Page 3 of Rhys

Her entire career had been built around her innate ability to be cool under pressure. To read people and situations quickly and with great accuracy. It was the whole reason the CIA had recruited her back in college. Of course, after tonight—hell, after this pastweek—Vanessa was seriously beginning to question pretty much everything.

Including her skills as a highly trained field agent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when she heard his voice for the first time in two years.

“This is Rhys. You know what to do.”

Rhys Maddox. Former Air Force Corpsman/Pararescueman turned private security operative.

Inwardly cursing the fact that she’d gotten his voicemail, Vanessa squeezed the steering wheel tightly with one hand and waited for the telltale beep. When it came, she swallowed her pride and begged a man who hated her for help.

“It’s me.” She swallowed hard as she sped down the road. “I know I’m the last person you want to talk to, but I need your help, Rhys. I’m in trouble, and you’re…you’re the only one I can trust.”

An ironic statement given what she’d done to him.

Continuing with her humble plea, Vanessa added, “I-I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you. But this isn’t about us. It’s much, much bigger than us.”So big.“I’m going to text you a place and time to meet.” She paused. “Please, Rhys. You’re my only hope. If they find me, I’m dead. I’m sending the address now. All I’m asking is for you to listen to what I have to say. If you want to walk away after that, I’ll understand. Just…please. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

Ending the call, Vanessa’s gaze bounced between the road in front of her and her phone. With speed and accuracy, she rushed to type out the address. Praying he’d show, she hit send and set her phone in the seat beside her.

A few minutes later, she turned onto Kensington Avenue and pulled into the museum’s parking lot. After a quick, assessing scan, she spotted a row of dense bushes near a nearby curb. Not wanting to sit out in the open waiting for a man who may never show, she drove around the backside and parked in a way she still had eyes on the lot’s entrance.

You know he’s never going to show. Not after the way things between you ended.

Keeping her eyes glued on that entrance, she turned off her engine and prayed like crazy that the voice echoing through her mind was wrong. But the longer she sat there, waiting in limbo, the closer she found herself to the only conclusion that made sense.

He’s not coming.

Vanessa reached for the key, her thumb and forefinger fully prepared to fire up the engine when a flash of light filled her peripheral. Head swinging in that direction, the set of approaching headlights grew brighter as the slow moving car approached a nearby section of the lot.

The car stopped, its body turned in such a way that it faced the museum, rather than where she lie in wait. Using a set of pocket binoculars, she lasered in on the driver of the other vehicle.

Recognition was instant, a sudden onslaught of emotions threatening to choke her as she caught a glimpse of a man who’d tempted her in ways none before—or after—ever had.

He came!

Afraid he’d think she hadn’t shown, Vanessa tossed the binoculars onto the cushioned seat beside her and opened her door. Their respective positions had her approaching his car from behind, her heart slamming against her ribs with each new step.

She was almost to him now. Just a few more yards and—

The car’s reverse lights shown bright, the sound of rubber squealing against asphalt filling the night’s frigid air. Stopping dead in her tracks, Vanessa watched as her former lover spun his car around, its headlights blinding as they faced her.

Directly in its path, the car headed straight for her, jerking to a sudden stop mere inches from where she stood. Staring back at her through the windshield was a very handsome, veryangryman.

In another lifetime, he’d been her friend. Her lover.

Rhys was also the first man to ever make Vanessa wish she wasn’t a spy.

Shoving his door open, Rhys jumped out and rounded the car’s front bumper. “Are you crazy? I could’ve run over your ass!”

Nostrils flaring, his dark eyes fumed as he shot her a death glare. They were eyes she used to get lost in. Ones she thought she’d never see again.

She crossed her arms at her chest, the thin sweater she was wearing did little to stave off the evening breeze and burgeoning storm. “I couldn’t let you leave.”

“What do you want, Vanessa?”

The wind picked up,sending a few wayward strands of her long, curly hair across her cheeks. Tucking the unruly locks behind her ear, Vanessa dropped her hands at her sides and licked her suddenly dry lips.

“Like I told you on the phone, this is big. And, if anyone ever found out I was talking to you—”

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