Secret Assignment. Paula Graves

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Five

      “Are you certain you didn’t touch anything in the service room that might have repaired the connection to the foghorn?” Gideon asked from his lookout spot on the widow’s walk. Lydia had gone to her bedroom to rest, although he doubted she’d be able to sleep much after all the excitement of the evening. But Shannon had insisted on staying with him on watch from his perch atop Stafford House.

      Despite the continuing danger and his lack of a foolproof plan to combat it, Gideon’s mind kept returning again and again to the feel of Shannon’s firm, softly rounded breast against his palm. He had never had quite so much trouble focusing on an imminent threat before. He didn’t like feeling out of control.

      “I didn’t touch anything. I barely walked into the service room before I went out on the catwalk,” Shannon insisted. “I didn’t know what I was looking for, and I thought the connector might be on the outside, where the horns are.”

      She stood at the opposite end of the front railing from him, her voice carrying lightly on the night breeze. She looked alert and businesslike, her GLOCK in its holster on her hip, the snap unfastened for easy retrieval. If she was tired from her earlier exertions, it didn’t show. Must be nice, he thought wearily, to be young.

      “That must have been loud, having it go off right by you.”

      “Scared the hell out of me,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. “And going out on that catwalk already had me on edge. Literally.”

      He followed her troubled gaze to the lighthouse, not sure whether he should feel angry that she and his boss had ventured out into the night against his express orders or glad that she’d managed, however accidentally, to sound the alarm just in time.

      “They knew the horn was a signal to Terrebonne Fire and Rescue,” he murmured. “They’ve done their homework.”

      Shannon moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. He clenched his fists on the balcony railing, quelling the urge to pull her close and warm her with the fire burning low in his own belly. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said.

      Her eyes flickered up to meet his. “In your house?”