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in any danger whatsoever, Luke would have never allowed me to go alone. You know that.”
    Alastair grunted and looked away. Honestly, he agreed with her, but the whole thing made him inexplicably angry.
    “Actually, I somewhat liked her.”
    He scowled. “You have got to be joking! Are you mad?”
    “Have a care, Wolfred. That’s my wife you’re speaking to.” Luke wore an expression that promised an altercation if Alastair’s familiarity continued. He’d been so accustomed to speaking however he wanted to Arden when Luke was gone that he’d forgotten she wasn’t just another one of his cronies.
    When had he stopped thinking of her as the woman he wanted to live out the rest of his days with, and started thinking of her as simply an old and dear friend?
    “My apologies to you both,” he said, sincere though still annoyed. Brooks was a master at subterfuge, and he had no doubt that she could charm the wings off a fly if she set her mind to it. She was the sort of woman entirely too accustomed to having everything her way and everyone tripping over themselves to please her—especially men.
    She was duplicitous, a trait he personally abhorred, despite being something of an expert in it himself.
    “Your concern does you credit,” Arden told him with a gentle smile, “but I am fine. She did not hurt me in any way. In fact, she made me feel rather better about the situation.”
    “Rather better?” Incredulity had his voice an octave higher at the end of the remark. “How so?”
    Arden cast a glance Kast atat her husband, who gazed back at her. Why did they insist on sharing these intimate moments in his presence? It was bloody uncomfortable and time-consuming. “She said some things that make me understand what Luke went through while under Company control.”
    Ah. She was trying to come to terms with her husband’s unfaithfulness. Yes, it had to be deuced uncomfortable to come face-to-face with “the other woman,” especially when that woman looked like Claire Brooks. Even with her hair mussed and dirty, and pain clouding her mossy green eyes, she was an incredible-looking woman, the sort that could make a man’s heart stop. But there was a hardness to her, a certain strength that would make her intimidating to other women—hell, to many men!
    Alastair did not find her intimidating, but he would think twice before turning his back on her.
    Despite her being the embodiment of almost everything he disdained, she had something intriguing about her—something challenging. He was almost looking forward to working with her.
    What the hell was wrong with him? The woman was poison, no way around it, and already he was curious about her. Had he not learned any lesson from almost dying? Had his life not had enough two-faced people mucking about in it?
    “You don’t think this is a trap?” Alastair turned to Luke, who could barely look away from his wife. “Could Brooks turn on me once we find the Doctor or Howard?”
    “Not unless she’s a completely different woman than the one I used to know. She’s turned on
them
, my friend. There’s no way she’d do this otherwise. I’ve seen her withstand torture that would have broken many men.”
    Arden frowned. “Were you tortured as well?”
    Luke shifted in his chair. “Yes.”
    “By whom?”
    Oh hell,
Alastair thought. “Wardens.” He had a fairly decent idea of what that torture entailed, having doled it out on a few Company agents himself. If she hadn’t cracked under that, then either she had indeed turned her back on the agency as she had claimed, or she was playing them all.
    His friend nodded. “I believe so.” A humorless smile curved his lips. “So you see why I don’t think the Company and the W.O.R. are all that dissimilar. Both want power and will stop at nothing to defend their ideals.”
    “Yes,” Alastair replied. “I can see it.” He also saw the pain in Arden’s expression as she regarded her husband. This was quickly about to