Page 15 of Undercover Infidel

“She was skilled at finding vulnerabilities,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Lex.

“Ms. Wallace?”

I gave an affirmative jerk of my head without turning. “In systems. In people.”

Lex remained silent, but I sensed her watching me, evaluating whether to pursue the topic or let it drop. She chose the former.

“She must have been extraordinary to gain your trust,” she said. “That doesn’t strike me as something you give easily.”

I laughed without humor. “I give it rarely and apparently with poor judgment.”

“We all misjudge people sometimes.”

“Not in my position. Not with the stakes involved.” I turned to face her. “My failure to see through her could very well have resulted in the advancement of a weapons system with the ability to forever alter global stability.”

Lex approached slowly, stopping a few feet away. “How long were you involved?”

“Days.” The admission felt like pulling a splinter—sharp, then relieving. “Yet long enough that I should have recognized the inconsistencies. The information that never quite aligned.”

“No doubt she was trained to compartmentalize,” she said. “To maintain covers that withstand scrutiny. You can’t blame yourself for her deception.”

“Can’t I?” I moved away from the window, needing to occupy my hands. I selected a bottle of Scotch from the sideboard and poured two glasses. When she accepted the one I offered, I raised mine. “To better judgment in the coming year.”

“It is New Year’s Eve, isn’t it?” She glanced at her watch. “I’d lost track of the time. It’s almost midnight.”

“Not how either of us expected to spend it, I imagine. I don’t suppose you…”

“What?”

“Had, have, someone…” Why couldn’t I bring myself to actually ask?

“No.” She lowered her gaze. “I’d much prefer working on a classified operation in a Highland castle with a temperamental earl, regardless.” She smiled slightly.

I returned the grin despite myself. “And here we are.”

“Right.” She raised her glass. “To the new year. May it be less eventful than the last.”

“Good riddance to this one,” I declared, taking a drink.

Her expression softened slightly. “It wasn’t a banner year for me, either.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she merely sipped her Scotch, her gaze drifting to the fire. The shadows played across her face, highlighting the curve of her lips. Despite my better judgment, I found myself wondering again what lay beneath her composed exterior.

The clock on the mantel chimed midnight, marking the arrival of the new year.

“Happy New Year,” I said, raising my glass one final time.

“Happy New Year,” she echoed, touching hers to mine with a soft clink. “I should probably head to my room. It’s been a long day.”

She finished her drink and set the glass down. “Thanks for the tour and the history lesson. It was…illuminating.”

“I’ll join you, err. I mean I’ll retire as well. To my room.”

We walked in silence through the castle corridors, the only sound our footsteps on stone and the occasional creak of ancient timber. When we reached the countess’ suite, I paused.

“Good night, Lex.”

“Good night, Con.”