Memories of Monty’s flushed and furious face, of his uncontrollable temper, hadher shivering.
Jethro was different. He’d just proven it to her.
He cleared his throat. “I worked for MI6 before becoming a professor and learned to fight there. The men after me tonight were mere puppets, if you will, geared to tick me off. Or expose me to the local authorities perhaps.”
Who, what? “MI6? Like the MI6 with James Bond and Q and everyone? Seriously?” Her brain misfired as she tried to grasp thiscrazy reality.
He sighed. “Yes to MI6, and I don’t want to go into the rest ofthat sentence.”
Holy crap. All right. She tried to make sense of his remaining words. “These terrifying men were just puppets? For whom?”
He finished his drink and put down the glass again. “I assisted a local HDD unit with a couple of cases, just using my knowledge of philosophy, and that might’ve made me a target.”
What? So much for the hallowed halls of academia. “Didn’t 007 work for MI6?” Of course she’d heard of the organization, but she didn’t really knowmuch about it.
One of his eyebrows rose. “Er, well, yes. While Bond has given us some notoriety, he wouldn’t make it as an actual agent. We try to follow the law.”
Wow. A real former MI6 operative. She looked at him with new eyes and he seemed like the same guy. Calm and intelligent—and sexy. Had he killed people? Been injured? “Why are you in theUS?” she asked.
“I needed a change and wanted to teach at DC University. I’m not undercover—I’ve left the service.” His smile was patient. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to tell you that I formerly was an agent. That’s how you really know.” He ran both broad hands down his black slacks. With his green button-down shirt, he looked tough but approachable. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this knowledge under your hat, so to speak. I left that life behind and don’t wantto revisit it.”
“Why?” She couldn’t help but ask the question. “Whydid you leave?”
He looked over her shoulder at the wall behind her for a moment and then refocused on her face, his gaze inscrutable. “It was time. There was an op, and it was a lot, and I was done when I closed the case file. My expiration date had passed as far as I was concerned.” He rubbed a hand over his five o’clock shadow, which was darker than his blond hair. “I needed something new and left my undercover post teaching in the UK for a real job teaching here. Maybe trying to figure out if my soul could be redeemed.”
She sipped her drink, letting the alcohol cool her throat and relax her muscles. This was all teetering on being absolutely insane. “Have you decided? About your soul?” How tortured was he?
“Regrettably, no.” His cheek creased, flashing that one dimple. “I haven’t found the pathto redemption.”
“Perhaps helping the local HDD team is your path,” she said softly. His eyes had warmed when he’d talked about that unit.
He shook his head. “I think not. However, right now I seem to be stuck in the middle of a bit of a mess, which touched you tonight. I apologize for that sad fact. Also, this means you and I can’t spend time together. But I wanted to make sure you were all right, and I wanted to say that I enjoyed our friendship, or whatever itwas becoming.”
Becoming? The guy didn’t even know her true eye color. The urge to confide in him, to make him a part of her life, was shockingly strong. Must be the adrenaline of the earlier fight and the alcohol now. Everything inside her wanted to soothe him, but that wasn’t her job. Never would be. “I understand.” She didn’t need more danger inTrudy’s life.
“Good. You’re safer away from me,” he said.
Maybe. The guy could seriously fight, and if they had more time, she’d ask him to teach her. But she was the dove…and he the hawk. “You said that your, um, talents were revealed to the authorities. Did you have to make a police statement?” If so, she’d be asked to make a witness statement, and she couldn’t do that. She could pack after he left and be on the road at dawn in true dove style. Trudy would be so disappointed to leave the day care, and it’d be terrible to abandon her students, but Gemma didn’thave a choice.
“I did make a police report but didn’t mention you. I told the authorities that I’d eaten alone and didn’t recognize the blonde in the parking lot.” He shrugged. “The attackers were all a little fuzzy and probably aren’t sure of anything, so you won’t be bothered.”
She barely hid her sigh of relief. Okay. Even if the attackers told the police there had been a blond woman in the parking lot, there were a million blondes in DC. She hadn’t noticed any security cameras at the restaurant, and she’d driven Jethro’s vehicle to the school, not her own. She was safe and could remain in town andkeep teaching.
He leaned forward, his powerful forearms on his thighs. “Are you in trouble, Gemma?”
For the briefest of seconds, maybe just one, she considered telling him the truth. Maybe he could take care of Monty for good. Immediately she banished the thought and felt shame in that hope. She couldn’t ask that of Jethro, and she couldn’t live with murder on her soul. Oh, if Monty ever came after her, she’d defend her baby. But planning his demise was wrong. “No. I’m not in trouble.”
“Who hurt you?” Jethro asked softly.
“Nobody,” she lied.
He watched her, his patience obvious. “The snub nose gun was a surprise to me. I have no doubt it’s unregistered, and it’s illegal to have a weapon like that on campus. You’re not someone who’d break the law unless you had a very good reason.”
“I’m a woman living alone outside of Washington DC. That’s a good reason to be armed.” She reached for another coaster and slid her cup onto it, standing. “Thank you for dinner and for dessert.”
He took the hint and stood, snagging his coat from the ground in one smooth motion. “You’re welcome.”
She preceded him to the door and opened it. “Good luck with, well, everything.”
