Perhaps Dietz was taking some heat for his methods, which were cold even by Lily’s standards.

“I was attempting to buy SHADO time to unravel what St. Laurent had done, discover his contacts, and find the files he planted. On the off chance we’d need him, I didn’t want him eliminated just yet.”

“And now? I’ve found four of the six files.” Encrypted files she’d been ordered to hand right over to Dietz with no time or way to decipher them.

“Depends. Is the sweep holding?”

She knew what was coming, and a part of her dreaded telling him. Even considering what Jude had done. “Honestly? I think it’s starting to break down. He says he’s having migraines and nightmares.”

“All right. That’s it, then.” He paused, let the truth fall into the space between them. “If he’s allowed to remember, his vengeance against SHADO-against both of us in particular-will be swift and merciless. You understand what must be done.”

Bile rose in her throat. “Yes. Quick and clean?”

“No, he’s a society figure and too many questions will be raised if we make it an obvious hit. Use the poison in four evenly spaced doses, no more than a week apart. His health will decline steadily, and once he’s dead, our sources will plant in the newspapers that Jude St. Laurent, renowned artist, never recovered from his accident. No one will question his death.”

Except Liam. She kept her lips sealed. The younger man had done nothing to deserve to die.

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Lily disconnected, sick to her stomach. She was doing the right thing for the best of reasons-eliminating a traitor before he could regain his memory and do any more damage to the United States. But why did it feel wrong?

Something about her talk with Dietz tugged at her brain, but the significance escaped her.

She put it out of her mind. If it was important, it would come to her later.

Robert Dietz leaned back in his chair and gazed into the pockmarked face of his right- hand man. “Finally, the end of the so-called indestructible St. Laurent.”

“She’s found all the files?” Tio asked, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.

“We’re still missing the same two, but if they haven’t been discovered by now, I’m willing to bet they never will. And he could’ve been lying about how many he sent.”

The other man scowled. “Maybe. But the asshole said himself he’s the only one who knows where they’re hidden. The whole reason you were keeping him alive was insurance against his death triggering the fucking things.”

“Be that as it may, we’ll have to take the risk. We can’t wait any longer.” He stood, went to the wet bar, and poured himself two fingers of scotch. “Our overseas friends are becoming anxious for their delivery and I want my goddamned money.”

He didn’t say that if he failed, his life wouldn’t be worth the ink on his birth certificate.

“Unlike real terrorists, who just want glory.” Tio smirked, showing the gap in his front teeth. “Nice spin, by the way.”

Dietz raised his glass in a toast. “Wasn’t it? I should win a frigging Oscar.” He drained the amber liquid, relishing the fire that burned all the way to his gut.

The other man regarded him thoughtfully. “All these months wasted babysitting St. Laurent when we could’ve moved by now. We’re damned lucky Ross is still grieving and hasn’t returned to the helm yet. He comes within a mile of this and he’ll smell it in an instant.”

“First of all, luck has nothing to do with my success. I don’t wait for breaks; I make them. Second, our next project will be to ensure our poor, distraught widower doesn’t return.”

Tio popped his big, scarred knuckles. “A plan I can get behind.”

“Good.” He slapped his highball glass onto the counter. “I’m already running this place, so we’ll make certain it becomes official.”

“Death to taxes and the weak.”

“I’ll drink to that, my butt-ugly friend.”

“We’re not friends.”

“You learn fast.” He pinned Tio with a steely glare until the other man flinched first. “Keep it up and you might live to spend your share.”

But I wouldn’t count on it.

After a nap and a shower, Jude felt much more together. Less off-balance. His odd melancholy had abated along with the pressure in his head, much to his relief. No migraine tonight and, with any luck, no nightmares. His mood lightened.

By the time Tamara arrived, more than his spirits had taken flight. No reason why he shouldn’t enjoy his evening. His libido had been on a slow boil all day and now he trembled in anticipation like a racehorse at the starting gate.

A knock from the hallway sounded and the door to his suite opened. “Jude? Tamara’s here,” Liam announced.

“In the flesh,” she said, swishing toward him.

Liam moved past them. “I’ll leave the champagne and glasses on the table by the window, along with a small tray of chocolate-covered strawberries to start.”

“Perfect, thanks.”

“When do you want dinner served?”

“Give us half an hour?”

“You got it.”

Jude considered inviting Liam to play later. His friend sometimes joined him for a ménage, and thoroughly enjoyed himself when he did. But Jude knew Liam preferred one threesome in particular. And that trio didn’t involve Jude.

Liam gave no indication he’d like to hang around, so Jude took his cue and let it go.

When the door clicked shut, Tamara ran her palms down the front of his dress shirt. “You seem different tonight.”

“Really? How so?”

“I’m not sure. More upbeat, maybe.”

“I suppose I am.” A wet tongue grazed his ear. “I’m not as tense as I’ve been. But then, you have that effect on me.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said in a low voice. She pressed into him, full breasts squashing against his chest. “You look scrumptious, all GQ in your white shirt and gray dress pants.”

“I clean up okay. What about you? What are you wearing?” Moving back a shade, he touched her hair, pleased to find it loose.

“Little red dress, clingy, way above midthigh. Plunging neckline. Matching high heels.”

His groin tingled, and he traced the swell of one breast. His other hand crept under the hem of the dress, up her smooth thigh to a bare ass cheek. “No underwear?”

“Thong.”

Groaning, he released her. “How am I supposed to get through our appetizer, much less dinner?”

She giggled. “There’s something to be said for willpower. The wait makes the fruit sweeter.”

“We’ll test the theory and draw out the anticipation, then. Want to sit?” He gestured in the general direction of the table.

“Yes. And what a lovely table it is, with the bubbly and the strawberries. Thank you, Jude.”

“Thank Liam. I just ask him to make it fabulous, and he does.”

“My compliments to him, in that case. I’ll tell him myself, later.”

Tamara poured the champagne and placed strawberries on little plates Liam provided. Jude sipped his drink and smiled in his date’s direction as she exclaimed over every small thing. She complimented his paintings as well, not mincing words that it would take some time to find his groove in developing his new style.

She was a refreshing, genuine woman, a charming companion, and he found himself having a good time. No matter how much he was looking forward to another taste of her lush body, he wouldn’t have tolerated her presence if he didn’t like her as a person. He wasn’t someone who could completely disassociate and just have sex without clicking with a lover. Even with a stranger, he had to find the other person interesting.

Liam outdid himself on dinner, and they ate, making small talk, the sexual tension stretching like a laser beam between them. When Jude finished his crème brûlée, he’d about reached his breaking point.