Lisa Phillips

Double Agent


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swiped away the moisture and shoved past him.

      “Try seeing this from my perspective, Sabine. The team is shadowing the man who paid for your brother to be executed—”

      “Executed—” The word was a whisper from her mouth.

      Doug winced. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of it. You can help me find out what happened. If need be, we’ll clear your name. We both want justice. Let’s work together.”

      She shook her head. “I can’t. Christophe is dead, and I plan on getting as far from this as possible. Unless there’s something seriously incriminating on the hard drive that leads to the killer and lays out the whys of it all—which I seriously doubt—then it’s over. My brother is dead. Justice is just a vain hope.”

      “Sabine—”

      Her stomach churned. “No. I was wrong to attempt this. A man is dead. Yes, he was a criminal. And most likely responsible for Ben’s death. That means in some way justice has already been served. Let’s leave it there. Please. I’m going to turn the hard drive over to my handler and walk away.”

      Doug’s eyes were wet. “I can’t let you do that. I have to know what happened. I won’t beg for your help, but I don’t see how you can walk away and let this lie.”

      The heartbreak on his face nearly did her in. Sabine touched his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the late-day stubble. “We need time to grieve. Both of us.”

      Something flickered in his eyes, and everything changed. She drew her hand away. Her stomach plunged like an elevator at the thought of exactly what that look might mean. But she couldn’t let it penetrate the fortified walls of her heart.

      For the first time, Doug was more than her brother’s team leader. Despite what had brought them together, he was being a friend to her. Since she had few true friends, it was hard to recognize one or to trust the offer of friendship when it was given.

      Ben had reacted...badly, when she had told him what she really did for a living. Granted, he’d been thrown after finally admitting to her what his position was in the army. Delta Force.

      After he had told her that he was Special Ops, Sabine couldn’t let the opportunity pass to open up about her own occupation. How was she to know he would hit the roof when he found out her job was just as dangerous as his—maybe more so, since she didn’t have a team to back her up?

      She didn’t want to know what would have happened if Doug hadn’t been there today. She’d needed him to get her out of Parelli’s room after she realized she was going to be framed. So much for being a capable agent. Did that mean she couldn’t handle this job on her own?

      Doug pulled the cap from his head, ran his hand down his face and replaced his ball cap. “I’m sorry. You don’t need the weight of my grief, too.”

      Sabine turned away and swiped up the handle of her suitcase. “Tensions are high. Don’t sweat it.”

      “Sabine—”

      “I told you I have a plane to catch.”

      Sabine was out of her depth. Sure, she was a trained agent. She was just more of an information-gathering, bug-planting, charm-the-bad-guy-into-talking kind of spy. She was about as far from a fully armed Special Ops team as it was possible to be, despite their mutual goal of finding out who had killed Ben.

      Doug grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you leave, Sabine. You’re not going anywhere without me until I get some answers.”

       THREE

      Mistakes. That’s what it all boiled down to in Doug’s mind. His life could be summed up in a series of mistakes that never should have been made—the most recent of which stood in front of him now. He touched her elbow. It was slender, her skin smooth under his rough fingers callused from a war he had never wanted to reach her shore.

      Her head reached his chin, and her hair reflected every shade from auburn to dark chocolate. The red dress flattered her figure in a way that wasn’t suggestive. She was pure class. The color looked warm against the almost Mediterranean-rich tan of her skin. Ben had been much lighter. Doug had wondered why the siblings hadn’t looked anything alike. On the day he had asked Ben, Doug had been given a back off look. He didn’t ask again.

      Despite the feelings she evoked in him, Doug was on a mission, and emotions had no bearing. At least they weren’t supposed to. He’d have to chalk up his earlier outburst to being overcome with grief. After all, who knew the extent of her involvement in Christophe Parelli’s life, his business and his death? The quicker Doug got both of them out of here, the quicker he could find out how Sabine figured into Ben’s death. CIA or not, she’d be answering a whole lot of questions.

      After that she would be free to walk out of his life. He thought of all those get-togethers when he’d had to force himself to be cordial while everything in him hummed just from being near her. The reality of how shallow his attraction to her was hit him like a needle that burst a balloon and deflated his sense of honor.

      It seemed like his initial impression had been entirely wrong. Not about her being very good at what she did. He’d believed she was some high-powered financial type at the bank where she worked. Ben had told anyone who would listen that his sister was a big deal, traveling all over the world for her job.

      Had Ben even known the truth?

      She wasn’t the type of woman that Doug wanted to get to know. Even though just looking at her made his brain miss critical steps, Doug couldn’t let her affect him. She’d charmed her way close enough to Christophe Parelli to get his fingerprints, and Doug had no interest in a woman who used her looks to get what she wanted. Once this mission was over, they’d both get on with their lives.

      “My plane leaves in three hours.” She lowered her slim wrist. The gold bracelet didn’t look like any watch he’d ever seen. The smallest bit of fear crept on her face, despite the stubborn set to her shoulders.

      “You’ll be on it. Just as soon as we get to a safe place where you can answer some questions.”

      A click in his earpiece signaled California had something to say. “You gonna bring her over here, MacArthur?”

      Doug caught her eye. How would she react to being crowded by army operatives? She knew each of them, except Ben’s replacement. He’d seen her laugh and talk with the boys and their wives and girlfriends. Still, despite her status as a teammate’s sister, he doubted any of them would be kind now that there were questions over her involvement.

      “We’ll be there in five, California.”

      He hoped the crack in her armor, the one currently giving off waves of fear, was an indication that she’d share what she knew. Doug had no intention of interrogating her. Nor could he hurt her in any way.

      Even if it hadn’t been Sabine, he wasn’t the kind of man who did that. It didn’t line up with what he’d been taught, his personal code of ethics or his faith. All in all, that was a lot of rules, but they were good rules. Honest standards he could live by and know he got things right.

      Sabine Laduca was the antithesis of everything he stood for—a bolt of lightning. Would God create a woman for the sole purpose of throwing Doug off his game?

      Well, he might be thrown, but there was no way she would bring him down.

      If that tear she had tried to hide was anything to go by, he’d brought her grief back to the surface. There was no other choice. Doug was tempted to dial down his determination to find the truth. For the sake of this woman’s obvious pain, he could take some extra time to soothe her into sharing.

      But he wasn’t going to.

      Could she really be involved? Who even knew what the CIA was up to? In spite of his personal distaste, he had to push her. He couldn’t afford to suddenly go soft. Sabine