A Question of Honor Read Online Free Page B

didn’t call you because I didn’t want to disturb you.”
    Kit remained on guard. Noah was a man of incredible insight, and it unnerved her to suspect that he probably knew as much about her as she did herself. “If we’ve got business to discuss, come on in the house. I’ve got some sun tea made. Would you like a glass?”
    “Sounds good. And yes, we’ve got business to discuss.”
    She nodded, seeing the undisguised hunger in his face. It rattled her badly. “I’m ready to work. I’ve had my fill of soap operas and crossword puzzles.”
    He walked easily beside her, and Kit admired his aura of confidence. It gave her a sense of stability when she had none left within herself. Somehow Noah Trayhern made her feel safe. Right now she didn’t want to probe the reasons why too deeply.
    “You needed this time, though,” Noah reminded her.
    “Maybe,” Kit hedged, walking into the cool interior of the small, neatly kept house. “The kitchen’s that way,” she instructed. “I’ll change into something more appropriate and be out in a minute. Why don’t you pour us some tea?”
    Noah busied himself in the kitchen. When Kit emerged from the bedroom ten minutes later, she was dressed in a pair of pale pink shorts and a sleeveless blouse. Its pink-and-fuchsia print with burgundy accents highlighted her golden skin. He found it difficult not to stare. Picking up her glass of tea, he met her halfway.
    “I like what you’ve done to your hair,” he noted, handing her the cool glass. Their fingers met and touched.
    Kit fingered the wispy bangs over her brow. She had coaxed her black hair into soft waves around her face. “Thank you,” she muttered nervously, and took the glass, barely able to endure Noah’s examination. Heat rushed into her face. My God, was she blushing? Touching her flaming cheek, Kit was at a loss for words.
    Noah fought himself, but he lost out to the driving need to touch her. He placed his hand beneath her chin and gave her an approving look. “No circles under your eyes, either.” Her flesh was soft and far too inviting. It was the shock in her eyes that forced him to drop his hand back to his side. He wasn’t behaving professionally, and that irritated him. What was it about her that invited this kind of familiarity?
    Kit’s skin tingled where Noah’s hand had fleetingly rested. Despite an initial hesitancy, she found herself responding to him like a flower parched for water, drawn helplessly to him. He seemed to put her in touch with her own vulnerability and restore the sense of femininity that had long been buried by her undercover career.
    “Come into the living room,” she said, shaken. She took a chair opposite Noah. The coffee table acted as a barrier between them, allowing her to relax slightly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I still don’t know what to make of you, Lieutenant.”
    Giving her a wry glance, he selected several groups of papers from his briefcase and spread them across the coffee table. “Call me Noah.”
    “Even in front of the DEA, FBI and CIA people?” Kit taunted. Every second spent with him was dissolving her barriers. Noah was too much like Pete, she admitted to herself. The Coast Guard officer appeared driven, probably a superachiever, just as her partner, Pete, had been. Noah reminded her too much of the recent past, but she had no way to stop his encroachment on her life, either professionally or, even more frightening, personally.
    “Even with them,” he agreed affably, hearing the disbelief in her voice. Glancing up, he said, “My crew and I work well together, Kit. They all know who’s boss and we know our responsibilities. I came out of a very tight-knit family myself, and I know the benefits of one. I apply that same philosophy to my crew.”
    She gave him a strange look. “Family?” His last name struck a memory chord within her once again.
    Noah looked up. “Why not?”
    “Wait a minute…” Kit snapped her fingers, finally