And what a political nightmare the past month had been! If Fieldstein and Baxter survived without imploding in on itself, it’d be a fucking miracle. Accusations had been thrown around, lots of finger pointing commenced. William hadn’t acted alone, and Mason was sure more indictments would follow. The frenzy wouldn’t end anytime soon, so Mason would keep his side of the secrecy bargain. Besides, he figured Jedrek wanted to be the one to announce it to Viola. He wouldn’t take away his friend’s chance at being a hero in the eyes of a woman he was so obviously attracted to—no matter how doomed that attraction was.
Since Mason had been forty thousand dollars richer—he would eat the other ten grand since Dave hadn’t asked for it—he’d decided to do something constructive with it rather than moving it back into an account and letting it sit there. His first thought had been to take a nice vacation, but an online search had pulled up an island property that was for sale, not for rent, and he’d fallen in love with the idea of owning a piece of paradise. He got in contact with a local real estate agent to gather some listings. The next week, he’d flown out to look at some and had made an offer on this place. It wasn’t overly large, but it was private with a wall of glass that pushed open, extending the living area out into the open. The money he’d gotten from the government was obviously nowhere near enough to cover a fraction of the costs, but that didn’t matter. It had been what pushed him into taking the plunge.
After visiting Shelby, he was positive he wanted to give their relationship a chance. He’d had to work hard to expel the bitter feelings of betrayal because, in the end, if it hadn’t been for her assignment, he would have never met her. His heart had conceded it had been worth it. It had taken his ego longer to accept that fact. But he did, completely. When he’d been ready, he’d gone to her, and she’d been so beautiful. Hell, he couldn’t remember if he’d told her that. Injured, without makeup, comfy clothes—she’d been a goddess to him. He had missed her terribly and hated the last image he had of her was that of her weakened body, sleeping in that damn hospital bed.
He was pretty sure he hadn’t told her how pretty she was, but he did tell her that he loved her. Because he did, more than anything. He’d realized that before Dave divulged his info, and the knowledge hadn’t quelled his feelings at all. If he hadn’t loved her, he wouldn’t have hurt as much when he had learned the truth.
Once he saw her, it was hard leaving things unresolved. He’d tried enticing her to join him on his vacation, but after three weeks without any word from her, he wasn’t holding out hope. That was okay. He didn’t get where he was today by being impatient. In a week, he’d be back stateside, and he would decide how to proceed with her then. He wasn’t ready to give her up, but he also knew she’d been through a lot, so much so that she’d contemplated changing her career. If she needed time, he’d give it to her. Three weeks ago, he’d been prepared to walk away if what had developed between them had been one-sided. Now he knew that wasn’t the case, and he wasn’t willing to walk anymore. Time, he could give her.
His glass of scotch almost empty, he hoisted himself up from the chaise lounge on the patio and turned.
The doorknob on the front door jiggled, and he froze in the opening, a fucking knot in his throat. There was only one person who knew about this place other than his agent.
She came. She fucking came to him.
He should go to her, but he was too stunned to move just yet. He stood there, watching as Shelby struggled with the door and her bags.
Once she was inside, he forced himself to move into the house from the outside. She dropped her things by the door and turned, gasping when she saw him.
“You scared me,” she said, hand over her heart…his heart—or it would be one day.
He smiled at her when he leaned over and put his empty glass on the coffee table, not taking his eyes off her. When he stood at full height again, he cocked his head to the side. “This is a private residence, ma’am. If anyone should be surprised at the presence of another, I think that should be me.”
She blinked, hesitating before propping a hand on her hip. “Well, a friend of mine suggested I come.” She smiled. “And a blonde demon of a friend threatened to adopt twelve kittens and stuff my pillows with catnip if I didn’t partake in the offer.”
“I think I like this blonde demon friend of yours.”
“She has her moments.” She winked and stepped closer to him, extending her hand. “Hi. We haven’t met. My name is Shelby Landry. I work sixty hours a week as a linguistics expert for the FBI. I speak five languages and two dialects of Chinese, but not all fluently. I’ve been studying Middle Eastern languages for about three years now since there’s a shortage in that area, and it would mean more money.”
Hmmm…he liked this little playful side of her. “Wow, I know a little Japanese since we have an office in Japan, but that’s it.” He shook her hand and continued to hold it. “Any other specialties up your sleeve?”
Smiled. “I can lube your chassis better than anybody you know.”
He barked out a laugh.
“And you are?” she asked with a sexy as hell inquisitive look.
“Oh, my apologies. My name is Mason Showalter. I’m an investment banker, hedge
