Her Spy to Hold (Spy Games Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

living room looked like the inside of a dollhouse, all frilly and pink, right down to the matching sofa and loveseat. It was as if a cotton candy machine had exploded in here. He couldn’t find any crochet materials, or craft tools of any kind, so he suspected the lace doilies on the coffee and end tables had been a gift from some ancient aunt, or maybe a grandmother.
    The bookshelves filling one entire wall were another revelation. Scientific textbooks—dozens of them—dog-eared and battered, were crammed together with books on the occult.
    Like that wasn’t freaky.
    Two thick tomes on computer coding had her name on the spines. He tugged one off the shelf and flipped through the pages. Intellectually, he was no slouch. He’d graduated near the top of his class. As well as a talent for languages, he had a master’s degree in Western studies. But he was an arts major and these books were beyond him. He put the tome back.
    She fascinated him.
    Frustrated him, too. He’d done his best to be friendly. He’d made a few jokes. He’d complimented her cooking, which hadn’t been difficult. Those sandwiches were amazing. Over the protests of his man genes he hadn’t stared at her either, exhibiting amazing restraint on his part, because her flannel pajamas and robe hadn’t hidden a whole lot. Even though she was on the small side, the woman had curves. She was pretty and smart, definitely out of the ordinary, and he was attracted.
    He, on the other hand, scared the hell out of her.
    He should leave well enough alone.
    He spent the rest of the night alternating between peering from behind the curtains with his binoculars and taking short catnaps on the pink sofa. He didn’t mind shiftwork and often worked odd hours, but it always took a few days to acclimatize.
    The coffee, while as good as the sandwiches, was no match for his circadian rhythm. He woke to find the sun streaming through the living room windows and Irina hovering in the archway leading to the dining room attached to the kitchen. She was fully dressed and had her car keys in her hand, and was staring at him with an expression of uncertainty on her face as if she couldn’t quite make up her mind what to do.
    Since she was already dressed and had been staring at him, he didn’t feel too bad about taking a slow, visual inventory of her in return. He liked the high heels. They showed off a great pair of legs. The narrow skirt wasn’t nearly as prim as she no doubt intended. And she wore a snug white T-shirt under a short-sleeved red jacket that had to be her version of Friday office casual. The thick knot of light brown hair at the back of her head and its stray wisps of curls whispered sexy .
    Not simply sexy. Sexy as hell .
    Hopefully, he hadn’t been talking in his sleep, because he’d been dreaming about her. Naughty things, too.
    She was blushing as if she were reading his thoughts. Or, maybe he had been talking in his sleep, after all. He scrubbed a hand across his chin. Stubble scratched at his fingers. “What time is it?”
    “A little after seven-thirty. I need to be at the office by eight.” She hesitated. “Would you like me to make you breakfast?”
    She was like two different people. As Dr. Glasov she might be all prickly about her fancy reputation, but at home, her Irina persona seemed to have missed the whole feminist movement.
    Maybe she was just exceedingly polite.
    He swung his feet to the floor and sat up. “Thanks, but I’ll grab something at home. Let’s get you to work. Mind if we use your car? I’ll pick you up later.”
    Her office was fifteen minutes away. He’d hoped to be able to get a sense of her workplace and coworkers, but she worked from one of the hangars at the international airport. It had direct access to the runway, so security was tight. He could get inside if he wanted to because of his government clearances, but since his status on Irina’s case was unofficial, he didn’t want to try. It would be the