they headed over to their table.
“Two .” Dylan held up two fingers just in case she couldn’t hear him over the noise.
Paul nodded to them. “Sorry, the patio filled up early.”
“This is fine.” Dylan pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Seriously, I thought I’d seen the last of you .” Paul leaned in, shaking his head at Dylan.
“We’re just ahead of a campaign stop.”
“Ah.” Paul kicked back and groaned. “Another high-profile visit.”
Jim shrugged. “Tricks of the trade. They’d probably be kissing Iraqi babies if they could get close enough.”
“ Hey, I saw Amir the other day,” Paul told Dylan.
“Did you? How’s he doing?”
“He hooked up with a couple of Dutch freelancers. He’s still going.”
The server brought their drinks, and a second for Barnes.
“I hope they’re treating him right . He’s fantastic.”
“The guy knows what he ’s doing, no question.” Paul studied Dylan thoughtfully. “That’s what got to you, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sending stringers out in your place. It must have killed you not to be out there with them.”
Dylan blew out a deep breath. “Yeah. I felt like a goddamned baby in a highchair, waiting to be fed information. But it beats the hell out of losing a good friend.”
Jim turned on him, perturbed. “Why do you do that to yourself? You aren’t responsible for Khalid’s death. He could have been shot anywhere, at any time.”
Dylan toyed idly with his bottle. “He was working for me.”
Now Jim glared. “You had no choice. It got too damn dangerous, and you know it. If you’d gone out, you would have put more people at risk. Not just the ones working with you either, but civilians caught in the middle had you been spotted by the wrong people.”
Paul nodded, in total agreement with the photographer. “Jim’s right. You can go without shaving, tan yourself nice and dark, but nothing’s going to fool these guys once they get a load of your baby blues. Face it, Bond, this isn’t Bosnia. You can’t go native here like you did there.”
“That’s why I put in for a transfer.”
Paul was sympathetic. “What are you doing now?”
Dylan gave him a slow smile. “I’m working on holding some pretty big feet to the fire.”
Paul’s eyebrows rose with interest. “Really? Care to share?”
“Can’t. Not yet. But I’ll send you the article once it’s written.”
“I’ll watch for it.” Paul took a swig of beer and chuckled. “You always took your fourth-estate responsibilities seriously . That’s why I trust you.”
“Me too,” Jim added, and they saluted Dylan with their brews.
***
After waking much too early on Wednesday morning only to toss and turn when she couldn’t fall back to sleep, Ariela gave up and snuck downstairs to check her computer. Looking at the clock she tried to figure out Dylan’s local time. Nine A.M .?
A jolt of excitement shot through her chest when she saw another message waiting. She needed to take a moment to mentally shore up the sandbags around her heart before opening it. To her surprise, she found herself smiling as soon as she started reading. Dylan’s tone was comfortable, playful, and sexy. This she could handle. Keep emotion out of it and just have fun. She could play along.
TO: arielap@
SUBJECT: Thinking of you
MESSAGE: Since you asked, masturbation is helping me handle the distance between us. When I close my eyes I can see you, feel and smell you, all over again. You should consider it, as a healthier alternative to alcohol. Maybe we should think about getting you a little toy for those lonely nights, if you don’t already have one. It should take the edge off a little until I can take care of your needs personally. Damn, now I wish I was alone instead of hanging around in a big rec room with a bunch of off-duty soldiers. The two senators should be arriving within the hour. I love how you taste. Dylan
She stared at the computer screen,
“Two .” Dylan held up two fingers just in case she couldn’t hear him over the noise.
Paul nodded to them. “Sorry, the patio filled up early.”
“This is fine.” Dylan pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Seriously, I thought I’d seen the last of you .” Paul leaned in, shaking his head at Dylan.
“We’re just ahead of a campaign stop.”
“Ah.” Paul kicked back and groaned. “Another high-profile visit.”
Jim shrugged. “Tricks of the trade. They’d probably be kissing Iraqi babies if they could get close enough.”
“ Hey, I saw Amir the other day,” Paul told Dylan.
“Did you? How’s he doing?”
“He hooked up with a couple of Dutch freelancers. He’s still going.”
The server brought their drinks, and a second for Barnes.
“I hope they’re treating him right . He’s fantastic.”
“The guy knows what he ’s doing, no question.” Paul studied Dylan thoughtfully. “That’s what got to you, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sending stringers out in your place. It must have killed you not to be out there with them.”
Dylan blew out a deep breath. “Yeah. I felt like a goddamned baby in a highchair, waiting to be fed information. But it beats the hell out of losing a good friend.”
Jim turned on him, perturbed. “Why do you do that to yourself? You aren’t responsible for Khalid’s death. He could have been shot anywhere, at any time.”
Dylan toyed idly with his bottle. “He was working for me.”
Now Jim glared. “You had no choice. It got too damn dangerous, and you know it. If you’d gone out, you would have put more people at risk. Not just the ones working with you either, but civilians caught in the middle had you been spotted by the wrong people.”
Paul nodded, in total agreement with the photographer. “Jim’s right. You can go without shaving, tan yourself nice and dark, but nothing’s going to fool these guys once they get a load of your baby blues. Face it, Bond, this isn’t Bosnia. You can’t go native here like you did there.”
“That’s why I put in for a transfer.”
Paul was sympathetic. “What are you doing now?”
Dylan gave him a slow smile. “I’m working on holding some pretty big feet to the fire.”
Paul’s eyebrows rose with interest. “Really? Care to share?”
“Can’t. Not yet. But I’ll send you the article once it’s written.”
“I’ll watch for it.” Paul took a swig of beer and chuckled. “You always took your fourth-estate responsibilities seriously . That’s why I trust you.”
“Me too,” Jim added, and they saluted Dylan with their brews.
***
After waking much too early on Wednesday morning only to toss and turn when she couldn’t fall back to sleep, Ariela gave up and snuck downstairs to check her computer. Looking at the clock she tried to figure out Dylan’s local time. Nine A.M .?
A jolt of excitement shot through her chest when she saw another message waiting. She needed to take a moment to mentally shore up the sandbags around her heart before opening it. To her surprise, she found herself smiling as soon as she started reading. Dylan’s tone was comfortable, playful, and sexy. This she could handle. Keep emotion out of it and just have fun. She could play along.
TO: arielap@
SUBJECT: Thinking of you
MESSAGE: Since you asked, masturbation is helping me handle the distance between us. When I close my eyes I can see you, feel and smell you, all over again. You should consider it, as a healthier alternative to alcohol. Maybe we should think about getting you a little toy for those lonely nights, if you don’t already have one. It should take the edge off a little until I can take care of your needs personally. Damn, now I wish I was alone instead of hanging around in a big rec room with a bunch of off-duty soldiers. The two senators should be arriving within the hour. I love how you taste. Dylan
She stared at the computer screen,
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