Bulletproof (Unknown Identities #1) by Regan Black Page A

to keep from offending my clients.”
    “Of course.”
    “How can you be sure your first source died?”
    “That’s when the second source came forward with an obituary and a letter he or she had been provided by my first source.”
    “You’re sure it’s all on the up and up?”
    She nodded. “My first source lived in Hartford. I went to his memorial service.”
    His hands traveled up and down her arms. Her brain told her it was a reminder to relax and play the part for whoever might be watching them. Her body wanted to sink into the touch, to hell with the crowded airport and rumors of assassins in search of the bounty on her head.
    “I can’t decide if that’s brave or stupid,” he said.
    “Makes two of us,” she confessed. “In light of recent events, I’d have to go with the latter.”
    “You haven’t written any part of the story yet?”
    “No. Not even a teaser. I learned enough that I believed my source, but the bigger implications were appalling. I need confirmation and compelling evidence that I’m not being used to smear the senator before Bernie will print the story. I’d hoped for both from today’s meet. What I’m uncovering would mean prison time for the senator.”
    “Provided he doesn’t slide right through the noose.”
    “Hence the confirmation and evidence,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
    “That makes you a rare commodity.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked, but he was watching something or someone over her shoulder.
    “Well, it’s about damn time.”
    “For what?” She would have turned around, but the pressure of his palms at her waist kept her in place.
    “I’ve been waiting for someone to come at you again.”
    He sounded more than a little put out that it took this long. “You’re serious?”
    “As a heart attack.” He pressed one of the tickets into her hand and urged her toward the security line. “Let’s join the herd.”
    Having no choice Amelia moved with him, wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks. What would happen when his weapons set off the alarms? Terminals had been shut down, people had been detained, fined, and arrested for less. Beside her, John’s face was etched with grim determination.
    “Who is it?”
    He didn’t answer, but the predatory gleam in his eyes told her he’d locked in on the threat.
    Her feet felt like lead in her shoes as they shuffled forward, closer to the personnel and scanners. Oh, this was a bad idea, but they were stuck in the queue now and making an unexpected, inconvenient exit would only bring them unwanted attention. What the hell did he have in mind?
    “Here we go. Someone just spotted you here in line.”
    What? The question screeched through her mind and she clamped her mouth shut to keep from shouting.
    “Relax, Amelia.” He rubbed her shoulders, stroked his thumbs up her neck to the base of her skull. “You own the place today.”
    Her muscles went lax under the steady, sexy pressure while opposing urges went to battle inside her. She wanted to shrug off his touch for the sake of her sanity while at the same time she wanted to guide his hands to her more needy places. Maybe purr a little. “And you’re telling whoever is watching that I’m not here alone.”
    “You’re a quick learner.”
    Was that a compliment?
    “He’ll make his move before we reach the agents.”
    She willed the line to move faster. “Who? Where?” The words barely qualified as a whisper. As much as she studied the crowd she couldn’t spot the person John considered a threat.
    His fingers grazed her jaw, the pressure slight as he turned her head a fraction. “Airport employee uniform,” he murmured against her ear. “The shoes are wrong. And his eyes are flat like mine.”
    She didn’t know how he was making that assessment. ‘Flat’ was the last word she’d use to describe John’s eyes. Before her brain got swept away on a tangential search for just the right word, she noticed the abrupt change among the