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absolute worst.
    I watched Rain walk away. She looked lovely in a lavender pantsuit that hugged her elegant curves. Her hair was unbraided and it was just as I imagined. Long, thick, inky black waves that swung when she walked.
    This was not going to work. How could it? How could I keep my profession a secret from Rain, when her freaking roommate knew firsthand what I did? A bilious mass churned in the pit of my stomach.
    Had she told anyone? Would she tell anyone? Would she tell Rain? This is what I got for thinking, for feeling. Showing fucking kindness . Luke was right. The Group was right. I couldn’t afford to be moral and be effective at my job.
    The waiter swung by and I ordered calamari and spring rolls.
    Then mydrink came and I sipped it slowly, fighting the urge to slam it down and then order something harder. I hadn’t felt nervous in a very long time. The blonde could ruin my career and my chance at normalcy, at love.
    I glanced in the direction of the bathroom. They were still inside. I hoped the blonde, Charlotte, didn’t say anything. Not only would it ruin my chances with Rain, but it could become an international incident. The Jamaican government didn’t know American operatives were on their soil completing missions. Of course, England had given The Group carte blanche in these matters. Still, a courtesy call to the Prime Minister was usually in order.
    A few words overheard by a waiter or a tourist, and the next thing you know my mission would be Tweeted, Facebooked and then reported in the mainstream and alternative news. I couldn’t have that. The Group wouldn’t tolerate it either.
    Company policy directed me to tie up all loose ends. I was supposed to have killed her, Rain’s roommate. Tossed her over a cliff, a hiking accident. Suffocated her with my hands and then tossed her in the pool, a drunken spill. I was not supposed to have let her go. And because I had, there could be trouble.
    For now, I hoped she was too scared to speak. I’d know in a minute when Rain returned to the table. If she returned to the table. I’d be able to see it on her face.
    I should’ve killed her.
    Minutes passed. The appetizers arrived. I ordered a bottle of Pellegrino and nursed it. Finally, Rain returned with a tentative smile on her face. I exhaled. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know, not with the way her eyes lit up when she saw me.
    Okay, maybe I didn’t have to kill her.
    Rain sat down and reached for her drink. “I’m so sorry about that. Charlotte’s under a lot of stress.”
    I leaned forward. “Did she say why?” And held my breath.
    “A mixture of things. Her fiancé refuses to set a date for their wedding, and she’s sad about me moving to New York.” Frowning, Rain glanced toward the bathroom. “She absolutely refused to come back to the table. Most likely she’s embarrassed. Charlotte’s going back to our room to pack and then take some pain medicine and go to sleep.”
    Of course she refused to return to the table. She was probably afraid I’d stab her with my steak knife.
    “How’s her ankle?”
    “She’s fine. She said she—” Rain sat back in her seat, an odd look on her face. “How did you know about her ankle? I don’t recall mentioning it.”
    Shit. She’d fallen, getting away from me and the dead guy. Tripped over a root and twisted her ankle. That was before I’d threatened to kill her if she told a soul, not after.
    I kept my face calm, genial smile in place. Breathe. Breathe. “She was limping wasn’t she? When she went to the bathroom.”
    She nodded slowly. “Of course. Yes, she was. But just barely. You’re very observant.”
    I drained my cup. “I notice pretty much everything. It’s part of my job.”
    “Which is? You never said.”
    Taking a deep breath, I cycled through my various covers. Which would be the best chance at giving our relationship a shot? I was an accountant with Zelie, a computer analyst with Heidi, an FBI agent with Rachel…there