
graduated
high
school
at
twelve
it
would
be
pretty
perverted
if
I
did.”
    “Your
parents
must
have
been
proud
of
your
graduation
day,
taking
rolls
of
capandgown
photos.” He
didn’t
want
to
think
about
those
days
of
freakdom.
At
least
now
as
an
adult
people
didn’t
see
him
as quite
an
oddity.
“What
about
your
graduation
day?
I’m
guessing
your
parents
were
just
as
proud
of
you
at