wouldn’t look good. His real background had been replaced with one so unsavory it scared even him. She’d be horrified that she’d ever gotten close enough for that kiss they had shared.
Odd, the compulsion he was feeling to spill everything to her, to assure her he wasn’t the lowlife his official records stated. Maybe he had a death wish hidden somewhere in his psyche. More likely his libido was fogging his brain. God only knew how he had resisted involvement with her two years ago. The feelings she engendered then were suddenly active again.
That lovely smile of hers combined with all that barely suppressed energy had gripped him fiercely the minute he’d set eyes on her at the initial training session. Instant accord between them, and she had felt it, too. He had nearly lost his grip on reality and offered her more than he could afford to give. Thank God, he had come to his senses in time. Still, he wouldn’t take anything in exchange for that one long, soul-deep kiss.
The girl was a chameleon, but looked great in both guises. Before when he had known her, she’d seemed the wholesome, suntanned, athletic type, maybe a girl who had a couple of brothers to toughen her up a little and make her competitive. The way she looked now, she could be belting out hard rock on stage or hanging out on street corners peddling S&M. Scary as hell, but wretchedly enticing for all that. It made him wonder which was the real Renee Leblanc.
It wasn’t entirely her looks that fascinated him, but more the way she carried herself, handled herself and met every challenge. She woke something in him that had lain dormant all his adult life. Not that he wasn’t interested in women, just that he had never before craved anything more than a very temporary hookup.
He wanted her. There was also this odd, almost compelling urge to befriend her. He couldn’t thank her for that. Hell, he didn’t make friends. He didn’t need them. But there was something about her that he knew he couldn’t leave alone. Not this time.
She had this bit of vulnerability that he figured no one saw but him, hidden as it was in those whiskey-colored eyes that would make a man as drunk as the real stuff if he drank too deeply.
Her hair had been longer and silky two years ago. Now it was chopped in a chin-length spiky hairdo he found rather silly. What man would want to run his hands through gelled spikes? Still, even that anomaly flattered her features.
Yes, she was a beauty, especially with the added fire of her attitude. Alert, interested and therefore wildly interesting. He couldn’t ignore that heavenly body, toned to slender perfection. He remembered her in the gym, slick with sweat and wearing only a sports bra and shorts. The memory threatened to activate his own sweat glands.
He had to exercise strict discipline and keep this under control. He was older now, more committed than ever to the mission he had sworn to complete and no woman was going to get in his way. Not even this one who affected him more than any other ever had. The fact that she had that effect made him slightly angry with her. Or perhaps with himself.
Mark climbed the stairs and gave the knock as she’d instructed, fully aware that she might try to kill him the instant he entered the room. It would be interesting to see which of them had benefited most by their Langley training. He was fairly sure he could take her, but not absolutely certain of it. That only added to the mystique.
She opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing him to come in. “You’re a real piece of work, Alexander. Have been for a very long time. Must have made a distinct impression on Sonny when he made those calls. Sit down,” she said, indicating the two chairs placed near the room’s one window. She remained standing. “Why was your name deleted from the course records? There is no mention of your training, training I know you had.”
“What training would that be?” He glanced meaningfully at the window, reminding her that anyone with a parabolic microphone could be listening to every word.
“Don’t worry, this place has been screened to hell and back, as well as those buildings across the street. No ears. No cameras. I’m very thorough.”
“And quite mysterious,” he commented. “Apparently you don’t even exist other than in my feverish imagination.”
Her full lips quirked at his sarcasm. “Feverish? Why, Mark, I’m so flattered.”
He smiled back. “No birth, no schooling, no employment, not even a driving license.” He recalled the ride here. “But that last bit I can well understand.”
“You might have found something under my maiden name had you bothered to ask what it is.”
Mark was already shaking his head. “You weren’t married, either. Not officially anyway.”
She strolled to the window and raked back the sheer curtain to look down at the street below. “What’s your real agenda here?”
He stood and headed for the door. “Food, bath, sleep, in that order.”
She dropped the curtain and headed his way. “There’s a café several doors down that’s open late. Food’s cheap but edible.”
He was a bit surprised at how easily she acquiesced but held the door for her to exit first. “So long as we won’t need to drive there.”
They took the stairs at a fast clip, Mark preceding her as she insisted.
He found himself actually looking forward to spending time with Renee, an unusual turn for him to take when he knew very well he ought to be working this alone. He always worked alone. He didn’t like having to worry about anyone else’s safety. Or their potential for making mistakes.
She would only get in his way, distract him, maybe even get one or both of them killed if Trip was around and in his usual form.
He thought about how ironic it was that the very lack of available information about their previous occupations in intel had virtually verified their loyalties.
What a strange world it had become. At any rate, Mark felt like celebrating the fact that he didn’t have to kill her.
They exited the building and she turned left. Mark walked beside her, confident they had a sort of truce going on.
“If the wine proves drinkable, perhaps we could have a little toast,” he suggested. “Something along the lines of good health and long life.”
“Or world peace,” she said with an inelegant snort that made him laugh.
“Ah, but then we’d both be out of work, love.”
She stopped, halting him with a hand on his arm. “Did you cross over, Alexander?”
“Did you, Leblanc?”
For a long moment, she stared into his eyes, then threw her trust at him like a fast ball. “No, I didn’t. I’m working.”
He almost groaned. Was she mad? She must be to grant him that much information without even knowing him. “So I suppose this is where I declare undying love for my country and promise to fight evil to the death?”
She inclined her head and pursed her lips. “Yeah, Mark, this is the place where you do that. Only you had better make me believe you.”
“Or you’ll do what?”
She smiled and managed to look downright
