Page 6 of Tempting Tessa

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” He jogged to catch up. “Because fake documents have never gone sideways for anyone before when the CIA is looking for them.”

She ignored his sarcasm, stopping shy of the street that would take them to the place they needed. She jammed a finger into his chest. “You came to me, remember? You’re alive because of me. I told you we were going to do this my way, and you agreed. While I have a dog in this fight because I was friends with Jessie, and because I…” She couldn’t finish. Shewhat? Had feelings for him? Felt responsible for him?

Why the hell was she doing this? Why was she getting sucked back into undercover work and acting like an operative? Just like she had insisted to Flynn and Meg, she didn’t do this stuff anymore. Sure, helping the swans with the Romanian Embassy problem had been exciting, but now she was knee-deep in shit she didn’t want to be shoveling.

“Are you going to finish that sentence?” the man pulling her into the shit asked.

Annoying… “If I say we’re going to Arizona, we’re going to Arizona. Now shut up, get out of my way, and let’s get on with it.”

For a tense moment, he stared down at her, his lips pressed into a hard line. Angry, cunning, deadly determined. This was the Tommy who’d been on the run, dodging assassins and terrorists. Hunting for his sister’s killer only to discover he’d been denied his revenge.

While she wasn’t sure, she suspected he hated Meg and Declan. Maybe even Spence. They’d let Hagar kill Jessie.

At least, that’s what he believed.

She hadn’t been there and didn’t know anything other than what Spence had told her. Meg and Jessie had been ambushed, kidnapped, and beaten nearly to death. Declan could have saved Jessie but had chosen to save Meg that day instead.

Dec had been in a no-win situation. How did you choose between two teammates when their lives were on the line?

She returned Tommy’s glare, refusing to back down. While she wasn't above laying blame at Dec’s feet, she knew him to be one of the most dependable and reliable men she'd ever known. She knew the grief that they all carried and, for some stupid reason, felt her own healthy amount of it. She wasn't a swan, and yet…

Had she missed something along the way? Had Jessie said or done anything that she should have picked up on? When she’d learned that Hagar and his death squad had kidnapped Meg and Jessie, should she have left Romania and her simple life as a librarian behind and jumped back into the foray?

The answer was yes. Always yes.

It was too late to change what had happened. She would have to live with the questions and the guilt they brought.

Tommy exhaled through his nose, wiped a hand over his face, and just like that, his demeanor changed. He was back to being her Tommy—a man dealing with the fallout of his sister’s death and still holding it together. A man who wanted to save the world.

A man she wanted to make smile.

He grumbled something under his breath about her being worse than Jessie. She took that as a compliment.

Not even attempting to keep the smile off her face, she resumed walking, his string of colorful curses following her. A block down the street, she stopped in front of a nondescript shop, its windows filled with a garish mix of blinking neon lights. A hand-painted sign above the door proclaimed in English,Authentic Romanian Souvenirs.

Tommy glanced up and down the nearly empty street. The place was so far off the beaten tourist path that few customers frequented the place. His voice came out low and incredulous. “This is where we’re getting the passport?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“It looks like a postcard puked.”

That it did. “It has a certain charm.”

He snorted. She pushed the door open to the chime of an outdated bell. Inside, the shop smelled of stale air and cheap incense. Shelves were cluttered with ceramic Dracula figurines, embroidered tablecloths, and touristy trinkets. A radio crackled faintly behind the counter, broadcasting a local talk show.

A man in his fifties appeared from the back room, the beaded curtain clacking as he shoved it aside, and it fell back to cover the opening. His belly strained against the buttons of his plaid shirt, and his balding head was artfully covered with a few long strands of what he had left of hair.

When he saw Tessa, his fake smile for tourists faded, and his lips covered his nicotine-stained teeth. He cursed, albeit in Romanian. It seemed she was getting a lot of that today. His gaze went to Tommy, sizing him up. He switched to English when he spoke to Tessa. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet one of your best customers, Vasile? Especially one who has helped you out of a jam more than once. Or have you forgotten those special memories?”

He rolled his eyes, forcing another fake smile as he dropped his Romanian accent. “Greetings. What can I do for you today, my favorite customer?”

“That’s better.” She moved to a display of traditional Romanian clothing and picked up a delicate veil embroidered with crimson flowers. She draped it over her arm, her movements deliberate. His smile faltered, but his eyes lit up. The veil was worth less than twenty dollars, but what it signified was worth far more.

“Beautiful hand-stitching on that one,” he said, now the consummate salesman. “The color will look good on you.”

Tommy peered between them, not understanding the code but realizing there was one. Tessa stroked the veil. Only one other customer was in the shop, busy eyeing some coins. The man told Vasile he’d be back for the boxed collection and made for the exit, but she stayed in character. “Perhaps you have a mirror in the back that I could use to decide whether it’s right or not for me?”

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