by Dawn Atkins
“You tapped my phone,” Gage said. “I located the bug this morning.”
“I’m not the only one who knew you were there to meet him.”
That had him studying her. “You were followed?”
“I doubt it. Perhaps there were two taps on your phone.”
Gage shook his head. “No. There was only one. I did a thorough search. Someone must have followed you.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I don’t think so. I was careful. I was thinking that someone might have followed you.”
“Not a chance,” Gage said.
Bailey wiped her fingers with a napkin. “Well, we were spotted there. My boss told me that much this morning. He either knows or strongly suspects that Jed Calhoun is alive and here in D.C. And he’s keeping an eye on me.”
“It didn’t take you long to shake them loose when you left your office this morning.” Gage licked mustard off his thumb and began to gather up the trash. “Let’s take a walk.”
When she rose, he took her arm, steering her across the grass and away from the steady stream of pedestrian traffic on the pathway.
“So why is Hadley Richards having you followed? Word has it that you’re his golden girl.”
Bailey snorted. “Hardly. It’s my suspicion that I’m right in line to be his scapegoat.” She stopped then and waited for him to face her. “I want you to tell me that you’re not working for him.”
He met her eyes steadily. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told you seven years ago when we finished your training. People can lie. In the end the only thing you can trust is your instincts.”
“You also said that if I couldn’t trust anyone, couldn’t let myself go with anyone, I’d never last long in this business.”
“That, too.”
She’d been relying on her instincts ever since Hadley Richards had walked into her office and assigned her the task of taking out Jed Calhoun. And her instinct now was to trust Gage Sinclair. Jed Calhoun trusted him. She could only pray they wouldn’t both be betrayed.
Turning, she began to walk again. “Since Hadley knows or suspects Jed is alive, he also knows now that I didn’t take him out six months ago in Bogotá.”
This time it was Gage’s turn to stop and turn her to face him. “What went wrong?”
She lifted her chin. “Nothing. I made sure the hit didn’t happen. Of course, I had to make it look good. Hadley handpicked the marksman he sent with me, but I told him I would get Jed into that alley, and he was only to shoot him in the shoulder. I said I wanted to take him out. I shot Jed in the leg, and then I arranged for Jed to be taken to a private hospital. I made sure that he had papers to get out of the country once he recovered.”
“Even under orders, you didn’t carry out the hit?”
“No.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I don’t believe that Jed Calhoun killed Frank Medici. I believe he was framed.”
Gage sent her a slow smile. “Well, we’re on the same page there.”
She began to walk again. “The problem is I don’t know by whom or why. The evidence against Jed is very strong. I need to see him. I’m afraid that Hadley won’t stop until Jed is dead. I’ve got some files with me that he should see. Maybe he can find something that I’m not seeing.”
Gage laughed then, and the rich sound carried on the air.
“What?” Bailey asked.
“What if I told you that Jed is planning on breaking into your office tonight to look for Frank Medici’s file and the one you must have on him?”
She blinked. “How does he expect to break into CIA headquarters?”
Gage grinned at her. “I still do consulting work there, so I gave him the blueprints along with some ID badges and a few codes. If there are any other blocks, I’m sure that his friend Ryder Kane will get through them.”
“It’ll be a waste of their time. I’ve got the files right here in my bag.”
“I think I’m in love with you,” Gage said, taking her arm and turning her back to where he parked his car.
“Where are we going?” Bailey asked.
“How about a wedding chapel in Las Vegas? Or are you the type of woman who prefers a big wedding?”
She shot him a narrow-eyed look. “Seriously, where are we going?”
Gage sighed. “Well, if we can’t go to Vegas…what if I told you that I might know where Jed Calhoun is right now?”
She sent him a smile, the first one she’d given him. “Then I’d say lead the way.”
JED SLID A BELT through a pair of jeans he’d pulled out of Ryder’s closet and gave himself a long look in the mirror. At least now the pants wouldn’t fall down. He was going to tell Zoë he was Ethan Blair, but he wanted to set the confession up first so that she’d understand.
But would she? That was the question that set off flutters of panic in his stomach. He began to pace back and forth in the space at the foot of Ryder’s bed. She might be hurt. Of course, she would be. The woman had very little confidence in herself sexually. She’d probably think he’d used her just for laughs. Hell, maybe she had a right to that opinion. It had started out that way. He’d wanted her out of his system. And if plan A had worked out, that would have been the end of it.
But what was between them hadn’t ended. And now things had changed. He stopped to look at his image again. He had changed. And how in the hell was he supposed to tell her all that when he was still a “dead” man?
The phone rang. After striding to the bedside table, Jed picked up the receiver. “Yeah?”
“Is the coast clear or do you need more time?” Ryder asked, amusement clear in his voice.
“Give me another hour,” Jed said. A little pressure might be just what he needed to spill the truth to Zoë. “By the way, I’ve borrowed some of your clothes.”
“Not ready to appear yet in your Ethan duds?”
Jed frowned. “I’m going to tell her. Actually, I’m going to tell her everything. Thanks to me, she’s involved in this right up to her pretty little neck. She deserves to know why I almost got her killed last night.”
“You won’t get an argument from me on that score.”
“I just have to figure out a way to do it. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Ryder’s laugh was soft. “‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive!’”
“Thanks for the support,” Jed muttered.
“Oh, you’ve got that all right. You’re sloppy in love with her, pal. Those of us who’ve already taken the fall love company.”
Jed dropped the phone as if it had turned red-hot in his hand. In love? No way. He wanted Zoë more than he’d wanted any other woman. He cared for her. He wanted to protect her. Panic fluttered again in his stomach. She might be driving him crazy. But that didn’t mean he was in love with her.
Besides, when he told her that last night he’d seduced her as Ethan Blair, she would likely never speak to him again. He ran a hand through his hair. No, that wasn’t going to happen. He knew how to handle a woman.
Turning, he strode toward the door. He was going to cook her a good meal, tell her all about the mess he was in, and then—when she was feeling sorry for him—he’d confess to being Ethan Blair.
WHEN ZOË STEPPED OUT of the bathroom, it was the scent that hit her first. Garlic and something else. If she’d had any experience with food preparation, she probably could have named the other smells that were wafting toward her. All she knew was that they were wonderful.
Jed stood behind the island in the kitchen with his back to her. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a bit big and rode low on his hips, and he was chopping things and tossing them into a pan.
Her mouth began to water. For the food, she tried to tell herself. But that wasn’t entirely true. She had an equal hunger for the man. And that was ridiculous. They’d just made love twice. Once on the island counter. She only had to glance at it for her blood to hea
t. The second time had been on the floor. If she went to him now and put her arms around him, he’d make love to her again. She knew it.
Never had she elicited this kind of attraction in a man. Never had she had this kind of power. A thrill moved through her at the memories of what they’d done to each other, for each other. She should probably feel guilty for the time she’d spent with Ethan, but she didn’t. And she didn’t want to analyze that. She certainly didn’t regret it. Thanks to the two men, she’d changed.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Jed said without turning around.
“I’m starved.” She was, Zoë decided, and not just for food or even Jed Calhoun. She was hungry for life, for all the experiences she’d been avoiding because of her fears and hang-ups.
When she and Jed each moved back into their separate lives, she would have at least that, along with the memories of what they’d shared. She tried to ignore the little pain that seemed to tighten around her heart at the thought.
“I hope you like omelets.”
“I do.” She moved toward the kitchen area. What he was making looked a great deal more complicated than an omelet.
He sent a glance over his shoulder. “I could use some help with the toast. And you’d better make the coffee. Ryder says I’m lousy at it.”
“Sure. Toast and coffee are my specialties.” She hurried around the counter and plucked two pieces of toast out of the toaster, adding them to the pile he’d already started. Then she studied the coffeemaker. “I’m best at making instant.”
“A woman after my own heart. It’s fast and foolproof.”
The automatic drip pot looked pretty simple. Zoë read the directions on the bag of coffee Jed had set out, scooped grounds and poured water into the appropriate compartments, and then crossed her fingers and pressed the start button. Next to her, Jed cracked eggs and whipped them into a froth. She discovered there was an intimacy to working in the small space with him.
“Do you cook?” he asked when the eggs were in the pan and he was carefully pulling them back from the edge.
“No. My parents had a housekeeper who did the cooking. They felt that every single moment of one’s time should be devoted to more intellectual pursuits. Since I’ve been on my own, I either eat at work or buy takeout.”
He glanced at her horrified. “You don’t actually eat the stuff they dish up to the students at Georgetown?”
She shrugged. “It’s convenient.”
“It’s horrible. I bought a hot plate and started cooking in college for self-preservation.” He sent her a grin. “Most of my dishes can be made in one pan as a result.”
She studied him for a moment. “We don’t really know a lot about each other, do we?”
He met her eyes. “We know a lot about each other. We’re just a little short on the background stuff. And I assume you know at least some of that. You ran a check on me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” She could feel heat staining her cheeks.
He sent her a smile. “Good. I’d feel bad if you hadn’t at least been interested enough to do that. I did the same thing to you right after we first met in this apartment.”
“Really?” A little thrill moved through her that he would be that curious. She’d never forgotten their first meeting. They’d been working on a case involving the disappearance of a reporter for the Washington Post—a case that had put Sierra’s life in danger. And she’d felt a connection with Jed the moment she’d literally bumped into him at the front door.
Jed flipped the omelet over and lowered the flame. When he turned to her, his expression was serious. “I was attracted to you right from the first. I didn’t much like the idea of that.”
“I hated it,” Zoë said.
His smile was rueful. “Yeah. I got that. And I got a real kick out of annoying you. But when I discovered that I was becoming more and more attracted to you, and I began to fantasize about having you, it wasn’t so funny. So, I checked you out. Knowledge is power, and you were taking away some of mine.”
She simply stared at him for a moment. “I suppose I felt the same way.”
He nodded. “Good.” Then he smiled that slow smile that sent warmth through her right down to her toes. “So we at least know the basics about each other.”
“Not entirely. When I checked you out, there were a lot of files I couldn’t get into. I didn’t have the clearance.”
It shouldn’t have surprised him that she’d dug deep enough to discover the blocks. “Some of the work I’ve done for the government is classified. I didn’t even use my own name.”
Her eyes widened. “You were some kind of a secret agent?”
“That sounds a bit glamorous for the kind of work I did.”
“The envelope—it has something to do with an assignment you’re on. You don’t have to tell me—you probably can’t. I hope it’s not a matter of life and death.”
“I wish I could tell you.”
“No. Really, there’s no need, considering the nature of our relationship.” Then noticing that the coffee was ready, she located mugs and filled them. By the time she had the coffee and the toast on the island, Jed was already seated. He didn’t speak again until they were seated and she’d taken her first bite of the eggs.
“Well?” he asked.
The flavors were already filling her mouth. She barely swallowed before she cut off another bite. “It’s wonderful. I didn’t know eggs could taste this good.”
He pointed a fork at her. “They don’t if you eat them at a college or the kind of restaurant where they’ve been under a heat lamp for hours.” He lifted his mug. “Coffee’s good.”
For a few moments they ate in silence. It was only when their plates had been cleaned that Jed said, “We need to talk, Zoë.”
“Are you going to tell me what was in the envelope?”
“No. It’s about us.”
14
ZOË SET DOWN HER FORK. “If this is where you tell me that you can’t see me again, you don’t have to. I understand.”
Annoyance and something else swept through Jed. Fear? No, that was nonsense. He had been going to tell her that they wouldn’t be able to see each other—at least until he cleared his name. But there was something in her eyes and there’d been something in her tone earlier when she’d mentioned their relationship that told him she’d decided whatever they’d shared was only temporary.
Did that mean she liked Ethan better? Or had she merely used him for sex, used Ethan for sex, and was now prepared to walk away? Was that all he’d meant to her? The thought had temper rolling through him, but he tamped it down.
“Are you dumping me, Zoë?” he asked.
“We started out with an agreement that—” she waved a hand “—that we were going to have a one-time fling.”
“But you came here today.”
“Yes. To give a message to Ryder. The only reason we ran into each other was by accident.”
He couldn’t refute that. But some of his temper eased when he realized that she was interpreting the facts in the best way she could. Perhaps it was time to give her more to work with. He reached for her hand. “I do want to see you again, but my life’s complicated right now.”
“I don’t need to know all the details.”
When she tried to tug her hand free, he kept it in his. “I want to tell you what’s going on for a couple of reasons. For one, I’ve involved you in this and I’ve put you in danger.”
She stilled then and sat, waiting for him to continue.
“One of the things I do is contract work for the government, sometimes the CIA and sometimes other agencies. I don’t even use my own name. That’s why you couldn’t access some of the files. Six months ago, I was on a special assignment for the CIA in Colombia. I was to deliver a message to an undercover agent who had infiltrated a drug cartel, one of the biggest. It should have been a fairly easy assignment. Only this time something went terribly wrong.”
Zoë tightened her grip on his hand, a
nd some of his own tension eased. He went on, not mentioning names but summarizing the events from his arrival in Bogotá, to his delivery of the message, to the explosion that occurred only minutes after he’d left the bar. Then he told her about meeting another agent in an alley, being shot, and waking up in the small hospital. “So,” he said, “as far as anyone knows, I’m still dead. And the only way I can come back to life is to find out who really killed that man and clear my name.”
Zoë said nothing when he was finished. She merely stared at him. He could tell that her mind was working. A little line had appeared on her forehead. But he didn’t know what she was thinking.
For a moment, panic gripped his stomach again. Maybe she didn’t believe he’d been framed for Frank’s murder. But she deserved to hear the rest. He had to tell her about Ethan, too. “There’s something else you should know.”
She raised her free hand to stop him. “I think I already know. I know who you really are. You’re Lucifer. That’s the code name you worked under at the CIA. I’ve read all your files and all your reports.”
It was Jed’s turn to stare. But before he could ask her how she’d learned his code name, the elevator doors opened and Ryder stepped into the apartment along with Gage Sinclair and Bailey Montgomery.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryder said, “but this is the first break we’ve had, and I wanted you to know about it.”
Jed slid off of his stool. The last thing he’d expected was to see the woman who’d shot him and left him for dead striding into Ryder Kane’s apartment. Evidently, it was his day for surprises.
ZOË’S HEAD WAS STILL spinning with the realization that Jed Calhoun was Lucifer when she turned to glance at the two people stepping out of the elevator behind Ryder Kane. The look on Jed’s face had alerted her to the fact that he wasn’t happy about the interruption.
She recognized Bailey Montgomery. They’d never had any direct contact, but the woman had been her role model when she’d been at the CIA. She didn’t know the tall, dark-haired man who walked with a slight limp. Bailey’s expression was serious, as was her companion’s.
