Chapter 1
Kam King undid the top button of his dress shirt.
He had ditched the tie. The tightened collar rubbed his scars.
He didn't need a constant reminder of the prison in which he found himself.
He adjusted the wig one last time and leaned toward the mirror to make sure the contacts changing his eye color were in place.
Tonight he was Ryan McNite. Another name. Another mission. This life was wearing on him. He needed out.
Straightening, he gave himself one last look over.
It wasn't Hollywood-level disguise, but his job today was to keep to the shadows and observe.
Someone on the Senator's payroll was conversing with Lysander.
His handler told him to leave it alone, but if he could find a way to connect Lysander to a crime on US soil, he could finally shut down Spartak for good and leave this life behind him.
Taylor, sitting on the back porch swing at her parents' house sobbing, flashed in his mind. He closed his eyes and let the pain wash over him. She was never far from his thoughts. One day, he would take down Spartak and be able to return to his life. To her.
He shook his head. Who was he kidding? She probably didn't want anything to do with who he had become. He huffed. First, he would get out of the mess he woke up in, then he could worry about what happened next.
He took a deep breath and stepped onto the elevator. "Here goes nothing."
The elevator music hummed softly, but did nothing to soothe the buzz in his veins. He leaned into the adrenaline, allowing it to sharpen his senses. The elevator dinged.
It was time to sniff out a traitor.
The chatter of voices and strum of classical music filtered their way to him from behind the large banquet hall doors. McNite was a wealthy businessman who donated to the Senator's campaign, or so his dossier read. Kam put on his brightest smile as he reached for the door handle.
The door launched at him, and he jumped back as a tall man in a black suit barreled into him.
He had to use all of his restraint to not put the guy on the ground.
The man turned toward him, and then he had to check his reaction again so that the recognition didn't show on his face.
Paul VanKirk. What was the FBI agent doing in Seattle?
"Sorry about that, sir," Paul said as he took a step away from Kam.
"Not a problem. Hope she's alright." Kam winked.
Paul stared at him.
"You were running out of there fast. I know only two things that could make a man run that fast. An emergency or a woman.
Since there's no screaming, I assumed you're either chasing after or running from a woman.
" Kam smiled. Why was he engaging VanKirk?
He should be making his way into the shadows.
He was supposed to find a traitor, not try to make friends with the FBI agent he had beaten.
He had done his best to pull his punches, but he had to make it believable.
It was better than what Ian had planned for the agent.
Paul grumbled something about people with money while he turned from him.
If Paul was here, Taylor could be here too.
He had avoided confronting her last month when the Seward Field Office team took down Ian Volkov.
Seeing her even from a distance made his desire to fight for his freedom burn brighter.
She had no longer been a part of his dreams and memories, but there in the flesh.
He couldn't put her at risk until he got himself out of this world, though.
He would get Lysander, then he would be done.
He more than paid his debt to his country.
It was time for him to retire and find out if Taylor could love the broken man he was now.
The room was warm as people sat and ate their dinners. Kam's phone dinged.
You're at table 14.
Kam smirked. He knew that his handler couldn't resist the opportunity to take down Lysander. He wove his way through the tightly packed tables, looking for something. He wasn't sure what exactly, but he would know when he saw it.
Table 14 was on the edge of the room, partially in the shadows. Perfect. He could see and not necessarily be seen.
The string quartet packed up for the night as a DJ started to play an upbeat song. Looks like he missed the meal. It's just as well. He'd eat when he got back to his hotel. Now, he needed to focus on the room.
His gaze stopped at the edge of the dance floor.
The woman looked like she'd be anywhere but talking with that guy, but that wasn't what made his eyes stop their searching.
The woman had short blonde hair, but he knew that face.
It was still the face he saw in his dreams. The only one that kept him from going too deep into the darkness.
Taylor.
If that guy didn't take the hint that she was giving, Kam would have to break every rule tonight and go to her. His phone pinged with another message. Kam tore his eyes away from Taylor long enough to see that his handler sent him a picture.
This is the target.
This couldn't be right.
Are you sure the intel is solid?
As solid as it can be.
He stared at the picture. The hair matched the woman across the room, but those eyes–those were the same ones he fell in love with. There was no way that Taylor was the one contacting Lysander.
I'm going to make contact.
He could feel his phone vibrating as he slid it into his pocket. He was sure that his handler was waving him off. Reminding him that Lysander was the one they wanted, not the mole.
The man was still talking with Taylor. When he leaned into her space, Kam felt himself closing the gap faster than was probably necessary. The man reached up to touch her face, but Taylor grabbed his wrist and brought his arm down before pushing him away. Kam was close enough to hear them now.
"I said I wasn't interested in dancing. Now, if you don't mind, I need to use the ladies' room." Taylor spun right into Kam's path.
He caught her arms to straighten her. "I'm so sorry. I–" Kam cleared his throat and turned on his billionaire charm and fake accent. "Well, I was coming over to rescue you from a man who forgot how to be a gentleman, but I see my services are not needed."
Taylor stared at him, blinking slowly. How he missed those eyes. They were somehow more beautiful than he remembered. The way the dark brown melted into a golden ring around the outside mesmerized him.
She shook her head and took a step out of his reach. "You are quite right. I don't need you." She looked over Kam's shoulder, then back to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Ryan McNite." The lie rolled off his tongue, but this time it tasted bitter. How he longed to just be Kam King. To go back to being in love with Taylor Ertz. To have a family and three little ones of their own.
Taylor stared at him a moment longer. "I'm Tina Miller.
" They were both pretending to be someone different tonight.
She extended her hand. Instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Electricity crackled through him at the feel of her hand pressed against his lips.
The small gasp from her told him she felt something too.
"I have to go." She spun on her heels.
"I'm not great at dancing, but I like long walks on the beach." The first words he had spoken to her all those years ago had the desired effect because she stopped mid-stride and faced him. She tilted her head, looking him over. A shine came over her eyes, and she blinked it away.
"I prefer to sit and read a book." She took another step away from him. "I do have to go."
She called over her shoulder as she walked away, "Don't die before I get back. I have so many questions for you."
He watched her weave through the crowd and slip through the side door.
His phone was vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out to see who was calling him.
Silencing the phone, he shoved it back into his pocket.
His handler could wait. He needed to figure out who was framing Taylor.
He broke so many rules tonight, but he didn't care.
No one was going to get away with letting Taylor take the fall for their deeds.
He'd do anything to get a second chance at his life again.
"If I had known dying your hair and getting you to wear that ridiculous dress would have forced you out of your no-dating funk, I would have told Schulz to send you undercover a while ago.
" Paul's voice in her earpiece was usually a comfort.
Letting her know she wasn't alone. Right now, he was acting more like the annoying older brother that she never had.
"Shut it, Paul. We have a mission," she bit back. They had to make sure the files stayed secure. She had been working for the senator for a week, and she still wasn't completely sure who the mole was.
McNite walked back into her mind. How did he know Kam's terrible pick-up line?
Did he know where Kam was? The man would make any woman in the room swoon with his sandy-blond hair and bright blue eyes.
He had nothing on Kam, though. In her dreams, she could still feel the velvet softness of his short-cropped hair and his dark chocolate eyes that always seemed to hold a bit of mischief.
Taylor shook her head. She had been searching for her dead fiancé for the past three years.
She was about to give up on her crazy notion that he was still alive when Nalani sat with a sketch artist last month and Paul confirmed that that was Ian's right-hand man.
The scar on his neck was new, but Gregor Petrov looked eerily similar to Kam.
Now tonight McNite told her words only she would be able to connect back to Kam.
It was like Kam was close by or trying to send her a signal.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts. She needed to focus. Failure was not an option tonight. "I'm almost to the stairs."