“What did he do?” Charlotte Taggart’s voice went deadly quiet though Penelope couldn’t possibly misunderstand her. Charlotte had carefully enunciated each word.

Penelope turned. They had just left the meeting Damon had called to fill the team in on the new setbacks. She’d been forced to spend hours and hours with him, first clearing up everything with SIS and then having her firearm issued along with her cover identification. Damon simply stood back, watching her like she would disappear on him. She’d offered to take the Tube back. That hadn’t gone well.

The long car ride back had been utterly silent without even the sound of the radio to break up the gloom that seemed to sit between them.

She was right. He cared for her. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have fought so hard to keep her safe.

But she had no idea how to break through his reserve.

“What are you talking about?” She hoped Charlotte didn’t know what had happened. She’d been out of the room when Damon had thrown his hissy fit. She’d hoped the Tennessee fellow had kept a gentlemanly silence about her humiliation. “Mr. Champion? I thought Damon explained that quite nicely.”

He’d set up the meeting from his mobile and the entire team was sitting in the conference room joking and laughing when they walked in. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ian Taggart’s crew was relaxed as though they knew they could handle it, as though they really had each other’s backs and that made everything all right.

She and Damon didn’t even talk about it.

Now she was banished to the dungeon where Charlotte was going to show her things Damon should be sharing with her.

Charlotte’s red and blonde hair shook as she paced down one of the dungeon’s brick inlayed paths toward the bar area. “No. I know what Baz did. I’m talking about Damon. What did he do to you? Because when we left you were glowing like a woman who’d just figured out sex is pretty awesome and now you’re pale and pinched up again.”

“Again?”

Charlotte reached the bar, slipping behind it. “Sorry. It’s just you’re all tight and tense. And Damon’s shut down.” Her eyes narrowed as she pulled out what looked like a bottle of tequila. “Unless you were the one who did it.”

Suddenly, she didn’t really want to be the one “who did it.” She got the idea that Charlotte wouldn’t like someone who did something bad to her friends. “It wasn’t me.”

“It was Damon. He’s an asswipe just like all men.” Chelsea Dennis walked into the bar, her computer in hand. “Sorry, I kind of got the gist of it. Satan had a meeting with Ten this afternoon and I totally listened in on it. If it makes you feel any better, Ten decided Damon’s an asshole. Only he said it in a really slow Southern accent.”

Embarrassment flooded her system. “No, it really doesn’t make me feel better. Were you able to figure out where the bug was transmitting to?”

“Oh, that was easy peasy. It was being sent to a hotel room on Gloucester Road. When the MI6 boys went there, Baz had left it running with a note that Damon better show up when he calls. Well, the sex tape part was also running. He saved the files from the last couple of days. Mostly it was nothing more than you on the Tube and eating sandwiches and cleaning up your house. And the session this morning was just audio and several hours of staring at Damon’s really sparse kitchen.”

She’d set her bag on his bar before going to bed. Apparently they’d been loud. “Who else has seen it all?”

“Just me and Adam. But he was listening in with me on Satan and Ten.”

“Chelsea!”

Chelsea glanced her sister’s way. “Adam and I modified our laptops with hypersensitive microphones. I wanted to see if it worked over Skype. It does. Adam says you should give Damon a second chance because he was trying to protect you, but I say we set him up as an escort on the Internet. I can have that website built out in an hour. He’ll start getting phone calls shortly after.”

Charlotte groaned, pulling out shot glasses. “Use your powers for good, please. Are you telling me he tried to get her thrown off the op? After what happened last night?”

“It was this morning.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. It wasn’t like she could call up her sister and explain that the man she was in love with had dumped her and hurt her because it was better than getting her brutally murdered by a turncoat agent. Oh, and I don’t actually work for a staid publishing company. I’m SIS. How are the kids? That would go over well.

And I might have to betray him on a level he’ll never forgive me for.

She didn’t even want to think about that.

“He made love to you this morning and then tried to get you fired?” Charlotte poured out a nice shot of amber liquid. Three glasses all in a row. “And after you apparently made a sex tape with him?”

“I eradicated it,” Chelsea said, taking a seat at the bar.

The man had a complete bar in his house. His building. He owned a whole building. Was she fooling herself? She shook her head. “I don’t really drink much.”

“That’s part of your problem.” Charlotte handed her a shaker of salt.

“And I’m the bad influence?” Chelsea licked her thumb and then salted it, picking up a lime wedge with the opposite hand. “He didn’t just try to get her fired. He told her he didn’t like sleeping with her and he’d done it all for the mission. It was cold.”

Come to think of it, maybe she should drink more. The idea of Ian and Tennessee feeling sorry for her made her want to crawl into her shell and never come back out again.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Bastard, son of a bitch, cocksucker.”

Chelsea completed her shot, chuckling a little. “I don’t get why cocksucker is a bad thing. You talk about it all the time.”

“Stay on topic. And oral is very nice. I’ll remove that one from my repertoire. I can’t believe he did that. Well, I can. Damon can be a shut-down asshole, but he was totally into you.” She frowned. “Damn it. Adam’s right. He’s trying to protect you. What is wrong with men? Why can’t they just say what they’re feeling? What would you have done if he’d held your hand and begged you to walk away because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you?”

Somehow, she couldn’t see him doing it. “I would have done anything he asked me to. Well, until I could find a way around it. I don’t want to leave him alone. He’ll get in trouble. He’s not thinking straight when it comes to Baz.”

And his heart might explode.

Charlotte held up her glass. She didn’t bother with the niceties, merely tipped it back and then poured another one. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Her eyes settled on Penny. “I know Damon pretty well. He’s always been very careful with women.”

“He wasn’t careful with her according to Ten. He made her cry.” Chelsea turned in her chair, looking out over the dungeon. The sun had waned and the entire place was encased in twilight. Chelsea looked older than her twenty-seven years. Harder. “He’s just like the rest of them, sis.”

Charlotte groaned a little, a sure sign that this was a well-worn argument. “Yes, all men are evil. They’ll screw a woman in the end.”

Chelsea sucked down another tequila shot. “Do you know what I would give to look at a vagina and just want to hit that? I wish girl parts did it for me. Unfortunately, I like dicks. Do you know the problems with dicks? They’re attached to bigger dicks.”

“She’s talking about men,” Charlotte explained.

“Yes, I believe I understand. She’s not happy with her sexual orientation.”

“She’s not happy with anything, but that’s because she’s fighting the inevitable,” Charlotte said. “And so is Damon, if you decide to go after him. I’ve been around that man for a while, and I’ve never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Penny bit her bottom lip and decided. She could sit around and try to think this through or she could lean on someone else for a change. “I don’t know how to fight for him. I don’t even know if I should. When he first said what he said, I was devastated.”

“That’s because he was an asshole,” Chelsea agreed.

She needed to ignore Chelsea if she was going to get anything done. “I don’t know how to reach him. Even if it’s true, I don’t think me talking to him about it is going to change things.”

Charlotte waved a hand, obviously dismissing that line of thought. “You can’t talk to him. Men are not logical enough. Trust me. I went through hell to get Ian back. I tried to give him a very simple explanation about why I betrayed him and let him believe I was dead for five years, but does he listen to me? No.”

Penny had read Damon’s very thorough file on the Taggarts. If they could be together and in love, then anyone could. “Then how did you get him back?”

“Sex, of course. It’s really the only language men understand.”

That was what she was afraid of. “I’m not very good at sex. I don’t have much experience.”

Charlotte frowned her way. “You’re going to be one of those women, aren’t you?”

“Here comes the speech,” Chelsea said under her breath.

“One of those women?” Penny wasn’t sure what that meant.

Charlotte crossed her arms under her breasts, leaning forward. “The kind who spends all their time worrying about what they’re not. ‘I’m not sexy. I’m not pretty. I’m not worthy.’ When you do talk about what you are, it’s negative things like ‘I’m fat’ or ‘I have cellulite.’”

She felt herself flush. Yes, she might be guilty of some of that, but it wasn’t the whole story. “That’s not true. I think I’m smart and nice.”

Charlotte shook her head as though Penny had just proven her point. “Only because people tell you that. Do you really believe it? Deep down inside? Or do you keep trying to prove it over and over again? Do you let people take advantage of you because you think the only thing you have going for you is that you’re nice?”

It wasn’t true. Except it sort of was. She spent a lot of time trying to prove how nice she was. And she spent absolutely no time being nice to herself. That needed to change. She needed to take a real inventory of herself. “I like my eyes. I think they’re pretty.”

“Yes, they are.” When Charlotte Taggart smiled, she could light up a room.

“All the guys think you’ve got a nice ass.” Chelsea leaned on the bar and gave her a reserved smile. “I listen in on everyone. It’s for research.”

“They like my bum?” She’d always thought it was way too big.

Chelsea giggled a little, her face softening. She was quite pretty when she relaxed. “Yes, I believe Jesse said, in his always intensely literate way, ‘Dayum, that’s a juicy ass.’ But y’all say arse. Why do you do that? It’s not very sexy.”

Maybe the word wasn’t sexy, but apparently her arse was.

“You aren’t going to win your man by worrying about cellulite,” Charlotte explained. She turned a pointed look to her sister. “Or by treating him like he has the plague.”

“He’s not mine,” Chelsea said quickly.

“Only because you act like a jerk.” Charlotte pushed one of the shot glasses Penny’s way. “She’s got a huge thing for Simon and he totally wants her too. They’ve circled each other for months and months and they’re both irritable because no one’s getting laid. Do you want that? Wait, was Damon good in bed? I mean he could be horrible and he could make you feel like shit and then it’s a good thing that he dumped you.”

“Oh, no, he’s very good. And he made me feel good.” Her confidence was rising with every word Charlotte said. “We were good together.”

They had been. He wasn’t closed down with her in bed. When he’d smiled, there had been actual emotion in him. She was sure of it. He was always so controlled, except for today. He’d lost it and it hadn’t been all because of Baz. His anger was cold, controlled, but his fear came out in screaming fits and every single one of them had been directed her way.

She knocked back the drink. She didn’t drink much because it didn’t seem ladylike and she’d wanted to be seen as a nice girl when she was growing up. She’d gotten used to being in control all the time. She’d had to be when her parents were alive.

It burned down her throat, and she practically coughed it up. Both Dennis sisters laughed and Chelsea patted her back. “It’s an acquired taste.”

But their friendship wasn’t. It was easy and simple and she hadn’t fit in with another group of women in a very long time. She was always worried about doing or saying the wrong thing, but the Dennis sisters were showing her there wasn’t a wrong thing to say.

“I will take another.” It was her time now. It was finally her time to figure out who she wanted to be, and she was very certain that one of the things she wanted to be was happy, and that couldn’t happen without Damon Knight.

“Can you be brave, Penny?” Charlotte asked, sliding her another shot. “I know it sounds silly, but you’re going to have to play a part you’re not used to playing. If you want to break through Damon’s walls, you’re going to have to seduce him and manipulate him and bring him to his knees. You’re going to have to change the attitude. In the end, it can’t be a part you’re playing. It has to be you. You have to fight and fight dirty.”

If Damon had his way, she would be safe and he would upend both US and British intelligence and likely get himself killed in the process. He’d always been brave. He’d been through hell and he still was capable of caring about her.

Was she willing to let that go because she didn’t like her body? Damon liked her body. If he was her lover, wasn’t his opinion of whether she was sexy the only one that really mattered?

“Yes. I can be brave.” She’d been nervous about being naked, but it seemed very silly now. She’d been willing to put her life in Damon’s hands. Why would showing a bit of skin really bother her?

Chelsea put her head in her hand. “Oh, no. Do you know what she’s about to do to you?”

But it was said with a smile and what seemed to be genuine affection for her sister.

Charlotte squealed a little and clapped her hands. “Makeover!”

Maybe she could use one. And she had a bit of money saved so it would be good to have some new clothes. “All right.”

“And we’ll need some help from my hubby to set the scene, but we can’t let him know we’re using him so Penny, I’m going to need some serious tears.”

She’d held them back all day. It was actually quite easy to let them go. Her tears in the bathroom hadn’t even begun to make a dent in her tension, and she got the feeling that she wouldn’t be sleeping beside Damon tonight, so there would be no one to comfort her in the night.

Or would there? Maybe she needed to see how he liked being manipulated. As far as she knew, he hadn’t moved her things out of his room and she had a keycard.

Charlotte patted her back. “Excellent. You look very dejected. Now, sit over there and look vulnerable. Chelsea, I need you to irritate my husband with a rant about how horrible men are.”

Chelsea brightened. “I can totally do that.”

Charlotte picked up her phone. Her whole demeanor changed and she went from smiling to screaming harpy in a second. “Ian, your friend is a rat bastard. Do you know what he did? Do you know? Were you in on it?”

Penny could practically hear Ian Taggart quaking in his overly large boots.

Chelsea reached over and covered Penny’s hand with hers. “It’ll be okay. One way or another. You’ll be fine. Damon’s being silly. We’re not going to let you die.”

Funny, she hadn’t even thought about the fact that someone wanted to kill her. Love really might cost her everything, but she was willing to take the risk.

 

* * * *

 

“Dude, did you seriously dump her in front of everyone?” Jesse Murdoch frowned his way.

Damon still had a headache from the debacle of the morning. It was after supper now, a supper he’d avoided because he hadn’t wanted to be in the same room, looking at her sad, gorgeous blue eyes and fighting the need to pull her into his lap. He didn’t want to watch Ian feed Charlotte when his chance to do the same with Penelope was gone.

The last thing he needed was Ian Taggart’s crew following him about and gossiping. He should have stayed up in his rooms, but then he had to deal with Penelope’s things, her clothes hanging next to his, her makeup and frilly feminine things crowding his bathroom.

He looked over at the puppy of the group. The one who had hit on Penelope the first night.

“It’s really none of your business.” He watched the kettle as though that would make the water boil faster. Given his current stage of rage, it might.

Tag showed up in the kitchen, leaning his big body against the door. “That, PTSD, is what we call a dick move in the States.”

Yes, he should have gone up to his apartments and locked everyone out. He just wasn’t sure he could look at that bed again and remember just how much he’d lost. He wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep in it. He needed to move her into one of the guest rooms. Fuck. He needed to figure out how to be able to look into those sky-blue eyes of hers without wanting to apologize and beg her to take him back.

Because that would be dangerous.

“I don’t need your input either, Tag.” He grabbed the box of tea and set the bag in his cup. He would rather start in on the Scotch, but he didn’t trust himself not to get drunk and crawl into her bed again.

Of course, that might solve many problems. Penelope had gotten her sidearm, a Glock 17 that he’d made her prove she could use. If he climbed into her bed, she would likely shoot him. Case closed. Everyone would be happier.

“Too bad because you’re definitely going to get my input.” Taggart strode into the room. “PTSD, go and finish packing. You have to fly to the Netherlands tomorrow and learn how to make beds and shit. Tell Jake your car is leaving at six.”

Jesse and Jake were joining the Royale when it docked in Amsterdam. Chelsea and Simon would travel with the two couples to Dover and board with the new crew there. Cruise ships picked up new members all the time and in multiple ports. Yet another avenue they had to deal with.

Jesse frowned. “I don’t know about this, boss. Why do I have to be the guy who cleans up cabins while Chelsea works security?”

Taggart’s eyes rolled. “Because she’s the computer guru. You got some skills in there you haven’t told me about? Trust me, buddy, if the job was walking the decks and knocking heads together, you would be my guy. I need Chelsea to get control of all those security cameras. I need you to search the cabins of the people I tell you to.”

Jesse sighed. “Fine. I just want to know when I’m going to get to do something besides clean up and follow after Simon. I’m not complaining.”

“Yes, you are.”

Jesse didn’t have a comeback for that. He shrugged and moved to the door. “Fine. I’ll go and watch videos about how to make animals out of towels. That’s part of my damn training, Tag. I have to make towel animals.”

Tag stopped him at the door. “Jesse, one of these days one of my idiot operatives will inevitably get himself killed because he was too busy texting his wife to deal with the bad guys. I promise you his slot.”

Jesse’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Tag slapped his shoulder. “Good things come to those who wait and don’t get led around by their dicks. Go.”

Jesse trotted off.

It was always interesting to watch Tag deal with his men. Damon never knew what to say. He could manipulate a man a thousand different ways, but Tag had real relationships with them. Crass and argumentative relationships, but friendships all the same.

“Here’s hoping he doesn’t have an incident while he’s gone. I wish I could have gotten him a place with Jake or Simon,” Tag admitted.

If there was a problem with the team, Damon wanted to know. “Why does he need a partner?”

“More like a guardian angel.” Tag sighed. “He really does have PTSD. I joke about it, but we’ve had a couple of close calls. Put Jesse in the right place with the right pressures and he can go a little wild. Things got bloody the last time it happened. Simon took care of it, but it’s why I have him cleaning rooms. I don’t think he’s going to knife the vacuum cleaner. And hey, maybe the towel animals will be like therapy.”

“If we need to pull him out…” Damon began.

Tag held up a hand. “He’ll be fine. Just watch him if things get violent. He forgets where he is. The good news is, I’m keeping him with me in Dallas. You would get to hire your own team if you came on with me. That New York job’s looking better and better, isn’t it?”

“I’m not leaving fieldwork.” Fuck, after today it was really all he had.

“You’re a stubborn bastard. And I kind of hate your ass right now because I’m supposed to talk to you.” Taggart turned the slightest shade of green.

Damon frowned. They had spent the entire bloody afternoon in the conference room going over every minute detail of the operation since Jesse and Jake were leaving in the morning. It was his last chance to speak openly with them. It had been brutal torture because Penelope had been sitting there the entire time, trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Why? I thought I was clear. Is Chelsea having problems with the files?”

Chelsea and Adam were investigating the names of the passengers on the Royale and any possible connections to either The Collective or Nature’s Core. They were supposed to build dossiers on roughly twenty potential suspects. Jake Dean was taking those twenty people and compiling their itineraries for the trip, including all their shore excursions where they might possibly meet up with the man they were attempting to smuggle back into England.

And now Charlotte was down in the dungeon with Penelope going over all the equipment and familiarizing her with protocols.

When they got on the ship, he would be alone with Penelope for days and days, in a tiny cabin where there was one bed and not a bit of privacy.

Tag walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. “No. That’s going fine. Trust me, Raging Bitch knows how to break apart someone’s life in a few keystrokes. I’m talking about Penelope. You do understand what’s happening down in the dungeon, right?”

Charlotte was showing Penelope a few hints and tricks. She was going to teach her how to present herself. God, his cock tightened at the thought. “Does Charlotte not appreciate her duties?”

He couldn’t imagine Charlotte not taking a liking to Penelope. Charlotte was a kind woman, but if for some reason she didn’t like Penelope, he would have to find someone else. He wouldn’t leave her with someone who didn’t care about her.

This was exactly why he should find a way to get rid of Penelope. He couldn’t think straight around her and he needed to fucking think straight.

“Dude, right now those women are downstairs discussing the best way to castrate you. I had to convince her I wasn’t the one who told you to dump Penny. My wife is pissed.” Tag shivered a little. “When I left her, Charlie was plotting, man. Things go bad when Charlie plots. And she told me I should come up here and talk to you.”

Damon shook his head. “About what?”

After a long swig of beer, Tag coughed a little. “Feelings and shit.”

What the hell? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Dude, women do that shit all the time and when you marry one, they expect you to do it too. But we’re not going to. We’re going to say we did and then we’re going to drink some beer and see what’s on TV. Because we don’t talk about shit. We shoot people. That’s how we show our feelings. Well, I’m going to drink beer and you’re going to sip your tea.”

Yes, he was definitely going for the Scotch. He reached to the back of the cupboard. After this, he was going to be a loner. No partners. No lovers. No friends. He didn’t understand any of it. Not really.

And he didn’t want to talk. “I feel angry. That’s how I feel.”

He took a long swig. Why had he said that?

Tag shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Choke it down, man. Push it back. You’re good. You don’t have to do this.”

But maybe Charlotte was right. Another drink of Scotch and it burned nicely in his belly. “I have feelings for the girl.”

He’d never seen Tag go pale. “Should I call Adam and Alex? They will get on a speakerphone and you three can cry to each other and maybe have a sing-along or something.”

He gave Tag his middle finger. “Fuck you. I did what was right. It was right for her. It was right for me.” The last part was a lie, but one he needed. Maybe if he said it enough, he could make it true.

“It was a dick move.”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell her the truth?”

“You could have started with that. It might have been better than telling her she’s fat and shit.”

Damon felt his whole body stiffen. “I didn’t say that.”

Tag waved that explanation off. “It doesn’t matter. When you sleep with a chick and then dump her the next day, she’s coming to one conclusion. She’s fat. They are really concerned with weight. I don’t get it. She’s hot. Once Charlie’s done with her, she’ll have every Dom here panting after her. Don’t worry about it.”

“She’s quite lovely. I certainly didn’t dump her because I don’t want her, but I can’t bloody well tell her that. And you’re a good one to talk to me about this. Tell her the truth? Did you tell Charlotte the truth when she came back for you? You’re a hypocrite.”

Tag pointed an accusatory finger his way. “No. You do not get to play that card with me. You call me after Penny’s lied to you and betrayed you, blown up your career and pretended to be dead for five years. Then you can whine to me about your love life. You should have told her why you don’t want her in the field with you. Because she’s fuck-all good in bed and you don’t want to lose the best pussy you’ve ever had.”

Tag had weird ways of communicating, but Damon got the point. “I don’t love her.”

A vomiting sound came out of Tag’s mouth. “I didn’t say that.”

But that’s what he was talking about in his brutish way. “I feel some responsibility for her. And Baz’s hatred for me has already cost one young lady her life. I can’t do it again.”

He wasn’t going to admit more than that to anyone.

“Why does he hate you?” Tag leaned against the counter, his blue eyes becoming very serious.

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s because I outshone him.” Baz had always been competitive, and he’d resented the fact that Damon was the senior agent.

“Did you and Baz ever share women?”

Where was that coming from? “That’s a bit private, mate.”

“Nothing’s private right now. He’s brought you into this and it’s personal. Knowing why he’s coming after you will help us catch him. He’s not thinking with his head either. He’s running on emotion. I watched the video Chelsea captured from the CCTVs before she dumped it. The one at the station. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was taunting you.”

Taunting more than just him. “He had some nasty things to say about both of us. It was why I sent her away.”

He hadn’t just been trying to protect her feelings. He was trying to save her life. If he really was honest with himself, he hadn’t wanted her to see how damaged he was. Hadn’t wanted her to see him struggle. He wanted her to see him as a heroic, strong operative, not the aging, wasted piece of shit he’d become.

“I find it interesting that he left you alive, too. He hates you, but he couldn’t pull the double tap on you. He’s been trained well enough to know to take out both fucking lungs or to go for a head shot.”

He hated how cold he got when he thought about that day. He was supposed to be over that. He was alive. He wasn’t supposed to be stuck in that horrible moment when he’d realized nothing he’d done had really made a difference. He’d been stuck there all this time. Except for the moments he’d spent with her. He hadn’t been thinking about how useless he was then. He’d been thinking about how hot he could make her, how she came apart in his arms. He’d been thinking about how right it had felt. “I believe he intends to do the job properly this time around.”

“Why does it have to be you? He should want to talk to Nigel.”

“He mentioned setting something up with Nigel. I believe he wanted me to be the go between.” The whole conversation made him uncomfortable. He wanted to forget about Baz for a while but the one thing that might have done it wasn’t available to him now. Fucking Penelope would take him away from everything, but he couldn’t do that anymore.

Tag shook his head shortly. “I think that was an excuse. I think you’re the one he wanted to see. I would bet he’s been tracking you the whole time. Now he’s murdered an operative and will only deal with you. I think he changed his plans in the middle of that meeting because he watched you with her.”

“He changed his mind because he wants Penelope.” A sick idea played at the back of his brain, a thing that had always been there, but he’d refused to acknowledge.

“It isn’t Penny he wants, is it? Tell me something. Was the girl he murdered before really just caught in the crossfire? According to the reports, she was found in the kitchens on the conference floor. He came in through the elevators. He knew where your office was. So why didn’t he go there first? Why didn’t he just take you out? She wouldn’t have been able to stop him. As far away as she was, she likely wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

Sweet, subby Jane. He hadn’t loved her, but he’d liked her. “She was my frequent lover. I topped her on a regular basis.”

“Was Basil Champion in love with you?” Tag sounded softer, more sympathetic than Damon had ever heard him.

He stood there for a moment, wishing Tag wasn’t so damn good at reading people.

“Yes.” Damn it.

“Were you lovers?” He held his hands up when Damon shot him a nasty look. “I’m not judging. I’m asking. I couldn’t care less who you fuck, though in this case it might be important.”

It was important, though Damon had tried to avoid it for years. “No, we weren’t lovers. I never even acknowledged that I knew he was attracted to me. And yes, we shared some women. I suppose in the back of my mind, I thought he should really see me as I am. I was never going to return his admiration. I like women.”

Women like Jane. God, he was crazy about women like Penelope. No. That was wrong and he needed to stop pretending to himself. There were no other women like Penelope. He was simply crazy about Penelope, and it would get her killed.

Because he’d never dealt with it. Never wanted to. Preferred to avoid the confrontation.

“That explains things. I need to know this shit, Knight. It changes how I deal with the op.”

“How so?”

Tag put his beer down and crossed his arms over his chest, a sign of his stubborn will. “It means my main job will be to protect Penny. She’s innocent in all of this. Ten wants me to bring Baz in, but I won’t do it at the cost of her life. I got out of the Agency so I wouldn’t have to make decisions like that ever again.”

Things were happening far too quickly. Taggart was pushing him. He needed time to think so he tried to direct the conversation back to something that would get Tag off his back. “I thought Charlotte got you kicked out.”

“Hell, no.” Tag’s gaze was steady. “But she taught me I wasn’t really that man. I was becoming something before I met Charlie, something dark, something like Ten. Something like you.”

“Like me?”

“You’ll make the hard decisions, Knight. You’ll send your men in to die if you think it serves the bigger purpose. Here’s the honest truth. I don’t want you to take me up on the New York job. Charlie’s pushing me to give it to you. I don’t think you can handle it. We’re a team and we don’t leave our men behind no matter fucking what. It’s why I’ll watch after Penny. You have your job to do. You have to take him down. I’ll consider Penny part of my crew. I talked to Adam and he can switch up the paperwork. Let her go in with Simon. They’ll pose as the couple and you’ll do his job on the ship. You can concentrate on what you do best. You can still meet with Baz and she’ll go with you, but we’ll protect her.”

His whole body went hot with rage at the thought. “You want her fucking Weston? You think he’s so much better than me? You think he doesn’t fuck up?”

“I thought you wanted her out of this.”

He wanted so many things but he wasn’t going to get them. “I want her to never get on the boat. I want her to forget she ever knew me, but it won’t matter to Baz, will it?”

“Nope. It would be worse if you tried to leave her behind. Then he would know how much you care about her. Even if she doesn’t. Come on. Let me take over when it comes to her.”

It was probably the right move. He couldn’t tear her apart if she was with Weston. He wouldn’t have to make the hard decisions Tag had talked about. He could shove her to them, give her over, and just worry about himself.

He could become everything Tag accused him of being.

But just for a while, he’d been something more.

“No. Watch out for her, but she stays with me. If you try to go above my head and get Nigel to move her, I’ll remove you from the operation altogether. Are we understood?”

A smirk curled Ian’s lips up. “Good to know. Maybe I was wrong about you not being right for the New York job. You know you don’t always have to accept the long, slow slide into crap, Knight. Sometimes it’s all about finding the person who won’t let you go dark. When you find that person, you can’t let them go.” He shivered a little. “God, that was gross. Can we be done with this now and you tell Charlie that I’m a perfect angel and you’re the devil who broke her friend’s heart?”

“Sure.”

“Charlie’s the one who set her tits free, though. By the way, they look good. Totally real. It’s the only way to go. See, I feel so much better talking about your girlfriend’s tits than the emotional crap.”

He ignored the idea that Penelope was his girlfriend and concentrated on the fact that she was apparently being allowed to run wild. “What the hell is your wife doing?”

A grimace took over Tag’s face and he ground the word out. “Makeover.”

Damon didn’t understand. Penelope was lovely the way she was. Yes, she was understated, but he liked her that way. Perhaps a better grade of clothing was called for but nothing more than that. “She doesn’t need to be made over.”

A long sigh left Tag’s mouth. “Apparently when a chick gets her ass dumped, all the other chicks swarm in and there’s tears and tequila and makeup and really low-cut shirts. That’s why you should avoid her tonight. Although her tits looked good.”

He was losing his bloody mind. “You are going to have to explain that to me.”

Tag cupped his own chest in a deeply juvenile gesture. “Tits. Breasts. Women have them. They’re fun to play with.”

“Why would you know what Penelope’s breasts look like?” Damon asked through gritted teeth.

“Cause she’s naked downstairs. Charlie’s makeovers can get out of control. Did I mention the tequila?”

He forgot about the glass and just took a swig from the bottle. It was going to be a long damn night.