A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [70]
Roman stepped forward and, despite Rachel’s narrow, concentrated stare, removed the remote control from her hands.
“She didn’t see anything she hasn’t seen before.”
Rachel started to shake her head, but Roman stopped her by clutching her arm tighter.
She responded by punching him hard in the shoulder. Twice. Three times. She’d keep pounding until he released her, so he did.
“Manhandling me in the park was acceptable since you were trying to save my life. But back off here, Roman. I’m perfectly safe.”
Tremayne sat forward, her manicured nails tapping lightly together.
Not a good sign.
“No,” he said, through tightly clenched teeth, “you’re not.”
“Mr. Brach is quite correct, Ms. Marlowe. Your presence here is ill advised. But since Mr. Brach’s judgment has proved questionable so far where you are concerned, I’m afraid I’ll have to take your future under advisement myself.”
No one but him heard Rachel’s sharp intake of breath, but she quickly covered it with a sly grin. “Then take this under advisement, Ms. Spy Boss. I know who designed those graphics. And with a little negotiation, I may let you in on the secret.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“MS. SPY BOSS MAY BE accurate and mildly clever, but silly nonetheless.” The elegant woman stood and extended her hand. “Amelie Tremayne.”
Rachel arched a brow. “Is that your real name?”
“For the moment.”
With a nod, Rachel accepted her hand. “Fair enough.”
“Roman,” Ms. Tremayne said, her eyes barely flicking toward her operative as she gestured for Rachel to sit. “Would you excuse us? I think Ms. Marlowe and I have a few things to discuss.”
Ice rippled over Rachel’s spine at the sound of her lover’s cool dismissal. She could only imagine how he bristled. Well, she didn’t have to imagine for long. Roman stood his ground.
“I don’t see the logic in that, Amelie. This is my project. I’m still the lead field operative, unless something has changed?”
A miniscule degree of regret glazed Tremayne’s sharp blue eyes. “Quite a bit has changed. You jeopardized the mission by your continued involvement with Ms. Marlowe. Your status on this case is pending at best.”
Rachel didn’t turn and look at Roman. She didn’t have to. She figured humiliation looked the same on proud men as it did on women, and right now, her entire expression radiated beet-red with anger.
She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her hands tightly under her armpits to keep from jumping up and slapping this rude, vindictive woman. So what if she held the safety of innocents in her hands? She didn’t have to be so holier than thou about it.
“His status better change quickly or what I do know will remain just that—what I know and you don’t.”
Tremayne arched a pencil-drawn brow. “You’re feisty.”
Rachel grinned, pushing away the creepiness of having another woman call her that. “Must be what Roman loves about me.”
She swallowed her wince and forced her expression to remain confident. Love. She’d used the word love. Well, that was presumptuous.
“How do you know he loves anything about you at all? You have too much faith in men, Ms. Marlowe.”
“Actually, until I met Roman, I had none whatsoever.”
Amelie Tremayne took her seat, sliding closer to the table with casual grace. “So you’ve changed your views based on a man who has done nothing but lie to you from the beginning?”
“Ultimately, what he lied to me about was unimportant. When push came to shove, I got the truth. I’m here, aren’t I? And I have information you need. So unless you’re going to try to beat it out of me, I suggest you drop your attitude toward Roman and let’s get down to business.”
A long moment thickened in the air. Rachel had to admit she had no idea if Tremayne would order the information beaten out of her, but she had to trust that she could bluff her way just a little further.
Tremayne’s gaze