Val stared up at him. “And if they recognize you?”
Was her concern for him or the mission? Probably both. He pushed a bit of her hair that had fallen to her cheek. The moment's intimacy was special to him, even with the stress of having his parents on board. “We laugh and claim I must be a doppelganger.”
“And the names on our tickets?”
“Did you look at the tickets?”
“No.”
“There are no names, only quarter numbers. I only gave my name to the ticket agent to retrieve the tickets. I haven’t told anyone my name, have you?”
“No. Just my first name.”
“Our passports haven’t been asked for. There’s no security on this train, and it probably won’t be until the border with China. We are Russians who are traveling in Russia.
Val grabbed his arm. “Are you sure you can handle possibly seeing your parents? You heard my side of the conversation with your mother, right.”
“I did. You sounded pleasant, and yes, I’m positive.” He pulled her into his arms. “Everything will go on as scheduled.”
“Don’t.” She pushed away. “I don’t need comforting. I need to figure this kink in the plan out.”
Smith sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t holding you to comfort you. I was holding you because I wanted to and thought I could.”
Val stopped. She dropped her head back between her shoulder blades. “Ugh.” When she straightened, she looked at him. “Okay. I’m sorry. That was a snap judgment on my part. You can hug me whenever you want as long as we aren’t actively working on a case. I have to let Guardian know they’re here.”
Smith lifted an eyebrow. “I can deal with that. How will you tell Guardian?”
Val grabbed her phone. “Damn it. There’s no internet.”
“Then we ignore them and do the job we were sent to do. Have you seen Komal or Blanton?”
“No. It seems like everyone is taking an afternoon nap or something.” She shook her head. “I was going to ask Daria if she’d get permission to take me on a tour of the rest of the train.”
“Great idea. I’ll go with you if they allow it. Until then, I’m going to play cards and have a drink. Hopefully, one or more of our targets will show their faces.” Smithson pulled down the sleeve of his cashmere jacket she’d had tailor-made for him. “My wife has good taste.”
“She damn sure does. Oh, wait.” She grabbed him. “What name should I call you?”
He shrugged. “Ivan Medvedev?”
“Okay.” She turned and paced back and forth a bit more. “This is what I’ve been thinking. Komal is a narcissist. He has to be the best, have the best, and be seen as the best. If he ever comes out of hiding, you need to one-up him in small things. Give him a reason, several reasons. He’ll look for a way to be better than you.”
“All right. I don’t see the connection.” He could irritate the man, but to what end?
“I’ve trapped men like this before. He’ll go after me. He’ll seduce me or maybe take me by force. That’s when I’ll kill him.”
“By force?” No, he wouldn’t let that happen
“Relax. I’ll let him think he has control, then turn the tables. I’ve done this before. Don’t doubt my skills.”
He didn’t like it. “You’ll let me know if you’re in trouble?” He tapped his ear.
“You’ll know, now kiss me like you mean it, Ivan. I have to go make myself irresistible.”
Smith pulled her into him and kissed her. “You already are.” The sweet taste of her was intoxicating. He broke the kiss and waited for her to open her eyes. When she did, he told her the truth that lay in his heart, “You make me crave things I’ve never allowed myself to think possible.”
Val reached up and laid her hand on his chest. “Allow yourself to believe it’s possible—with me.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m trying.”