Free Bridal Armor by Debra Webb

having the intel before anyone else. How had he missed the rumors that prompted the Initiative to launch an investigation against him? He had plenty of enemies, that hadn’t been an exaggeration, but he had allies, too. Allies who should have given him some sort of warning this was on the horizon.
    He made the last turn and the headlights swept across the snow-covered landscape, bouncing off the fresh blanket of white as he parked in front of the cabin that was their destination. He left the car running and stared through the windshield, weighing the options. It could be a trap, one designed by Jo, or Whelan, or a faceless enemy.
    Could he really trust her? Would the smarter choice be to call in and give her as well as himself up?
    In a career as blurred by gray-area choices as his had been, every decision came down to one fine point: Would he be able to look at himself in the mirror? This decision was no different, which quickly put an end to his internal debate. He extended his hand. “Give me the key and wait here.”
    “We’ll go in together.”
    “No.”
    “I need you to trust me, Thomas.”
    “Jo, I trust you as much as I trust anyone.”
    “Well, it’s a good thing I know when you’re lying to me.”
    He sighed. She’d always been perceptive and she had the added advantage of having seen him at his worst. Frankly, he was too tired to keep up the facade of a man unperturbed by explosions, gunmen and weather. “The key. Going first shows I trust you not to have something up there rigged to explode or otherwise ruin my night.”
    “Again, hurting you would be counterproductive to keeping you alive,” she grumbled, fishing the key out of her purse.
    After giving him a long stare, she handed him the key and he carefully climbed out of the vehicle. The snowfall could very well be hiding trip wires—set by someone other than Jo.
    He knew if she wanted him dead, she could have killed him a few different ways by now and saved herself from his increasing irritability. Whether she realized it yet or not, it looked to him like someone was undermining both of them.
    Thinking about the phone number on the euro took him back. Way back. And the distinctive citrus scent at the explosion only confirmed his suspicions about Whelan’s involvement. Granted, he’d cost the explosives expert a small fortune five years ago, but there had to be a reason he’d make an attempt for revenge now.
    The virus rumors, well, that was a bigger concern if the remnants of the Isely family were trying to get back in the bio-weapons game.
    He looked around, wondering if they’d been followed. He hadn’t seen another car for the past hour, but it paid to be cautious. Behind the car, the snow was already filling in the tire marks. The storm might just help them survive the night. The trees surrounding the cabin were already bowing under the weight of the white covering and he imagined in other circumstances the scene might feel picturesque. In other circumstances they might be a couple on a romantic retreat, rather than two agents running for their lives.
    When he reached the porch, he knelt down in the snow and examined each step in the wash of light from the headlights. He was tired and cold, but he ignored both in favor of handling this the right way.
    The wind had already created small snowdrifts against the front door and windows. He hoped the owners stored basic tools and supplies for renters. The last thing he needed was to miss the rehearsal dinner because they were snowed in at a remote cabin without any way to communicate with Lucas, or more important, his niece and sister.
    His niece was counting on him.
    “I will make the wedding,” he vowed to the storm as he stood up and braced for the approach to the door.
    His feet were nearly numb, but he felt the give of the first step and waited until he was sure it was just the creaking of old wood and not something more volatile.
    “That one is broken,” Jo called from the