His Spy at Night (Spy Games Book 3)

by Paula Altenburg

  “I bumped into your neighbor on the way in and said hello.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the lift, his serious expression never changing. “I told him if he hears any strange noises he should ignore them. Your reputation is saved.”

  His deadpan sense of humor—that most people never got to see—was another aspect of him she’d miss. The thought of never seeing him again wrenched her heart. “Are you spending the night?”

  Indecision flickered, deepening brown irises feathered with gold. “No. I can’t stay that long.”

  She shouldn’t be this disappointed. “Come in and sit down so we can talk.”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  It was as if he’d seen her hunger for him and was afraid to venture too close. She was a sex partner who’d yanked him out of his comfort zone, nothing more. Any professions of love from her would horrify him. She had more pride than that.

  She did.

  Folding her arms across her chest, she braced her shoulder against the wall. “Suit yourself. Consider this is my notice that I’ve finished my investigation. John is arranging for me to be transferred out of your office within the next two weeks.”

  “I see.” He mulled that over. “When will Vanderloord be arrested?”

  She hadn’t expected that to be his first question. She’d assumed he would want to talk about their personal relationship first—that it would be equally as important to him as it was to her. Consequently, her tongue stumbled forming the explanation she’d prepared and he noticed.

  “He’s not being arrested, is he?”

  Lying, which came easily to her in so many instances, escaped her in this one. “No. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I know how these things work.”

  She wished she could tell him about the defense minister, but she couldn’t. She’d never risk an investigation. Not even for Harry. “I thought you’d be angry.”

  “Oh, I am. Believe me. But not with you.” She sometimes forgot the connections he had and how much authority he carried. He’d take his anger higher up the chain of command. He’d go straight to John. “Besides, I wanted you to be finished. Remember?”

  Yes. That was what they’d argued about. So if he wasn’t angry with her, and the reason they’d disagreed was now a moot point, why did he still look as if he’d bolt for the door if she made any wrong moves?

  Because he’d come here to end things, even without knowing they only had two weeks remaining. Certainty was a blade of ice thrust into her heart. His explanation had better be good. She wasn’t going to make rejecting her easy for him. “I gave you my news. What did you want to speak to me about?”

  He shifted from one leather-encased foot to the other. His gaze, however, remained steady on her face. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me. If it was important enough for you to come here to tell me, then you should come right out and say it.”

  Harry sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I was going to tell you we shouldn’t see each other outside of the office anymore.”

  A wave of rage breached the berm she’d erected to help her brace for rejection, swelling from her chest to her face. Spots of red light prickled at the backs of her eyes. She’d been angst-ridden over falling in love, and how hard it would be to leave him behind, and that two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to say good-bye. She’d dared to hope he might want something more and that his feelings were as invested as hers. Meanwhile, he’d been plotting how best to get rid of her.

  “You’re tired of the back of the sofa? You want to give your desk a try instead? I’ve considered it already and I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Harry. The window’s pretty exposed and a lot of stuff ends up on the Internet these days. Photos like that could go viral. Besides, you said you didn’t want our sex life spilling over into the office.”

  He didn’t rise to the bait she’d sprinkled like chum on the water. “Believe it or not, it’s not you, it’s me.”

  The tired cliché did nothing to dampen her rampaging fury. When people used it, the opposite was always true. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand combat. I can kill you with a jab of my finger. Do you want to stick to that story or give me the truth?”

  She’d half-hoped he’d laugh at her ridiculous claim. Then they’d kiss and make up.

  Instead his mouth settled into a somber expression that gave her chills. “I hate European football. I’m not interested in nightclubs or electronic dance music. I don’t have the energy it takes to keep up with you.”

  “You’ve had more than enough energy so far. If I recall correctly, we’d agreed that we’re evenly matched.”

  “In one area,” he conceded. “In others, you don’t bring out the best in me. When I ask myself why, it’s because of all the uncertainty that surrounds you. I don’t know who you are.”

  Her heart bounced between hope and despair. Love was complicated and messy. It had highs and lows—and the lows he couldn’t handle. Harry was all about neat and tidy emotions.

  But that wasn’t what had caused any real arguments between them.

  “You don’t like feeling jealous,” she guessed, and the tightening of the fine lines around his eyes said she’d gotten it right. “Haven’t you ever been jealous of a woman before?” What about Alcine?

  “Not to this extent. Mentally, it’s exhausting.” His jaw worked, then hardened. “I have a question for you. Would you give up your job if I asked you to?”

  Dan had warned her against traveling this road. “At the embassy? Absolutely. That place is dull.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Let me turn that around,” she said. “Would you give up yours for me?”

  “It would be foolish of me to do that. Since all I ever think about when I’m around you is getting you naked, it’s doubtful we’re ever going to get past the initial attraction stage of this relationship. You said yourself how important honesty is, and yet you lie for a living, so that stage would always be missing.” He gave her a look that dared her to argue. “There’s no security in this for me.”

  He meant he’d worry about who she’d be with and what she’d be doing to get information from them. She’d promised him exclusivity and he didn’t trust her.

  She dared him to come right out and say it. “Why don’t we simply continue the sexual relationship we’d agreed on? What’s wrong with exploring this stage?”

  “It’s not enough. I want more.”

  So did she. But that wasn’t what he was saying. Her head got his message even if her heart wasn’t as accepting. “Just not with me.”

  He didn’t deny it, crushing her heart. “Everything is a game to you. All I am is more entertainment. You like talking me into doing things I wouldn’t normally do.”

  That was unfair. She liked bringing out the person he was inside—the one he didn’t show to the world. She’d thought he was an open book when she’d first met him. He was and he wasn’t. She liked and admired the man the world saw, but it was the deeper, darker complexity simmering beneath the surface that she responded to and had made her fall in love with him. He possessed the strength to hold all of that passion in. He should be able to find the courage to let at least a bit of it out. He should be willing to fight for her. For them.

  She’d been so sure of him. She refused to believe she’d fallen for yet another man who wasn’t who or what she believed him to be.

  “Are you blaming me for your loss of inhibitions or your lack of self-control?” she asked.

  His face reddened. “I’m not blaming you for anything. As I said, the fault is with me.” He fumbled for the door handle behind him. “I’d better go.”

  The door opened and closed.

  She flipped the deadbolt into place, pressing her forehead against the cool wood, her palm splayed on the wall. She heard the lift grind to a stop, then a rattle of gears as it began its descent. Her anger didn’t dissipate, but it mingled with other emotions now, primarily hurt and the pain o
f loss. Confusion as well, because he hadn’t come right out and said he didn’t want something more with her—he’d said honesty in a relationship was important and that she lied for a living.

  But one had very little to do with the other. Deep down, he knew that. He’d brushed off being misled regarding Bernard’s pending arrest. He hadn’t seemed angry with her about it at all, but rather dismissed it as part of her job—which it was—leaving her with a far more consuming question. When had she not been honest with him about personal matters between them? What else had he said?

  She rewound and replayed their entire conversation. He kept saying that he didn’t know her, but he did. He knew her better than anyone. She’d hid nothing of who she was as a person from him.

  She turned away from the door. It was too late to prove it to him. He didn’t want her enough and she wouldn’t beg.

  * * *

  On Thursday Bernard invited Lies to lunch as he’d promised. She didn’t know why he’d bother since she’d already told him she’d be of no use to him.

  She accepted because of an unresolved desire to discover why he had such an obsession with Harry. She didn’t believe it was because of a simple personality clash, as John and Harry had both suggested.

  Her morning at the embassy involved making lists and handing off her duties in preparation for her departure. Harry had chosen to be elsewhere. The last time she’d seen him was when he’d fled from her flat. The tiny hope she’d harbored that she meant more to him than he let on flickered and died.

  Hannah, the woman who’d welcomed her to the embassy when she first arrived, expressed disappointment that she was leaving so soon.

  “Harry’s a good boss to work for but he can be intimidating. You seem to know how to handle him. It’s reassuring to us mere mortals when he acts like a human being every now and again.”

  Yasmin too had been disappointed when Lies called her to say she’d been transferred.

  “At least visit the farm for the weekend,” Yasmin urged her. “Heit and Mem—” father and mother “—will be sad if you’ve come all this way and never once been to see them.”

  Lies had spoken to them on the phone several times since she’d arrived, but until now she’d been working. Since she wouldn’t be spending her last days in the Netherlands with Harry, she should really rent a car and drive to Friesland.

  “Would you like to go with me?” Lies asked.

  “Sorry. I already have plans.”

  With the accountant, no doubt. She’d have to make time to meet him before she left.

  Lies kept her eye on the clock as its hands crept toward noon and her lunch date with Bernard. At ten minutes to twelve she let Hannah know where she was going and that she might be a few minutes late getting back to her desk that afternoon.

  The restaurant was several blocks from the embassy gates, close enough to be popular with the staff. The day was cool and held a threat of rain. She wore a warm hand-knit sweater over slender khaki dress pants and boots and carried her raincoat in a saddlebag on her bicycle.

  When she arrived at the restaurant, breathless and damp, Bernard was seated at a table near the back of the crowded room, making small talk with his waitress and flirting. The girl was dark-haired and exotically beautiful, with eastern Mediterranean looks, and much more his usual type than Lies was when she considered his personality profile. The waitress gave her a friendly welcome before moving on to the next table.

  They were well into their meal of sliced ham and sweet mustard on warm bread before Bernard got to the reason behind his invitation to lunch. He reached into a pocket, then held out the wire she’d installed in his bathroom in the palm of his hand, the accusation loud for its silence.

  This was an unexpected development.

  “What is it?” Lies asked, rising to the challenge.

  His smile thinned. “You tell me.”

  She opted to go on the offensive. “If you’re accusing me of something, you’ll have to explain.”

  “Very well.” He snapped his fingers closed over the wire and returned it to his pocket. “I believe you planted a listening device in my home—although I can’t imagine why a woman who works with the Canadian embassy would do such a thing.”

  It didn’t matter if he knew she’d been the one to plant the wire. It was far more important he not link it to CSIS and she didn’t want his suspicions heading in that direction. “Since I can’t imagine it either there must be a different explanation. You wouldn’t be in the habit of inviting women you hardly know to your home and encouraging them to spend the night—whether they want to or not—would you?”

  He ignored the dig. “It’s quite a coincidence that so many women close to Harry also become close to me, wouldn’t you agree?” He drummed long, elegant fingers on the tablecloth. “Here’s what I think is happening. My private business information is being leaked to competitors. Meanwhile, Harry refuses to do business with me or recommend me to Canadian contractors. I can only come to one conclusion. Harry,” he said with slow deliberation, “is using women and his position as trade commissioner to steal information from me and sell it to my competitors.”

  So this was why Bernard had a vendetta against Harry. He assumed that because he had no compunction about using unethical methods for personal gain no one else would either. Not to mention the elevated sense of his own worth he harbored.

  Bernard’s information being leaked was an interesting twist however. She’d like to know who was behind it. The scorned Albanian ambassador’s brighter-than-presumed trophy wife was a safe bet. Unless it involved Canada however, it wasn’t within Lies’s mandate to pursue. Bernard played in a deep and murky pool. Sooner or later he’d drown in it.

  “You can’t possibly believe that Harry is stealing information from you,” she said. “He’s the personification of integrity.”

  Bernard patted his pocket. “This says honesty to you?”

  “I have no idea what that says. I’ve never seen it before.”

  The look he gave her said fine, he’d play along. “If you want to survive in the diplomatic world, you should learn to read people. And better yet, how to protect yourself from them. Harry will put you out there Lies, and let you take all the risks, because in the end it’s your neck and reputation on the line.”

  The ridiculousness of the situation struck her as funny. A CSIS intelligence officer was receiving advice from a crime boss on how to protect herself. She didn’t know what to say or how to react, other than to inquire if he understood that this was exactly what the Canadian Minister of National Defence was currently doing to him—putting him out there and allowing him to risk his own neck and reputation.

  But another part of this wasn’t funny at all. She’d found no solid evidence that Bernard had murderous or abusive tendencies toward women. Dita and Alcine were both still alive. Rather, he had a casual indifference toward them. In his opinion, Lies wasn’t worth any potential backlash that might arise if a woman connected with the Canadian embassy went missing.

  Hopefully that same reluctance would carry over to the aerospace and defense trade commissioner too, because an uneasy crime boss with Bernard’s connections was the last person Harry needed holding a vendetta against him.

  She’d go to Interpol with an anonymous tip in order to protect Harry if she had to. Then they’d see how good Bernard was at protecting himself and how loyal his friends were.

  Before she could think of some clever response to his helpful tips, Harry appeared in the arched oak doorway that led from the foyer to the restaurant’s dining room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harry’s casual glance around the room halted, backtracked, and settled on her.

  His gaze darkened. A thrill of desire coursed through her body before her brain reminded it that she was angry with him. This level of jealousy was ridiculous and not at all flattering, particularly since he was the one who’d ended things between them.

  Also his timing couldn’t possibly hav
e been worse. She should never have told Hannah where she was going for lunch.

  “Well, well,” Bernard said, seeing him too. “Harry seems to have rekindled his interest in you.”

  Lies touched his elbow, speaking quickly so Harry, making steady progress toward their table, wouldn’t overhear. “Behave yourself. You’re wrong about Harry. Don’t make accusations you’ll regret later or you’ll never get those recommendations you want.”

  “Good afternoon,” Harry said, acknowledging Lies with a cool graze of his eyes as he reached past her to shake Bernard’s hand. “What a surprise to find you both here together.”

  Bernard shifted into his discreet businessman guise. “I hope you don’t mind me taking Lies away from the office for lunch. Why don’t you join us?”

  Harry checked his phone before sliding it into his jacket pocket. “Thank you. My lunch date canceled on me at the last minute and somehow I missed the message.”

  “If you’d only learn to use the app I installed, this wouldn’t keep happening to you,” Lies said as he took the chair next to hers.

  “I don’t know how I’ll manage without you.” He said it with such a straight face that only she understood he was joking.

  Laughter broke out at a table nearby.

  Bernard looked at Lies. “Oh? Are you going somewhere?”

  “Lies has put in for a transfer,” Harry answered for her. He didn’t say to where.

  “I’d meant to tell you but we got sidetracked,” Lies said, silently cursing Harry for giving away a piece of information CSIS hadn’t wanted Bernard have. “I’d applied for another temporary position in the Caribbean and it was approved. I leave at the end of next week.”

  “What an…interesting opportunity for you,” Bernard said. “I thought you had your eye on Paris.”

  “I do. But it isn’t going to happen any time soon and I want to see the world. The Caribbean will be fun in the meantime. I like the beach.”