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end, hadn’t had to face her demons because she’d left half a dozen messages on an impersonal machine. Which only added more fuel to her annoyance.
    “I was out of town.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror before turning down a side street. “Your messages didn’t reach me until yesterday.”
    “Are you telling me that you were on assignment for more than three weeks?”
    He gave her a somewhat surprised look, then his face evened out and he muttered, “Yeah.”
    “For the magazine?”
    “My boss sent me out of town.”
    The words were right but she knew he was lying. Why and about what was a completely different matter. But, as Daniel had often cautioned, “If Max is talking, he’s lying.” She knew that despite his efforts, Daniel had been rebuffed by Max over the years. But Daniel had clearly been kept apprised of his son’s goings on. By Max’s mother? she wondered. Daniel had never said.
    “You aren’t a reporter at all, are you?” Not unless he worked for Soldier of Fortune magazine.
    “No.”
    He must’ve used all his words the first time they’d met. Now he’d run out.
    “You knew exactly what you were doing in there. And you have a gun on you. Not too many reporters I know carry a loaded weapon.”
    The confrontation between Max and the intruder hadn’t taken long, and even Emily, who hated violence of any kind, including in movies, knew that those movements were practiced. Very practiced.
    “Are you some kind of policeman in the States?” It was a logical conclusion after what he’d done earlier, except that he was too ... steely to be a police officer.
    “Sort of. Yeah.”
    Anger made her grit her teeth. “What does ‘sort of’ mean exactly?” At three in the morning, the wet streets were all but deserted. The tires hissed on the wet pavement, and the wipers thump-thump-thumped slowly across the windshield. And the smell of him, the heat of him, made her feel as steamy as the windows. She pressed the defrost button.
    “I work for a counterterrorist organization.”
    Could be another bullshit story. She wasn’t quite sure she believed him. But such a thing existed, so she didn’t call him a liar. Yet. “I presume for the United States government?”
    “Privately funded.”
    “You’re making it up.”
    He shrugged.
    “You’re serious?”
    “As death.”
    “Don’t say that.” She shivered. “Does it have a name?”
    “Terrorist Force Logistic Assault Command. T-FLAC for short.”
    “Why did you tell me you were a photojournalist when we first met? I’m not a terrorist.”
If Max really was a counterterrorist operative as he claimed to be, had Daniel known? Was that one more thing about his son that Daniel had conveniently omitted telling her the night he casually mentioned that his son wanted to go to the Castelreighs’ party with her?
    “No. But a man at that party was.”
    And? her brain encouraged. She turned her head to stare at him. “Was sleeping with me part of your way in, too? Or was that just a side benefit?” She wanted not to be hurt about it. She wanted not to be angry. She wanted, damn it, not to care one way or the other.
    It was unfortunate that the memory of their short fling had made such a lasting impact. With any luck propinquity would take care of that problem. Her stupid heart fluttered as she caught him watching her. She turned her head to look out of the window, but it was too late to stop the heated throb of her blood. He’d had that ability. One look and she’d been toast. No, she thought, feeling a little panicky. She was the melted butter to his hot toast.
    It was a good thing she had changed her mind about Franco, and would be seeing him soon. Their flight left in less than eight hours. Max could have Florence while she was in the States. With Franco. By the time she returned, Aries would be long gone and there’d be no need for them ever to see each other again.
    She was just fine with that.
    Three
    BIOTOXINS. SPORES. ASSASSINS.