Page 2 of Betrayed

“Pete Davis,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t heard that name in years. We worked together on a few coalition operations. As for retired, I doubt if the general will ever hang up his bars for good, not while there is breath in his military-to-the-toes body. You’ll be in excellent hands.”

“Durand is going in solo?” a junior agent asked.

“In this case, yes. We’ll have additional resources on standby, but our directive is to seal the leak by whatever means possible before it goes public that top-secret new weaponry was stolen and turned on our own people. While Durand identifies the security breach abroad, we’ll be busy trying to weed out the sons of bitches who are targeting former agents.”

“Bloody bastards,” Ray muttered.

The director ignored Ashworth’s cursing, so commonplace she probably didn’t even notice, as she continued handing out assignments. “Durand, you’ll be going in quietly as a consultant for BSE. Only a few corporate heads know the details. We’ll have your dossier and credentials ready within the hour.”

He looked at his watch, doing a quick calculation from London to US Central Standard Time. “It’s 2:00 p.m. in the States. I’ll call Cap straightaway.”

Chapter 2

LEANING IN CLOSE TOthe mirror, Mari raised the silver tube to her lips. But she couldn’t apply her lipstick. Her hand was shaking too badly. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and counted to ten while trying to will away her apprehension and a severe case of nerves.

It happened every time she prepared to make the nearly three-hour trek down I-10 from Houston to San Antonio. It wasn’t the drive itself but what happened when she got there. Despite having done it every month for nearly a year, the apprehension she felt walking through the doors of a kink club alone hadn’t gotten any easier. She doubted it ever would because not only was it anxiety-provoking for everyone present to know her reason for being there, it was embarrassing. But she kept coming back, month after month, overcoming her fear and humiliation because she craved it like a junkie did his next fix.

When breathing and counting to fifty didn’t help, Mari opened her eyes and stared at the woman in the mirror.Her children, her mother, and the few friends that remained three years after she’d as good as checked out of her old life, wouldn’t recognize her.

She barely knew herself. From her deliberately tousled and slightly teased mass of ebony curls to her five-inch, peep-toed, high-heeled hooker shoes, she looked nothing like the mother of two deans-listed college kids. No one would guess she chaired the annual fundraising committee for the women’s shelters of Houston or that she ownedMarilee’s, a high-end women’s boutique in the upscale Highland Village shopping center.

What would everyone think if they could see her in her skimpy leather and lace club wear?Her children would be utterly mortified. The shelter staff would likely drag her to see one of the crisis counselors—stat. And her customers would whisper behind their French-manicured, diamond-encrusted fingers as they rushed out the door to activate their gossip circle.

Heaving a sigh of uncertainty, she glanced at her bedside clock. The LED display seemed to shout a warning about the rapidly dwindling window of opportunity.Vacillating as she always did, she scolded her indecisiveness.

Put on your big girl panties and just do it already, or wimp out and continue to be irritable, unsatisfied, and lonely.

And didn’t that sound pathetic?

Tears misted in her eyes, blurring her vision as she sought the 8x10-inch framed photo of Derek. She wondered frequently what he would think of her behavior. They’d never discussed what either wanted or expected of the other if the unthinkable happened. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer as she had, not after experiencing the sheer loneliness that had invaded her life. It never occurred to her she could be surrounded by people and still feel alone. Not until he’d left her, the fluke car accident making her a widow much too young.

Her gaze lingered on her husband’s handsome face. His sandy-brown hair, deep-blue eyes, and brilliant-white smile had attracted her first. She hadn’t learned until much later that beneath his boy-next-door, All-American good looks lurked a darker, kinkier side. A side he kept hidden from everyone except his adoring wife, one he only let emerge when they were alone and behind a firmly locked door. That’s when her wicked-minded master emerged, and he knew exactly how to bring out the masochist that lurked deep within his submissive wife.

Dragging her eyes away from the cherished photograph that stirred bittersweet memories, she appraised herself once again. Derek had been possessive of her in life, but if he couldn’t be with her, wouldn’t he want her to move on? Surely, he wouldn’t want her to wallow in the grief-stricken loneliness that had become her world after his passing.If their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t want him to suffer as she had. She clung desperately to the hope that he would feel the same way, because if it wasn’t the case, the ever-present guilt of her betrayal would consume her.

The alarm on her phone went off, a reminder that she had to leave now or not go at all. Her ringtone—Can’t Stop the Feeling—grated on her nerves. She grabbed the phone and swiped the screen, poking the red button repeatedly until it finally stopped.

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