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PROLOGUE
Nashville, Tennessee
Twenty-eight months ago
He would be here soon.
Excitement zoomed through her, and she could only laugh with sheer joy at the feeling. How long had it been since she’d felt this young and carefree? Years?
Silly, really. She wasn’t all that old, but in many ways, she felt ancient. Having seen more death and destruction than one should see in a hundred lifetimes had done that. Well, that along with running for her life more times than she could count. A person in covert ops didn’t get a lot of downtime to think about dating and the more enjoyable things of life.
That was going to change, though. She was out of that business for good. No black ops. No hiding in an underground bunker for days on end, waiting for rescue or a way to escape. No more MREs and bad coffee, and no more bedbugs! She could go where she wanted to go, eat what she wanted to eat, and sleep all day long if she so desired. Not that she would do that. A lifetime of discipline would have her up before dawn each day, but at least it wasn’t to go out to some hellhole filled with blood and grief.
Yes, from now on, life would be filled with joy, not sadness.
Her team had been surprised that she’d left the spy game. She had been in the business since she was twenty years old. She had loved parts of it. There was nothing more challenging than outwitting evil. But it was time for her to live—time to see how normal people lived. She had to say that, so far, it didn’t suck.
Layla Templeton stood in front of the mirror and preened. She was a pretty woman, no one could deny that fact. Obtaining intel from people sometimes involved seduction, and she had often used her looks to get what she needed. No more, though. When she dressed up now, it would be for herself—and perhaps her lover, maybe even a husband someday. But using her beauty for anything devious was in the past.
The summer dress was feminine and on the frilly side. She twirled, enjoying how the material danced around her legs like gossamer clouds. Her legs, among her best features, looked spectacular in the three-inch pale peach heels. Her thick auburn hair—also one of her assets—had grown longer over the past couple of months, now reaching almost to her shoulders. She wanted to grow it out, long and flowing. She’d always worn it short for convenience and time. But now she had all the time in the world.
She leaned forward and examined her face. Was she wearing too much makeup? She had wanted to look fresh and natural, which surprisingly took more time than she’d anticipated. She took a step back, deciding she didn’t care. She liked her look, and that was all that mattered.
Olivia would be so pleased to know that Layla had a date. She hadn’t talked to her friend in weeks, but as soon as this date ended, she would grab a burner phone and spend hours chitchatting the way girlfriends were supposed to talk.
The other team members didn’t yet know she’d moved to Nashville. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t told them. It wasn’t as if she didn’t love all of them—well, most of them—but she and Liv had been the only two women on a seven-person team. They had shared secrets their male counterparts would never understand. Someday soon, she might let the others know, but for right now, it was just between the two of them.
The doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock on her dresser. Yikes, he was fifteen minutes early. It was a good thing she was always early, too. Being late in the spy game was never a good thing. She grinned at her reflection then turned away. Feeling ridiculously giddy, she headed to the door.
She was anxious to see if he was as cute as she remembered after meeting him yesterday. The mysterious man with the engaging grin and studious glasses had bumped into her at the coffee shop, causing her to spill her latte all over him. He had apologized profusely, and before she’d known it, they’d been sitting across from each other, talking like old friends. Never had she felt such an immediate connection.
Two hours later, they’d taken their leave from each other, but not before making a date for the next night. This was going to be a brand-new adventure for her. New city. New home. New man.
Happy for the first time in forever, she opened the door. In an instant, she jerked back, the smile of welcome freezing on her face as she stared up at her worst nightmare.
“What…”
“Whaaaat?” he said mockingly. “You used to be much more verbose.”
She took another step back, and he watched as she prepared to spring into action. She was one of the most lethal women he’d ever known. He’d had a hand in helping her get that way, so he knew what to expect.
He was on her before she could make her next move. Twisting both her arms behind her back, he slammed the door shut with his foot. And then he just looked down at her, grinning. “It’s been a long time, baby.”
“Not long enough,” she gritted out.
“Is that any way to treat an old lover? I just knew you’d be overjoyed to see me.”
A smile spread across her face, erasing her earlier antipathy. “I am. Let me go, and let’s have ourselves a little reunion.”
He marveled at her skill. Instead of looking terrified, she now seemed calm, almost happy to see him. It was a lie, of course. They hadn’t parted as friends. Had never been friendly even during their short stint as lovers. But all of that was water under the bridge now. He had a job to do—and she was the job.
“Sorry, sweets. No time for hugs and kisses.”
He had her body locked so those lethal arms and legs of hers were rendered useless. He took a moment and stared down into her fathomless eyes. Hatred, pure unadulterated hatred, spat from their depths. She truly was an exceptional-looking woman. So much life and fire in her animated features. What would those features look like when she was no longer breathing? He squeezed tighter, suddenly eager to find out.
The glimpse of fear he saw in her face was a powerful motivator. It took less than a minute to do the deed. Her broken body slipped from his arms and collapsed onto the floor.
He looked down at her. He’d once felt affection for her. Maybe he’d even been in love. Since he’d never loved anyone, maybe he just hadn’t recognized the emotion. He’d never killed a friend before. Yeah, he’d killed people he knew, but none of them had been people he’d actually felt anything but hatred for. But this one? Yeah, she had been different.
