“I’m actually down the hall from you.” She put her hands behind her neck and stretched her back. “I slept all day, but I feel like I can sleep all night.”

“Good. Do it. You’ll be better for it.”

She looked at her watch. “How is it ten thirty already?”

Ten thirty? They had just spent the last two hours talking, and it felt like five minutes. “I have to be back at the embassy at eight.”

She nodded. “I have breakfast with my father at seven thirty.”

The elevator opened on the floor. “You should ride with us.”

She looked up at him and batted her eyes. “Still in protective mode, Captain?”

They walked down the hall until she stopped in front of room 411. As she accessed the room with her key card, he leaned against the doorframe. “I think I’ll always be in protective mode with you, Cynthia.”

“Well, that just sounds exhausting.” She opened the door and held it open with her shoulder as she turned toward him. “Thank you for joining me for dinner. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”

“Likewise.” He paused. “We’ll leave at seven, if you want a ride.”

She stepped farther back into her room. “See you at seven.”

He waited a few moments after she shut the door. He didn’t know why. Maybe he hoped she would open it again. Maybe he listened to make sure there were no sounds to indicate foul play inside. When nothing happened after several moments, he straightened and walked down the hall to his room.

Chapter
Thirteen

Cynthia’s alarm surprised her. She’d expected to wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep, but somehow, she managed to sleep until six.

She lay in bed, gazed at the ceiling ornately decorated with what looked like carved pineapples and pomegranates in the crown molding, and thought back to dinner last night. A silly smile covered her face as the image of Captain Rick Norton in shorts and a T-shirt crossed her mind. Compared to his face and arms, his legs looked very pale, but his entire body rippled with muscles.

After a long, hot shower, where she pampered herself with the amenities offered by the hotel and lathered her hair with shampoo and conditioner, she put lotion on and then her last clean outfit. She bagged her dirty clothes and set them in the hallway for housekeeping.

At seven, she went down to the lobby and found Swanson and Fisher sitting in the red chairs that flanked the fountain. They wore shorts and T-shirts. “Good morning. I hardly recognized you without your, uh, other outfits on.”

“Morning, Doc,” Fisher said. “We have uniforms back at the embassy. Unfortunately, the boots have to go back on.”

She glanced at his feet. He wore leather flip-flops. “I don’t imagine those sandals would serve you well in your line of work.”