Page 65 of Betrayed

“It seems Derek’s operation in Houston has mysteriously continued after his death. Except, whoever took over isn’t as adept at covering their digital footprint as he was. We’ve been able to track the email communications, electronic funds transfers, and data sharing to one server.”

“And you think I have something to do with it? That I stepped into Derek’s spy shoes?” She couldn’t control the brief burst of unamused laughter, or the touch of hysteria that tinged her voice when she continued. “That’s rich. I can barely run payroll and print invoices. Your intel is wrong, Mr. Durand.”

“I’m Arturo, Mari, that hasn’t changed. This is a shock, but we’ll get through this.”

She didn’t answer, only glared at him through narrowed eyes, not sure what he was talking about or why he cared what she called him. There was no “we” anymore; they were through. He’d played her in more ways than one and now that his cover was blown, he’d catch his spies or arrest her, but either way, he’d move on, and somehow, so would she.

“Believe me when I say I don’t think you have anything to do with this and haven’t since day one. You were a pawn.”

“Funny, that seems to be a trend. I must have ‘sap’ tattooed across my fucking forehead.”

“Enough. I know this is difficult, but please attempt to be civil.”

She resisted the firm command in his voice, somehow putting on a tough exterior even though she was devastated and wanted to crawl in a corner and cry away her pain.

“If you don’t think it’s me, you must have other suspects, or you wouldn’t be telling me all your secrets. So arrest the bastards and be done with it. Better, be done with me and leave so I can wallow in my stupidity.”

“It isn’t stupid to love someone who is lying to you.”

The irony of that statement had her snorting at his gall.

He surged to his feet, a curse bursting from his lips. A smattering of staccato French followed, “merde,” the only word she understood was the first.

As he paced, clearly agitated, it wasn’t lost on her that this was the first crack she’d seen in his calm, secret agent demeanor. Her decimated heart lurched to life as she watched him move. First, because he was hot, as always, and second, his impassioned response gave her a glimmer of hope that he might actually care. Before she could pick apart her feelings in depth, he turned with his eyes—currently more gold than green—ablaze.

“One of the many differences between me and Derek Hoffman is that I’m trying to save your stubborn ass. Further, I can’t leave you alone, Mari, nor do I want to. But we’ll deal with that later. Right now, we need to address why we were able to track the communications back to your shop and your computer.”

“What?”

He took a steadying breath as he nodded grimly. “We have a timeline dating back to right before Derek’s death. It stopped for a while, but activity has picked up again in the last year, peaking in the last few months.”

“That’s impossible. No one has access to my work computer except me, Adri, and Derek, and he’s dead.”

Saying nothing, he stared at her, waiting.

When the pieces all fit together, she let out a choked sob and put her hands to her face, whispering, “Not Adri!”

What else in her life could turn to crap?

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