Dead No More

“Thanks, B.” She grabbed a wooden chair at the farthest table facing the door and sat, positioning herself to watch those who came and went through the tiny café. Ben joined her and also angled his seat to have an eye on the whole place. She grinned. Once an agent, always an agent.

She noticed the file in his hands and sighed—it was just as tiny as hers. “What did you get?”

“Not much.” He tossed it on the table. “At least nothing that anyone with a computer, internet access and a normal IQ couldn’t have stumbled upon. My guys are still working on it, but they need to be careful. You?”

Lily wasn’t surprised. Gaining information about this guy had been trickier than she’d imagined. Which begged the question: Who was he? She pulled out the small file she’d scrounged together, handed it to Ben. “I couldn’t risk back-channeling into 67’s computer mainframe yet—”

“Smart.”

“—but my facial-recognition software got a hit early this morning. Our pretty boy is one Derek Moretti, retired Air Force pilot, now supposedly working as an FBI forensic psychologist for BAU. Interesting cover story, but I, for the record, would have gone with something a little more...” Lily took a sip of her latte and set the mug down, searching for the appropriate word. Finally, she looked up and smiled. “Badass.”

“Badass?” Ben deadpanned back, a single eyebrow raised.

Lily swirled the liquid heaven around in her mug, her mind drifting back to Derek. Obnoxious. Ballsy. Gorgeous. Arrogant. They all suited him, or what Lily knew of him, anyway, but to define Derek Moretti in a single, neat little package? Yeah, there was only one word in the English language that summed him up.

She raised the mug to her lips, took a sip and met Ben’s gaze over its orange rim. “Badass.”

Ben shook his head and flipped open the file. “What do you think he wanted?”

She pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Do you think Director Kennedy sent him as a cleaner?”

Lily doubted Kennedy wanted her dead. The director was just as determined to get her back into his court as she was to ignore him. But if for some reason she’d fallen completely out of grace with her former boss, and Kennedy wanted her eliminated, she’d be withering away in some undisclosed location or sinking to the bottom of the ocean with a bullet in her head, not drinking a latte.

“No...” She let her voice trail off as she studied the printout of Derek staring into the surveillance camera on the table.

Black Ops? Definitely. Part of 67? Probably. Sent by the director? She didn’t know, which bothered her. But a simple FBI profiler? Yeah, right. And she was the queen of freakin’ England.

Ben peered over the edge of the file, his brown eyes searching her face. “Think this guy will approach you again?”

“Yes, but on his own terms, in his own time.” She took another sip of her steaming drink. “Until then, have your guys stay on it to see what they come up with, and I’ll work on burrowing down on Derek.”

“Be careful not to trip any internal security measures.”

“Ben—”

“I know.” He held up his hands in mock defense. “I know who I’m talking to, but sometimes even the best need to be reminded they aren’t invincible.”

Lily winced. No one needed to remind her of that—the nightly reoccurring dream of her free fall did that just fine.

Ben looked at his watch, pushed back from the table and rose. “Need to finish this conversation later, my regulars will be here any moment.” Rounding the counter, he started prepping a new pot of drip coffee. “Just be careful, Lil. He already got the drop on you once.”

“Don’t I know it.” Lily rubbed her shoulder. She’d been out of the game for far too long. “Apparently I’m a little rusty.”

Ben glanced up, his face solemn. “Or he’s just that good.”

“I’d rather think I’m rusty.” Considering he was that good made her feel as if a million ants scurried over her. No one got the drop on her. Or at least they never had before.

She needed time to figure out her mystery man’s next move before he made it. And to clarify the raging thoughts sparring in her head. She’d woken up still annoyed that he’d found her, yet wanting him to find her again so she could differentiate the truth from the bullshit...and get a second look at him, if she were being truly honest with herself.

“Mind if I jump behind the counter after I’m done with this?” She raised her latte. “I could use the mindless—”

Ben shot her a glare. “It’s not mindless.”

“Come on, B. Compared to what we’ve been trained to do? This is mindless. I’m not knocking it. But really?” She enjoyed teasing the tall ex-ranger, even if it was as dangerous as poking a sleeping, cranky lion. She couldn’t resist—putting a smile on that hard, windswept face was a challenge she’d been tackling since she was five.

“It’s not mindless,” he muttered.

In Lily’s opinion, the day the doctors delivered their devastating news to Ben was the day Unit 67 lost their greatest asset. A piece of shrapnel from his last encounter in the sandbox lodged too close to his heart for the doctors to safely remove. One misplaced jostle, and Ben was a goner. Given their line of work, he’d had no choice but to hang up his guns. If not for that news, Lily was positive he’d still be out in the field, or at least training the next up-and-coming agents.

She took a small sip of the molten liquid. She loved him. He was family. She’d do anything for him. And how could she not? He’d saddled up when most people had stepped out.

Lily got it. Many people didn’t know how to deal with grief, couldn’t handle the searing heartbreak of tragedy. Most reverted to awkward conversations, eye avoidance and painful silence. Or simply vanished.

Not that she could blame them.

Death was a bitch.

But Lily would be forever indebted to that big, bald and way-too-serious man who’d stepped in when she’d lost everything...and stayed.

* * *

ONCE SHE’D DOWNED her drink, Lily set up behind the coffee bar and took orders. As she handed a skinny vanilla latte to a young girl, the door chime dinged and Derek Moretti walked in, flashing a grin her way. A strange sensation fluttered in Lily’s stomach as he walked up to the counter, flipped open the menu and perused it.

She flicked her gaze to the seating area and searched for Ben. He’d want to know that their profiler had found her. Again.

Ben leaned against the back wall, looking warm and approachable in his navy cable-knit sweater and worn jeans, chatting it up with some of his regulars. They were nodding their heads in agreement with something he’d said. Lily sighed. There was no way to get his attention. Great. So much for that idea.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?”

Derek looked up from the menu and set it down. An easy grin curved his lips up, deep dimples forming in both cheeks. “Easy. You.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lily propped her hip against the counter, crossed her arms and couldn’t help but smile back. His sheer proximity was chipping away at her resolve, despite her best intentions to remain aloof.

He reached out his hand. “Derek Moretti. But you already know that, don’t you?”

She studied Derek, then sighed. No use being rude. Leaning forward, she reached out her hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers and gently squeezed. Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t been touched in...well, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched her, other than George and Ben, who clearly didn’t count.

Derek’s hand was large and covered hers completely. Calluses rubbed against the soft skin of her palm. His touch was possessive, yet gentle, and a wave of security washed over her. She’d all but forgotten the warm feeling that seeped through her body at the simplest human touch—a man’s touch. The flutter in her stomach returned with a vengeance.

Don’t squirm. Don’t squirm.

Without letting go, he cocked his head to the side and quietly studied her. Lily blinked, trying—and failing—to break the pull he had on her. What was hiding behind those blue eyes? And why couldn’t she resist their draw?

Hell no. Human touch or not, she couldn’t go there. Not ever again.

The last man she’d let in tried to kill her.

Lily extracted her hand from his grasp. The flutter died out, followed closely on its heels by a dull, empty ache. “I’m not interested.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to propose.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. And she was interested, very interested. In the man silently studying her, in the way every cell in her body sizzled whenever he was near and in whatever he was after.

“Well, maybe you’d reconsider—” He reached behind him, and she tensed automatically. Derek quickly held up his hands. “Whoa. Relax. I’m just reaching for my wallet.”

“Course,” she muttered as a flush burned her cheeks.

Derek pointed at his wallet. “May I?”

“Of course, sorry about that.”

He pulled out a business card, placed it on the counter and slid it across. “When you’re ready to listen, call me.” He smiled softly, turned and headed for the exit. Without looking back, he waved as he left the café.

Lily picked up the card and spun it between her fingers. What are you after, Derek Moretti? She chewed on her lip and watched him through the front windows, unable to deny the effect he had on her. Everything about him, down to his swagger, made her squirm like a hormonal teenager.

“He want to read you in on a case?” Ben approached her, hands pushed into his sweater’s front pockets.

Lily quickly shoved the card into her back pocket and shrugged before reaching for a rag to rub down the counter. “Even if he is, I’m not sure I’m interested.”

“Why?”

“Come on, B.” Lily glanced over at the old couple and lowered her voice. “The last guy I worked with tried to kill me. Remember?”

“I know, Lil.” He went to the espresso machine. “But not everyone is Jackson.”

Ben was right. Not every man on the planet was a traitor, and there was no trying to skirt him—he knew her better than she probably knew herself at this point. Lily blew out a sigh. She was interested. She just didn’t know enough about the man who’d just blown into her life to do anything about it.

Yet.

* * *

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Lily sat in the corner of Ben’s café and enjoyed another tall latte. A shadow passed behind her closed eyes and Lily slowly opened them, expecting to see Ben towering over her. Derek smiled down instead. For the second time that day, Lily found herself drowning in the endless sea of blue staring down at her. It stole the air from her lungs.

She set down her mug. “Oh, for the love of God.”

“Hello again.”

“Apparently you have a death wish.”

“Just doing what’s necessary.” A slight smirk crossed his face as he dragged out the chair across from her and sank into it, leaning onto his elbows. “And you and I both know you won’t draw a gun on me.”

“After your little stunt yesterday? And just showing up here? Twice?” Lily eyed the man sitting in front of her. “I’d consider it.”

“You loved it, and no, you won’t.”

He had her there—she had never pulled the trigger based on emotion, nor would she ever. The heat of his lips flashed through her mind, as did the searing memory of his body pressed against hers, and she felt a tingle up her spine. If he’d left that kind of impression when he’d hijacked her, what would he do if she willingly went into his arms?

She shifted in her seat, ignoring the bizarre and very vivid mental picture. “How do you know so much about me?”

“You know the answer to that.” He pushed his chair onto two legs, laced his fingers together and propped his head back.

“I told you I wasn’t interested, so why are you back?”

“Yes. You did.” He grinned and let the chair drop to all fours. He leaned forward. “But here’s the deal. Your reputation precedes you, even after going to ground. Believe it or not, you’re still 67’s best asset, and I need your unmatched ability...to become someone else.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Really.”

“I’d gather the information myself, but I can’t risk blowing my cover. So my hands are tied.” He shrugged, laced his fingers again and returned to his casual pose. “We need the intel to crack open a case, and I need to protect my asset. As much as I’d like to think I’m invincible, I know my limits.”

What? You’re not superhuman? Lily opened her mouth to let her internal monologue out to play, but Derek held up his hand, sending her a dry look. “Let me finish before you shoot me down.”

She clamped her mouth shut.

“As I was saying,” Derek said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “My client is too high a government asset to roll the dice and play Lone Ranger on this. So here I am. All but begging for your help. Which, for the record, I don’t do. Ever.”

“I’m not working for 67 anymore. Does Kennedy even know you’re here talking to me?”

“Did the director know every asset you pulled in while working an op?” Derek countered without missing a beat.

Lily studied the man in front of her. “Fair enough. But why not pull in someone else who’s still on 67’s payroll?”

“Easy. I don’t need anyone else.” He settled into his chair and drilled her with his steely gaze. “I need you.”

She squirmed in her seat. Wow, she needed a life. Or a boyfriend. Or both. She knew he meant her skills, not her body. But still...

“Well?”

She cleared her throat, banishing the sexy thoughts romping through her brain. “I’m done—”

He reached across the table, grabbed her hands and grinned at her appealingly. “Please. Don’t make me beg.”

The same jolt that rushed through her the last time he’d touched her surged again. She slowly withdrew her fingers from his grip, but couldn’t help noticing the thrill of the game rush through her. He’d piqued her interest, captured her attention and drawn her in.

How had this stranger managed—in less than twenty-four hours, no less—to do exactly what Director Kennedy hadn’t been able to do over the past thirteen months?

“What do you want me to do?” She sat back. “If...I’m interested. Which I’m not saying I am.”

Yeah, right. Who was she kidding? Clearly not the man sitting across from her, who was doing his best—and failing miserably—to conceal the grin that spread across his face. A deep dimple appeared as his smile grew. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her own grin from escaping onto her lips.

“I want you to do what you do better than anyone—get close to my client’s partner, Rowland James.”

“That’s it?” She tipped her head to the side and eyed him. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”

“Because there is.”

His transparent, candid nature both fascinated and shocked her.

Derek glanced around. “But I can’t go into details here.”

And there it was: the tight-lipped, possessive behavior she’d grown tired of before walking away from the agency. “Why not?”

“First, you haven’t agreed to anything yet. Second, and more important, there are too many ears.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “Would you go into details now, in this place?”

He’d nailed her. She’d never talk a case here—not with so many unknown people. And she wouldn’t share everything with him, even if they worked together. She wouldn’t do that again.

Not after last time.

“Fair enough. But at least throw me a bone.”

“We’ve intercepted some chatter that might or might not involve a national security breach. I can’t get close enough to Rowland to confirm or refute the chatter. My IC team is working around the clock, but they continue to come up empty. He’s a bit of a ladies’ man, and I figured...”

“You figured what? That I’d whore myself out to get information?” Lily’s face—and temper—flamed, all thoughts of Derek’s charm and sexiness gone. “Clearly you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

She got up, knocking the wooden chair against the desert sand-colored wall. Her whole body trembled with anger as she glared down at him. “Forget you found me. If you don’t, I promise you, you’ll regret it. I mean it, Derek. Don’t underestimate me. I’m not the same woman that you’ve read about in my file.”

Without another word, she stalked toward the door and slammed it on her way out.

CHAPTER SIX

Tuesday, September 16, 3:00 p.m.

WELL, THAT WENT WELL. Derek rubbed the back of his neck and watched Lily through the glass window until she got to the streetlight and rounded the corner, disappearing from his line of sight. He chuckled. She was going to make him work for her involvement, but he was up for the challenge. That brunette bombshell was totally worth it.

The file he’d pulled on Lily didn’t do her an ounce of justice. Not in her capacity. Not in her looks. Not in her feistiness. He’d enjoy working with this one—if he could get past that barrier she’d constructed around herself.

He reached for his phone and dialed.

“Is she in?” Director Kennedy asked without preamble.

Typical. Derek ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t say that, no.”

“What happened?”

Throwing out the “ladies man” card with her was a jackass move. Derek should’ve known it would rub Lily the wrong way. Nothing in her file indicated that she’d ever used sex to complete a mission. At first he’d scoffed at that. What agent didn’t use sex as a weapon, even as a last resort? But after watching her over the past few months and building his own jacket on her, he imagined that aspect of her to be true.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “She might or might not have walked out on me.”

“I told you she wouldn’t be easy to bridle,” the director snapped. “The girl’s got more sass in her little finger than most people have in their entire bodies. She can’t—make that won’t—be manhandled.”

“I definitely misjudged the sass quotient,” Derek muttered. Which was the understatement of the century. Lily Andrews was a firecracker of epic proportions. He’d never seen anyone—aside from his feisty Irish mother—go from calm to boiling in a single breath. If Lily wasn’t such a vital part of his case, he would have laughed at her explosion...and enjoyed the view as she left.

But he needed her. Without her, this mission would go to hell and he’d be screwed.

“Don’t underestimate her,” the director said. “She’s your equal. Treat her as such, and she’s yours. Don’t, and she’s as good as gone.”

“Yes, I gathered that.”

Kennedy sighed into the phone. “Hate to tell you this, but if Lily walked on you, you might have lost her for good.”

Derek wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily. He just needed to regroup. “I haven’t lost her.”

“What’s your next move?”

“Circle around. Come at her from another angle.”

“Good luck, and keep me posted.”

The line went dead.

Derek tossed the phone on the table. His 67 cover within the intelligence community as a profiler with the BAU wasn’t his first choice, but he’d learned how to read people better than anyone he knew—and Derek had picked up on the tightness in Kennedy’s voice. Why? What was eating at him?

Derek scrubbed his hands over his face. He craved movement, a shift, anything that would get him closer to completing his mission and moving the hell on. After his recent experience in Seattle, Omaha lacked the adventure he thrived on.

But Director Kennedy had specifically asked for him.

Turning down a “request” like that wasn’t an option, not as a 67 agent. So here he was, landlocked in the middle of the country, spinning his wheels like a freaking hamster on a wheel, going nowhere fast. And it was getting old.

His mission in Omaha was a bit more complicated than what he’d just revealed to Lily. And when she’d asked if Kennedy knew Derek was speaking to her, he thought he’d blown it. The fifteen seconds she took to contemplate his response were the longest seconds in his life. He wasn’t there to gather intel on Rowland James alone—the director had specifically asked Derek to keep an eye on Lily—to ensure she didn’t inadvertently stumble into the crosshairs of a killer—issuing a gag order on that latter half of Derek’s happy little assignment from hell.

Simple enough, right?

Hardly.

Nothing was simple when it came to Lily Andrews. He knew what haunted her long into the evenings. What pushed her to pace in front of the tall windows of her loft late into the night. And he couldn’t blame her. Losing a partner to treason, and having no answers to the million questions whirling around, would shake even the toughest, most seasoned agent.

He’d tracked and memorized her mundane routine within a week: Keystone Café, running trail, shooting range, home. She’d switch up the order occasionally, especially after burning the candle into the early morning hours, but never the activities.

Which Derek appreciated.

It simplified his objective: keep watch over Lily.

The only problem? The more he watched, the harder he fell. Which was trouble. Lily was trouble. Without knowing it, she’d gotten to him, settled into his bones and turned his world upside down.

He looked up, caught Ben’s steady gaze and nodded in his direction. The tall, bald man didn’t return the gesture. Great. How was it possible that he’d pissed off both of them? Derek could engage with a tree. He knew no stranger. It was part of what made him so good at his job, yet here he was grasping at straws.

Time to do some serious damage control, because he’d just crashed and burned. Twice. Derek rose from his chair and made his way over to the counter.

Ben didn’t move.

Derek knew exactly who was staring him down, and Unit 67’s infamous Benjamin Tinsdale was not the man you wanted to go up against in a brawl. Of any sort. Derek swallowed his grin. Now was not the time to go toe-to-toe with this alpha.

“Good work on the shop.” Derek glanced around. “I like it in here.”

Ben crossed his arms over his barrel chest, tucked his hands under his armpits, didn’t smile. “What can I get you?”

Fantastic. He’d significantly angered this mountain of a man when he’d ticked Lily off. “Doppio macchiato.”

Ben turned toward the espresso machine, glanced into the mirror behind the coffee bar and watched Derek as he pulled the caramel-colored shots. “Be careful with that one.” He spoke in a low, deliberate tone.

What the hell? Derek caught that underlying threat. He hadn’t expected Ben to go there. This guy wasn’t messing around. Derek filed that away and switched gears. “It was just a friendly conversation.”

“Yeah, and I’m the fucking Dalai Lama.” Ben passed Derek his coffee. “I’d advise you to find someone else to have a friendly conversation with.”

Derek handed Ben a five-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Moretti.”

The hair bristled on the back of Derek’s neck. Legend or not, Ben was no longer active and had no say in what Derek did or did not do on a case. Derek took a deep breath, toned down the internal sarcasm before he answered the man glowering at him. He needed Ben on his side, not as an enemy. Might as well learn to play nice. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Like hell he would. With the undercurrent at ARME Industries rapidly shifting and the tension between his boss and Rowland James heating up, Derek really needed to read Lily in on this case. And sooner rather than later.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tuesday, September 16, 8:00 p.m.

WHAT A NIGHTMARE. Every time Lily closed her eyes, she could see the blue of Derek’s. She could feel the warmth of his hands, his lips. Her heart raced at the sheer memory of his touch. She sat at the baby grand, her fingers flying over the smooth ivory. Her form of therapy. When everything around her seemed to fall apart, she’d lose herself in the soft melodies of Chopin. As her fingers raced, her mind flew to the past.