But a few hard knocks and Halina had turned away. She hadn’t trusted him enough to lay her deepest troubles at his feet. In fact, she hadn’t even trusted him enough to have a sit-down, heart-to-heart about Classified Chemical. There were so many reasonable ways for her to have asked him to back off the case other than stealing his files . . .
His mind caught. The image of that cardboard file box housing the Classified files filled his mind. He pictured it in his office by his desk.
He shut off the water, toweled off, and dressed quickly. He emerged from the bathroom with a knot of anxiety burning beneath his sternum. This was a ridiculous long shot. Halina walked toward him from the opposite end of the plane and made his stomach do a twisted roll at the same time his chest tightened up.
She paused beside their seats, a thoughtful frown on her face, then took a slow look down his white button-down and khakis. Not exactly his style, but they fit well and they were comfortable. When her gaze returned to his, she was smiling in approval, a hot little simmering grin. “You clean up nice, Foster.”
“Ah, yeah . . .” he breathed. “Was thinking the same . . .” He had no idea what he was trying to say.
She wore light jeans cut low on her hips and fitted to those sleek legs. A top that could have been considered lingerie. Really just sheer fabric a shade darker than her eyes that hugged her torso like a second skin. A second skin with tiny straps over her shoulders and a bodice that cupped her breasts into sweet mounds that made Mitch’s mouth water. And sexy, strappy heels that made his mind go completely haywire.
His hands clenched and flexed at his sides, remembering how he’d had them on all that beauty last night. All that and more. But he hadn’t appreciated it near as much as he should have. Especially given the realization that he’d probably never get another chance.
Regret created swampland out of his gut. He swallowed past a tight throat.
“Took my mouth right out of the words . . .” he murmured, then realized what he’d said and laughed. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah,” she said softly, the first real smile he’d seen on her face in seven years, her Caribbean gaze sparkling with happiness. “But I like what you said better.”
She’d left her hair down, in a loose braid that she’d pulled forward over her shoulder and swooped low enough on her forehead to cover most of the colorful bruise. She still didn’t wear a speck of makeup, and that alone would have filled Mitch’s groin with blood. But when she turned to slide past the aisle seat before lowering into the one by the window, Mitch caressed a look over her shoulders and the crisscross straps that created a ladder over the upper half of her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra. His whole body had gone weak by the time his gaze paused on her ass and thighs, perfectly fitted into that soft denim.
He gripped the top of his chair to get himself to the target and not fall on his ass in the middle of the aisle. Christ, she looked edible. Completely, scrumptiously, edible.
He dropped into the chair and Dex nudged his nose under Mitch’s hand to be petted. He scratched the dog’s ears absently. Wasn’t he mad at her? Didn’t he want to ask her something important? Couldn’t he just forgo all that and pull her into his lap?
“Buckle up,” Christy called. “We’ll be in Reno in five.”
Reno. Thirty miles from Alyssa’s house. And the team. And meeting his new nephew for the first time.
Mitch’s mind came back online. “Halina.”
She looked up, her gaze distant and exhausted.
“The files on Classified Chemical that were in my office,” he said. “In a brown—”
“File box,” she finished. “What about them?”
Mitch licked his lips, tightened his gut and asked, “What did you do with them?”
Her brow tightened. Her crystal gaze went distant again. “I . . .”
He waited as long as he could stand, probably not more than a few milliseconds. “Did you destroy them? Throw them away? Shred them?”
“No. I just . . . hid them.” Her confused eyes focused on his face. “I hid them in your apartment.”
Mitch leaned on the table, his mind envisioning the apartment, every crevice, every closet, and he shook his head. “They weren’t there. When I moved out, I cleaned that place top to bottom myself. They weren’t there and they weren’t with the things I moved.”
“That’s because I hid them underneath the sink.”
Again he shook his head. “No, I cleaned—”
“Beneath the loose floorboards under the sink.”
Mitch’s spine tingled. “What loose floorboards? I didn’t know there were any loose floorboards.”
A tiny smile lifted a corner of her mouth. “That’s because you hardly ever did the dishes and you never fixed them like I suggested.”
A soft spot opened in his belly regardless of his attempt to keep it closed off. “That’s because someone always dragged me into the bedroom right after dinner and never gave me time . . .” He stopped his thoughts. Redirected his brain. “That was a big box, Halina. There’s no way it could have fit—”
“As I said, you never looked under the sink. That old landmark building had charm, but it was falling apart.”
His stomach leapt with hope. “You didn’t take them when you left? Why not?”
“No. I’d completely forgotten about them by that time. Hiding them hadn’t worked. They didn’t matter anymore.”
Mitch stared past Halina, his mind turning as he scraped his lip between his teeth.
“Mitch, the chances that they’re still there—”
“Is that something you can see?” His gaze darted back to her, hopeful.
“No, I see the futures of people, not things. What about the others on your firefighting team? Could one of them see if they’re still there?”
Quaid. He could see the papers. Maybe. If they used Cash’s son, Mateo’s, ability to pinpoint items on a map and combined it with Quaid’s ability to see clearly . . .
The plane’s tires touched the runway, bounced, and set down again for a smooth landing. He and Halina unbuckled and Christy came toward them with a smile. “You two look rested after your showers. And in better moods.”
He gave her a half smile. “You mean I passed behavior modification.”
“For now.”
He glanced at Halina’s heels and sighed with longing, then returned his gaze to Christy. “Have you looked outside?”
She grinned. “What? You mean all that snow?” Shrugged. “I couldn’t resist. I have boots for her too. Brian would like to know if you’ll be needing us again or if we’re released.”
Mitch nodded. “I’ll be needing you again. I’m not sure what time—later this afternoon or this evening, I’m guessing. If it’s going to be tomorrow, I’ll call you, but go ahead and get rooms anyway, just in case.”
Halina cuddled close to Dex in the backseat of the Suburban, waiting for Mitch on his umpteenth stop in the town of Truckee before heading up the hill to Teague and Alyssa’s house. Nelson, one of the security guards, had picked them up at the airport. With someone else in the car, Halina’s plan to argue with Mitch over his idea to fly to Washington for those papers was out. So was asking the million questions about the people she was going to meet.
“What could he need at all these places?” Halina muttered.
Nelson, a good-looking dirty blond with deep brown eyes, grinned over his shoulder from the driver’s seat. “Toys.”
She lifted her brow. “Like he doesn’t have enough.”
“For the kids.” His smile widened and a crescent dented his cheek. “If he walked in that house without something for them, they wouldn’t give a damn, but he’d feel like hell.”