Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(136)
She stilled then and sat, waiting for him to continue.
“One of the things I do is contract work for the government, sometimes the CIA and sometimes other agencies. I don’t even use my own name. That’s why you couldn’t access some of the files. Six months ago, I was on a special assignment for the CIA in Colombia. I was to deliver a message to an undercover agent who had infiltrated a drug cartel, one of the biggest. It should have been a fairly easy assignment. Only this time something went terribly wrong.”
Zoë tightened her grip on his hand, and some of his own tension eased. He went on, not mentioning names but summarizing the events from his arrival in Bogotá, to his delivery of the message, to the explosion that occurred only minutes after he’d left the bar. Then he told her about meeting another agent in an alley, being shot, and waking up in the small hospital. “So,” he said, “as far as anyone knows, I’m still dead. And the only way I can come back to life is to find out who really killed that man and clear my name.”
Zoë said nothing when he was finished. She merely stared at him. He could tell that her mind was working. A little line had appeared on her forehead. But he didn’t know what she was thinking.
For a moment, panic gripped his stomach again. Maybe she didn’t believe he’d been framed for Frank’s murder. But she deserved to hear the rest. He had to tell her about Ethan, too. “There’s something else you should know.”
She raised her free hand to stop him. “I think I already know. I know who you really are. You’re Lucifer. That’s the code name you worked under at the CIA. I’ve read all your files and all your reports.”
It was Jed’s turn to stare. But before he could ask her how she’d learned his code name, the elevator doors opened and Ryder stepped into the apartment along with Gage Sinclair and Bailey Montgomery.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryder said, “but this is the first break we’ve had, and I wanted you to know about it.”
Jed slid off of his stool. The last thing he’d expected was to see the woman who’d shot him and left him for dead striding into Ryder Kane’s apartment. Evidently, it was his day for surprises.
ZOË’S HEAD WAS STILL spinning with the realization that Jed Calhoun was Lucifer when she turned to glance at the two people stepping out of the elevator behind Ryder Kane. The look on Jed’s face had alerted her to the fact that he wasn’t happy about the interruption.
She recognized Bailey Montgomery. They’d never had any direct contact, but the woman had been her role model when she’d been at the CIA. She didn’t know the tall, dark-haired man who walked with a slight limp. Bailey’s expression was serious, as was her companion’s.
Turning back to Jed, Zoë saw the kind of hard expression that she’d often imagined on Lucifer’s face, and she could feel his tension as if it was her own.
Ryder was the only person in the room who was smiling. He held up a hand as he approached the kitchen. “Relax. Sometimes Muhammad doesn’t have to go to the mountain. The mountain comes to him. Plus, Ms. Montgomery comes bearing gifts.”
“So did the Greeks,” Jed said in a cold voice, never taking his gaze off Bailey.
Zoë stared at Jed, becoming more and more aware of the change in him. This wasn’t the laid-back man with the lazy sense of humor that she’d known as Jed Calhoun.
“This time the gift is those files we were going to break into her office to get,” Ryder said. “She’s got those and more.”
Jed said nothing.
“I suppose you’d like an apology.” Bailey walked forward until she was standing only a few feet away from Jed. The tall man remained at her side.
“For shooting me and leaving me in that alley? When would you like that?”
Tension snapped between the two of them, and Zoë drew in a quick breath as the tall stranger stepped in between Bailey and Jed. Another realization joined the little tornado whirling in her head. Bailey Montgomery was the assassin Jed had told her about. She couldn’t help picturing it again in her mind, and the image made her stomach roll.
But he hadn’t been killed. He was here and safe. And he was Lucifer, the man she’d had a crush on for months. How many times had she pored over the details surrounding Frank Medici’s death—Lucifer’s meeting with him in that bar, the suspicious timing of the explosion? The evidence had all pointed to Lucifer being the assassin. But it hadn’t made any sense, not once you looked at the man’s history. She’d told Hadley Richards that Lucifer couldn’t possibly have killed Frank Medici.