JT took a long breath and let it out. “Maybe partly. It gets easier over the years, but then something will remind me that she’s gone and I don’t know where she is. After all this time, I know she’s probably dead, but I wish I knew.”
“Chelsea is heartsick that she can’t find a trace of her,” Alex said. “It was one of the reasons she left the Agency and started this company with Adam.”
“But some people, despite all of our best efforts, are never found. We lose some, and that’s the hardest part of this job. We don’t always win, but we get up the next day and we strap on our armor and go back into the fight.” Tag gestured toward the hall that led to the master bedroom. “That’s what Nina does. You need to decide if that’s what you want. I’m not saying you can’t have an amazing partner if she doesn’t also snipe the bad guys. Avery O’Donnell is one of the finest women I’ve ever met, and she knows to duck when the bullets fly. Her strength is different but no less powerful. Nina needs to do her job to feel whole and complete. She will also need a partner who trusts her enough, who loves her enough, to take those risks with her.”
“And that might not be you,” Alex said with nauseating sympathy. “You should think about it.”
“I really do think Michael can do this.” Tag’s voice was soft, offering him a way out. “And he does need a haircut.”
He shook his head and finally took a long swig of that Scotch. It burned down his throat. “No. I’m going in with her. I’m going to find a way to win her back.”
Tag nodded as though he approved. “Excellent. Then you’re going to need a plan. Now let me tell you exactly how I kept my Charlie loose for her mission.”
Alex groaned and dropped his head down to the bar.
JT only half listened as Big Tag gave him way too much information. His mind was on the mission. His mission.
He was going to win her back. He had to because he’d realized nothing mattered more than Nina. Not even his fear of losing her.
Chapter Nine
Nina looked out over the beautifully decorated lanai and wished she was in a good place with JT because this island was seriously romantic. But they weren’t here for romance. He was holding court with a group from his leadership team and she’d spent the last few hours trying to get to a mental place where she could be cool and collected. It had been a full day since she’d learned he’d lied to her, and she wished that knowledge made him even a little bit less attractive. He was dressed in slacks and a white button-down sans tie for this welcome cocktail party. Before they’d come down, she’d been forced to watch him walk around without a shirt on as he’d listened to Deanna go over a seemingly endless list of notes she’d made concerning the cocktail party they were about to attend. JT’s assistant hadn’t cared that they’d been running late and he needed to get dressed. She’d simply followed him around the big suite while he’d changed and stood outside the bathroom door when he’d needed some privacy.
Now Deanna was the one standing beside him, a glass of wine in her hand because Nina couldn’t make herself do her damn job.
“I give it a month and the English chick is back in London,” a woman said to her right.
Nina went still. There was a large potted palm tree between her and whoever was talking. It concealed her and allowed her to listen in.
“I don’t know. I think she’s pretty,” another feminine voice said. “She actually reminds me a little of Ava Malone.”
“Only because she’s British,” the first woman argued. “She definitely doesn’t have Ava’s instincts. If someone like Deanna got her claws into David Malone, Ava would have sent her packing long ago. I don’t know what’s happening, but I suspect Deanna will get rid of the Brit in no time at all.”
Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have a chance to set Deanna straight because in a couple of days she would be back on a plane to the States, and on another one to England not long after that. She didn’t have a reason to stay behind.
“Would you like a drink, Ms. Banks?”
She heard a sharp gasp and turned. The gasp had come from the gossiping women while the question was from someone who should have known better. The CIA operative named Drake stood in front of her, dressed in his server’s uniform, a tray of drinks in his hand.
Even as she could hear the women moving away, she sent Drake a look to let him know she didn’t appreciate the interference. But she could use a drink. “Yes, I’ll take a martini. Gin. Up with a twist.”
It looked like she would need it.
He frowned and tipped his tray her way. “But I have piña coladas.”
“Then you’re useless to me.” She glanced back and JT was busy listening to an older man talk about the best golf courses. All three of their suspects were in the room, and it didn’t look like they would be going anywhere. She could take a moment to check in with her team.
She strode toward the back of the large room to the big bar where Sandra Croft was mixing drinks. Luckily, everyone in the group seemed to be busy with their conversations. There were waiters winding through the party with drinks and appetizers, and no one was sitting at the bar. Sandra looked up from her blender and smiled Nina’s way, sliding a martini glass in front of her.
They were alone with a good fifty feet between them and the party, so she hopped onto a barstool. “Thank god. I was
