Page 41 of Tempting Tessa

“Let’s find out,” Tommy said, already uploading the photos to his software program. As he worked, Tessa toyed with her phone, seeming to debate whether to text or call someone. He knew what she was thinking—she wanted to put Spence or Del on tracking her stepfather’s death. To alert them that he was alive and actively working on the EMP attacks, but doing so would require her to explain everything that had happened so far.

Despite the fact that she seemed back to normal, she wasn’t. He knew the feeling. Her usual cool, detached, and logical brain wasn’t functioning rationally. No matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, they were front and center.

Time for him to step up and offer her the support she’d given him the previous night when he’d been struggling with the impact of Jessie’s manipulations. “This must be quite a blow.”

Her chuckle was humorless, bitter. “Harris had this way of making people depend on him, even when they hated him. The piece of worthless—” She reared back and slammed her phone into the seat in front of her. It hit the leather and fell harmlessly to the floor as she raked both hands over her face, through her hair. Then she took a giant breath, and it was like she shut all the emotion down again. “I swear, Jessie looked right at me when she exited that vehicle. These windows are tinted. There’s no way she could know we’re inside.”

He’d wondered the same thing but hadn’t had time to sort it all out. “She followed us from Romania. She must’ve lost us when we switched from the train to the plane but figured out our destination, and that’s why Renard—Harris—was picking her up at the airport.”

“Which means thatheknows we’re here. At least he realizes we’re in London.”

Clarence, who had been silent, spoke up. “Perhaps it’s unwise to stay in obvious view of the building.”

“Give it another minute,” Tessa told him. “Jessie must’ve picked up on our vehicle following them and assumed it’s us—that we figured out she’s alive or that her partner in crime is on our radar.”

“Did you see her face?” Tommy asked. “The left side looks like it’s… I don’t know. Messed up. Scarred.”

“Her cheekbone had been broken and didn’t heal correctly.” She hesitated a second, giving a slight head shake and staring out the window again, but seeming to see something else. “My mother had those kinds of injuries. Harris left significant damage and scars on her from his beatings. She would never go to the hospital, so some of them didn’t heal properly.”

Tommy’s gut clenched. “Jessie was beaten and tortured.”

Tessa seemed reluctant to confirm it but did with a jerky nod. “For all we know, shewaskidnapped by Hagar, and it was his doing. At some point before the beheading, Harris stepped in as Viktor and traded her out. That’s my guess.”

His stomach twisted harder. He was no stranger to torture, but it was rare in his line of work behind a desk with computer code filling his head. The thought of Jessie enduring that kind of pain made his blood boil.

Tessa glanced at his screen, the program scanning the faces of the men who’d entered the building. “If Harris rescued her, that would explain why she’s with him now. She might feel like she owes him her life.”

“Top shelf manipulation,” Tommy said.

Tessa retrieved her phone from the footwell. Across the street, movement at the entrance drew Tommy’s attention once more. Two of the visiting guards had been joined by three others—probably Harris’ team. They weren’t average bodyguards—they had the hard look of mercenaries and the movements of highly trained former military personnel.

As one, they seemed to zero in on the Mercedes. Clarence’s voice remained cheerful as he said, “It appears we have been spotted, m’Lady. Shall we make a hasty retreat?”

“Dammit,” Tommy muttered, shoving his laptop onto the seat. “Drive, man!”

The SUV roared to life, pulling away from the curb just as the security team ran toward them. Tommy twisted in his seat, watching as the men pivoted, climbed into the pair of Audis, and began following.

Tessa chewed her bottom lip, also twisting to watch. “Clarence, you’ll need to use some of that defensive driving.”

“Understood,” the man replied. “Let’s see if they can keep up.”

The next few minutes were a race of sharp turns, sudden stops, and narrow escapes as the butler with skills navigated the labyrinthian streets of Ilford. Tommy shifted between gripping the door handle, the back of the driver’s seat, and Tessa’s hand as they narrowly avoided collision after collision, darting between double-decker buses and jetting through red lights.

His adrenaline spiking, he felt the odd need to reassure Tessa. “You’re right. Your driver is good. We’ll lose them any minute.”

Clarence caught his eye in the rearview, his patient grin in place. It seemed to say,I told you so. “We both want the same thing—to keep Ms. Vulpe safe.”

Tommy clapped the man’s shoulder over the back of the seat. “Her safety above all else, got it?”

“Must I remind you that I’m a trained CIA operative?” Tessa called over the squealing tires.

“Retired,” Tommy corrected.

She met his eyes. Sheer determination shone in them. “Not anymore.”

And, just like that, Contessa Vulpe was back in action.

He squeezed her hand as they rounded another corner to the blare of car horns. “Good,” he said. “Time to kick some ass.”

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