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  There was only one thing she was sure of. She had to warn Jed.

  And two of Ethan’s men were sitting in the lobby waiting for her to come down so that they could act as her bodyguards.

  That wasn’t going to happen. Not until she figured out what was going on. Straightening her shoulders, Zoë gathered her clothes and began to dress.

  BAILEY MONTGOMERY liked things to make sense. Tapping her foot, she stared out the window of her office and once again went over the information she was certain of.

  Gage Sinclair had arranged to meet Jed Calhoun at the Blue Pepper. That much she’d gotten from the tap she’d put on his phone. What she didn’t know were the details of what Jed had asked Gage to bring with him in that envelope.

  But Gage hadn’t made contact with Jed. She was sure of that. The only person Gage had spoken to was the bartender. George was his name, and he’d been very closemouthed when she’d questioned him about Zoë that night. The only thing he’d let slip was that she was Dr. Sierra Gibbs’s research assistant at Georgetown. But that had been enough for her to track down Zoë’s address.

  Perhaps Jed hadn’t shown up. She certainly hadn’t spotted him.

  But then Jed Calhoun was reputed to be a master of disguise. He could easily have been there and she’d missed him. She’d expected to finger Jed by watching Gage Sinclair. So either Gage had spotted her and aborted the meet, or Jed Calhoun had never intended to show up.

  Either way, Zoë McNamara was the key to her finding Jed Calhoun. Gage had sent the envelope to her. Why her?

  That was the question that had Bailey stumped. Once she’d gotten to the office, she’d accessed Zoë’s personnel file and verified her memory that Zoë had worked almost exclusively for Hadley Richards during the two months that she’d been at the CIA. There was nothing in her file that indicated she’d been anything but an excellent analyst.

  But there’d been those rumors she was having an affair with Hadley Richards just before she’d resigned. One thing was certain: she had to find Zoë and talk to her.

  But the woman hadn’t come home last night. Bailey glanced at her watch. It was nearly noon, and she hadn’t shown up at her house or the university.

  Number one on her agenda when she’d left Zoë McNamara’s apartment had been to hire a P.I. she knew and trusted to stake out Zoë McNamara’s house and office.

  Bailey couldn’t recall ever talking to Zoë while she’d worked for Hadley, but she’d seen her every now and then. She’d been mousier-looking back then, and she certainly hadn’t seemed to be Hadley’s usual type. Bailey’s heart went out to her. A young woman like Zoë wouldn’t have had a clue as to what she was dealing with when it came to a shark like Hadley Richards.

  Now she was in a Ph.D. program at Georgetown and working as Dr. Sierra Gibbs’s research assistant. From what Bailey had been able to gather, the two women were doing some kind of sex research.

  The only other thing she could think of to check was the work that Zoë had been doing for Hadley Richards during those two months. Her assistant, Margaret, was getting that information for her right now.

  When Bailey realized that her tapping foot had picked up its rhythm, she stilled it, and her gaze shifted to her image in the window.

  A night of tossing and turning and trying to make sense of stuff that didn’t easily separate into neat categories didn’t contribute to the General Patton image she liked to project while she was in the office. The gray linen suit and the bright turquoise blouse didn’t quite negate the dark circles underneath her eyes.

  And the frosting on the cake was the fact that she felt as if she was being followed. Oh, she hadn’t spotted anyone, but the prickling sensation now and then at the back of her neck was a sure sign. She’d sensed it when she’d left Zoë McNamara’s apartment last night and then again this morning when she’d come to work.

  The hell of it was, she hadn’t been able to spot anyone. Whoever was tailing her was good.

  Swallowing a sigh, she turned back to her desk just as Hadley Richards knocked once and strode into her office. She raised her brows. “I didn’t know you had an appointment.”

  “I do now,” he said as he closed the door and then strolled forward to settle himself in a chair.

  She remained standing.

  “I want to continue the discussion about that job you were supposed to do in Colombia.”

  Her brows shot up. “You mean the job I did in Colombia? I don’t know what more I can do to reassure you that—”

  “What were you doing at the Blue Pepper in Georgetown last night?” Hadley asked.

  Her mind was racing as Bailey sat down at her desk and met his gaze steadily. “I was having drinks with friends.”

  Hadley leaned back in his chair. “Gage Sinclair was there, too. He’s one of two men that Jed Calhoun might have contacted—if he wasn’t dead.”

  Bailey said nothing. But once again she was reminded that Hadley Richards was not a man she could afford to underestimate.

  “Do you know what I suspect?” Hadley asked.

  “No.”

  “I believe that you’re not as certain as you want me to believe that our dead man hasn’t risen. And you’re watching Gage to see if he’s been contacted. Has he been?”

  “No. How many times do I have to tell you that the last time I saw Calhoun he was lying dead in an alley in Bogotá?”

  Hadley leaned forward. “Until I believe it. If you’re wrong, or if you’re lying, I expect you to find him and correct the mistake.”

  Bailey said nothing, but the “or else” hung in the air between them.

  Hadley rose and moved to the door, turning back only when he reached it. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Well, shit, Bailey thought as the door closed behind Had. He was already watching her. She hadn’t been followed to the Blue Pepper. She was certain of that, but Hadley must have had someone tailing Gage Sinclair. And he must have had her followed when she left the restaurant. That would explain the strange feeling she’d had that she was being watched.

  Bailey frowned. It also meant that someone had followed her to Zoë McNamara’s apartment. That meant she had to find the connection between Zoë and Jed Calhoun before Hadley Richards did.

  Bailey rose and paced back to the window. Clearly, Hadley Richards didn’t trust her. If he became convinced that she’d bungled the hit on Jed Calhoun six months ago, it wasn’t likely that he was going to rely on her to take care of it this time, despite his instructions for her to correct her mistake. The question was how much time did she have?

  She glanced around her office. She certainly wasn’t going to make any arrangements from here.

  After opening her desk, she pressed a button and when the false bottom of the drawer snapped up, she retrieved two files that contained everything she knew about Jed Calhoun and Frank Medici. After placing them in her bag, she added the new file on Zoë McNamara. Then Bailey moved into her outer office. Number one on her agenda was to find out who was following her and lose them.

  “Margaret,” she said to the neat, prim woman behind the reception desk. “I have some appointments that will keep me out of the office for the rest of the day. Did you get that information I asked for?”

  “Right here.”

  When Margaret handed her the file that contained the work that Zoë had done for Hadley Richards, Bailey glanced at the first page and saw it instantly. This was the link she was looking for—and it didn’t bode well for Jed Calhoun.

  12

  ZOË PEERED OUT the back window of the taxi for the fifth time since she’d left the Woodbridge Hotel. As far as she could tell, she wasn’t being followed. She’d avoided Ethan’s men, who were waiting for her in the lobby, by taking the stairs, exiting the hotel through a side door and walking five blocks to hail a taxi.

  If she didn’t trust Ethan, she could hardly trust any men he’d sent to watch over her. And she wasn’t about to lead them to Jed. If she could find him.

 
; She turned around and leaned back against the seat, trying to relax. Her work at the CIA hadn’t involved any cloak-and-dagger stuff. What sleuthing she’d done had been from the safety of her desk. Of course, there’d been that little hum in the blood when she’d broken into something that was supposed to be “protected.” But there’d been nothing to compare to the adrenaline rush she’d experienced last night, escaping from real live thugs.

  Or being seduced by a sexy James Bond type.

  Every time she thought of Ethan, the tension in her stomach knotted tighter. And dammit, her heartbeat quickened. Why? The man had made love to her to get the envelope that had been addressed to Jed. That was pretty obvious. He’d used her, and she’d fallen for it. She wasn’t sure what made her angrier—that she’d been so gullible or that if she ran into Ethan right now, he might have very little trouble seducing her again.

  Zoë shut her eyes and sighed. What in the world was happening to her? Three weeks ago, she’d had a nice, orderly life. Her goals had been clear, and she’d been proceeding in a straightforward path to achieving them.

  She’d also been bored to death. And her sex life had consisted of doing research and engaging in daydreams with a fantasy lover—code name Lucifer!

  Then she’d met Jed Calhoun, and everything had changed. She’d never experienced that kind of instant and powerful attraction to a man before. Making love with Jed had triggered some sexual freedom in her that she couldn’t seem to get under control. She’d taken a bite of the forbidden apple. And then a second.

  Worse than that, she couldn’t seem to summon up even a shred of regret that she’d given in to temptation. In less than three days, two handsome, exciting and very different men had desired her and made love to her as if they’d meant it. She hugged the knowledge close and found she couldn’t prevent the delight that coursed through her.

  She’d spent most of her life trying to be her parents—intellectual, reserved, detached. Their entire existence was focused on getting published, getting grants, getting appointed to prestigious positions. She was pretty sure she didn’t want to go back to that kind of life.

  And she certainly didn’t want to go back to her fantasy lover. Zoë frowned. Although both Jed Calhoun and Ethan Blair shared many qualities with Lucifer.

  As the taxi swerved into one of the traffic circles D.C. was famous for, she tried to push all three men firmly out of her mind. Right now, she had to concentrate on letting Ryder Kane know that someone had stolen whatever was in that envelope intended for Jed Calhoun. It was the least she could do.

  A glance at the nearest street sign told her that Ryder Kane’s office was only a few blocks away. While she’d dressed and made her escape from the hotel, she’d decided that if anyone knew how to contact Jed, Ryder would. As the taxi pulled to the curb, she glanced up at the building that housed not only Ryder’s D.C. office but also his living space on the top floor. It was in that apartment that she’d first met Jed. Pushing the memory away, she paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  She would give Ryder the information and let him pass it on to Jed. That would be the end of it.

  Then she would go back to her office and make some decisions about her life.

  GAGE SINCLAIR glanced at his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. He’d been tailing Bailey Montgomery for two hours, ever since she’d left her office at Langley at 10:00 a.m. His hadn’t been the only car following hers. She’d eliminated the other tail in less than ten minutes, and then she’d executed a few maneuvers with her car that told him she suspected she was still being followed.

  But she hadn’t shaken him. He knew a few maneuvers himself.

  When Bailey had eventually headed toward Georgetown, he’d expected her to stop at either Zoë McNamara’s apartment or her office. That’s when Agent Montgomery surprised him. Instead of checking either place, she’d parked her car on a commercial street that boasted a cluster of trendy boutiques and she’d gone shopping.

  Thoroughly intrigued, he’d slipped into a parking space three cars down from hers, turned off his engine, rolled down his windows and waited. What was she up to? The Bailey Montgomery that he knew—and he’d known her for eight years now—wasn’t the kind of woman to take time off to go shopping on a workday.

  The first store she’d entered had been an antique gallery. Gage shifted his position and glanced at his watch. She’d been in there for fifteen minutes now. If she’d come here to meet with someone, they were either late or she was early. And just who was she meeting with? He knew from his own men that Zoë McNamara hadn’t returned to either her apartment or her office on the Georgetown campus. He also knew that Bailey was undoubtedly keeping just as close an eye on Zoë.

  Gage agreed with Jed that Bailey Montgomery held the key to the reason that he was being framed for Frank Medici’s murder. But Gage didn’t think that Bailey had played a part in the frame. He’d done his research on her before he’d actively recruited her. She was smart, capable and a straight shooter. She would follow orders like a good soldier, but she wouldn’t follow them blindly. That characteristic had played a huge part in his decision to recruit her.

  That and the fact that she had a clever and creative mind. He had no doubt she’d planted the bug he’d discovered in his office phone. His lips curved in a smile at the thought. How in the hell had she managed it? He had some pretty effective security arrangements in place. He intended to ask her—eventually. Right now, he had to focus on why she’d bugged his office in the first place. It had to mean that she’d suspected Jed Calhoun would get in touch with him. And that meant that she’d known Jed was alive.

  The question that intrigued him most was when she’d learned that little fact. Or had she known it all along? Had she purposely left Jed Calhoun alive in that alley?

  As Bailey exited the antique store and moved toward her car, he considered getting out, walking up to her and asking her that very question.

  But he knew from the dossier he’d compiled on her eight years ago that she wasn’t a woman who trusted easily. So he decided to wait. There was always the chance that Jed’s plan of breaking into her office and looking for files would work.

  In the meantime, he enjoyed watching her stride down the sidewalk. She moved with a quick, athletic grace that wasted neither time nor energy. He admired both that and the way she dressed more like a fashion plate than a CIA agent. The tailored pants and jacket were a pale gray pinstripe that did nothing to suggest masculinity, and the bright blue blouse she wore beneath it hinted at everything feminine. She wore her blond hair at chin length in one of those smooth, sleek haircuts that a man fantasized about messing up.

  She still had the same self-confidence and style that she’d had when they’d first met. It had attracted him then, and it attracted him now.

  The realization that he still had a strong yen for Bailey Montgomery had struck him full force last night at the Blue Pepper. He’d figured the time that had passed and the fact that he hadn’t seen her in so long would have taken care of it. But from the moment he’d spotted her in the bar, the attraction had been powerful and electric, just like before. Sooner or later, he was going to have to give that some thought.

  Right now, he’d better concentrate on the job. Grabbing his paper off the seat, he drew it up to block her view of his face as she turned from depositing a package in her car and strode down the sidewalk in his direction. Directly across from where he was parked, she took a quick right turn into another store. A swift glance told him it sold women’s undergarments—the kind designed to destroy a man’s brain cells.

  His gaze lingered on the frothy bits of lace and silk on display in the window. Though he’d never given much thought to what Bailey Montgomery wore beneath those neatly tailored suits, he did now.

  Through the window, he watched her select a handful of creamy-colored lace and walk to the back of the store. To a dressing room, he supposed. That was all the stimulation his imagination needed to slip into
a fantasy. He might have put some effort into stifling it, but what the hell. Tailing people had some very dull moments. A man had to keep his mind occupied somehow.

  Leaning back against the seat, Gage cleared his mind and pictured Bailey Montgomery slipping out of her jacket and draping it over the back of a chair. Next came the belt. He pictured her unbuckling it and drawing it slowly out of the loops. Her hands, with those long, slender fingers, would deal with the buttons and then the zipper. A pleasant warmth stole through him as he imagined her lowering the zipper, inch by inch. The slacks slid into a pool around her feet.

  One look at those long, slender legs made Gage’s mouth water, and heat flooded his body. When her fingers began to unfasten her blouse, his blood began to hammer in a rhythm that picked up speed as each button slipped free.

  Finally, the blue silk joined the slacks at her feet. Now all she wore was a wispy black lace bra and panties.

  His mouth went dry as he absorbed the contrast of black lace and skin the color of alabaster. It would feel smooth as glass, soft as rose petals. A man would give up a lot to get his hands on it. To explore it slowly and mold every inch of it.

  He could even smell her now. It was the same elusive scent she’d had all those years ago—something exotic and unexpected, like a flower one might come upon in a steamy, hot jungle.

  “Put your hands on the wheel and keep them there.”

  The clipped, no-nonsense tone snapped him back from his erotic fantasy, and he swiveled his head to stare at a fully clothed Bailey Montgomery. She had a small revolver pointed at him.

  “I’ll use it. Put your hands on the steering wheel, Sinclair,” Bailey repeated as she used her free hand to release the lock and open the passenger door.

  That was the trouble with fantasies, Gage thought. There was always a price to pay. If he hadn’t been so distracted by her he would have known just what she was doing. And he had to hand it to her, it was a very skillful maneuver. She’d led him here so she could get his license plate and get a trace run on it. Then she’d made her move.