Page 4 of Covert Temptation

She was just here. Waiting to be convicted of a crime she didn’t commit…or cleared of it. They were watching her—only they called it protection.

The worst part was having no contact with anyone. No one to talk to.

She looked to the far wall where her suitcase sat. Weeks ago, when she packed it for a trip from Mexico to New York City, she couldn’t have been prepared forthis.The clothes she brought all coordinated, providing outfit options for meetings and events she would attend with Alyssa.

But nobody needed Chanel boots in a safe house.

She looked at her bare toes that she’d recently painted, but even the pastel pink polish couldn’t cheer her up. Not when the name of the color was Blush and Betrayal.

She hitched her knees up and rested her head on them. The team didn’t trust her. Alyssa didn’t trust her. But Kennedy hadn’t betrayed anyone.

She snorted.Try convincing the SEALs of that.

Her phone had been compromised, though she had no idea how it happened. As a result, the ambassador had been placed in danger, and they suspected Kennedy might also become a target.

Which was why she was stuck in this apartment, cut off from the world.

She curled tighter around herself. The TV murmured in the background with some late-day news rolling quietly under the clank of the heater. She wasn’t even watching, only had it on to drown out the silence.

Isolation pressed on her like a lead blanket. She wasn’t permitted to leave the safe house. Couldn’t sleep much. Didn’t eat much. She had a burner phone for emergencies only, but even picking it up made her wonder who was watching.

She did try one time to tell the guy who checked on her that she didn’t have a friend left in the world to spill secrets to, but he wouldn’t listen.

At this point, her only link to the outside world was the TV, and it was always on.

She glanced up just as the breaking news banner stretched across the screen.

Expert Witness Assassinated in NYC Courthouse Shooting—Sources Say Case Tied to International Syndicate.

Heart stopping, Kennedy straightened on the couch and reached for the remote to turn up the volume. A photo of an older man with plenty of silver in his hair and dark eyes flashed on the screen.

Breath trapped in her throat, she jumped up, her feet carrying her closer on autopilot. She blinked, then blinked again, as if her eyes were lying to her about what she was seeing.

“Oh my god.Shaw.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Alan Shaw, Alyssa’s mentor in the United Nations, the man they flew to New York City to meet. Then the attack ended that.

She pressed her fingertips to her lips, watching the story unfold on TV. Shaw had been the expert witness in the high-profile case. But why was the media blaming the crime syndicate?

Shaw had a close connection to Alyssa. And Alyssa was a known target of the terrorist known as Cipher.

Her stomach took a nosedive.

To Kennedy, it was totally obvious this was the work of the same man who was after Alyssa. The reasonshewas trapped in this damn apartment.

She whirled and snatched up the phone on the coffee table. Staring at the scrolling news, she clasped the phone in trembling fingers. She didn’t even know if the text she was about to send would go through, or if Alyssa had her blocked.

She had to try.

She opened a message and entered Alyssa’s number from memory. The blinking cursor scared the shit out of her.

A dozen things rumbled through her mind. What would she even say? That she was sorry to hear about her friend Shaw? That she missed her like hell?

That she suspected Shaw’s death was far too close to the attack on Alyssa?

She won’t want to hear from you,a cruel voice in the back of her head told her.

Her fingers moved anyway.

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