Page 9 of Illicit Temptation

“Put in his papers last week.”

Malone was not only a high-ranking commander, he was corrupt. Cruel and evil. He locked me in a container targeted for an airstrike to punish me for insubordination. Ian, my sergeant, found out and released me.

But it was too late. I survived, Ian and the others didn’t.

I believed for weeks after that Malone would try again to kill me to keep me quiet. I never reported what he did. The strike killed the only witness. I considered murderingMalone when I got out of the service for how he damaged me. But killing someone out of pure revenge is permanent.

Taking a job that Faolan Malone wants? And with his sick sense of entitlement, a chance to watch him go ballistic if he doesn’t get this gig? That’s almost as sweet.

“Twenty-four hours,” I say to my boss, zipping up my jacket for the brisk walk back to my flat.

I leave the office and wander through the streets of Dublin, far from where I grew up in Waterford. Thoughts of Shea tear through me like shards, my heart aching.

Finding a pub, I sit down and send her another text. Watching the phone, I order a pint. As I nurse my beer, I continue to text and call Shea, even tell her about my assignment. But she doesn’t answer or respond.

Three beers later, I dial Cormac. I bailed on him, and he’s owed an explanation about where I went.

“Mate!” he answers. “Where are you?”

“Back in Dublin. I had an emergency.” I wait a beat, giving him a chance to tell me something horrible happened to Shea since she’s not gotten back to me.

But when he offers no such update, I say, “Sorry I didn’t see you off.”

I want so much to ask if he’s heard from Shea. I’m starting to get fucking nervous. As I’m preparing to casually ask about the woman he left in my care, another call flashes across my screen.

Shea...

“Cormac, I’ll be in touch. I have another call. Cheers.” But by the time I fumble with this damn phone, the call goes to my voicemail.

Heart pounding, I listen to the message:

“This is a message for Trace.”She sounds adorably cautious.“I got your message. Well, messages. You... You can’t tell anyone what we did. When you get back to the States,we’ll figure something out. Take care.”

Take care?

Figure something out?

There’s little I can do right now.

I’ll fix this as soon as I can. Andnotover the phone.

I ACCEPT THE ASSIGNMENTthe next morning, figuring it’s a desk job for a couple of months. As soon as possible, I’ll take a long weekend off and fly to New York.

In the briefing, however, with my new agent-in-charge, I find out, I’m going undercover. To fucking Algeria. And I have to hand over my phone for security reasons. It’s to be locked in a safe deposit box here, and I’ll receive a burner in exchange. One I cannot use to make calls to a secret wife in the States.

Freaking, I’m about to back out, when I see Faolan in the lobby, looking angry. He wanted this assignment, but they gave it to me.

I make one more call and close my eyes, hearing that damn automated voicemail greeting again.

“Shea, it’s Trace.” I check my watch, calculating the time it will take to go home, pack, and get to the military airfield. “I’m going undercover for a couple of months. I won’t have my phone. When I get back, I’m flying to New York,wife. Be prepared for a spicy honeymoon after that incredible wedding night you gave me, love. Cheers.”

When I look up, Faolan is gone, and I breathe easier. With my rattled nerves, I don’t want to confront him. Not now. Not like this.

While packing, I give my brother, Rhys, also a contractor with the agency, details of the assignment. Then I call my mum and dad back in Waterford.

With the plane wheels-up, I leave my life, and now a wife, behind. Undercover missions are dangerous. I could very well be killed. And I never got to say goodbye to the woman I’ve loved my whole life. The woman I was fortunate enough to marry, but forced to leave.

CHAPTER FIVE

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