Free Shana Galen by True Spies

Plans A and B now. “And you know this because?”
    “You’re married, Smythe.” Keating paced away from him, then rounded on his heel. “Do all women want excitement and danger?”
    Adrian thought of Sophia, lying still and quiet beneath the white and lavender counterpane in her bedchamber. When he’d left her, her dark hair trailed over the pillow like a spill of chocolate, and her graceful eyebrows stood out on her pale skin like angry slashes. No, all women did not crave excitement and danger. Some women craved a family, the birth of a child.
    “I would be careful about putting all women into any one category,” Adrian said now. “It has caused me some difficulty in the past.”
    Baron waved an arm encased in a plain but well-made coat. Sophia was always telling him to have more coats and shirts made, but he didn’t want to look like a dandy with all the laces and frills. Perhaps he should ask Baron for the name of his tailor.
    “Yes, well, your wife is probably an exception,” Baron was saying. “In the past, mine has always seemed content to be home with our daughters.”
    Adrian well knew looks could be deceiving.
    “She seemed to enjoy all the Society functions and charitable organizations. But now… now I wonder.” Baron dropped down again in the chair opposite Adrian and lifted the brandy that had been sitting untouched.
    “What do you wonder?”
    Baron stared into his brandy, and Adrian could almost hear him deciding how much to reveal. “If I even know her at all.”
    Ah, now this was moving into familiar ground. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to resort to Plan B after all. Perhaps there was a Plan C: convince the man to talk to his wife.
    “Listen, Keating,” Adrian said, leaning back. “I know the kind of life you lead, because I’ve led it too. All the traveling doesn’t make for a very close marriage. Hell, Sophia and I didn’t even know we were both operatives until a couple of months ago. But I’ll tell you what I’ve learned and save you the trouble of murdering this man or having to speculate”—ad nauseam, but he didn’t say that part aloud—“about what she might be thinking.”
    Baron raised his brows, looking skeptical.
    “All you have to do is talk to her.” There. Adrian folded his arms across his chest. He felt rather proud of himself, actually. Sophia wasn’t the only one who could be sympathetic or solve others’ personal problems.
    “Talk to her?” Baron said, sounding less than enthusiastic about Adrian’s advice. “And tell her what? I overheard her chatting about bedding another man?”
    “I don’t know that I’d take that tack…”
    “Oh, perhaps I should reveal I’m a member of the Barbican group. Even if I hadn’t pledged to keep that a secret, I can imagine her reaction when she realizes I’ve been lying to her for years.”
    “Yes, well—”
    “Or how about this idea? I go find this Rafe and beat the hell out of him, because the more I think about it, the more I think this might actually be some kind of rival operation’s method of getting to me.”
    Adrian shook his head. “Wait. You’ve lost me.”
    “Ever heard of the Babylon group?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    Baron stood again. “I haven’t either. I kept thinking she’d got it wrong, and it was the Barbican group, but I can’t think why one of our own would do this. Neither you nor I know of a Rafe Trollope in the group.”
    “True, but I don’t know many other operatives. I’m at sea here, Keating. Are you saying the man trying to seduce your wife is another spy?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m saying. He works for a group called the Babylon group.”
    Adrian nodded. “Babylon, Barbican. It’s close. But you think this Babylon group might be trying to gain access to you by seducing your wife?”
    “The thought crossed my mind.”
    A shiver ran down Adrian’s spine. “Well, why the hell didn’t you say this in the beginning? Now we’re dealing with a serious issue.