“I’m confident that I'll be able to keep Jude Camden and Jude McConnell straight in my head.”
Ordinarily, civilians were obliging and deferential to FBI agents. He was used to them doing what he asked. He wasn't used to pushback on everything he said. “I still think it’s best if you know me as Jude McConnell only. There’s no reason pertaining to this case for you to know me as Jude Camden.”
“I disagree.”
She couldn't see his scowl because his back was to her as he moved fettucine into the bowls she'd set out. Was she taking the opposite side purely to frustrate him?
“I’m never going to be able to pretend a sense of ease with you,” she continued, “if I have no idea who you are. I don’t even feel easy about having dinner with you in my home without knowing who you are. Is ice water fine?”
“Yes.”
“I'm guessing there's more to you than just an FBI badge. Unless you're actually a robotic soldier like Arnold inThe Terminator.”
In truth, there wasn't much more to him than his badge. He spent time with his dog, his family, and his friends. But his job had become the largest and most central thing in his life.
“Areyou a Terminator?” she asked when he didn't reply.
He met her gaze. “I feel like this is a good time to admit that yes, I'm a T-800 sent here from the future.”
Her face revealed grudging respect. “You're familiar with that movie.”
“Yeah. I'm an old movie buff.”
“Me too. We officially have one thing in common. What else can you tell me about yourself?”
“Nothing that pertains to the case.”
She stood beside him and poured pesto over the pasta. He looked down. The sliver of space separating his arm from her feminine one was enough to heat the skin on that side. He stepped away.
She grated parmesan onto the pasta. “It didn’t take you long to switch back to combative.”
“I’m just doing what’s best for the case. When in doubt, I will always do what’s best for the case.”
She salted and peppered the food, then looked across her shoulder at him. “Very well. You've left me no choice but to Google you.”
“Please don’t do that.”
Her eyes widened. “Is there something juicy to find if I Google you?”
“No.”
“Yes!” she crowed. “I can tell there is.” She swept into the living room, grabbed her laptop off an armchair, and opened it on her kitchen island.
His spirits sank.He'd much prefer for her to have no idea who he was. For starters, that would enable her to view him as a person and not as a scandal. Also, he'd meant what he'd said earlier. Knowing the real him would force her to juggle his story and Jude McConnell's story in her head. But short of jerking the computer away from her, there wasn't anything he could do to stop her.
She rolled her bottom lip in as she read information on the screen. “Oh.” Then, “Ohhhh.”
He studied the angles of her lowered profile, the way her hair curved as it hung forward near the keyboard.
Finally lifting her head, she peered at him with interest. “You're one ofthoseCamdens.”
He gave her an expression he hoped read as patient.
“Felix Camden is your father?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“My mom loves celebrity gossip. She's followed the exploits of your family for decades.”
