Page 32 of Undercover Shadow
“We’ll be using my study as an operations center,” I said when I saw Douglas, my estate manager and head of security, approach. “We’ll need the historical archives brought up fromthe vault—everything related to the monastery’s history and regional surveys.”
“Right away, sir.”
“This is Miss Nassar. She and I will be working together for the next few weeks.”
This time, rather than raise a brow, she smirked, knowing full well I’d baited her.
I’d chosen the room I asked be made ready for two reasons. First, while it was one of the monastery’s original chambers, it had been expanded over time but still maintained its contemplative atmosphere. It had high ceilings with exposed beams, windows overlooking the loch, and walls that had heard centuries of prayers but now would witness something else entirely. Second, as was specified in the old architectural plans, it was adjacent to my own suite, connected by a door that hadn’t been opened in decades.
“This is lovely,” Leila said when I led her upstairs to see it. She set her bag down, then moved to look out the windows.
“When you’re ready, my study is downstairs, second door on the right past the main staircase.”
“I’ll need an hour or so to prepare.”
“Take your time,” I said, leaving and heading to my own rooms to shower and change.
As I stood under the hot water, memories of Leila and me in the bath, her naked body relaxed against mine, played in a loop that included the sounds she’d made when we made love, the scrape of her nails on my back, and the hardest part, the way she’d sobbed when I held her in Dunravin’s kitchen.
After dressing in jeans and a thick sweater to ward off the winter chill, I made my way downstairs to my study.
The room was perfect for our purposes—not the grand library with its soaring ceilings and thousands of volumes, but my private space where I handled estate business and the morediscreet aspects of my work. It had a biometric access panel, large oak tables for spreading documents, and multiple exits, including the main door, French doors to the garden, and if you knew where to look, access to the old monastery passages.
I pulled out my mobile and rang Con.
“Tag.” My best friend’s voice came through clear. “How is Nightingale?”
“Making the best of a difficult situation.”
“And you?”
“The same.”
“Christ, mate. You’re both idiots.”
I didn’t dare ask what he meant by that. If I did, I’d be in for a lengthy lecture I was not in the mood for. “I’m aware. Listen, are you and Lex available for a briefing tomorrow?”
“Of course. Lex has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
“Are Ash, Sullivan, and Gus at Ashcroft?”
“Ash and Sullivan are, but Gus is in Edinburgh. I’m sure he can arrange to be back tomorrow.”
“What about Renegade and Archon?”
“They’re in London but can fly up with Viper. Do you want to fill me in on the short version?”
“McLaren’s alive, Con. Or at least, someone with her exact knowledge and methods is active.”
There was silence on the other end, then, “Bloody hell. If she survived that explosion?—”
“Agreed. Which is why we need everyone here. Tomorrow.”
“Roger that, and Tag?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let Nightingale disappear again.”
