Ella had only gotten a quick glimpse of the MI6 officer at the airport, so she wasn’t prepared for the woman who came walking into the living room alongside Jack. Already taller than average, her black ankle boots with thick wedge heels gave her another boost. And were those thousand-dollar Gucci boots? Yup, Ella noted, spying the signature Gucci logo. Well, this woman definitely had class. And money.
A thick mass of soft waves the color of whiskey fell nearly to her waist, a beautiful contrast against the red peacoat she wore. But what had Ella standing to her feet were the agent’s startling green eyes. They were a clear, deep green, like that of a flawless emerald and just as breathtaking. And at the moment, those eyes were burning a hole into Carter’s back.
“Hi.” Annnd, I’m such a dork. In spite of feeling like an awkward country girl in front of this elegant creature, Ella rounded the coffee table and came closer to their “guest,” all the while mentally sizing her for an Ella Hawkins design. Which, unfortunately, only reminded her of Henry Rochella’s lies and manipulation. Sixtieth follower my ass.
“Ella.” The woman nodded her acknowledgement because, of course, she knew Ella’s name. But her green eyes were still burning that hole through Carter’s pressed white button-down. He was the only man in the room in formal dress, as if auditioning for Daniel Craig’s replacement in the next Bond movie. Now that she thought about it, Carter had been wearing those same clothes under his “battle armor” at Rochella’s.
“Still drinking on the job, I see.” The British accent made the jab sound congenial when this woman, whose name they’d yet to learn, was giving off vibes that were anything but pleasant. She was clearly pissed off and thoroughly irritated with Carter—if her body language and burning gaze directed at him were anything to go by.
Back still to the room, Carter casually lifted a hand in the air. “Everyone, meet Zoey. Zoey, this is everyone.”
“Are we okay with her being here?” Jack spoke up, moving farther into the room to where Gray and Sydney stood by a row of laptops on the oak table near the fireplace.
“I don’t know what to think,” Jesse said, breezing past Zoey without so much as a glance, hurrying to Ella as if their guest was a potential threat. At least he’d stowed his weapon after Jack had radioed them of their unexpected visitor.
Griffin must’ve felt the same as Jesse because he made haste and sat next to Savanna.
Ella remained standing, unable to tear her focus from Zoey. The name fit her perfectly—beautiful and mystical. Ella knew it meant “life” in Greek, and there was no denying Zoey had a presence. She would also really look killer in one of the dresses from Ella’s “winter collection” of designs. Maybe the light blue silk would soften the woman’s “Fuck you, Carter” look she had going on.
When Jesse’s hand went to the small of Ella’s back, she realized she was wearing a tee she’d designed that proclaimed, Bless Your Heart on the front in sparkly red letters. She’d always loved the shirt, but standing next to this Zoey person, it made her feel unrefined. But the comforting touch of Jesse’s palm lightly moving up and down her back quickly erased that thought.
Ella zipped her focus to Carter when he finally faced the room, a bottle of Glenlivet scotch in hand. He poured a generous portion into the tumbler in his other hand without lifting his gaze to their visitor. “Who sent you?”
“No one, you cold-hearted bastard.” Well, that delivery was a bit rougher than Zoey’s first one. “Put the drink down and look at me.”
Carter took his time lifting the glass to his mouth without meeting her eyes. He didn’t seem worried about her presence, nor did he give a damn about pissing the woman off.
Ella looked up at Jesse, trying to get a read on him, but when she followed his gaze, his attention was fixed on the bottle of scotch.
“You have sixty seconds to explain why you’re here before we escort you out,” Carter said, his tone flat. Even-tempered. Like she was a bothersome fly he was swatting away.
Ella had witnessed Carter’s stony expressions before, but this felt different. Almost like he was actually trying to be a jerk when maybe he didn’t want to be. The fact this woman’s presence led Carter to drink on the job had to mean something though.
She’d overheard the guys say Zoey had punched him a few times back in that DGSE holding room, but hadn’t that been for show so that she could whisper intel into his ear? Wasn’t she on their side?
Ella’s shoulders slumped. Or was that all part of the intricate plan concocted by the alphabet soup of agencies involved?
“The eyes in the sky gave you permission to roll on up? They sent you?” Gray stepped forward, hands sliding into the pockets of his khakis as he fixed his attention on Zoey.
“No, but they didn’t stop me. Obviously.” Zoey faced Gray since Carter refused to give her his attention. “I’ve been suspended. My boss, and Thatcher, realized I shared intel with Carter at the—”
“Suspended? Really.” Sarcasm from Carter. Not a good sign. Nor was the second drink he was already pouring himself after quickly polishing off the first. “That was an act. They wanted you in that room with me. Make it look like we were on the same side. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Zo.” Ella caught him wince after he’d said the nickname, but the stony expression was back in seconds. And what did that mean?
Ella thought back to their arrival in Paris. Jack, or maybe Oliver, had joked about what Carter might have done to earn this woman’s hostility. And were they on the brink of finding out?
Carter turned his gaze to Zoey, and the room went still. The tension between them was razor sharp and molasses thick, sucking up all the air in the room.
“I’m not bullshitting you.” Zoey took two confident steps farther into the room but kept herself at a comfortable distance from the lion staring back at her like his duty was to complete the circle of life. Chew her up and spit her out. Send her on her merry way in about three seconds. Yeah, that cool, calm look of his was gone the closer Zoey came, and now Ella knew why he hadn’t wanted to face her until now. He’d have shown his hand, exposed his . . . emotions. “You know why I’m here. You know why I had no choice but to come.”
“I also know you’ll let your quest for vengeance get us all killed,” Carter hissed.
Vengeance? Ella looked back and forth between the two dominant personalities as they faced off, then scanned the room. Everyone seemed to be in the same boat as Ella. Unsure what to say, if anything at all.
“You’ve been hunting The Chechen for years, Zoey. And now you think you have a shot at getting to him through me.” Carter set the bottle and his glass on the bar before stalking toward her. “I won’t let you die for him.”
“You can’t stop me.” Zoey lifted her chin in defiance. “And it’s been clear over the years that you stopped giving a damn about helping me.” Zoey’s voice faltered as the first sign of emotion slipped through. “You got your vengeance for your wife’s killer, but you failed to keep your promise to help me get mine for Preston.”
Preston? Ella shot Savanna a quick worried look, checking to make sure she was okay. If Zoey lost a man she loved, it might bring on a wave of emotions for Savanna if she were to sit through this conversation. Memories of her own loss would likely roll through her mind like a tsunami.