“It’s getting dark.” I looked out the window, stunned that we’d spent the entire day in bed with the exception of the multiple times we’d lounged in the adjoining bath’s oversized tub.
“Are you anxious to get out of this room?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Good. Neither am I. Are you bored, though?”
I laughed. “You can’t be serious. Bored? I can’t imagine ever being bored when I’m with you.”
His cheeks flushed, which I found adorable.
“Are you hungry?”
I rubbed my stomach. It seemed as though food was delivered to our room on the hour. “I don’t think I’ll eat again for a week.”
“Nah,” he said, grasping the back of my neck and bringing his lips to mine. “I need you well nourished.”
He sat up and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him so my head rested against his chest. “What is troubling you, my sweet Wren?”
I’d vowed I wouldn’t tell him the rest until I had to. I’d already said too much. He was beginning to matter, and if that happened, I’d no longer be in control of the situation. There weren’t many times in my life when I hadn’t had the upper hand. With men, my career, even school.
From elementary school on, I’d always been the brightest, smartest student in the room. It continued until I graduated from college, when I met “Vera,” on the same day I got my diploma.
* * *
“Kennedy?” I heard a woman’s voice say. It sounded so much like my mother, I spun around to face a woman who didn’t look the slightest bit familiar.
“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” she asked.
“No. It’s just that your voice…you sounded like my mother.” I fought against threatening tears. The last thing I’d do is cry in front of a stranger.
“I’m so sorry. Especially on a day like today. I’m sure you miss her very much.”
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a step back. How did this woman know anything about my life?
“My name is Amelia Watkins.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. “I’ve had my eye on you.”
I didn’t need to ask why. While I hadn’t recognized her, there wasn’t a woman or man in my field of study who wouldn’t know the name.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, feeling almost as though I should curtsy.
The woman pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to me. “I’m sure you want to enjoy your evening with your father and brother, celebrating your extraordinary achievements. Call me Monday, and we’ll chat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, watching the woman walk away.
There hadn’t been a single professor, class, or exam that made me as nervous as Amelia Watkins had. I was so ornery in the time between my graduation and Monday morning, that my father and brother threatened to return to Texas.
“I’m sorry, please don’t leave,” I’d begged, only to realize they were teasing me.
“I’ve never seen anyone rattle you the way this woman has,” my father said. “Remember who you are and that she came to you.”
* * *
“Where have you gone off to?” asked Wilder, running his finger down my cheek.
“I was just thinking about the first time I met Vera.”
“Is it a good story? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who is as good a storyteller as you are.”
“This one isn’t that interesting. She came to my graduation from the University of Virginia.”
“Was she a speaker?”
“Actually, no. I don’t know why she was there. And I never asked.” I shook my head. “Three days later, she offered me a job. I’ve worked for her ever since.”
“She’s quite…formidable.”
I laughed. “Perfect word. She’s also brilliant.”
“Sounds like someone else I’ve recently had the pleasure of meeting.”
“Thank you, but I’m not on her level.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. There was a reason she snapped you up before anyone else had the chance.”
“She’s my mentor.”
“It’s important to her that you’re safe.”
I shivered and pulled the blanket over me.
“I’ll relight the fire,” Wilder said, rolling off the bed and walking over to the fireplace.
The man in clothes was swoon-worthy. Naked, he was godlike. He bent down to add wood to the fire, tossed kindling on the bigger logs, and struck the match.
“Where did you learn to build a fire?”
“Uh-oh, not up to Texas standards?” he asked, stretching his body out next to mine.
“Not at all, actually. You’re very good at it.”
“Wellie. Like most everything else I learned as a child.”
“Pinch’s father?”
“That’s right.”
“I wish I could’ve met him.”
Wilder brushed a wisp of hair from my face. “You will. I’ll make sure of it the next time we’re at the abbey.”
“I thought…”
Wilder brushed my bottom lip with his finger, leaned forward, and kissed me. “Tell me,” he said, the demanding tone back in his voice, the one that set my blood on fire.
“I didn’t think I’d be back.”
“Why ever not?” he asked, backing away to look into my eyes.
“Your note. I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Wait. The note I left when I had to go to London?”
I nodded.
“I wrote that it was an urgent matter.”
I looked away when I felt my cheeks heat, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Look at me, Wren.”
Lying side by side, I could see the confusion on Wilder’s face as his eyes searched mine for answers.
“I asked you to come to bed.”
Wilder shook his head. “You didn’t.”
“All but.”
He cupped my face with his palm. “I’d very much like you to come back to Whittaker Abbey. In fact, it would please me if you became a regular visitor. Although, I can’t promise you’ll spend much time with Wellie or anyone else other than me.”
“Darrow will be disappointed.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “My sister has claimed you as her best mate.”
“Are you unhappy about that?”
“Not at all.”
I raised a brow.
“You have a brother.”
“Yes, but I don’t see what—”
“Imagine you also had a best friend who lived on your family’s ranch, someone you spent countless hours with when you were a child. Even as an adult.”
“I’m with you.”
“You find out that your brother and this imaginary best friend are seeing each other.”
“That they kept it a secret would bother me the most.”
“Not me. I would have been more than happy to remain in the dark for perpetuity.”
“Why?”
“I grew up with Pinch. Let’s just say adolescent boys…talk.”
“Have you told them how you feel?”
Wilder sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “We’re all in our thirties at this point. Is it really any of my business?”
“She cares a great deal for him, and it seems mutual.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“No, but at dinner…it seemed…”
“That’s my worry. Pinch Fulton has never been known to be monogamous.”
“Like you.”
“Touché.”
Wilder put his arms around me and rolled us both so I was on top of him. He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me.
“You’ll think I’m daft,” he said, looking into my eyes, “and you may even doubt I’m telling you the truth, but until you, I’ve never met a woman who I wanted to be monogamous with.”
Part of me wanted to hear him say it again. I wanted him to reassure me that he didn’t say that to everyone, but it would be far
too humiliating.
“Tell me, Wren.” He brushed the hair from my face a second time. “Am I worthy of your monogamy?”
I tried to roll away, but he held tight.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He rolled us both then, so his body rested on mine. “Are you sore?”
“Everywhere.”
“I see,” he said.
Wilder scooted his body down mine until his mouth was where he could lave my soreness away.
17
Wilder
On Monday, we forced ourselves out of bed and downstairs for breakfast, although Wren said she wished she didn’t have to face the staff, who knew where we’d spent the last thirty-six hours and why.
It reminded me that I’d meant to shoo Jarvis and the rest of the household away, so I could keep Wren naked all day and night.
“Oh, no,” she said when I looked up at her.
“What?”
“I know that look, and you promised me a tour of the estate this morning.”
I laughed. “I shall keep my promise. In fact, I was thinking we could ride this afternoon.”
Wren cringed.
“Not a good idea?”
She squirmed in her chair. “Maybe tomorrow.”
I laughed again and reached across the table to run my thumb over the back of her hand. “I won’t apologize.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” The expression on her face turned from playful to worried.
“What’s that look about?” I asked.
“Life, and while I would love to keep the rest of the world at bay for a little while longer, there are things happening that I need to deal with. Have you received any updates?”
“Nothing yet, but I expect I’ll hear from Shiver today.”
“Does anyone know where I am?”
I smiled. “Did you think we could hide you from Vera?”
Wren smiled too. “I’d feel better if I could speak with her.”
“Again?”
“What do you mean? I haven’t spoken with her since I left the States.”
“What about when we were at the hospital?”
Wren cringed like she had a moment ago. “I had to check in with Sanborn. For all intents and purposes, I am a junior officer at DHS.”
“Why? I mean, isn’t it common knowledge that you work for the NGA?”
Wren looked away. “Finley Harlow doesn’t work for the NGA.”
“I see.”
I stood, letting the ramifications of what she’d just said sink in.
“Evidently, the supposed connection you felt wasn’t enough for you to tell me your real name.” I was headed out of the room when she asked me to wait.
“It’s Kennedy. Kennedy King.”
I put a hand against the wall and leaned my full weight on my arm. If I hadn’t, I might’ve had to sit down.
“Wren?”
“It’s what my father called me.”
“You have flown under the radar.”
She stood and walked over to the window. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Did Shiver really think Losha would be able to walk away from United Russia easily?”
I didn’t know all the details, but what I’d been told was that Shiver’s now wife, Orina “Losha” Kuznetsov, had, at one time, a multimillion-dollar bounty on her head, in part, because she hadn’t fulfilled her mission to kill my older brother. The bounty had been lifted as part of a deal pieced together primarily by the CIA, in which United Russia, the modern-day equivalent of the KGB as well as the ruling political party, walked away with a sum purported to be in the billions. Of course, Losha’s bounty being lifted had only been a fraction of what the US got in exchange. I wasn’t sure what this had to do with Caird or with Wren’s real name.
“Does Shiver know who you are?”
“If you had stayed, you would’ve known too.”
“Rivet briefed him?”
“My assumption is that Vera briefed him between the time the prison guards found Matthew and he died.”
“Where is my brother and his family now?”
“I don’t know, Wilder, but I’m sure they’re somewhere safe.”
“Why didn’t you just return to the US? That would’ve been the logical thing to do in order to maintain your cover.”
“I did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If anyone were to check, Finley Harlow boarded a flight Saturday morning out of Heathrow.”
“Only you were being tracked, so someone knew you were at Whittaker Abbey and not on that plane.”
“Any guesses who?” she asked with a sneer.
“Sanborn?”
“Bingo. What I don’t know is whether she’s a whack-job control freak who wanted to know if I had sex with you, or if she’s associated with any foreign intelligence agencies.”
“Where is Sanborn now?”
“Remember, this is all speculation on my part since I haven’t been able to talk to anyone in Washington, but I would think she’s being interrogated.”
“In order to find out if she has any idea who you really are.”
Wren walked over and stood in front of me. Just being in her presence put me on the hit list of at least ten countries I could name off the top of my head.
“My job, then, is to keep you well hidden until Vera determines whether your cover has been compromised.”
She put her hand on my arm. “I hope you understand that I have chosen to trust you with a secret almost no one in the world knows.”
This wasn’t like before, when I’d felt emasculated because Wren told me she worked for the NGA. No, this was on an exponentially higher level. The woman who stood before me, the one I originally thought of as “cute,” was Kennedy King. The name was spoken in awed whispers by many who believed she was a composite of several people in US intelligence rather than a single person. Jesus, I couldn’t even wrap my head around the fact that I was in her presence.
“Here’s what I don’t get. Why, in the name of God, after knowing me for barely seventy-two hours, would you divulge a secret that the intelligence world has kept for ten or more years?”
Wren got close enough that I could feel her breath on my neck. “I know everything about you; I just hadn’t met you yet. I figured you deserved the same.”
I walked out of the room, praying she wouldn’t follow. I’d said I needed time before, but now I really meant it. The one person I would immediately go to with this was, according to Wren, in hiding as much as we were. I went outside, pulled my mobile out of my pocket, and called Shiver’s mobile anyway.
I almost wretched when I got a recording that the number was no longer in service. Frantically, I called Pinch and then Darrow and got the same message for both of them. I didn’t dare call Wellie. I knew better, and if I’d had my wits about me fifteen seconds ago, I wouldn’t have called Darrow either.
“Sutton,” I heard a familiar voice say, and turned to see Z walking toward me.
My gut reaction was to reach for my gun, but I’d just walked away from an hours-long sex marathon and hadn’t considered needing to be armed for breakfast.
“Why are you here?”
“I’ve been nearby, along with a number of other agents.”
“I thought you said no one would know where she was but me.”
“Now that you know who she is, you also know why I couldn’t tell you the truth.”
“How do you know I know?”
“She has an emergency button on her phone. Several, in fact. Each to alert us of varying degrees of danger.”
“Was there one specifically for me?”
Z didn’t respond, but I laughed anyway.
“Do you know I asked her how you rated a direct connection to Vera?”
“I have a name, Wilder,” I heard Wren say from behind me.
“Right. Finley Kennedy Wren Harlow King. It’s hard to know which to use
.”
“You aren’t a child, Sutton; quit behaving like one,” said Z.
“I’m leaving.” I went back into the house and upstairs to get the keys to my car. Along the way, I didn’t see a single member of my uncle’s staff. As I turned to leave—gun, keys, and identification in hand—Wren was standing in the doorway.
“You know you can’t go anywhere.”
“Bloody hell I can’t.”
“They’ll stop you.”
“Are you saying the DG of MI5 is going to shoot me?”
“If it came down to that.”
I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands.
Wren walked over. “You asked me why, after knowing you such a short amount of time, I trusted you with my secret.”
“I bloody know now, don’t I? Because I’m fucking expendable. God, I’m such an idiot.”
When I looked up, Wren was no longer in front of me. She wasn’t even in the room.
18
Wren
“I warned you,” said Z when I came downstairs.
“What is the expression you Brits use? Sod off?”
“We’re just as apt to say fuck off.”
“Then fuck off, Z.”
“Wren,” he said with a far too paternal tone in his voice.
“Don’t do that.”
“Just because you refuse to call me by the honorific, doesn’t make me any less your father.”
He walked over and put his arm around me, pulling me close. I rested my head on his shoulder and let myself cry.
He’d warned me, and I was an idiot. People like me didn’t meet someone and fall in love. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“The same thing you’d do. I wouldn’t have let it get this far if I believed otherwise.”
“I thought he was different.”
“I know,” said my father, stroking my hair.
“Now what?”
“Now there’s one more person in the world who knows who you really are, and he won’t tell a soul.”
“We have to leave.”
Z shook his head. “No one is going anywhere until we know where we stand.”
“Any word?”
“Not yet, but you’ve met Sanborn. Do you really think she’s good enough to fool you?”
The Lord and the Spy Page 10
