Dazed and wearing an ICE-issued jumpsuit, Mia stood in her suite and stared at the laptop sitting on the desk. It had a black screen and a tiny white light on the side. She wanted to touch the keys, but a reedy voice inside her head insisted doing so would get her in trouble.

She’d used a computer several times throughout the course of the day, but that was for tests. Now the administrator had shown her to her “suite” and, for the first time since she’d arrived, she was alone. The suite was modern, with art on the walls that looked like twisting rivers of colorful ribbon. The living room had a black sectional couch and a glass desk with a laptop—the one she stared at while her fingers twitched.

Mia glanced over her shoulder as if El Padrino might be watching, but of course she was alone. There were no security cameras in the corners either, though she’d seen plenty of them throughout the facility. Could she find her family on that computer?

Taking a cautious step forward, she reached for the mouse and moved it in a circle.

At once, a screen came up with the ICE logo—a circle of crystals with ICE in the middle and the words International Clandestine Enterprise around the outer edge. Luke hadn’t told her the name of the organization and, only after she’d taken her first test—an oral test with Dr. R, did he tell her that ICE was a highly secret organization sanctioned by NATO. She was sworn never to repeat the name outside of the facility. It was an oath Mia could easily take. They were protecting her from El Padrino. She would do anything for anyone who could save her from that monster.

She clicked the mouse and the screen asked for a user ID. Mia bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t been given a sign on ID. Maybe she could ask Luke if they were planning to give her one, though she hadn’t seen him all day.

Can I find Mom and Dad?

Jolting, she stepped away from the computer as if it shocked her. She’d thought about finding her parents every day for fifteen years. Yes, she’d all but given up hope, but now the possibility of really searching for them made her both thrilled and terrified. How many nights had she lain awake craving her mother’s arms? To see the proud face of her father? She yearned to have a family who loved her, who cared about her achievements. She missed family meals where everyone talked about their days, their hopes, their dreams.

Where were they now? Why hadn’t they come for her? Had she been forgotten?

A knock sounded on the door. “Mia?” Luke’s voice resounded from the hallway.

Her heartbeat fluttered as she skipped across the floor and opened it. “Where have you been all day?”

“Meetings. Not my favorite.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her an uncertain look. He, too, wore a jumpsuit—but his made him look like Iron Man. “Mind if I come in?”

She stood aside. “Any news on El Padrino?”

He sauntered past her. “Just that Zambada didn’t lay waste to the hacienda. And as I expected, most everyone got out unscathed.”

“Thank goodness.”

“What was your day like?”

“All I did was answer questions and take tests. Tawney said their assessment will last two weeks. Why would she say that? I thought I was here for protection from the Morales Cartel. What am I being assessed for?”

“Uh.” He kicked the leg of her desk—a little odd for a guy who always bordered on the edge of cocky. “Everyone who comes to ICE has an assessment to see where they will best fit in.”

“You mean if they have what it takes to be a spy?”

“Not everyone here is a spy. There are techies. Hell, there are people who work in the kitchen.”

“They made me swear never to reveal the ICE identity. I’m not a prisoner, am I?”

“Absolutely not. People don’t often leave the organization. But when they do, they’re sworn to secrecy.”

“Or what?”

“Don’t know really. That’s not my area.” He gestured to the computer. “I’ve drawn up your training schedule.”

“Schedule?”

“You wanted to learn self-defense, didn’t you?”

“Right. Yes, I do.”

“Well, you’ll be on the fast and furious track—at least for the next fortnight while—” He stopped. His jaw twitched—and whenever it did, there was always something more.

“Why is it I sense there is something you’re not telling me?”

He shrugged. “We just need to plan our next steps in the Morales case.”

“Next steps? You mean find him and arrest him?”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to worry about that now. If nothing else, when you leave here you’ll be able to protect yourself. We’re going to equip you with some skills meant to save your life in any situation. What you choose to do with them is up to you. Remember that, Michelle. At ICE you always have a choice.”

At the sound of her real name, goosebumps spread across her skin. “You called me Michelle.”

“That’s because we don’t live lies here.” He pinched a lock of her hair and brushed it over her lips. “Is it okay if we call you Michelle when we’re forty-five meters under a glacier?”

Gulping, she nodded. Their gazes met while energy crackled between them. She wanted to reach out, to wrap him in an embrace. She thought he might make the first move, but Luke took in a breath and turned away as if fighting his attraction.

Is he attracted? Or is he still angry?

“Did they issue you with a watch?” he asked, moving away and smoothing his fingers over the back of the couch.

“No—no computer login either.”

“I’ll have that fixed in the morning. We’re paperless here. Your watch will contain your schedule. You’ll also be able to access it on the computer.”

“I’ll be able to get on the computer?”

“Yeah.”

“Can it be traced?”

“Not here.” He didn’t explain, he just walked to the door. “I’ll see you in the mess at 0700.”

“Okay.” Her shoulders fell. “W-what—”

“Huh?” He looked back as he opened the door.

“What do I do until then?”

“Sleep.” He brushed her nose with the crook of his finger and then he was gone.

Mia looked to the ceiling and groaned. Now that she’d seen Luke, she had more questions than answers. Worse, he acted about as distant as he had when they’d first met.

She flopped onto the couch and groaned. Darn it, she’d made him mad all right. She’d disappointed him, too. Her biggest problem? She was completely clueless about what she needed to do to win him back.

***

Luke clenched his fists as he strode away from Michelle’s suite. He hadn’t just called her by her real name because he felt like it. He needed to get Mia out of his system and replace her with someone else.

Except that was easier said than done.

She still looked as sultry and tempting as Mia. She still had those smoldering blue eyes and a mane of wild hair—silken hair he itched to dig his fingers into. Christ, he’d itched to do a whole lot more than that and, with the bed in the next room, he’d nearly caved.

How could he so easily forget the look of guilt on her face when she’d used the phone to contact Morales? When would he be able to trust her again? Really trust her?

Never.

His stomach clenched, tied in a million knots. He’d made a mistake by bringing her to ICE. Ayres Rock would have been a better option. God, how could Garth think she might be ready to face Morales after two bloody weeks? And if anything happened to her, Luke would go ballistic. Garth had no business putting her in harm’s way.

By the time he pushed inside the Ice Cave—the bar where assets hung out after long days of training—he was good and angry. He made a beeline straight to the fridge behind the bar and pulled out a stubbie. Cracking the top, he guzzled half of the beer before he took a breath.

“Looks like it’s been a rough day.”

Luke turned. Henri sat alone with a beer and a bowl of peanuts. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nah. I’d only be whinging.”

“Everybody needs to file a complaint now and again.” She took a swig of her beer. “Where’s your fledgling?”

“Needs sleep. Jet lag.” Luke grabbed a bowl of nuts and took a seat beside her. Henri had been one or the leaders of his first op where she and Mike Rose took down the terrorist Omar Fadli. Luke didn’t even know he was being auditioned for ICE until after, but it was a wild ride being thrown into the middle of a shit storm with those two.

“By the bags under your eyes, I’d say Mia isn’t the only one who needs sleep.”

Luke raised his bottle. “After this—or three.” He glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were alone. “So, where’s Rose?”

“Mike’s on assignment somewhere between Russia and Pakistan.”

“That a pretty broad area.”

“Tell me about it.” She popped a handful of peanuts in her mouth. “That’s why I’m on my third.”

“Well, we can drown in each other’s misery.”

She chuckled. “That pretty damsel have you wrapped around her finger?”

He could only shake his head. “Does it show?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. I need to stop caring so much.”

“I know what that feels like. But you can’t help it. That’s why you’re on the team.”

“Right.” Slumping, he stared at his beer, feeling like a lout while silently cursing Garth to hell.

Henri moved around the bar and pulled two more stubbies out of the fridge and set one in front of him. “Tell you what; you’re not going to solve shit if you don’t get it off your chest. You’d better tell me what’s going on or else we’ll be sitting here all night.”

“I’m not making you stay.”

“Oh yeah? When did a soldier leave a teammate bleeding on the battlefield?”

Luke snorted. But when he started on his second beer, the whole sordid story came out. Mia, aka Michelle living in human bondage. The tracking device in Las Cruces. Morales out there somewhere waiting to strike while his stockpile of Rhapsody continues to flood into the black market. Garth’s harebrained idea about using Michelle to draw Morales into the line of fire.

Luke dragged his fingers through his hair. “We shouldn’t use her like that. She’s here for our protection. She’s scared and confused and needs a year at a spa. You know? Detox for people who’ve been brainwashed.”

Throughout his soliloquy, Henri did nothing but supply beers. When Luke finally stopped, there were six bottles in front of him and his teeth were floating.

“Know what I think?” she asked.

“What?”

“You got it bad for that girl.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Henri tossed the empties into the bin. “I’ll tell you two things. First of all, Garth won’t assign a task to anyone who can’t handle it. And secondly, you’d better do your damnedest to ensure she learns everything that pretty head can absorb in the next two weeks ’cause that’s the only way she’s going to survive.”

He swayed on the stool while he watched her walk away. “Henri,” he called before she reached the door.

She turned. “Yeah?”

“Why do you think Mia…ah…Michelle took the packet with her?”

“At the time, it was Mia and I think you answered that yourself somewhere in your story. She was scared shitless. People don’t always make the smartest decisions when they’re scared. Think about it. She’s twenty-one, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s been a captive over seventy percent of her life. On top of it, she’s been tortured and brainwashed by the most heinous, most controlling drug dealer known to man.”

Luke nodded—it sounded pretty bad coming out of Henri’s mouth.

“I’m with you when you said she needs to have her brain unscrambled. Hell, I was locked up for two years for a crime I didn’t commit, and that messed with my head big time. I lost confidence. I wanted to shut myself away from the world and hide in my grandfather’s mine.” Henri reached for the door handle. “Just think how scared she must be—and confused. Man, after you described the crown of pain, I’ll bet it’s an internal battle just for that chick to distinguish wrong from right.”

“So, you think she’s too messed up to go back to Mexico?”

Henri nodded. “I would be.”

“Thank God for that.” He took one last swig and headed for his bunk.