Jared was good for her and she was good for him. They brought out the best in each other, and they seemed to have a way of communicating that didn't require words.
Jared shifted and blinked open one eye, then the other. "Morning."
"Good morning," she said happily.
"You're watching me sleep?"
"Yes. I can't seem to get enough of you."
He gave her a lazy, sexy smile. "Right back at you." He rolled over on to his side and gave her a longer look. "What are you thinking about?"
"Taking a shower together."
"Good answer. But your expression is a bit more serious than that."
"Honestly?"
"Yes. No secrets between us."
"It's a little terrifying to think about how much I love you already. Facing bullets and bombs is difficult, but I'm trained in how to handle those situations. Love is a new one for me."
"For me, too."
"It will make us both vulnerable. It will influence our decisions. It could weaken us."
"Or make us stronger."
"You are definitely the more optimistic one in this relationship."
He brushed her hair away from her face. "I just know we're going to be good together."
"And you're the most confident."
"But you are the sexiest, the most beautiful, the most intelligent…" he said with a teasing smile. "Now, let's talk about that shower."
"I'm done talking. And the shower can wait."
Twenty-Six
Parisa finally got out of the shower around noon and had just finished blow-drying her hair when her phone rang. It was Damon. She took the phone into the bedroom and placed it on the nightstand, turning on the speaker, so Jared could hear the conversation while he finished getting dressed.
"How's it going, Damon?" she asked. "Is Isaac talking?"
"Not yet, but Sara has told us a lot. She was apparently compiling a lot of information in the hopes of one day being able to cut herself a deal."
"That's good news. And Ben?"
"He was shaken up by his father's death, by Neil's participation in the group. His mother is also distraught. We haven't gotten much out of her, but Ben has told us everything he knows, which isn't a lot. His only real involvement was getting Jasmine to give the kidnappers entrance to the consulate."
"What about Jasmine?"
"She was released from the hospital. She's staying with Westley in his penthouse, with an enormous amount of security. Anika and her mother are also there. Raj is working with the state department in regard to the civil war breaking out in Bezikstan."
"I'm glad the Kumars are here and not there, and that everyone is safe. I can't imagine what they think about Neil. He was such a good friend to them over the years."
"Everyone is shocked, that's for sure. How are you feeling?"
"I'm good. I would still like to know who sold out my location at the safe house and the shelter, though. Is Vincent still hanging around?"
"Yes. He and Deputy Director Hunt have been huddled together all morning. Peter just called me and asked me to bring you into the office. He wants to give you a personal report on what he's discovered."
"Which is what?"
"I don't know. He said I would find out when you found out, but that I could assure your safety with 100 percent certainty. How soon can you get here?"
She glanced at Jared, who was shaking his head, and giving her a warning look. "I don't know how comfortable I feel coming into the office when Vincent is clearly working with Peter. How do I know they're not both involved?"
"You don't, but I think you need to hear what the director has to say."
"All right. I'll be there in thirty minutes."
As she clicked off the phone, Jared immediately shook his head. "You can't go down there, Parisa. You could be walking into a trap."
"I don't think someone will try to kill me at the office."
"I'm coming with you."
"You can't, Jared." She saw the continued worry in his eyes. "I have to do this by myself. I need to hear what they've learned. I still have a job as an FBI agent, and I can't be scared of the people I work with. It sounds like they've figured out who was involved."
"Or they've found a scapegoat. You can't trust Vincent Rowland."
"No, I can't. But I need to play this out."
"Well, I'm coming with you—at least as far as the lobby." He put his hands on her hips. "I know you're a strong, independent, tough woman, but you're going to have to get used to the idea that I'm not going to be too far away."
"Until you have to be…when you eventually go back to work. We still have a lot to figure out, including whether we can find a place where we can both do our jobs."
He frowned. "I have some thoughts about that."
"What kind of thoughts?"
"Ones that are too long to get into now. You have a meeting to make."
* * *
Damon was waiting for her in a conference room with Deputy Director Peter Hunt and Vincent Rowland. Peter Hunt was in his early fifties with short, pepper-gray hair and brown eyes. She knew him only by reputation.
She drew in a hard breath as she shook their hands. She wasn't sure what was coming, but she was very interested to hear what they had to say.
"Agent Maxwell," Peter said, as they sat down at the table. "As you know, we've been trying to find the leak in the bureau since you were attacked early Saturday morning at our safe house."
"Have you done that?"
"We have," he indicated with a nod of his head. "It was an analyst by the name of Fatima Doyen. She grew up in Mumbai. She went to school with Isaac Naru."
"Really?" she asked, surprised by the revelation, and the very strong connection between Fatima and Isaac. "How did you find that out?"
Peter looked at Vincent. "Do you want to explain?"
"Yes," Vincent said. "First of all, I'd like to say that I'm very sorry you've been dealing with all this, Parisa, especially in the middle of everything going on with Jasmine. I'm very impressed with how you've handled yourself."
"Thank you. But I'm more interested in this analyst."
"I worked with Fatima's father many years ago. He was an FBI asset, who operated mostly out of Mumbai. But we also worked together in DC, when I was stationed there. I actually helped Fatima get her job when she joined the bureau three years ago."
"How do you know she's the one who was leaking information to Isaac?"
"I thought she was acting oddly, so I asked Peter to assign someone to tail her and get her phone and bank records. We found several large cash deposits in her account over the last two weeks, and she called Mr. Naru's cell phone two times in the past three days."
"That's damning. What does she have to say? Where is she? I want to talk to her."
"Unfortunately, that's not possible," Vincent said.
She frowned at his words. "Why not?"
"Because she killed herself early this morning. We went to her apartment to bring her in, and she was deceased, overdosed on pain pills. She left a note."
Peter pushed a file folder across the table to her. She opened it up and pulled out what appeared to be a photocopy.
The note was short and to the point: I can no longer live with myself after what I've done. I've betrayed the bureau and my country. Please know that I did what I did under duress and to protect friends that I have in Bezikstan. The only way I can bring honor back to my family is to no longer be alive to shame them. Fatima.
"May I see it?" Damon asked.
She pushed the note over to him, as she gazed back at Peter and Vincent. "Has the handwriting been analyzed?"
"It matches," Peter said. "We're still tracing the financials, but we're confident that Fatima was the leak. She was, in fact, the person who gave Damon that particular safe house."
"Is that true?" she asked Damon.
"Yes," he said, through tense lips. "I brought her into the investigation because of her ties to India and that part of
the world."
"You couldn't have known she would turn, Damon," Peter said.
"It's still a mistake," he said, as usual being very hard on himself.
"At any rate," Peter continued. "We don't believe you're in any further danger, Agent Maxwell."
"That's good to hear." She looked at Vincent, wishing she could be sure he was really on her side. "I appreciate your help on this."
"I've always felt very connected to you and Damon and the others who were Jamie's good friends. When I knew you were in trouble, I couldn't stand on the sidelines. Everyone was busy looking for Jasmine. I thought I could be more help figuring out who was after you."
"I appreciate that. Do you know how Westley and Jasmine are doing?"
"They're very happy to be together again," Vincent replied. "Jasmine feels terrible about losing the family diamond, but the Larimers are happy to see the end of that cursed stone—at least Phillip's wife is. I'm sure Phillip would have appreciated access to fifty million dollars even more. But it's done."
"I hope Jasmine doesn't hang on to that guilt; she wasn't responsible for the loss of the diamond. She didn't even want it."
"Jasmine is a kind, caring girl, and she takes things to heart. She'll be good for Westley. He can sometimes be a little hard, but when he's with her, he gets much softer."
"I'm glad they can stay together after this." She let out a breath. "So, I guess we're done."
Peter nodded. "Four members of the radical group have been arrested in London and three more in Paris. We've also rounded up two members here in New York City. They both worked at the Indian café where you found Naru. The Bezikstan government is mobilizing troops to fight the rebels and receiving financial help from their allies, including the United States."
"What's going to happen to Ben Langdon?"
"He'll be charged with aiding and abetting the kidnapping. His case will move on to the attorneys."
"And his mother?"
Peter looked at Damon to answer.
"We don't have any evidence tying Elizabeth to the group's activities," Damon said. "She claims ignorance. Ben backs up her story. Sara said she never saw Elizabeth get involved. Right now, it looks like Mrs. Langdon is in the clear, but she's going to be interrogated for some days to come."
"That will make it easier for Kenisha Kumar to know that her best friend didn't betray her," she put in. "Is there more?"
"If you'd like a job here in New York," Peter said, "we'd be happy to have you."
"That's very nice of you. I'm weighing a couple of options at the moment."
"Put us on the list."
"Thank you."
"I'll walk you out," Damon told her, as she got to her feet.
They didn't speak until they were in the elevator. Then she gave him a questioning look. "What do you think, Damon? Fatima Doyen? Do you feel confident she was the leak?"
"Vincent made a good case against her."
"Airtight. Almost too good." She paused. "Remember Bree's situation—when her FBI file showed up at an abandoned house, and a Chicago police detective committed suicide, and they thought he was the one who had somehow gotten his hands on her file, but no one could question him? It feels a little familiar."
Damon gave her a grim look. "I'll do some more digging, but while the suicide could be homicide, how would Vincent manufacture calls between Fatima and Naru?"
"Good point. Maybe I just need to let go of the idea that Vincent is trying to mess with us."
"I wouldn't let it go, but I plan to keep an eye on him, especially if he's in New York."
"He's not always here. He was in LA before Christmas when Wyatt got into trouble." She paused. "Have you heard from Diego lately?"
"Not in months."
"He's the only one of us who hasn't had a run-in with Vincent."
"I know, but he has been warned."
"It's hard to get ready when it doesn’t feel like you're the one being attacked. I only became in danger after Jasmine's kidnapping, and Vincent didn't have anything to do with that."
"At least, not that we know," Damon said. "We just need to keep our eyes open."
"We always do that."
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped into the lobby. She could see Jared pacing in front of the glass windows on the other side of the security check.
Damon followed her gaze, as they paused in the hallway. "So, what's the deal with you and the spook?"
She smiled. "I think I'm in love."
He shook his head. "That was fast."
"It's crazy, right?"
"Not really. Sophie and I made a pretty quick trip to love."
"But that was the second time around."
"Yeah, I was stupid enough to leave the first time. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. But our situation was a little easier to work out. What are you going to do? How are you going to date a spy?"
"Honestly, I don't know. What I do know is that he's important to me, and I want to make it work."
"That's all you need to know for now."
"Please, don't say need to know. I've already heard that a few times from Jared. It's a favorite line at the CIA."
"You want to love a spook, you better get used to secrets."
"We've managed to figure out a good way to be honest with each other, even amidst the secrets."
"Good. If you're going to be in the city a few days, Sophie and I would love to have you both over."
"I would love to see Sophie and for you to get to know Jared."
"Then we'll set it up."
She nodded. "Thanks for everything."
"You're welcome." He gave her a hug. "We'll talk soon."
She smiled and walked out to meet Jared. He grabbed her hand, impatience written all over his face, but he didn't ask her any questions until they had left the building. When they got to a park a block away, he pulled her under the shade of a tree and into his arms.
She leaned against him for a long moment, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne, and savoring the feel of his arms around hers. They finished the embrace with a kiss, and then he said, "Well?"
"Vincent Rowland has been looking into who might be leaking information about my whereabouts. He discovered that it was an analyst by the name of Fatima Doyen, who went to school with Isaac Naru in Mumbai."
"Seriously?" A look of surprise entered his eyes.
"Yes, and there were phone calls between Isaac and Fatima, as well as cash deposits made in her bank account."
"I sense there's a but coming."
"But she's dead. She overdosed last night. She left a suicide note apologizing for betraying her country and the bureau. She said her friends in Bezikstan were being threatened."
"So, it's all tied up with a neat bow."
She nodded, seeing the skepticism in Jared's gaze. "It seems so."
"Well, I guess that's good."
"I feel confident that I'm not in danger—at least, not at the moment. Vincent told me he had gotten involved in trying to figure out who was after me because he cares about me and Jamie's other friends. He wants us to be safe. He was very convincing. Maybe he's innocent."
"Or maybe you should keep an open mind."
"Damon and I just agreed that we should continue to do that. By the way, Damon wants us to come over for dinner one night, so you can meet Sophie, and he can get better acquainted with you."
"I'm fine with that. I like the guy."
"Me, too." She drew in a breath of chilly air and looked around at the bustling streets, teeming with people going about their days. "It's just a normal day today."
"Which is the best kind of day." Jared put his arm around her shoulders as they started to walk through the park.
"No. The best kind of day is one where you and I are together."
He smiled down at her. "Then we're going to have a lot of good days."
"I'm counting on that," she said, giving him a quick kiss, and then they headed down the street.
Epilogue
Four weeks later…
The party reminded Jared of when he'd first met Parisa. In fact, there were many of the same people present at the wedding of Jasmine Kumar and Westley Larimer. This event was much smaller than the engagement party—only family and a few friends, less than fifty people. But there was still a large buffet, plenty of champagne, and a classical pianist adding a beautiful score to the reception at the Larimer estate in South Hampton.
Jasmine and Westley had said their I do's in the backyard, and now the guests were being treated to a magnificent dinner on the covered patio. It was a cold February evening, so heat lamps and candles bathed the area in a warm glow.
As he glanced around the patio, his gaze caught on Parisa. She wore a stunning dark-red silk dress with a few beads that caught the light, her legs bare, her black heels high, her hair falling down around her shoulders in luxurious, silky waves. His pulse jumped, and he felt a rush of awareness, connection, and love for the beautiful woman who had stolen his heart at first glance.
Over the past month, they'd gotten even closer, sharing all the details of their lives, learning each other's bad habits, laughing together while watching sitcoms from the seventies, competing with each other at cards and other games, spending long nights just talking about anything and everything.
Parisa wasn't just his lover; she was his best friend. How on earth had he gotten so lucky? He probably didn’t deserve her, but he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to make her as happy as she made him.
He smiled to himself as he watched her talking to Jasmine and Anika—the friends of her youth, but also two women she'd become even closer to in the last few months. He was glad to see them smiling, laughing. It could have all ended so differently.
Parisa turned her head and caught him staring—just like she had the night of Jasmine's engagement party. She raised her champagne glass and gave him a nod, an intimate look burning up the space between them.
A moment later, she broke away from the women and walked over to join him.
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