A Distant Shore by Karen Kingsbury (books for students to read .txt) 📕

made him sad. If she had been honest in her email, then whatever feelings she’d had for him were gone.

Jack would have to be okay with that. She was his friend—his only friend—and he was hers. From the moment he’d heard about the chance to work with her again, he had been counting down the days.

Two hours later the SUV pulled up in front of her hotel, where Eliza was waiting in the lobby.

Jack stepped out to help with her bag, but instead he couldn’t do anything but look at her. It took about two seconds to wonder if maybe everything she’d written in her email had only been a cover.

So that the next four days would be theirs alone.

She looked younger, if that were possible. Maybe after pretending for so long to be a seventeen-year-old. Or maybe it was God’s Spirit inside her. Either way, she left him unable to move or breathe. “Eliza.” That’s all he could say. Just her name.

And without another word between them, she was in his arms. “You’re really here.” She clung to him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Jack wished he could freeze time. With her, he didn’t want the sun to set, didn’t want four days to come and go with cavalier indifference.

They were still undercover, still working a honeymoon mission, so this was appropriate behavior. But he wasn’t acting. She stepped back and kissed his cheek. Slowly. “I missed you every day, Jack.”

“Me, too.” And once more he had doubts about the operation. How was he supposed to say goodbye to her again? After spending time with her at a beach resort, talking with her and holding her hand? Pretending she was his wife?

Jack tried not to think about that. He would figure it out. They had work to do, and since this was a job, he couldn’t allow himself to feel more than friendship for her. You’re a machine, Ryder. Be a machine. That was his order from Oliver. Even if it took every bit of concentration and willpower he had.

Otherwise, even a less dangerous mission, like this, could get them killed.

THEY HAD THEIR hotel keys and they were walking down the hall of the eighteenth floor to the end suite. The setup was similar to the one in the Bahamas. A single door leading to a pair of separate doors. Other honeymooners might rent the full suite simply for privacy. But the situation here was the same as before. Eliza had her room and Jack had his.

They spent an hour apart and then headed for the beach.

Surveillance from a few weeks ago on this part of the beach told Jack the operatives in a local trafficking ring were probably somewhere on the shore. Maybe working at the hotel, or serving piña coladas to the tourists.

He wore a hundred-dollar black T-shirt and white shorts. She looked stunning in a breezy blue strapless dress. Her pale blond hair was longer now, spilling halfway down her back. He took her hand and tried not to stare.

How am I supposed to do this, God? I should never have taken this mission.

With every step at her side, Jack realized how much trouble he was in. The idea of being Eliza Lawrence’s friend was dying faster than daylight. Taking this mission was the worst decision of his career.

Jack looked at her again. Or was it the best?

When they were a few yards down the beach, he turned and took her other hand, too. There weren’t words to describe the way he was drawn to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.” No one could hear their conversation, not when they were so close to the surf.

“Where did you think I’d be?” She smiled, teasing him. “This is our honeymoon.”

If only it were true. Jack eased her into his arms and held her body against his. The surf washed over their feet and he wanted to stay like that forever.

You have a job to do, Ryder. He stepped away from her and they kept walking. But a hundred yards down the beach he stopped again. He couldn’t help himself. Again he took her in his arms and this time he searched her eyes. “Can we sit on your balcony, Eliza? I’ve wanted to be with you every day since we said goodbye.”

“Yes.” She lay her head against his chest. “I’d like that very much.”

A pair of men were walking their way, paying special attention to Eliza. As if they somehow knew she was an informant. One of the men said something to the other, and they slowed their pace.

Without giving his actions a second thought, Jack took her face in his hands. “Don’t look at them, Eliza.” Then, with a barely constrained passion, slow and tender he kissed her. The way he’d wanted to kiss her since that time in the waves in Nassau. Jack had no idea if the men were informants or spies or part of a ring.

Protocol said to kiss her in this situation. So no one would doubt they were a married couple. She kissed him next, and the hunger was there for both of them. Whatever happened after this mission, one thing was certain. The kiss had proven it. They weren’t acting.

And Eliza Lawrence could never be just his friend.

THE FBI DIDN’T forbid Jack to cross the threshold into Eliza’s room. But the decision had to be mutually agreed upon. And they could only meet in a gathering room or on a balcony. Never in the bedroom.

That wouldn’t be a problem. Jack had no intention of doing anything that would compromise Eliza. Not with her past, and not with the way he was better understanding God’s will for his life. Not with his commitment to the FBI. No, he would cherish her, that alone. Friend or more. God had told him to love her, and on this trip he would show her the meaning of the word.

They sat on her balcony in two