Page 12 of Rhys

Vanessa kept her focus on her feet as she took another step toward him. “I can’t stay here. Neither can you.”

Never one to back down, he crowded her space and rested his hands low on his hips. “And just where do you think you’re gonna go? You have no clothes, no car, no I.D., no money…” He paused before adding, “You know, for a spy, you sure didn’t think this one through.”

Ah, nice try, big guy. Almost got me there.

He was good, but she was better. Even in her drug-induced state, Vanessa had the wherewithal not to outwardly react to his attempt at getting her to reveal something she wasn’t quite ready to divulge.

She would tell him the truth. Soon. Once she was away from this place and they were safe. But for now…

“These people are ruthless. If they find us here, they will kill us both. So we can either stand here and argue until they hunt us down, or you can get us the hell out of here.”

“What’s your alias?”

The question took her aback. “What?”

“The name you’ve been going by for this job…what is it?”

“Why do you—”

“Just answer the damn question,” he barked.

Vanessa licked her lips and answered the damn question. “Valerie,” she told him the truth. “My alias for this job is Valerie.”

His expression was unreadable. “Valerie what? You still using Walsh like before, or do you go by something different now?”

She wouldn’t deny that she’d lied about her name when they’d first met, but Vanessa also didn’t want to tell him the surname she’d chosen to complete her last job with the C.I.A.

Her hesitation pissed him off.

“Swear to Christ, Vanessa…”

“Maddox,” she blurted more loudly than intended. Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she repeated with a much softer, “My current cover is Valerie Maddox.”

Rhys’s blinking eyes widened, her answer clearly taking him by surprise. “You used my name?”

“It’s not what you think.” She shrugged it off. “John, my handler, assigns all of my aliases. Just so happens that this time around he picked Maddox.”

Though she couldn’t be sure, Vanessa could have sworn a tiny spec of disappointment flashed behind his assessing gaze. Whatever it was, it was gone before she could be sure.

That’s not disappointment, Ness. It’s called relief.

Ignoring the sudden urge to slap her subconscious across its invisible face, she changed the subject to something more pressing than a fake name on a fake I.D.

An I.D. that, unless it had already been picked off by the shooter or a thief on the prowl in an abandoned museum parking lot on a Friday night. Speaking of which…

“We need to get my car.”

“It’s already being taken care of.” Rhys wiggled his phone. “That was a text from one of my teammates. He came by here while you were still unconscious. I gave him your keys and asked him to handle it. The text was him letting me know your car’s now at my condo.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “That was…thoughtful. Thank you.”

“I told him to search it for anything that might help us figure out who shot you. Anything I need to know before that happens?”

Vanessa shook her head. “It’s a rental. My purse is in there, but the I.D. and credit cards all have my alias on them. My laptop was in the front seat, along with the burner given to me by my handler. You won’t be able to access the computer, though. It’s government issued and encrypted out the eyeballs, and I’m the only one who knows the password.”

Something resembling a slight smirk lifted a corner of his full, kissable lips, but Rhys remained quiet.

Confused, she returned to the topic of most urgency. “Okay, then. We should go.”

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