Callie's Christmas Wish

She was still feeling the tug when she heard a car pull into the drive. A quick glance through the front windows confirmed Joe’s return. Uncurling, she was halfway down the hall before the bell rang. When she opened the door, he walked in looking every bit as tall and strong as he had when he arrived from Sydney yesterday, but so much sexier. Which, of course, might have something to do with the fact that she’d explored every flat plane and hard ridge of the body that went with his steel-gray eyes and square chin.

God! Was she totally insane? What woman in her right mind wouldn’t jump at Joe’s offer? Why not settle into a comfortable nest with him? Why not be there, waiting patiently, when he rolled in from one of his unspecified, no-questions-allowed assignments?

When he greeted her with a quick kiss and one of his rare smiles, her uncharacteristic self-doubt spiked again. But before she could give in to the sudden urge to tell him she was reconsidering her options, he preempted her with a brusque announcement.

“I talked to a buddy at the Defense Intelligence Agency. The International Aid to Displaced Women operation’s legit.”

“Good to know. Although...” She lifted a brow. “Did you think Carlo would invite me to work for an organization that wasn’t?”

“Doesn’t hurt to check.”

“No, I guess not. Aren’t you staying?” she asked when he made no move to shed his bomber jacket.

“Can’t. Have some things to get done before I fly out this afternoon.”

“Fly where?”

She’d blurted it out without thinking and half expected another rebuff. This time, however, Joe provided details.

“First to Rome. I told Carlo I want to review IADW’s refugee screening process before you arrive. Then to Naples. I’ll be doing some work—”

“Wait! Back up.” She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “You told Carlo that I was coming to Rome? To work at IADW?”