before the mission, how was he going to stay indifferent once they were overseas? Especially now that he knew the truth about her? A truth he didn’t dare tell her. He couldn’t risk her reaction, not at this point. With a mission just ahead of them.
Also, they’d had one bad interaction a few days ago. Oliver had brought them together in a meeting room and asked if either of them had doubts. For any reason.
Jack turned to Eliza. “I’m a little concerned about your age, Eliza. You’ve never dated or…” He didn’t state the obvious. “Are you sure you want to do this? Play a married woman?”
Eliza’s eyes had burned in response. “I grew up in a brothel. I think I can handle being married to you.”
“I was just trying to think of—”
“Jack.” Oliver shook his head. “She’ll be fine.”
In hindsight, Jack never should have asked her about any of it. But he still thought it was a valid point. In the end Oliver convinced him it was a nonissue. Eliza wouldn’t have to do more than stay at Jack’s side and hold his hand.
“Her counselor thinks she’s ready,” Oliver told him the other day. “She’s received training. I think she can handle it.”
The incident created an even greater divide between him and Eliza. He was surprised she hadn’t asked to work with a different agent. He understood now that she had probably been embarrassed by Jack’s concerns. Now she wouldn’t look at him, like she hated him. Jack understood. Even before the conversation with Oliver, Eliza hadn’t liked him, not even a little. She tolerated him, nothing more. She was using him to get what she wanted—the chance to put away traffickers.
It was the same thing Jack wanted. Nothing more.
Yesterday in their final briefing together, Jack had waited until they were the last people in the room. Then he had looked into her eyes. “I don’t doubt you can do this. But are you sure you want to? Pretend we’re married?”
“Yes.” She looked away and gathered her various folders. “With you… pretending will be easy. Right, Luke?”
So she was upset with him for several things. Including, no doubt, the fact that he was a guy. He longed to know more about her, about her childhood and her family, about where she had grown up and whether she remembered anyone from her past. Had she ever been to Lower Barton Creek or Spanish Lookout like Lizzie James—the great-granddaughter of Ike Armstrong? Those questions would have to wait until she lowered her guard some.
If she ever did.
No, somehow he had to keep it all to himself. His questions, his feelings—and the knowledge about that terrible summer. All while pretending to be Eliza Lawrence’s husband on an island with beaches as beautiful as any in the world. Any other time, Jack wouldn’t have blinked. Wouldn’t have doubted for a moment that he could pull this off. He was a machine.
Undercover operations with a female agent were nothing new for him. He’d worked in tandem on covert missions in years past. Just never in a situation like this, with a girl he was trying not to fall for. The SUV pulled up in front of the hotel and Eliza walked out and toward the vehicle.
She looked gorgeous, every bit the happy bride ready for her honeymoon. They both wore wedding rings. Terri had taken her shopping again, this time for designer clothes and new sunglasses. As Eliza climbed into the SUV, as she took the seat beside him in the second row, Jack sensed something different about her. It only took a few minutes to figure it out.
Eliza wasn’t a victim anymore.
She wasn’t trapped in a situation where she had no choice about her days, no way to leave her father’s captivity. Working as an informant was her choosing. It was how she wanted to spend her days, and the victory she clearly felt must have been palpable. He knew all that before she even said a word.
The driver was an agent, so they didn’t need to pretend yet. Jack shifted so he could see her better. “You look the part.”
“Thank you.” She adjusted her sunglasses and stared out her side window. “Is the weather in the Bahamas warm like Belize?”
It was going to be a long four days if she wouldn’t look at him. But Jack had to trust her. She had told Oliver she could pretend better than anyone. Time would tell.
“Yes.” He pulled his own sunglasses from his backpack and