Baby Battalion. Cassie Miles

hair was sprinkled with gray. His features were ordinary, which, she supposed, was a plus for a spy.

      After Nolan introduced them, he slid into the booth, leaving room for her. She had no choice but to sit beside Nolan with their thighs only inches apart. Using her briefcase, she created a barrier between them.

      Omar sipped from his coffee mug. “I recommend the Minuteman blueberry muffins.”

      “None for me.” She’d had a big waffle and sausage breakfast with Joey. “How’s the coffee?”

      “Passable.” Omar signaled to the waitress.

      Nolan stretched his arm across the back of the booth, and she leaned forward to avoid making contact. Her neatly folded hands rested on the tabletop. “Is there any information you need from me, Mr. Harris?”

      “I’ve already run a background check.”

      Of course, he had. The CIA probably knew more about her than she knew herself. “Did you find anything interesting?”

      Though his clothes were casual, his manner turned sharp. His dark eyes riveted on her in a piercing gaze. “Where are you sending your son to school?”

      Taken aback, she sputtered, “What?”

      “I have an eighteen-month-old. My wife and I are trying to decide where he should go to school. Any ideas?”

      “You?” Nolan said. “I didn’t know you had a baby.”

      Omar raked his fingers through his graying hair. “I know I’m a little old to be a first-time dad.”

      “Second wife?” Nolan asked.

      “Number three. The third time is a charm. I couldn’t be happier.” He turned back to her. “Any suggestions?”

      “I love our neighborhood in Arlington,” she said. “When we bought our house, we checked into the public schools. I’m happy with that option.”

      “You bought your home with your husband,” Nolan said. “Joe Donovan.”

      “Yes.” Once again, Joe was front and center. She’d thought about him more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in the last month.

      “I’m sorry for your loss,” Omar said. “Your husband was a hero. If you don’t mind my asking, how did he come to know Bart Bellows?”

      “I’m not sure. Bart never really explained. He showed up on my doorstep, took my hand and helped me through the most difficult time of my life. Honestly, I don’t know how I would have managed without him.”

      “You never knew why,” Omar said.

      She shook her head. “I know I’m not the only one he’s helped through a rough time.”

      “That’s the truth,” Omar said. “Bart has dedicated his life and his wealth to helping veterans returning from war, giving them a jump start on a new life. That’s the idea behind Corps Security and Investigations. Right, Nolan?”

      “CSaI is more than a job. We’re brothers.”

      Though Tess didn’t know the backgrounds of the men who formed CSaI, Bart had spoken of the pain they’d suffered. She knew how proud he was of these veterans. Bart’s intense concern for others made his relationship with his son even more difficult to understand. Why was he estranged from Victor? Why hadn’t he been able to help his only child?

      FIVE YEARS AGO, Nolan had faced the prospect of never seeing his wife or his child again. His enemies had been watching Tess and Joey. If they had any idea that Joe Donovan was still alive, his family would suffer the consequences. At the time, Nolan had thought there was no greater pain than separation. He’d been wrong. Today, spending time with Tess, was sheer torture.

      When she’d looked into his eyes and then turned away in disgust, a molten dagger sliced into his gut. He was ashamed of what he had become. His scars made him grotesque—unworthy of her. Beauty and the beast was a damn fairy tale. In real life, the pretty people stuck together while monsters like him hid in the shadows.

      On the street, when he’d touched her elbow, she had cringed. In the café, she’d used her briefcase to build a wall between them. Though she’d tried to be polite, it had been pretty damned clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.

      The rejection seared his soul, burning away the thick protective shields he used to keep his distance from anyone who tried to get too close. He must never let Tess know that Nolan Law was, in fact, her beloved Joe. It was better for her to remember him with fondness than to face the god-awful truth.

      Meeting his son was bound to open an even deeper wound. Kids weren’t hampered by manners; they pointed at him and hid their faces in their mother’s skirts. In the early days before his burns and facial reconstruction had healed, Nolan couldn’t stand being out in public. His appearance was better now. After more surgeries than he could count, he looked almost normal. But not normal enough; his face was still distorted enough to drive Tess away from him.

      What the hell had he expected? That she’d take one look at him and leap into his arms? No such happy ending was possible for him.

      Though he wanted to run from her and hide himself in a dark cave where he could lick his wounds, solitude wasn’t the answer. The minute Jessop mentioned Greenaway, Nolan knew the threat had returned. He had to put aside his feelings and dedicate himself to protecting her and Joey.

      The main reason he’d wanted Tess to meet Omar was so that he could gauge the other man’s reaction to the mention of Joe Donovan. Nobody, except for Bart, knew that Nolan was Joe. Keeping his identity and the fact that he’d survived was vital to the safety of his wife and child.

      Omar had passed the test. Though the longtime CIA operative had been trained to conceal his reactions, Nolan’s perceptions were razor sharp. He had sensed no interest from Omar in Joe Donovan.

      Nolan wished he hadn’t promised to escort Tess to her next meeting. He was anxious for this misery to end, and it took every tattered shred of his self-control to behave in the cool, collected manner that befitted a marine. Remaining civil was killing him by inches. Combat would have been easier.

      After they left the café and were back in the Mercedes, he tried to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Tell me about the people we’re going to see.”

      “The Zamir family,” she said, “is filthy rich and socially connected at the highest level. The three daughters are always dressed head-to-toe in designer fashion, even the fourteen-year-old. The father has a diplomatic post in the Royal Saudi Embassy, but I don’t think it’s a real job. Just a title.”

      Nolan trusted her instincts. He always had. “Why do you think he’s lying?”

      “I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a lie. Mr. Zamir’s connection to the embassy is a convenience while he’s handling his other business.”

      Keeping his focus on the traffic around them, he stole a glance at her. Her shoulder-length black hair fell forward, obscuring his view of her lovely face. Her slender fingers laced in her lap, and he noticed that she still wore her platinum wedding band. She’d moved it from her left hand to her right, but it was still there. She hadn’t forgotten him.

      He cleared his throat. “What’s Zamir’s real business?”

      “I have no idea. This town is so full of intrigue that the truth is little more than a rumor.”

      He didn’t like the idea of Tess being swept up in one of these intrigues. “How did you meet these clients?”

      “You have a lot of questions.”

      “I’m an investigator,” he said. “Did you meet the Zamirs through Bart?”

      “A lot of my clients were referrals from Bart, but I met the Zamir family a long time ago when I was catering. They use high-profile event planners most of the time, but I’m the one they call for last-minute