TWO

      Mrs. Renault appeared at Madison’s office door. “You’re back.”

      Madison nodded, biting her tongue about Mrs. Renault dropping Grant off out at the Nest last night. “Is it time for the morning report?”

      Tall and lithe, the fiftyish Mrs. Renault entered, wearing a slim skirt and fitted top. Her taupe heels clicked softly on the hardwood floor. “I thought with the Valentine’s ball tonight at the club, you’d be home resting.”

      “No, I’ve been having a heated discussion with Grant.”

      “And you’re not happy with me for taking him out there.”

      “Actually, no, I’m not.”

      “Fine.” She pulled out her pad and poised her pen.

      “That’s all the explanation I get?” Madison fingered her Purple Heart, rolled it over in her palm.

      “You were in danger. You needed backup.”

      Madison resisted the urge to raise her voice. “I don’t trust him.”

      “You have trust issues with everyone but me,” Mrs. Renault said, decidedly calm.

      “After last night, I think I should be on the fence about you, too.”

      If that comment ruffled her, Mrs. Renault didn’t show it. “Well, I trust Grant.”

      Madison envied her that. She was coming to care for this man. She yearned to trust him. But she just didn’t dare. Still, curiosity got the better of her. “Why?” Mrs. Renault’s instincts were usually flawless, but the woman knew he’d been reporting agency activities to Talbot and Dayton.

      “If Grant had reported anything negative on us, we’d all have been hauled in for questioning. We haven’t been. My guess is Grant has done nothing more than tell the commander we’ve been working internally to assure no one here breached security by telling the reporters anything about the Nest. He’s probably been instrumental in keeping heat off the entire agency.”

      Madison hadn’t considered that possibility.

      “You must remember, Madison, Grant is in a delicate position. He’s subject to recall for two years after the date he officially came off active duty. He can’t refuse to report, though I imagine feeling about you as he does, he wishes he could.”

      Didn’t she wish she knew how he felt about her? Wouldn’t it be a gift to be sure? “I know he can’t refuse them.” She’d gone through that two-year period herself.

      “So he’s done his duty. No more and no less.”

      “And I shouldn’t fault him for it.”

      “He took an oath, as did you.” Mrs. Renault looked over, and gave her the infamous Renault lift of the brow. “Would you respect a man who made an oath and didn’t keep it?”

      “No.” She wouldn’t, but didn’t have to like admitting it. Grant’s position wasn’t lost on her. He was a man torn between the dictates of his faith and his country. And if her wishes and Mrs. Renault’s instincts were right, he was also torn between faith, country and her: a woman he cared about. Being pulled in three different directions had to keep him up nights, but she was up nights, too. She cared about him, but should she? Was caring about him putting her and her staff in jeopardy? If he was being honest with her, then no. But was he? Considering the pressure on him from all sides...she wasn’t sure. Odds were, he wasn’t sure himself. “Grant reporting shouldn’t be necessary. Talbot and Dayton know what we do here. You’d think they’d see merit in it.” Madison sipped from her mug, stared at the sun streaking in through the white sheers covering the window. “In four years, we’ve gone from zero to success by any standards. That should be enough.”

      “You’re assuming they don’t see merit in our work, and you know anecdotal evidence can’t be enough to negate a hard look when anything classified is involved. The Nest is a lot more...sensitive.”

      She did know, but she didn’t have to like that, either. She looked at the Purple Heart medal and spoke from her heart. “The problem is, I want to trust him.”

      “You’ve developed strong feelings for him?”

      “I wouldn’t go that far.”

      “Of course you wouldn’t. How far would you go?”

      “I hate it when you do that.” Madison frowned. Since her days as a POW, she was cautious with her trust. Betrayed and burned as she’d been—who wouldn’t be? “Why do you make me admit what I feel, especially when I don’t want to feel anything?” Madison let her see her exasperation. “I don’t want to care about him. I don’t want to trust him.”

      “But you just said you do want to trust him....”

      “See what I mean? He stirs things inside me and makes me so crazy I don’t even know my own mind.”

      “At the risk of rattling you even more—your hands are shaking—I believe you’re making yourself crazy. He’s just being Grant, doing the best he can in an awkward situation.”

      Madison groaned and kept staring at the medal. It meant so much to her, and Grant now knew it. Though she’d been sacrificed and the bond had been broken with her superiors, the bond between her and the spirit of the medal, her nation, her relationship with her family and her faith, remained intact. Grant not only had understood but also had said he felt the same way, though when faith and duty to country conflicted, it caused a lot of internal challenges. That he’d shared that revelation made another chink in the armor around her heart. “He seems honorable—as if he’s trying so hard to do the right thing all around. I know it can’t be easy, yet...” She sighed. “I feel like a horrible person for having doubts and as if anyone with sense should have doubts... This wouldn’t be nearly so hard if I didn’t...but I do.” She let Mrs. Renault see the misery in her eyes. “I...care about him.”

      Sympathy reflected in Mrs. Renault’s eyes. “I can see that you do.”

      In a cold sweat, Madison met Mrs. Renault’s gaze. “I think he genuinely cares about me, too.” It cost her a lot to admit that out loud.

      “Uh-huh.” Mrs. Renault put her pen down atop her pad on a little table beside her chair. “Madison, are you falling in love with Grant?”

      “Oh, I hope not.” She nearly wilted and a lump formed in her throat.

      “Why? Do you know?”

      “I’m afraid I do.” Trusting her heart had gotten her captured and taken prisoner, had changed the entire course of her life. “My heart can’t be trusted.” Madison walked over to the wall and pressed a button on the back of a landscape painting of the cove done by her friend Maggie Mason. It was the view from the club’s gazebo, less