Page 29 of Undercover Agent

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“Watch where you’re going!” someone shouted at me as I came out the side door of the building and into a throng of people. I stood out of the way until enough had passed that I could cross Boylston.

As I walked past the corner market, my gaze met Rashid’s, further raising my ire.

How in the hell could I feel so possessive of a woman with whom I’d spent less time than either Saint or Rashid had?

“You look like I feel,” I heard someone say, and looked up to see Irish raising a pint in my direction. That was exactly what I fancied now, perhaps with several shots of Irish whiskey to chase it.

After stopping by the bar, I took my pint and shot out to the patio where Irish sat.

“I didn’t expect to see you again tonight,” he said as I pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Nor I, you.” What was he doing here, anyway?

“I guess I know why you asked how close Emme and I are this morning.”

“It isn’t what you think.”

Irish shook his head. “I said I’d like that to change once the mission was over. You decided not to wait.”

I was in no mood to justify anything between Emerson and myself, particularly since it appeared that Saint had bested both Irish and I for her attention.

“We’ve met once before,” I told him, regretting that I did as soon as the words left my mouth. What happened between me and the woman I could see gazing out her window at us was none of Irish’s business.

“Have you come to any decisions about who to use for Saint and Dr. Benjamin’s extraction?” he asked, following my line of sight.

I nodded. “A private firm.”

“Who’s heading it up?”

“Decker Ashford and Cortez DeLéon.”



“Heard they started a new group. Some bullshit name like the Invincibles or something.”

“That is correct,” I said, deciding not to comment on his disparaging remark, in part because I agreed with it. Their official name was the Invincible Intelligence and Security Group.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

As luck would have it, when I rang Decker Ashford earlier, he informed me the rest of the team was with him in Texas. “They’ll be here in the morning.”

Irish took another drink of his beer. “About Emme?—”

“She was seeing Saint.”

Irish’s mouth hung open. “No shit?”

I didn’t respond.

“How much does she know?” he asked.

“Only that there was a brush pass, but not the details of it.” I was in no position to give Irish orders; however, I hoped he wouldn’t let on what she had no reason to know—at least not yet.

He drained the rest of the beer from his glass and set it on the table. “Early start tomorrow,” he muttered by way of explanation I suppose. I nodded my head slowly, but my eyes stayed focused on the beautiful figure who appeared again in the window.

Once Irish was gone, I slowly raised my hand, just to see if she’d acknowledge I did so. Her only response was to walk away.