were close to her, too, Tessa,” Riley quickly pointed out.
She shook her head. “I wasn’t engaged to her. Big difference. I’m talking huge.”
Riley calmly leaned closer. “And do you think my feelings for Colette make me less or more eager to bring Fletcher down?”
Tessa leaned closer, as well, until they were only inches apart. “I think it makes you a huge liability and therefore a dangerous one.”
Okay. So they’d moved on to the pull-no-punches mode. That was his preferred mode of operation anyway. “I could say the same about you. You were just as shaken by Colette’s murder as I was.”
“Yes.” Tessa repeated it and took a deep breath. “But you have a choice about being here.” She jabbed that perfectly manicured index finger against his chest and leaned in. “I. Don’t.”
It was true. On the flight from Liberia, he’d read all about it in the preliminary mission report. Riley had been waiting for nearly two years for Dr. Barton Fletcher to reopen his business.
Two long years.
And the moment it happened, Riley had started the networking that would hopefully give him a shot at getting a coveted appointment with the murdering doctor. However, Tessa beat him to him. Not intentionally. While she’d been working on another case, she’d stumbled onto a contact that had offered to help get her that appointment.
Blind luck, some would say.
But even if it was luck, fate, karma—whatever, Riley intended to use it and any other opportunity that came his way to catch Fletcher.
“What if Fletcher recognizes you, huh?” Tessa asked, obviously trying a different angle.
“He won’t. I’ve never even met the man. I was stuck in a surveillance van during Colette’s last mission.” Riley had to pause a moment before he could finish. “By the time I got to her, Fletcher and his hired assassins were long gone.”
And Colette was dead.
That brought back the flood of memories. The nightmare. He couldn’t make that nightmare go away, ever, but he could try to get some justice for Colette.
“Any other objections?” Riley challenged.
Silence.
Not coupled with a glare, either, which didn’t make it any easier to take. Because he was almost positive he saw some disgust in her eyes. And worse, he saw sympathy, as well.
“Go ahead,” Riley insisted in a rough whisper. “Say it—you blame me for Colette’s death.”
Tessa dodged his gaze and stepped to the side, the sleeve of her precisely fitted indigo-blue silk jacket sliding against his mud-splattered arm. What she didn’t do was say it. No reminder of the fact that during that deadly assignment, he’d violated regulations by not excusing himself from a mission where he’d been intimately involved with his partner.
It had been a mistake.
One he’d regret for the rest of his life.
And one he wouldn’t repeat.
“This isn’t just about Colette,” Tessa said—finally. “I don’t like working with agents who make a habit of bending the rules. And let’s face it, Riley. You don’t just bend the rules, you break them. Often.”
Not exactly the heavy-fisted admonishment she could have hurled at him. But, like her semisympathetic eyes, it pushed a few buttons. Mainly because it questioned his competence. His rogue instincts had saved his butt on several occasions—and he was good at his job.
Damn good.
“You think Dr. Barton Fletcher will play by the rules, Tessa?” Riley shook his head. “I doubt it. In fact, I think he’d prefer being investigated by a yes-sir operative who can’t or won’t think outside the box.”
She mumbled some profanity under her breath. Since he was still close enough to smell her pricey mission-required perfume, Riley had no trouble hearing that profanity—which was mainly directed at him.
So he’d made his point.
If the point he was trying to make was that they could both be smart-asses.
That wasn’t a good thing since they’d have to work together. Plus, to bring Fletcher down, he needed her help and she needed his. A little fact that obviously wouldn’t make either of them happy.
Forcing himself to do some damage control, Riley caught her silk-covered arm again and eased her around to face him.
“Look, we have different approaches to what we do.” He kept his voice level. Or rather, tried to. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. And even if it were, it’s no longer an issue. We’re partners. Period.”
Judging from Tessa’s Arctic stare, she would have almost certainly challenged that—again—if the door to the meeting room hadn’t swung open. No knock. But Riley hadn’t expected the lanky, ginger-haired guest to announce his presence with a customary knock.
The man was John Abbot, the mission commander for this particular ops, and therefore their boss.
He was also Tessa’s father.
Abbot spared them both a glance, barely, before he flipped open a laptop and dropped down into the high-backed, burgundy-leather chair at the head of the conference table. “Let’s make this quick. I have two other missions launching today—”
“Sir, I’d like to request a different partner,” Tessa interrupted.
“Request denied.” Abbot didn’t even look at her, choosing instead to keep his attention fastened to the laptop screen. “Riley McDade’s the only agent with deep-cover experience who was available on such short notice.”
“Yes. But in my opinion, Riley’s much too close to the case.”
This time John Abbot’s eyes slid in their direction. Eyes that were an exact copy of the woman stewing next to him. Oh, yeah. Abbot could do that glare thing as well as Tessa.
She’d obviously learned from the master.
“Everyone in SIU is close to the case,” Abbot snapped. “It was my call to put Riley on the team.” He paused for a heartbeat. “A call he’d better not make me regret.”
And with that gruffly barked reprimand, Abbot motioned for them to sit. It wasn’t a request, either. Riley took the chair on the left; Tessa sat on the other side of the table. Directly across. Probably so she could still glare at him.
Abbot volleyed glances at both of them. Paused. Mumbled something. “Is it necessary for me to remind you two that you’re posing as a happily married couple who desperately want a baby?”
Riley looked at her.
Tessa looked at him.
“No reminder necessary,” Riley assured their boss.
Even
