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

equivalent of waving a big red flag with CSIS emblazoned across it.
    He’d have to be more creative.
    The parking lot outside of her building required parking passes for staff use, but if he sat in Irina’s car and looked as if he were waiting for her, no one would bother him. That was why he’d asked if he could use it. The commissionaires who acted as security guards in these places tended to notice a lot, but at the same time, weren’t uptight vigilantes about it. Unless he gave them a reason to think he was up to no good, they’d leave him alone.
    The black eye was going to be a problem however. The swelling was gone but the colors could light up a runway. The commissionaires would definitely notice him and wonder what he was up to. They’d give his description to the Port Authority at the airport terminal. The Port Authority would be able to track him straight back to CSIS in a matter of days, if not hours. The director would lynch him.
    That meant he’d continue to use Irina’s car, but he had to come up with a plan as to why he was there every day waiting for her.
    By midmorning, he had one. And it was a beauty.
    When five o’clock rolled around he had her car parked in the fire lane next to her building, the most conspicuous place he could find, watching everyone who came and went. He was more interested in the people entering at the end of the day than the ones who were leaving, but they didn’t need to know that. He stared at them all. They all stared back.
    At ten after five Irina exited through the main doors, her jacket draped over one arm, the laptop bag hanging from her shoulder and thumping against her hip. She wasn’t alone.
    The stout, pepper-haired male accompanying her might be older by a good fifteen years, possibly twenty, but Kale had no trouble identifying the guy’s interest in her—and it wasn’t for her brain. He stood too close as they talked. He made a point of touching her arm. His gaze dropped from her eyes to the twin swells beneath her tight little T-shirt, not so often as to be overt, but often enough.
    It was equally obvious that Irina was all about business. Whoever her dinner date was, this wasn’t it. Kale sighed. She had no clue. The pop-ups on her computer could very well be coming from someone in her office and she’d never figure out who it was. Not without an electronic trail she could follow.
    It was time to put his plan into action.
    He opened the car door and got out. He walked over to the main door where she and her companion were talking. She stopped in mid-sentence at the sight of him. The sun caught the surprise in her eyes, highlighting their unusual, pale shade of green.
    “Hey, babe,” he said. He draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her. Before she could recover and demand to know what he was up to, he stuck out a hand to the coworker. “Kale Martin. Friend of Irina’s.” He laid extra emphasis on the word friend .
    “George O’Brien.” He pumped Kale’s hand up and down, his grip firm, his round face curious. Disappointment lurked in the flat line of his mouth. Speculation narrowed his eyes. “Irina never mentioned she was seeing someone.”
    Kale gave her shoulders a squeeze, then released her. “She likes to keep her personal life separate from work. Don’t you, babe?”
    “Yes. We have that in common.”
    She sounded more bemused than annoyed. She was smart, quickly determining this was part of his cover—which it was. But not entirely. He’d had no reason to kiss her, or call her babe, other than that he’d enjoyed doing both.
    Her colleague wasn’t yet ready to call it a day. “So, Mr. Martin. What do you do?”
    Kale had answered this particular double-edged question too many times to take any offense. Everyone assumed because he was big, he was dumb. Most days, it suited his purposes.
    “I’m a substitute teacher. Kinesiology.”
    To an academic that translated as an unemployed gym teacher, and O’Brien couldn’t hide