This came from the man at the window. How Denae wished she knew his name. Even when she was looking at the others, she couldn’t completely pull her attention from him.
“Hi,” said the woman with a bright smile and coffee-colored eyes. “I’m Cassie. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I brought a little of everything.”
Denae couldn’t help but return her smile. “You’re American.”
“Yep. From Arizona actually. You?”
“South Texas.”
Cassie’s eyes widened as she pushed her brunette hair over her shoulder. “We’ll have to catch up later.”
“I’d like that.” And Denae meant it. She hadn’t thought she would miss the States, but after being gone for so long, she did. She cleared her throat to settle herself and looked at the man Cassie had called Con. “Yes, I know where I am. I’m on Dreagan.”
“We’ll get to the why of that in a moment,” he said and settled himself into a slender chair near the window that looked too dainty to hold someone of his size.
He sat as if he were relaxed, but he reminded Denae of a caged lion just waiting for a reason to attack. And when the attack came, it would be quick.
And lethal.
“My name is Constantine. Have you heard of me?”
She glanced at the other man. Again. “Only in reports. I know nothing else.”
“Reports?” asked the unknown man, his gaze flickering briefly to her.
Con leaned forward in the chair and motioned to the second man. “This is Kellan, Denae. He’s the one … who found you.”
Con’s pause was deliberate, but she didn’t understand its meaning. Her gaze returned to Kellan to find he had once more turned to look out the window, dismissing her as irrelevant.
Damn, but he was gorgeous. Even if the thought of being in the same room with her annoyed him.
“Who sent you?” Con asked.
Denae lifted the glass of water from the tray and drained the entire contents before she bit off a piece of toast, chewed, and swallowed. That little bit helped to ease the hunger gnawing at her. “I wish it was as simple as telling you.”
“You’re safe here,” Cassie said.
Denae smiled sadly and stared at the tray of food, her appetite suddenly gone. “I was betrayed.”
“By who?” Cassie urged.
What difference did it make if they knew? They could have let her die. Instead, they brought her back and tended to her wound. Was it a ruse, though? She had been well and truly betrayed by MI5. Denae no longer knew who to trust, but her odds were on those at Dreagan at the moment.
In all her missions, with all the insight she’d gained from people, she had learned one hard lesson—the only one she could trust was herself.
She lifted her gaze to Con. “If I tell you, can you get me out of the country under a different name?”
“You want to disappear?” he asked, intrigued.
“Yes. If I can get out of the country, I’ll make sure I’m never found.”
Cassie sank into the chair beside the bed. “And if they find you?”
“They’ll kill me. It’s what Matt tried to do. I was bait.”
“Bait,” Con repeated slowly, his brow furrowed. “Tell me who sent you.”
“MI5.” Denae almost expected MI5 operatives to bust the door down at the mere mention of their name. They did claim to know everything that was going on.
Con surged to his feet and paced the room in silence. For the first time Denae actually noticed the room and not just Kellan.
The bedroom was spacious, with the large window in front of the bed and two narrower ones on either side letting in an abundance of light. The walls were painted a muted steel blue with eggshell-colored crown molding so large and intricate that it boggled her mind.
The floors were dark hardwood with rugs of varying sizes and colors placed throughout. A fireplace with a white marble mantel was on her right.
A cream comforter accented with navy piping around the edges lay across the mattress of the four-poster bed. Next to the bed was a small table with an antique-looking clock and an array of yellow daffodils and white tulips.
The window dressings were the same cream as the comforter with navy sheers pushed aside to let in the light. A picture of a sunset over a loch filled one wall, while an ornately framed oval mirror graced another, and a collection of small square pictures of what could only be described as Scottish life filled another.
It was a gender-neutral room, and she found the colors soothing. She had never been partial to floral prints or pastels.
“Why has MI5 focused on us?” Con asked as he stopped at the foot of her bed.
She looked into his black eyes noting the barely suppressed anger and shrugged. “My orders were to use my photographic memory to record what was in the cave.”
“What were you looking for?” Kellan asked.
Denae glanced at Kellan before looking at the bed. “My superior said I would know it when I saw it.”
Con’s frown deepened. “That’s all you were told?”