Page 3 of Nothing to Fear

Gideon’s pulse spiked, his insides doing a one-eighty just hearing her name.

“A sharp cryptologist. Talented programmer. Skilled hacker.” Maddox rubbed her brow. “I don’t get a malicious read from Harper, but she’s a loner. A textbook red flag. And she made critical mistakes during the last op that can’t be ignored. She was also the one who redesigned our firewalls.” Knowing gazes were exchanged. “She could dig into our network without leaving a trace.”

All true, but Gideon’s intuition—or whatever he had relied on to stay alive in this brutal job for ten years—protested. Willow Harper was no mole. Or a murderer.

There was an awkwardness about her that he found genuine. Refreshing. Her modest charm hid a loneliness he recognized. But he kept his distance. She was refined and had a gift for creating elegant programs. He was rough around the edges and had a knack for terminating threats. They were different breeds.

“I can try reeling her in with my charm and repartee,” Alistair said. “If a friendly approach doesn’t work, I can always use a bit of pressure to crack her odd shell.”

Gideon choked on the chewing gum slipping down his throat. What the—

“I should have a go at her,” Ares said. “I’m the one who’s been surveilling her.”

A snowball’s chance in hell either would succeed. Ares was a bull in a china shop, and his atomic intimidation factor would render her mute. Alistair’s crass tongue and droll facade wouldn’t scratch her shell. The team couldn’t squander time on the speed bumps of their failures.

“Applying pressure is my specialty.” Gideon’s voice was low and cool. He was the only one in the group trained in interrogation. The cruel kind at CIA black sites. “I’ll take Willow.”

The room flatlined. Everyone’s attention snapped to him, wary looks surfacing.

“Willow?” Ares chortled. Even his grim laugh could scare someone shitless.

Gideon could count on one hand the times he’d spoken to her beyond a passing salutation. On the rare occasions he had mentioned her, it’d been by surname. How he thought of her was a different story. Letting that slip was unlike him.

Gideon shrugged. “Getting on a first-name basis is logical. I’ll need to get close.” Willow had rolled off his tongue smoother and sweeter than soft-serve ice cream. Something about her inspired whimsical thoughts and deranged hope for a drop of goodness in his life.

Maddox’s insightful green-eyed gaze pinned him. His best friend saw through people, picked up on the things others sought to hide, and she knew him better than anyone. He wanted to squirm under the dissection of her scalpel-sharp scrutiny but merely flexed his jaw.

“If Harper isn’t the leak, she doesn’t deserve you on her tail.” Maddox shook her head. “I’ve seen how you look at her. I know how you’ll handle this.”

Really? He didn’t. Arching a brow, he waited.

“The lover angle,” she said. “It’s the wrong play. We don’t know enough about her—whether she’s into girls or guys or no one at all. And if you’re her type and she’s not our traitor, heaven help her.”

He knew what she was saying. One-night stands and no attachments suited him. No one got burned. No one got a chance to see the truth about him—not since his late wife, and she’d been terrified.

“Give me some credit. I’ll feel her out and determine how to play it, but the reality is lovers fosters intimacy faster than other methods. Yields more reliable results too.”

Not that he’d ever worked a honey trap before, and sleeping with Willow hadn’t been on his agenda. Walking into the conference room, he hadn’t even planned on getting within two feet of her, never mind taking her as a target. But after observing her the last three years—her unfaltering work ethic, how she interacted with others, avoided office politics—he had an advantage the others didn’t. He knew Willow’s character.

Maddox drew her dark curls into a ponytail, accentuating the striking features of her golden-brown face. “I have a hunch Harper is innocent. If she’s cleared, she still has to work with you. The situation could get messy. Ugly. I don’t like it.”

Gideon shared her concern. There was something wholesome yet complex about Willow. He wanted to protect her, not hurt her. Out of their other choices for the job, he was the best one.

“We’re at war,” Castle said. “We were supposed to be impenetrable, but the enemy is embedded, has been fooling us for years. If this isn’t resolved ASAP, heads are going to roll.”

A mole inside the CIA or FBI would be bad, but this was worse. Their off-the-books unit operated beyond the black-and-white lines of other agencies and at times beyond the law. They were sanctioned for direct action on foreign and domestic soil with access to the most classified data. A traitor selling secrets meant getting burned in the field, being spoon-fed false intel, and ultimately threat of exposure. Nasty possibilities piled up fast. This was a political nightmare that could end careers, starting at the very top.

“We don’t have the luxury of indulging a hunch,” Alistair said. “Sometimes we do bad things for good reasons.”

“This isn’t really your forte, Gideon,” Maddox said, pausing as if waiting for him to agree, but he held her gaze and his tongue. “Flirting and finesse,” she finally added.

Gideon was good at many things and some of those began with the letter F, but only his best friend knew he couldn’t flirt or finesse his way out of a paper bag.

To keep the others off Willow, however, he’d be willing to try.

“Are you kidding? If anyone can quickly get that analyst to lower her guard, whether it’s inside or outside the bedroom”—Castle hiked a thumb at him—“it’s our Golden Boy.”

The nickname prickled Gideon’s nerves, poking fun at his college days as a quarterback as well as fair looks that had always been more of a curse than a blessing.