Bridal Armor (7 page)

Sitting across from her now, as isolated as two people could be, he wondered if he’d been wrong to walk away from her.

Smart, Casey.
Go down that path now of all times.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before she returned to the topic of the investigation.

“From the beginning?” Her eyes were on her plate.

“If that’s easier for you,” he replied.

“You turned in the vials we brought out of Germany.”

“Yes.” He twirled another bite of pasta around his fork. “You saw exactly what I brought back. I still carry the receipt they gave me when I handed the case over to the lab.”

“Did you know it wasn’t a lethal strain?”

“Not until I saw the lab report months later.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Do? What could I do? I counted my blessings the chemist screwed up or exaggerated the accomplishment to make the sale to Isely.”

He watched her methodically select a bite of salad, but she didn’t eat it, just balanced it at the edge of her plate.

“Fair enough. What did you
think
about the chemist’s failure?”

“I thought if there really was a lethal strain then Isely had planned all along to double-cross the buyer and keep the real virus for his personal use or a better offer. Doesn’t the recent outbreak confirm that?”

“The recent outbreak, and a source who, based on the information, was at the original takedown in Germany, suggests you are the culprit. That you stole and sold the real virus.” She took a long drink of her water. “A ridiculous allegation.”

“And the Initiative believes that.” His stomach clenched. Of course the committee believed an anonymous source over a director with an impeccable record. He had to forcibly relax his jaw. It took him longer than it should have to be able to speak. “Who is the source?”

“There’s no name in the file.”

He pushed back from the table, unable to sit here and take this anymore. “It’s a setup.”

“I agree.”

“Who hates me that much?”

“After a few years with the committee I can say this sort of vitriol usually comes from an ex-spouse.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Fine.” He held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I don’t have a secret wife. You know I never married.” And days like this proved why he never should. “Who else even knows me that well?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I took this case to help you prove your years of success as an agent and a director are legitimate.”

He spun back to face her. “You mean to tell me a few sick people in the Middle East and a conveniently anonymous source has the committee wanting to dig into all of our cases?”

She nodded. “Sadly, yes. If someone with your authority has sold a bio-weapon they have to consider what other sensitive data might have been compromised within your purview.”

“What exactly was your assignment?”

“Exactly?”

He saw her nervous swallow. “Yes.”

“Observe the sale of the virus. Then I could intercept you and produce proof of guilt.”

“That doesn’t sound very impartial.”

“Which is why I wanted to handle this case personally.”

“Handle me.”

“If that’s how you want to think of it.” Her chin rose in a show of defiance. “Citing my familiarity with the original mission, I told them what they wanted to hear and presented an appropriate plan of action. They gave me the green light.”

“To railroad me.”

She picked up their plates and moved back to the kitchen. “Someone is gunning for you, yes. I shouldn’t have to remind you we work in the gray area, Thomas. I said what needed to be said to position myself between you and the threat.”

“Why?” It seemed like a terrible risk personally and professionally. He couldn’t fathom her motive. “Why would you do that?”

She scraped the remnants of dinner from their plates into the garbage can. “Because if you’d sold a bio-weapon for personal gain I wanted to be the one to take you out.”

He chuckled. “You could try.”

“Fortunately we don’t need to test it, since you’re innocent.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Yes.”

Her unwavering conviction after all this time surprised him. His Specialists had done plenty in that gray area she mentioned. Grabbing a dish towel, he stepped up beside her to dry the dishes as she washed them.

“Then why bring the sedative?” It had been bothering him that she claimed to trust him, yet she’d been prepared to disable him.

She drew her full lower lip between her teeth. “That was just in case they were right.”

“A few minutes ago, right there at the table,” he jerked his chin in that direction, “you said you didn’t believe the allegations.”

“Think about it, Thomas. In my place would you have taken the chance?”

“No.” He had to let it go. Female agents were trained to take precautions when they were physically outmatched. She’d been honest with him so far, he shouldn’t push the issue. He folded the dish towel into smaller and smaller rectangles, opened it up, only to repeat the process. That distinct odor, just before the car blew up, haunted him. He would have been happy to never smell it again. It punctuated his one near failure during the Isely takedown.

“But?” She caught his hands with her smaller ones, stopping the nervous movement.

“But if you had so much confidence in me, were you expecting to need that sedative for someone else?”

Chapter Nine

Johara rolled her eyes and pushed away from the counter. “You still think I hired someone to blow up the car?”

“Didn’t you? It certainly forced me to go with you.”

“You were already going with me.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. “I need you alive. Mission Recovery—good grief, this entire country—needs you alive.”

“The entire country doesn’t know who I am.”

“But someone does know you, Thomas. Or they know what you’re capable of. The sooner we figure out who it is, the sooner you’ll get to the wedding.”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

Finally.
She wanted his eyes on the information rather than on her. Those blue eyes made her remember feelings that were best locked away in the corner of her mind. Especially right now. His life—both their lives—depended on finding the truth.

More to the point, he observed and analyzed every nuance, word and gesture. It was as if he were caressing her body with nothing more than that intent gaze. Her body quivered even now.

Focus, Jo.
She retrieved her tablet, swiped the screen to pull up the folder and handed it to him. His fingers brushed hers and that heat that kept threatening to devour her fired through her senses yet again. If she survived this night with her head on straight it would be a miracle.

He sank onto the couch as he read, elbows braced on his knees, his eyes never leaving the screen.

In the field, she’d aspired to that same intense focus he gave to every minute of the mission. Not for the first time, she wondered about the men and women on his select team of Specialists. Did they admire him or resent him for being such a hard-ass? She’d only worked with him, not for him. His Specialists didn’t complain, but in their line of work everyone had secrets and vulnerabilities. Bottom line, whoever was setting up Thomas had accessed highly classified files with a justified clearance or a talented hacker. No breaches had been reported. To her, that all added up to an inside job.

No one ever wanted that to be the answer.

She might as well be reading over his shoulder; she had the file memorized. From the first memo reporting the odd outbreak, to the intel directly from the “source,” to her own notes as she tracked down the current locations of the people involved with the old mission in Germany. She’d cross-referenced the recent travel and connections of those involved five years ago, not coming up with anyone who had traveled to the Middle East. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d hit a brick wall and didn’t know how to move forward without Thomas.

When he set the tablet aside and stared into the crackling fire, her patience ran out. “Does it look like someone on the inside to you?”

He pushed a hand over his short-cropped hair and sighed. “You’re sure about the statuses on everyone who survived that mission?”

“Yes. Thanks to you there were survivors.”

Thomas pointed at the tablet. “Some thanks. Contrary to your opinion, it would seem my country wants me dead.” He pushed to his feet. “Okay. Let’s go through the paces. Who on our side of the pond has access to Whelan and why would they let him blow up the rental car if what they really want is for me to sell a bio-weapon?”

“He’s a mercenary,” she said. “He has no allegiance to anyone or any country. From the little I know about Whelan, with enough money and the right advertisement on a leading online classified ads website, he’d meet with anyone.”

“Meet him, sure, but we both know that’s not what happened. He’s been watching you, or getting intel from someone else, knowing when you’d be where.”

“The only tail I’ve seen is your man, Jason Grant.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She took two steps back from the deadly quiet tone and hard glare Thomas sent her way. “You didn’t know he was here in Denver?”

Thomas shook his head slowly.

“He was at the airport when your flight arrived.”

“That’s why you hurried us into the employee area.”

“Yes.”

“And why you asked me about Mission Recovery discipline policy.”

“Yes.” Before she could ask the next question, Thomas answered it.

“Grant’s an exemplary Specialist. I’ve never had to write up anything but praise for his missions. Holt and I are grooming him to move up when I retire and Holt becomes director.”

“I know.” At his skeptical look, she explained, “Initiative vetted and approved your choice.”

“I feel so affirmed,” he said with a small sneer.

She ignored the jab. “Any chance either Holt or Grant wants to hurry you out the door?”

“No. There’s no reason, nothing to gain for either of them.”

“Power and prestige can be enticing. A little raise in pay grade doesn’t hurt either.”

He waved her suggestion off like he was swatting a pesky fly. “Grant has a variety of skills, but he’s not that good with explosives. He’s more of the loner type.” She watched him think it through. “He did a stint with Interpol, but I don’t think he’s good enough to mimic Whelan’s signature. Besides, both he and Holt know the additional responsibility comes with additional baggage.

“Look at your own situation,” he added. “Moving up the food chain isn’t all perks.”

She bit back the retort. Arguing about how and why she’d landed the job with Initiative wouldn’t help them resolve his predicament and restore his reputation.

“The Initiative believes you’ve sold out to America’s enemies. They won’t let go of this bone without hard evidence to the contrary.”

“And we both know you can’t prove a negative.”

He was right. The same thought had been troubling her. “It’s a clever trap they’re closing on you.” She pulled her hair over her shoulder, absently twining it into a braid and unraveling it again.

“There’s always a way out. Always a loophole,” he said, staring at the fire. “Do you have a burner phone?”

“Not anymore. It was in the suitcase,” she explained. “Why?”

“Where’s that euro you found?”

“I knew you recognized the number on it.” She went to her purse and withdrew the banknote. “Who is it?”

He didn’t answer, just turned the euro back and forth then looked at his watch again.

She wanted to ask more questions, to insist he share the information she was sure he was holding back, but she had to be careful not to alienate his limited cooperation. “Are you thinking about Casey?” His niece and sister were here. They could end up targets in this trap, as well.

“No, Holt. We had check-in times scheduled.”

“Don’t you trust him to handle things while you’re away for the weekend?”

“Is that the Initiative asking or the woman stuck in a blizzard with her target?”

Her temper, usually slow to burn, surged like a rocket. She felt her cheeks flush with heat, but she refused to give him the further satisfaction of a verbal outburst. Flipping the braid behind her, she crossed her legs and studied him. She could only hope he’d lose his cool first. “For the last time, this is not an elaborate fishing expedition. What happens here, provided you don’t get dead or make contact with a terrorist, stays here.”

He stepped closer, doing his best to intimidate her with his size. It wasn’t completely ineffective, a fact that only irritated her further. He didn’t scare her, and though she didn’t think he intended to ignite the attraction she had never been able to shake, that was the result.

Ignite wasn’t the right word...he’d fanned the flames already blazing inside her.

With slow, deliberate movements, she uncrossed her legs and stood, her gaze locked with his. He didn’t give an inch, and her breasts brushed against his chest. Her nipples peaked with an aching need she couldn’t suppress.

Thomas was the one man she’d never been able to ignore. Worse than that, a few days had left her with a persistent desire that seemed would last her entire lifetime. Five years ago, she had dismissed her feelings, chalking up the intensity to a small case of hero worship. He’d been legend in the dark ops community.

But that rationale had only carried her so far. It had been too late when she’d finally understood her feelings went beyond professional respect, far deeper than a mutual attraction sparked by convenient proximity and intense circumstances.

“Do you have any insight that will help me help you?”

His shuttered gaze drifted over her face, landing as effectively as a lover’s sweet kiss on her lips. “With my case?”

Of course the case.
“Yes,” she managed to answer through a suddenly dry throat. She didn’t want to hear his insights about her on a personal level.

“I don’t think you misinterpreted anything. It’s a very thorough report.”

She counted it a professional victory and a personal loss when he stepped back. While her pulse resumed a rhythm closer to normal, she tried to keep her focus on business. So not an easy task.

“Just the allegations and launching the inquiry is bad enough for me.” He rubbed a hand over the stubble shading his jaw. “Unless we find the bastard behind the plot, it’s career-ending.”

“Now you understand why I stepped up.”

His expression was more confounded than comprehending, but he shrugged. “But why go to all this trouble to build a trap if the goal is to kill me?”

“Depends on the real end goal, I guess.”

He picked up the tablet. “Or maybe two enemies are at odds about my future.”

“I’m on your side, Thomas.”

“And the committee?”

“I believe as a majority they want to be on your side. Can you say the same for Grant and Holt?”

“Without question,” he replied.

She wasn’t sure she agreed, since he said it without making eye contact, but to argue it without hard evidence wouldn’t do any good. He was looking at the information again, combing through for the smallest kernel of intel that would give him a lead. She knew because she’d done the same thing.

He finally looked up again, setting the tablet aside. “In the morning, you should go back to D.C. I’ll take it from here.”

“No way.” She shook her head; her gut instinct told her that would be a terrible mistake. “I didn’t stick my neck out for you just to get a better view when they take you down.”

“I’ll land on my feet.” His smile was full of regrets, an expression she’d never seen before. It worried her.

“Maybe. This time I think you need someone to break the fall.”

“If you stay, it could mean the end of your career. Or worse, your life.”

The part of her that had never gotten over their brief time together wanted to believe his concern was mostly personal, but Thomas was known for his concern for anyone he sent into the field. “I can take care of myself. You know you need someone watching your back on this.”

He opened his mouth and she knew he was going to list all the times he’d managed just fine without her. Knowing it was true didn’t mean she wanted to hear it.

She pressed her fingers gently to his lips. “Don’t say it.”

He frowned.

“It would be a waste of energy,” she said. “You have a partner this time. You’ll just have to accept it.”

His lips pursed and he kissed her fingers. She yanked her hand back as if she’d been scalded. Before she could step back, he caught her around the waist and pulled her hard against his strong body.

So close, she could tally every new line bracketing his eyes, framing his mouth. The mileage had done nothing to lessen his appeal, it only strengthened her desire for him. She watched the slow descent as he brought his lips to meet hers, giving her the opportunity to duck or dodge.

Not a chance. She wanted this kiss—wanted
him
—more than she wanted her next breath. He hesitated, his lips only a whisper away and she leaned in, closing the gap. With that first soft touch, the long, empty distance between their last kiss and this one fell away. Once she’d thought time and perspective would dull her desire; instead she discovered it had intensified her longing.

For him.

The sensual heat washed over her, sizzling through her veins. She looped her arms around his neck, delighted and meeting him with equal fervor as he took the kiss deeper.

“Jo, stop.” His breath was ragged in her ear, his hands firm on her hips as he nudged her away. “Stop.”

“Why?” She blinked several times, slow to come out of the sensual fog. “Oh.” The “why” was clear in the hard set of his jaw, the knitted brows. He may have given in to the moment, but he clearly didn’t want her the way she wanted him.

Disappointment and humiliation whipped through her. She took two quick steps back. The heat from the fireplace behind her was weak compared to the burning passion he’d stirred in her blood. How could she have fallen so hard for this man?

An apology danced at the tip of her tongue, but she refused to let it out. She wasn’t sorry, not really. If he gave her the slightest hint he wanted a repeat performance, she knew she’d leap at the chance.

Pathetic but true.

“Jo, I’m—”

“Don’t say it.” If he apologized, she might go screaming out into the storm. If he told her there was someone else, she’d feel lower than she already did. If that was possible. “Waste of energy,” she quipped, managing a faint smile to go with it. “It’s better if we keep this strictly business.”

“That’s—” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he gave a jerky nod. “Fine.”

“We should make a list of people in your past, other than Whelan, who could have created that bomb.” Grateful for the tablet in her hand, she turned on the screen. Instead of the file on Thomas’s inquiry, she saw her files were open.

“You snooped through my files?” Outrage expelled the lingering heat he’d roused.

“Just in case I was wrong,” he began, slumping back onto the couch.

“About trusting me,” she finished for him.

“If it’s any consolation, it isn’t personal.”

It wasn’t. None of it. Not the snooping or the kiss. “I should be used to the derision and distrust by now.” She was an idiot.

“You mean you aren’t?”

“I guess a part of me is still naive enough to believe agents who work in the field should be used to oversight committees by now. Everyone has to answer to someone.”