Dead No More

As she caught her lower lip between her teeth, he couldn’t help but stare. She flipped through Rowland’s folder, stopped, turned back a page and frowned. Tossing the file aside, she bent forward and stretched for a file just beyond her reach. The neckline of her tank fell open slightly, revealing a sexy, black lace bra. Derek did a double take, staring at the soft feminine form playing peekaboo with his libido.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and swallowed hard, unable to focus. He couldn’t believe he was in the same room with Lily instead of watching her through a scope. He cringed inwardly. That sounded creepy. He took a swig of his beer. It was the truth, though, wasn’t it?

What had started as a simple mission directive—keep an eye on Lily Andrews—from Director Kennedy months ago had turned into something more. Much more. At least for Derek. He’d have to be a dead man not to notice her sex appeal, her strength and dogged determination, or how—despite the shit life had handed her—she attacked each new day with a fresh vigor, which surprised even Derek.

But he wasn’t dead.

He was alive and kicking...and every cell in his body went on full alert whenever she was near.

Now he wanted to know everything about Lily—not just what he could see through a scope. He wanted to know what made her tick. What went on behind those mesmerizing hazel eyes when they locked on to a target. It was almost as if a nebulous star had exploded within them: a rich chocolate hue warmed to a honeyed gold before giving way to an exotic teal green. He glanced over at her and was surprised to see her quietly studying him. For a moment, he got lost in the vibrancy of her gaze.

Color kissed the tops of her mile-high cheekbones as she looked away.

Yeah, he wanted to know everything about her, all right. He took a swig of his beer. But was the feeling mutual? How much would she let him in? Would she be honest with him about George? Ben? Jackson?

“Tell me about your doorman.”

Lily’s head snapped up, and she slowly set down the file in her hand. “George? Why?”

She reached for her glass and took a sip.

“Because he’s one of us.” Derek kept his tone casual, curious to see what tale she’d weave. He could easily go to the director and gain access to both men’s files, as it pertained to the case, especially now that Lily was part of it, but Derek posed the question to see how much of the internal wall she’d constructed he’d be able to dismantle. He wanted—needed, really—Lily to share, let him in. To trust. So he pushed harder. “So is Ben.”

She choked on her wine. Carefully placing the glass down, a nervous laugh escaped her lips. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Part of what makes me so good at my job.” He winked at her, then grew serious. “But what I don’t understand is how they ended up here. As a doorman. And a coffee-shop owner.”

Lily traced her finger around the top of her wineglass. “Would you drop it if I said they were family friends?”

“Not a chance. Start talking, babycakes.” Derek froze. Shit. He hadn’t meant to call her that. It had just slipped out.

A tiny smile twitched at her lips. Derek caught the twinkle in her eyes and his hopes rose slightly. Maybe his slip of the tongue was exactly what he needed to break down her invisible barrier.

Her brow arched and she drilled him with her eyes, the playful smile widening. “Babycakes?”

“Let’s just circle back to George and Ben,” Derek muttered into his beer.

She laughed, the sound light and airy, then brought the wineglass back to her mouth, taking a small sip. Setting the glass down again, she let out a sigh. “Can’t you just ask them yourself?”

“And miss out on watching you squirm? Nah. I’d prefer this approach.” He tipped his head up in a quick nod. “Start with George.”

“Not everything is going to be unlocked to you. I know that might shock that handsome little brain of yours, but some things are outside your clearance.”

My clearance? “You’re kidding—”

She lifted her hand in the air, and he swallowed his comeback. “No, I’m not. And I’m not trying to be a bitch about it, either. There are just some files buried so deep it would take you a million lifetimes to cut through the red tape and secrecy wrapped around them. Better to leave some things alone.”

“But you know.”

She looked away.

Gotcha, babycakes. He winced a bit. Damn it. He needed to get that, whatever that was, under control. If the director even suspected that Derek had a thing for the irresistible brunette sprawled out on the floor, he’d be jerked from the case so fast his head would spin.

Unit 67 didn’t tolerate relationships, end of story.

“Red tape and secrecy aside, George hasn’t lost that touch. I know he’s one of us.” Derek locked his gaze with hers and refused to blink. They sat in silence. Neither moved. Neither breathed. He bit back a laugh, then smirked at her. I can do this all day, babyc—shit. Knock it off, Moretti.

Lily jumped up and stalked to the kitchen. He followed and leaned against the counter, watching her. What trigger had he just pushed? She reached for the bottle of Merlot and poured herself another large glass. As she swirled the crimson liquid, she stared off into space. Derek studied her closely, fascinated. Where have you gone?

“I didn’t just stumble into this line of work,” she said in a quiet voice. “I was born into it. Literally.”

Derek’s eyebrows arched. That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Recruited? Yes. Born into it? No. What was this? The mob?

“I know that sounds dramatic and all, but it’s not. Both my parents were black ops.”

Derek nearly choked on his beer. Her parents were black ops. Well, wasn’t this pretty little story getting stranger by the second? Derek took a deep breath. No wonder he hadn’t been able to gather any intel on her earlier years; her mere existence was against protocol.

She leaned against the opposite counter and took another sip. “George trained them. He’s been around a long time. He’s family. End of story.”

Bullshit. The more Derek tugged at the thin golden string that was Lily Andrews, the stranger her story unraveled. “Not likely. Keep talking.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not sure what more there is to say. He’s like the grandfather I never knew, never had.”

“Go on.”

“My folks being together was frowned upon, just as it is now.”

He grimaced. Wasn’t that the truth.

“Envision everyone’s surprise when they not only got married, but then had me.”

“I can only imagine.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, dumbfounded. When had that ever happened in the history of 67? Oh, that’s right, never...or at least that’s what they’d all been led to believe.

Her lips curved as she peered at him over her glass. It took all of Derek’s willpower not to close the space between them and kiss her. Talk about being frowned upon. She’d probably punch him. The director would definitely track him down and shoot him.

Derek reached for his beer instead. “So, where does Ben fit in?”

Lily’s face softened.

“He and my folks did a long-term undercover op together when I was about five, and shortly after they returned, he became my guardian whenever my folks were out of the country on business.” She walked to the sofa, sat and tucked her feet underneath her. “When I turned eighteen, he read me in.”

“He read you in. Just like that?” Why would a seasoned black-ops agent read in a teenager? He eyed her as she tapped a fingernail against the side of her wineglass.

“I blame my folks for that one.”

Derek frowned, waited for the smile to follow her words. Silence blanketed the room. “Not following.”

“They were gone a lot. I kept busy learning all things computer-related...and the art form of watching. I hated being left alone all the time. Hated even more when they lied to my face about where they were really going the week of my birthday. And I got mad.” She shrugged. “So I hacked into their computer.”

Derek choked on his Guinness. “You broke into a classified computer.”

“Yes.”

“Lil...”

“And then I relentlessly peppered Ben with a million-and-one questions about my folks until I pushed him to the point of breaking. He couldn’t lie to my face when I had hard evidence to support the questions.” She looked up and smiled. Damn, she was beautiful. She shrugged. “I can be persuasive at times.”

“No doubt,” Derek replied, laughing.

Lily wrinkled her nose again. “So like I said, I didn’t just stumble into this line of work. Ben and George made a vow to my parents. If anything happened to them, they’d watch out for me.”

She looked up and the floor just about fell out from under Derek. Tears pooled at the edge of her eyelids. Raw emotion ripped across her face as a sad smile that never made it to her eyes tugged at her lips. “Just after my eighteen birthday, something did.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she looked down. Without hesitating, Derek moved next to her. When she didn’t move, he reached down and rested his hand on top of hers. “Hey. Sorry for pushing. You don’t—”

“No, no. It’s fine.” She withdrew her hand and wiped her face. “Wow. Sorry. It’s been over ten years. I thought I’d locked that away.”

“Hey.” Derek tipped her chin up. “You never get over it, Lil. It’s what keeps us human.”

Lily’s bottom lip trembled and she caught it in between her teeth, looking away. Derek recognized her need to shut down the emotions. It was the only way to stay sane. He would know—he’d done it himself more times than he’d care to admit. He moved back, giving her space.

She took a deep breath. “The official report is that they lost control of their car while on the autobahn in Germany, which we both know is a load of crap. No matter how much digging I do, I can’t unlock the classified file, but I know it was a mission that went south. Ben and George, well, they kept their word, even though I was technically an adult by then, and they’ve watched out for me ever since.”

“As a doorman and a coffee-shop owner?”

“Ben once told me coffee beans smelled better than blood.” She raised her eyes to Derek’s. Golden flecks danced within a sea of green and brown. A sad smile pulled at her lips. “How can you argue that?”

He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear. “You can’t.”

And he couldn’t. Combat was shit. Necessary, but shit nonetheless, and the aftermath of it was lasting. Derek would never change the path he’d walked, but it took a long time—if ever—to get the smell of blood out of his nostrils.

It never escaped his mind.

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, searching. For what, Derek didn’t know. But as far as he was concerned, she could search for as long as she wanted—he had nothing to hide.

Well...Derek swallowed hard.

Her lips curved slightly as a small, sad laugh escaped. “No, you can’t. So you smile and support it, especially after they’ve given up so much to support you.”

“But how did you get here?” Derek gestured to the open space. They could have plucked her penthouse loft straight from a designer magazine. It was spectacular, with its dark espresso hardwood, floor-to-ceiling white sheers draping the windows of walls and the black baby grand piano sitting in the corner.

The gourmet kitchen opened up to the main living area and the granite that made up the kitchen island, with its deep veins of gray and specks of blue, looked as though it had been flown in from Italy. Instead of the typical backsplash, old exposed brick covered most of the kitchen wall, only adding to the “industrial meets glamour” look Lily’s place boasted. The various apartments of fellow agents he’d seen—including his own—had nothing on this place. It was huge and perfectly designed.

“This place...” she motioned around her “...has been our family’s safe house for as long as I can remember.”

“Remarkable.”

He was sure the things he couldn’t see far outweighed the things he could. He scanned the walls and the room, looking for anything he could use as a tell—a painting hung too far from the wall, a misplaced seam, a piece of the wooden floor that gave too much—to pinpoint where she kept her gear, because he knew she had it. Somewhere.

He got nothing. Impressive.

“Okay. Better question. How have you managed the prolonged flight under the radar? You don’t just walk away from 67.”

She got up and paced.

“How did you do it?”

Lily took another sip of wine. What was she trying to hide? It was a simple question, so why had it spun her up? Operatives retired all the time for multiple reasons. Age. Mental health. But to just up and leave? No way in hell.

“Lily...”

She chewed on her lip, then let out a long, exasperated breath, pushing a stray hair off her face. “The director is my godfather.”

Derek whistled. Holy shit. Another vital piece of information conveniently left out of her file—whoever put that thing together needed to be booted from the Unit.

“So you’re the one everyone whispers about. I honestly thought that was 67 folklore.”

She tipped her head and frowned. “Not following.”

“You’re company royalty.”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “Hardly.”

“Says the woman who all but flipped them off, quit and is still breathing.”

“I didn’t quit.” Spots of pink kissed her cheeks.

“Easy.” He held up his hands. “Sorry. You didn’t quit. Why did you go to ground? Why’d you go quiet?”

“I had my reasons.”

“I read your file, Lily. Afghanistan. Korea. Iran. Shit, you’ve been in more countries in the past twelve years than most agents see in a lifetime. You speak seven different languages. Someone like you doesn’t just turn her back on the very thing that makes her tick.” A shadow passed across her face. “No matter how much shit hits the fan.”

“I walked because I couldn’t get past the last case, okay?” Her voice caught as she shook her head. “Still can’t. And no matter how much I might’ve loved the job, or been the best, or whatever the hell people say about me, I’m stuck in that moment.”

“Lil—”

“No one wants an operative with that mind-set.” She locked eyes with Derek, almost daring him to disagree. “That’s when people get killed.”

“Fair enough. But—” The shrill sound of his phone interrupted him. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the number and frowned. Alexis. She was late. She was never late. Every muscle fiber in his shoulders knotted as he answered on the second ring. “Well?”

“It’ll hold,” Alexis reported, all business now. “It’ll better than hold—I couldn’t crack it, no matter how many different approaches I took, and I tried them all. Hence why I’m late—which, for the record, I hate.”

“Excellent.” The tension evaporated. “Thanks, sweetheart. That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

“Whoever put that file together is a genius, like, my kind of genius. I’m impressed.”

Derek looked over at Lily and smiled.

Yes, so was he.

CHAPTER TEN

Saturday, September 20, 4:30 p.m.

LILY FIELDSTRIPPED HER GLOCK. Her mind wandered as she removed the magazine and racked the slide to eject the round from the chamber. Saying yes to this mission was ludicrous. As much as she wanted to dismiss that ugly fact, it was unchanging: this mission was unsanctioned until Lily called the director. She checked the chamber, pointed the gun toward the exposed brick on the far side of her loft and dry fired.

Hell would freeze over before she did that.

Not until she was good and ready. And she wasn’t. Thirteen months later, and she was still too angry—or, if she was being honest, proud—to call him.

Disassembling the gun into its four main component parts quieted her. Lily took a deep breath and glanced at the box of files Derek had left behind. Her heart hammered against her rib cage.

Derek.

Sweet-talking, unwavering, solid-as-rock and hotter-than-hell Derek.

She grabbed the barrel and pushed the cleaning rod into the breech end of it. She knew she walked a tightrope with him. Agreeing to work with him was one thing, but there was no way she’d go to his place to prep, no matter how much she trusted him.

She grabbed the slide and vigorously scrubbed the slide rail cuts. In the few days they’d spent together, she’d started to trust him. His probing, though direct and persistent, was never hard. Curious? Yes. Demanding? No.

That alone eased the tension permanently residing in her back. They’d easily, and almost instantaneously, fallen into a natural rhythm that coaxed her further and further from her hiding place.

But it was his eyes that chipped away at her suspicious guard, made her trust.

Jackson’s eyes had been calculating. She’d been mesmerized by what they saw and computed, but she’d always felt their shrewd stare on her.

Watching. Evaluating. Assessing.

Derek’s eyes were gentle, yet alert. Try as she might to fight it, they drew her in with their softness and away from her self-made shelter.

Bottom line, her bullshit meter hadn’t pinged once, and Lily had to trust that. If she couldn’t, if she’d lost confidence in herself, she’d lost it all.

Still...she wasn’t the naive agent she’d been. Lily insisted on always meeting here, at her home, on her ground. When she’d moved in, she’d updated and installed cameras, audio and heat sensors in the lobby and the landing right outside her door.

This was her castle.

Here, she was queen.

She reassembled the gun, did a function check and smiled. Perfect. Lily quickly thumbed bullets into her magazine, switched the safety on and tucked the gun into the small of her back.

Lily glanced at her watch and stood. Her two hours were up. Derek had called earlier, informing her that he’d be over at five o’clock. One thing she’d figured out about him—he was always early.

Here they were again.

Round two.

She stared at the monitor. Partly because she was curious about how George would respond to Derek “invading her space,” as he’d ranted earlier. And partly because she enjoyed the view—it was the only time she could stare at his impressive physique without getting caught.

He stopped at the concierge’s desk and chatted with George. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Since when had those two become buddy-buddy? Derek smiled at something George said, looked up into the camera and winked. If George approved, maybe, just maybe, her bullshit meter was still intact after all.

Rowland was her one and only focus tonight, no matter how sexy Derek looked in his tux. And he did—damn right delicious. Deep down, Lily knew tonight was only a mission, but still...her gaze swept over Derek’s wide back and traveled south as he walked toward the elevator, and heat rushed to her cheeks.

He stepped into the elevator and tossed his head in a quick nod toward the corner camera as the doors closed. She switched the monitor to the thermal view. The outline of a gun hung just below his right armpit.

Packing heat, are you, pretty boy?

Lily bit back a laugh. That was okay. So did she. She opened the door before he could knock.

“Hey.” He smiled down at her.

She stepped aside as he strolled in, a black garment bag thrown over his arm. Her heart kicked up a gear, as it seemed to do every time he was near, and despite her best attempts, her gaze traveled south down his back and rested on his ass.

“Looking good, Moretti.”

Derek held out the garment bag on two fingers. “For you.”

She eyed the bag, curious to see what he’d brought. They’d both agreed to let Derek take charge of her wardrobe, but Lily wasn’t entirely confident that his idea of appropriate evening attire matched her own.

An easy grin spread across his face. Her stomach fluttered. Again. Give it a rest, Andrews. Don’t forget what happened last time. The fluttering stuttered, then disappeared entirely.

He gave the bag a little shake. “I can help with the zipper if you need...”

She snorted, snatching the bag from his outstretched hand. Their fingers briefly brushed, sending sparks down her spine. For a brief moment, she wondered if her eyes mirrored the want burning in his.

Wouldn’t that be one hell of a way to derail their op before it even started?

She turned and walked toward her bedroom. Derek followed after her. She glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You. Stay put.”

Lily kicked the door shut with her foot, silencing his deep laugh, and tossed the bag onto her bed. Unzipping the bag, she pulled out two dresses.

Thousands of tiny black sequins covered the first gown. Soft chiffon, satin and lace made up the second. Each ink-black dress was exquisite. She’d been outfitted on other missions with her fair share of amazing clothes, but those were burlap compared to these gowns. She whistled softly. “Wowzah.”

Lily carefully laid each out and examined them. Yanking her tank top over her head, she dropped it to the floor. She stepped out of her jeans, kicked them over to join her shirt and held out the first sequined dress. The neckline swooped down gracefully between two tiny spaghetti straps. She twirled the dress.

The back plunged in a deep V.

“Well, that won’t do.” She frowned and tossed the dress over the side of the chair tucked in the corner. A twinge flickered in her stomach. “Not ever again.”

Turning her body slightly, she glanced over her shoulder into the tall mirror leaning against the wall. Angry purple scars peppered her back. The pang in her stomach twisted.

Jackson’s treacherous actions had damaged not only her confidence, but also her body. She’d hoped to one day be able to move past the emotional barriers that day had erected.

But she’d never escape the physical evidence of his betrayal.

They—and subsequently Jackson—would be with her forever. Whether she liked it or not.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She didn’t have time to deal with that shit. Hands on her hips, she glanced at the second dress option. It reminded her of something she’d seen some Hollywood star wear on the red carpet. “Guess you’ll have to do.”

Slipping the dress over her head, she let its soft fabric envelop her. The smooth material perfectly hugged her curves, fit her like a glove. Lily stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The front plunged low in a deep V and barely covered her belly button or her breasts. A delicate strip of black lace connected the two sides of the V, concealing just enough to keep the gown from being entirely indecent. When she moved, her thigh peeked out the top of a mile-high slit.

The dress was daring. Flawless. Exquisite.

She loved it.

Turning, she peered into the mirror again. The high back concealed everything it needed to.

Well played, Derek. The dress couldn’t have been more perfect if it had been hand-tailored to her.

Game on. Time to go to work. She hitched her leg up, let the seam fall open and reached for her .32, then stopped. Normally, she’d be strapping on her thigh holster.

Not this time.

Tonight, they’d agreed she’d go in unarmed. Not her preference, but there was nothing she could do about it.

She left the bedroom and silently studied the man who’d blown into her life, turning it upside down. Derek stood with his back to her, gazing out the window overlooking the city. One hand was shoved in his pocket, while the other rested on Dakota’s neck as the dog sat by his side. The perfect pair, as if they belonged together in this place. With her. Lily froze. Where the hell had that come from? She shook her head. That would never happen, no matter how inviting a picture the two of them made.