saw the proud line of her jaw lift. Lara didn’t like Cain’s question, but Ian knew she wouldn’t address the issue with Cain in Ian’s presence. Too bad, he decided, because he would have really liked to see her take on his brother.
“For now,” Ian commented, while his gaze remained on Lara, unblinking. He rested a hip on the nearby console. “It was Lara’s doing,” he said, deliberately taunting the Irish in her. “The woman can’t leave me alone,” he added, pleased when temper whipped color into the delicate line of her cheeks and her eyes sharpened into jaded glass. And a little disappointed, he mused, when stubbornness had her biting back words that threatened to get past the generous curve of her mouth.
“Ian.” Those same lips thinned over her teeth into a vicious smile. “Drop dead.”
She slapped her hand against the door panel, then paused long enough to wait for the door to slide open.
“Lara,” Cain called. “Stop by Kate’s office. She has a few…devices…that might come in handy for your meeting.”
Kate D’Amato was Ian’s younger sister and the head of Labyrinth’s technology division. “I will.” With one nod, Lara left.
Cain shook his head after the door slid shut. “A little early in the morning for a taste of sadomasochism, isn’t it?”
Ian sheathed the razor-sharp need that swiped at his gut. Some would describe Lara as slender, willowy—the more romantic, maybe—with long, tangled curls of fire-red hair and eyes the color of the Emerald City itself.
But Lara was far from romantic. Her body, kept lean and strong from a stringent physical regime, was no more than another weapon to use when necessary.
“Beats a strong cup of coffee,” Ian growled, and because it was only his brother, letting his frustration show. “God save me from stubborn women. She deliberately set herself up to fail. It’s as if she has to keep proving to herself she’s competent. You and I both know she’s one of the best operatives here.”
“Funny thing is, we both might know it, but you continually come to her rescue.” Cain folded his arms. The sleek, tailored lines of his navy-blue suit emphasized the air of authority.
Something, Ian thought perversely, Cain was very much aware of and used to his advantage. “Up to today, I’ve done a damn good job avoiding her. Then I get your message ordering me here at 0600 hours.”
“You work for me. I can do that,” Cain reminded Ian.
“Still, you don’t have to get so much pleasure from it.”
“True,” Cain agreed before his tone grew serious. “Ian, if you need to talk, I’m all ears. Remember what I went through with Celeste?”
Ian smiled at the mention of his new sister-in-law, Celeste Pavenic-MacAlister. A tiny bit of a woman, she was the best damn profiler Labyrinth had.
A few months back she’d led Cain on a merry chase. She’d changed her identity and went into hiding to stop the President’s assassination. “You’re in love with Celeste. Big difference.”
Cain being in love was still a new concept for Ian. While Cain was the cool, collected one, their sister, Kate, was logical to a fault. As the middle sibling, Ian was the emotional one—quick to laugh, quicker to temper.
A challenging balance of personalities, their mother always said. But one that seemed to work. Because of this, Cain had been Ian’s sounding board since they were children. But for some reason, his problem with Lara was too intimate to even share with his brother. “I can handle it.” To take the bite out of his answer, Ian added, “But I appreciate the concern…and the offer. Enough to take a rain check.”
“You won’t have time for a rain check, not for the next few days anyway. You’re going on assignment. I need you to keep track of an operative.”
“Anyone I know?” Ian asked before rubbing the towel over his head. Hell, tracking had long been Ian’s specialty, so the request didn’t surprise him. It would do him good, too, to take his mind off—
“Lara.”
Ian stopped midstroke, his eyes hardened. “No.”
“It’s not a suggestion, Ian, it’s an order. You’re under contract. Remember?”
“Only for a few more months.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that watching Lara’s back should only take the rest of today,” Cain drawled.
“Is she in danger?”
“No,” Cain answered, but the word rang with caution. “Not at the moment. But my little voice is working overtime on the possibility.”
Over the years, Cain, like Kate and Ian, had learned to accept the inner warnings, to trust them. A gift from their ancestors, their father said, passed down through strong Scots blood.
“So in other words, you need a babysitter.” Ian used the agency’s slang for bodyguard with derision. “I’ve been there, done that. No thank you.” He turned his back on Cain, using the few seconds of reprieve to push back a wave of concern. “Have Quamar do it. She likes him. And it’s just the right type of mission to get him back in the groove again.” An ex-Mossad agent, Quamar Bazan was one of the few Labyrinth operatives the MacAlister brothers would trust protecting their loved ones.
“Quamar might have his eyesight back, but he hasn’t been cleared by the doctors for duty.” A few months prior, their friend had taken a gunshot to the head while protecting the President’s mother. It was a miracle he had survived. “You’re the only one I can send at this point.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to ask me that after what I just saw?” Cain glanced at the Virtual Imaging equipment.
“What you just saw was none of your business,” Ian bit out. “Pull her from the mission or assign someone else.”
“She’s neck deep in it. Pulling her now would blow months of work.”
Lara had joined Labyrinth three years prior. Ever since, she’d been neck deep in one situation or another. “Lara’s at the top of her game when the pressure’s on.”
“But this time I’m not confident her mind is in the game.”
“We are talking about Lara Mercer? All business, no personality?” The words tumbled out like dry, bitter leaves. Ian rubbed his face with both hands, ignoring the whiskers that scraped his palm. God, he was tired. Of the espionage, the endless chasing after bad guys—dealing with his feelings for Lara. “Forget I said that.”
“Ian, you’re the logical choice.”
“Trust me, Cain, there’s nothing logical about Lara and I. You don’t want to send me.” Ian reached for his gym bag to snag a cigarette, then swore. He’d quit months before, but the craving still gnawed at him.
“You’re right, I don’t.”
Ian stared at his brother for a moment. It wasn’t in Cain’s nature to jump into decisions. If anything, he was too cautious. Most
