Page 19 of A Shot at Love
“Soda?” His gaze zeroed in on hers, and her back instantly stiffened at the judgment she heard in his voice.
One word. It had taken just one word from him for her to get irritated again. Okay, maybe not the word itself, but definitely the mockery in his tone. She was all set to ask him if he had something against drinking soda, but before she could get the words out, he forced them back into her, unspoken.
“My sister Ariadne drinks soda for breakfast, too. Diet Mountain Dew by the case. Drives my mother nuts.”
Gemma’s grin came so fast she couldn’t have prevented it if she’d tried. “A girl after my own heart. And taste buds. That’s my morning wake-up drink, as well.”
“I’ll have LaRoux go pick some up,” Jon said.
“Please don’t go to any bother on my account,” she told him. “I can do without it for a day.”
The look that passed between Ky and his partner had Gemma’s internal radar kicking up. “What?” she asked, her question aimed at Ky.
Before answering, Ky uncapped the water again and took another long draught. Gemma’s nerves, frayed to begin with at the circumstances she’d been forced into, went into overdrive waiting for him to respond.
“You might need to stay here,” he said after he swallowed, “a little longer than another day or so.”
“Why? You said it wouldn’t take long to find the men responsible.”
Good Lord. Was that her voice whining like a three-year-old?
“If you’ll remember, I said it shouldn’t take long to find them.”
Gemma sliced her hand in the air. “Whatever the wording you used, your implication was it would be soon. What’s changed?”
His expression gave away nothing. He must be awfully good at his job, she thought. The average person would look at his face and see a blank wall. But Gemma wasn’t an average person. She was a trained and keen observer of subtle body language, telltale motions, and minute physical changes the average person never noticed. So, even though his face remained a mask of calm emptiness, the slight constriction of his pupils, flare of his nostrils, and tension in his fisted hands told her quite the opposite.
Ky shot a quick look at his partner. “Why don’t we all sit down?”
He pulled a chair at the table for her, waited until she grudgingly sat in it, and then took his own seat across from his partner.
“Well?” Gemma folded hands across her chest.
“I got notice just a few minutes ago that the man who attacked you, Charlie Faldo, was located this morning.”
“Where?” Jon asked.
Ky glanced at him and then back to her. “The Hudson River.”
She gasped, the noise bursting from inside her.
“He was fished out about five-thirty when a jogger on her morning run noticed something floating in the water along the waterway.”
“How?” The word came out before she could stop it.
Ky’s gaze hardened as he focused on her. “His throat was cut. Clear through to his spine. Then he was dumped.”
“Ritandi’s a big fan of slice and dice,” Jon said, as if he were discussing the weather.
Ky nodded and finished his water. “We need to keep you hidden,” he told Gemma. “Faldo was executed because he failed to kill you. Ritandi won’t stop looking for you.”
“But I don’t know anything about any of this! I never even knew his name until you told me.” Gemma bolted up from the table and backed into the counter. “Jesus!”
Ky was up and on her in an instant. “Easy,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm.
The strength she felt seep from his touch, for some unknown reason, instantly calmed her.
And irritated the hell out of her.
With a quick jerk, she pulled out of his grasp and folded her arms in front of her chest again, flattening herself against the counter ledge. Ky’s hands drifted slowly down to his sides as he took a step back. His gaze, though, never wavered from hers.
“We can keep you safe here. We just need to ride this out a little longer than anticipated.”
“What about the men who killed your agents?” Gemma asked.
“The bureau has every available agent searching for them.”
