“Indeed we do. Nice of you to remember me. I’m not a scientist of the highest record. Just a small cog who helped with a paper that’s being presented later today.” Tate had to let Vail know he was still undercover. As an ally, he should respect it and keep his nose out of Tate’s spy business.
Then again, the rule to trust no one was always in full effect. Tate decided it was best to continue running with the cover ruse and let Vail think what he would. He wondered whether Belanger had recognized Mal the night before as the subject of Tate’s practical joke.
Tate purposely waited until Belanger cleared his throat and stared pointedly at Sophia.
“Where are my manners?” Tate smiled at Sophia. “This is my graduate student assistant, Mallie Green. She helped with the research on my paper.” Now it was dicey. Tate had no idea who Belanger was supposed to be. “Pardon me. I know we were introduced, but your name has slipped my mind.”
Belanger was still studying Sophia with that look that said he was trying to place her, that he wasn’t quite sure she was Mal. “Dr. Thomas Bell. I’m here purely as a tourist looking to take in some of the popular demonstrations and shows.”
Following instructions, Sophia didn’t speak. She merely nodded and smiled.
Belanger leaned in and whispered into Tate’s ear. “Working with the ex? What are you up to?”
Tate grinned. “That’s only for those with a need to know, old boy.” He slapped Belanger on the back. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to do some sightseeing. Enjoy the festival!” He took Sophia’s hand and led her down the front steps and onto the sidewalk, leaving Belanger to stare after them.
When they were out of earshot, Tate whispered to Sophia. “Perfect job back there. He thought you were Mal.” Tate laughed. “He’ll be chewing on that one for a while.” He squeezed her hand and, feeling Belanger watching them, impulsively kissed her breezily on the lips to give him even more to speculate over.
Tate felt no zing in that kiss, even as Sophia pressed up against him and kissed him back with passion and a gentle flutter of her tongue. When he pulled away her eyes were round and wide and her skin flushed.
She looked at him coyly, almost shyly from beneath her thick lashes, doing almost a Princess Di impersonation. The princess had always used that look to full effect. Sophia had mastered it perfectly, so expertly Tate wondered whether she’d practiced it. It should have knocked him to his knees, but it didn’t. Chemistry was a fickle thing, he decided.
“Tell me about your ex-wife—do you get along?” She continued to use the Princess Di look on him.
Interesting topic to bring up after he’d just kissed her. Kiss a woman and bring out what’s really on her mind? Jealousy was a vicious monster.
What a tangled web deception and the spy business wove. He decided it was best to stick to conventional wisdom about the two of them since only he and Mal knew things had changed.
“Sure.” He grinned at Sophia. “As long as we stay away from each other and keep things superficial. Then we’re great.”
“But you’re here together?” Her eyes were still wide and lovely. “Sleeping in the same room.”
“Only out of necessity.” He hesitated and decided to go for broke. “And a weird quirk of fate. Your natural resemblance to her is uncanny. Which gave the exfiltration experts at the agency the brilliant idea of using her identity to sneak you out.”
Sophia’s brow furrowed. Somehow she managed to still look lovely and fresh. “And my resemblance to her is a bad thing?” Her tone was half flirt, half worried question.
“I never said Mal isn’t gorgeous. A guy would have to be blind not to notice her. I married her, after all. Not to sound like an arrogant ass, but women find my money attractive. I can have my pick.
“Unfortunately, Mal’s personality didn’t match her beautiful hide. Or at least, didn’t mesh with mine.” He had to convince Sophia he was crazy for her.
“That I look like her, especially now, made up like her, doesn’t bother you, then?” Sophia asked.
“No,” he said, completely serious. “On the contrary. Maybe I’m just a guy who has a type, but I find you very sexy.”
She smiled at him. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Let’s blow this place.” He squeezed her hand again, reassuring her. “We have a car to find and a plane to catch.”
* * *
Mal felt very much the spy as she watched Tate handle Belanger on the steps of Dashwood House, with her pulse roaring in her ears.
“How are they doing?” Mason asked as he finished hiding Bagge’s body in a flower bed for his crew to find later.
Hiding a body in an English flower bed made Mal feel like part of an Agatha Christie novel. As she’d predicted, it ruined the ambience and made her look at flower beds warily. She hoped Witham’s people arrived before the gardener or he was going to be in for a terrible scare.
Mal turned over her shoulder and cupped her hand around her mouth to direct her words to Mason. “They seem to have managed. They’ve just left Belanger looking stunned and puzzled. Are you finished there? Or am I going to have to tail them myself?”
Mason dusted off his hands. “Just finished now.”
Mal turned back and peeked out of the gap between buildings just in time to watch Tate kiss the RIOT witch on the sidewalk. There’s blood-boiling jealousy, murderous jealousy, and then there’s soul-killing jealousy. In that instant, Mal felt all three, but not in equal measure. Lucky for Tate that murderous jealousy came in a distant last and Belanger looked merely bemused as he watched that kiss from his perch on the Dashwood steps.
Tate is playing the part of the cover. Doing what he has to do to exfiltrate the girl.
That’s what the logical, confident part of her believed. But the other part, the part that had been worn down and given up on her marriage kept whispering at her to close up her heart and forget Tate. He hadn’t changed his playboy ways and never would. That he was enjoying that kiss way too much and looking too adoringly at Sophia.
“If looks could kill,” Mason said as he came up beside her.
I’m that obvious?
Mal tried to control her scowl. “We have a daughter together. I don’t ever want that woman anywhere near her. Do you see the way she’s looking at him?”
Mason took her arm. “I do. The tart! She’s very convincing. Either she really is in love with him as she claims, or she’s a better actress than we give her credit for.”
Mal wasn’t about to give her credit for anything. “Falling in love with a man because of his picture and exploits is falling in love with a fantasy. Let’s hope Tate can live up to that fantasy until we deliver her safely to our expert debriefers.”
“Do you doubt him?” Mason asked.
“Not for a minute.” She laughed. “And that’s the conundrum. Even if Tate manages not to lose his heart to her, I have a horrible feeling about this.
“Once we learn everything we can from her, Sophia is going to have to disappear. Which means she’ll have to let go of Tate and the fantasy dream she’s created of him or risk her life.”
“That should solve your problem,” Mason said as they waited for Tate and Sophia to get a comfortable distance ahead of them before stepping out of the shade to tail them.
“Yes, you’d think. But what are the odds Sophia isn’t going to go all Fatal Attraction on us? She’s young and idealistic enough to think love will conquer all and that she’s invincible. If she didn’t, she’d never try to escape from RIOT in the first place. If that’s what she’s really doing.”
“The spy biz has made you cynical,” Mason said. “Maybe our little RIOT wench has repented and is simply desperate.”
Mal looked at Mason and shook her head. “You aren’t helping.
“I have this horrible feeling she isn’t going to go quietly. She may look all innocent and lovely. She certainly knows how to play men. Around women, or at least me, she’s perfectly vicious, as you’d expect fr
om RIOT.” She sighed and forced a smile. “I think they’ve got a decent lead on us. Where is their car?”
“The Beachwood Shopping Centre carpark. It’s just up High Street and an easy jaunt onto the A40 to Oxford and London from there. It’s a busy place. Lots of people coming and going. We should be able to blend in and sneak out without much problem.” Mason held his hand out to indicate she go first out of their hiding spot.
“Do you think there are any more of him?” As they stepped into the sunshine and headed toward the sidewalk, she pointed over her shoulder indicating Bagge.
“I hope not.”
“You really need to work on your reassuring skills.”
Mason laughed. “We Brits like to be understated.”
“Uh-huh.” Mal put on her rearview sunglasses with their stylish frames, large lenses, and fine optics that allowed her to see clearly behind her and around corners. They were handy for more than spy purposes. They also hid her scowl as she was forced to endure watching Tate and Sophia hold hands as they strolled along ahead of her like two lovebirds, imitating the way she and Tate had gone around town the day before. “Are we going to pick up the car?”
“No. That one’s a red herring in case anyone was following us. I have an identical one waiting for us at the carpark.”
She gave him her deadpan you-have-to-be-kidding look. “We had a car to drive two blocks?”
“We might have needed it.” He smiled. “Nice that we didn’t. Now it’s a perfect morning for a stroll. It’s much easier to tail them on foot. We’d be conspicuous driving along at strolling speed.”
“Yes, we would.”
“Besides, I know how much you love to shop. You’ll love winding through Debenhams.”
“When you put it that way.”
There are few things more torturous in life than having to watch another woman hit on your man, even if he is your ex. Mal should have enjoyed their stroll along High Street on such a gorgeous morning, but her thoughts were dark and she saw shadows and spooks at every corner. The shadows may have been figurative, but the spooks were real enough. Cheltenham was crawling with spies, both friend, or as friendly as they got, and foe. With so many espionage types on the street, it was hard to tell whether they were being followed or not.
Mal was glad for one thing—Beachwood Shopping Centre was the opposite direction from the Montpellier shopping district and Neptune’s Fountain that she’d visited yesterday with Tate. None of her memories would be ruined.
* * *
You’d think holding hands would be a simple task, but as Tate walked toward High Street holding hands with Sophia, it felt awkward, like their hands were wrestling even though they were still. He and Mal always held hands in a certain way with his thumb looped over hers. It was disconcerting to be with a Mal double and have it feel odd and off.
Sophia looked calm enough, but her hand trembled slightly in his. “There are spies everywhere.”
“The festival is known for them. Everyone is trying to recruit the scientists to their cause. No one wants to be left out. Don’t worry. Most of them mind their own business. They have their own agendas and are too busy to worry about us.”
“By now they will know I’m gone. Edvid is thorough. He’s following us. He has to be. If he catches us—”
“He won’t. Trust me.” Tate was fully aware of Mason and Mal tailing him at the accepted distance. They were good. If he hadn’t known they were there, he might have missed them. It seemed as if Sophia had. He decided it would be better not to mention them.
Debenhams came into view. He led Sophia toward it. “Time for some shopping.”
“Good. I love shopping.” Sophia’s smile was radiant. “What are you going to buy me?”
“Oh, that’s the way it works, is it?” Tate held the door open for her. “I buy for you.”
“You are the billionaire and I am your girlfriend.” She flashed him that flirtatious look again, the one that should have made him follow her anywhere, but didn’t.
“Sorry to disappoint. Today it’s just quick window-shopping as we escape.”
* * *
Mal and Mason followed Tate and Sophia through Debenhams, trailing at a respectable distance. Shopping was usually a huge part of Mal’s job. If not for the danger of RIOT chasing them, Mal would have loved to linger over the fashion and shopping treasures in the department store.
Instead, she and Mason followed Tate and Sophia into the mall. Tate gave Mal a scare when he and Sophia ducked into a little boutique.
“Evasive action,” Mason whispered to Mal. “There’s a middle-aged man that might be following them. If I’m concerned about him, I’m sure Tate is.” Mason subtly pointed the suspected tail out. “Let’s keep an eye on him.”
Mal was forced to linger on a bench outside the store while Mason watched the suspect. Mal held her breath while the man paused outside the shop entrance. The last thing they needed was an incident.
Just as Mason approached the man, he wandered off. Mason came back beside her. “Clear.” He texted Tate the same.
A minute later, Tate emerged with Sophia, who wore a brand-new silver Claudia Bradby necklace around her delicate neck. One that would have fit perfectly in Mal’s collection. Claudia Bradby was a favorite designer of the princess. Mal imagined that Tate had bought it to keep up the cover of a couple in love out for a shopping trip, but still …
“They’re on the move.” Mason tucked his phone into his pocket as Tate and Sophia left the store.
They followed Tate as he wove through the mall with Sophia hanging on him. Then, just when Mal was barely hanging on to her professional demeanor, Tate ducked into an exit to the carpark.
Mason nodded to Mal. They headed for another exit.
“I hate parking garages,” Mal whispered in Mason’s ear. “Nothing good ever happens in parking garages. They’re the modern-day version of a haunted house or a scary basement—gray, dismal, plenty of places for killers to hide. No smart heroine should enter one unprepared.” She pulled her pink gun from her purse and took off the safety.
Mason pulled a pistol from his pocket, eyed hers and shook his head. “Pink? The CIA should really get you a more impressive gun.”
“What are you talking about? This one was specially designed for me,” she said.
They slunk around, covering Tate as he arrived at another decidedly unimpressive vehicle.
“Really?” Mal shook her head. “MI5 should spring for sexier rental vehicles.”
“It’s more impressive than it looks.”
“Sure it is.” Mal grinned at Mason. “I bet it’s even electric, gets fifty miles per gallon, and has a V-one engine.”
“V-one?” Mason looked confused. “Are you insulting our horsepower?”
She cocked a brow and gave him a deadpan look.
Mason laughed.
Tate helped her into the vehicle.
Mason pointed to a car that was identical to the one they’d ditched near the Dashwood. “Our chariot awaits.”
Mal shook her head again. “I hope that one comes with extras.” She eyed it skeptically. “It doesn’t look big enough to house a rocket launcher.”
Mason shrugged. “It has a rather decent speaker system and factory-installed air.”
“That’s what I thought.” Mal slid into the driver’s side of the little silver car and revved her engine. “Not exactly an Aston Martin DB5.”
“Not everyone can be Bond. That’s movie stuff.” He grinned at her. “Go easy on the engine. Don’t want to overtorque it.”
Mal sighed. “British cars.”
Mason laughed again. “Save your road rage for RIOT.”
Mal arched a brow. “What are you talking about? I’m in complete control.”
“A woman in denial.” Mason shot her a look full of disappointment. “You aren’t over him. I really don’t have a chance in hell with you, do I?”
Mal looked him directly in the eye. “What do you mean?”
&nb
sp; “You know what I mean. You’re still in love with Tate.”
* * *
Tate slid into the driver’s seat, eager to get the hell out of the parking garage. He hated parking garages. They were ideal hiding places for assassins, snipers, and murderers of all varieties. With RIOT on their tail, he was even less eager to linger in one. He slid the keys into the ignition. As he started the car, Sophia covered his hand with hers and stopped him.
“That was fun.” She bit her lip and smiled, playing idly with the silver strand around her neck. “I’ll always cherish this.”
Tate forced a smile, thinking how that little shopping excursion had been anything but fun. Keeping a watch for RIOT. Always on guard and ready to defend Sophia. Looking for the escape route in each shopping department. Sabotaging any chances at a reunion with Mal with every flirtation he faked with Sophia. Pretending to be in love with Sophia and humoring her with Mal watching—excruciating torture. Ducking into that boutique to lose a suspicious tail. Buying Sophia a necklace he knew Mal would love to keep from looking suspicious and taking no joy from the purchase. Visions of Mal in that lovely silver necklace and nothing else gave him a rise.
Sophia leaned forward, dropped the necklace from her fingers, and moved her lips to within inches of his as she grabbed the shoulders of his shirt and bunched them in her hands.
What the hell?
“You’re much more handsome and sexy in person. Only part of your magnetism and charm comes through in your photos.”
“And here I thought I was photogenic.”
She halved the tiny distance between their lips. “You are. But you’re better in person. The camera can’t capture heroism. Not every man would risk his life for a stranger.”
“For a woman as beautiful as you? Take it from me—most men would.”
“I love you, Tate Cox.” Her words were a breathy whisper. “You’re my hero.”
She released the lever on his seat, throwing it back into the full reclining position, sending him as flat on his back as the seat allowed. He didn’t know how the hell she did it, the woman was as agile as an acrobat, but she maneuvered over the console between them, past the steering wheel, straddling him with a move so smooth he hadn’t seen it coming. Before he could move, she was giving him a lap dance and removing her blouse, revealing a transparent lacy bra and fully budded breasts.
Love Another Day Page 18