Page 26 of Undercover Infidel
“We have an early start,” I said, taking a deliberate step backward.
“Yes,” she agreed, her voice equally quiet. “Good night, then.”
I watched her disappear into her room before continuing to the one that wasn’t my own but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
My thoughts were in disarray. The mission remained paramount—Labyrinth posed too great a threat to allow myself a distraction. Yet, as I prepared for bed, I couldn’t dismiss the growing certainty that Dr. Margot Sterling had become far more than a professional ally in my mind.
God, how I wanted to unlock the adjoining door that separated us, climb in bed next to her, leave the mission behind, and get to know each other in the way I was certain fate intended.
8
LEX
Despite the late hour, once inside the room, I reached for my mobile. Viper answered on the third ring.
“Lex, is everything all right?” Her voice was crisp and alert.
“Yes. I, err, wanted to update you on our plans to visit Edinburgh tomorrow.”
A brief pause hung between us. “That doesn’t warrant a call at this hour.”
“There’s more.” I lowered my voice. “Someone sent me a message. A threat.”
That caught her attention. “Go on.”
I recounted the words verbatim, explaining how Con had traced it to his own network.
“Curious,” she said. “The part about ‘not everyone at Blackmoor is what they appear’ is quite ominous, isn’t it?”
“My thought too. It could be trying to point me toward someone in Con’s inner circle.”I hesitated. “Or…”
“Or warning you about Carnegie himself,” Viper finished. “I’ll have MI6’s technical division look into it. Keep your guard up, Lex.”
“I always do. Oh, and you’ll never guess who turned up.”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Dr. McLaren. Turns out she was friends with Alexandria Ashcroft as well as Ambrose. They attended university together.”
“How interesting,” she said in a way that told me she was likely tapping her lower lip with her index finger. “So, are you meeting?”
“We are, but I don’t know when yet. She and Ambrose went to Stirling today.”
“Yes, well, like I said, interesting. Keep me posted, Lex.”
After ending the call, I stared at the ceiling. Sleep came reluctantly, and when it did, I dreamed of stone walls with secrets and dark tunnels that led nowhere.
Con didn’t lookup when I entered the dining room at zero six hundred and found him there, already sipping coffee. His attention was fixed on a tablet, givingme a moment to observe him unnoticed. The morning light streaming through the windows highlighted the strong line of his profile—the straight nose, the sharp cut of his jaw now shadowed with stubble, and those impossibly deep sapphire eyes focused intently on whatever he was reviewing. It was as though some Renaissance artist had decided to carve the perfect balance of strength and refinement, and the result was Conrad Carnegie.
His white dress shirt stretched across broad shoulders as he leaned forward, revealing the physical strength that matched his formidable intellect. I’d worked with attractive men before, but something about Con’s particular combination of aristocratic elegance and raw power was uniquely distracting.
He raised his head but didn’t speak. What was that all about? Here I was, ogling the man while he was givingmethe cold shoulder.
Rather than ask outright what was wrong, I observed him as I poured tea.
“We should get on the road soon if you still intend to travel to Edinburgh with me,” he said abruptly.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
