Out of the Shadows (Tangled Ivy #3) (16 page)

Everyone stood as my foot stepped into the sand, distracting me for a moment. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and glanced down, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Devon for long, my gaze inexorably drawn back to his.

The way he was looking at me made me want to memorize it, to capture it forever in a mental photograph so I could relive it. As though he simultaneously wanted to strip the dress off me and worship the ground I walked on. I’d never seen him awestruck, but that’s exactly how he looked. It made me smile, happiness bubbling up inside me. I’d never felt like this before, anticipation and so much joy, it was an amazing feeling that I never wanted to end.

I barely realized where I was as I reached the end of the aisle, my focus had been so much on Devon. But now I was finally there, in front of him.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said softly, just for my ears. He took my hand in his. The man was still singing, the lyrics drifting over us as the guests resumed their seats.

“You’re gorgeous, too,” I said. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, darling.”

His smile was the sweetest I’d ever seen as we stood there and the music drifted into silence.

The man officiating spoke for a brief time, but his speech was short and to the point, and before long, I was reciting vows in a voice that shook slightly with emotion. Devon’s was strong and sure.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

I turned to Devon, the weight of the wedding band he’d placed on my finger new to me. He stepped closer and used both hands to cup my face before he kissed me.

I lost myself in the feel of him—his lips against mine, the press of his palms holding my jaw, the feel of his body so close. Then the kiss was over and he rested his forehead against mine.

“You’re a dream come true, sweet Ivy.”

I choked up and couldn’t reply, could only look up at him and hope he saw in my eyes everything I was feeling. I was overwhelmed with emotion.

Then everyone was applauding and it broke the moment. Devon put his arm around me and turned us to face the small crowd. Everyone had smiles on their faces, and I heard the popping of champagne corks as the white-jacketed waiters began filling flutes and passing then around.

“To us, my darling,” Devon said, clinking his glass against mine.

The bubbles tickled my nose as I drank, the liquid cool against my tongue.

Devon took my hand and led me to where a photographer stood waiting. I hadn’t even noticed him taking pictures, but I guessed that was part of the package. We posed for so many pictures, it was dark and they’d lit tiki torches by the time dinner was served.

Many of the guests came by to congratulate us . . . and introduce themselves. I’d thought it might be awkward, but everyone was so nice and didn’t seem to be surprised that we wouldn’t have a lot of guests at what they kept calling a “destination wedding.”

Devon had ordered surf and turf for dinner, and I didn’t want to think of the cost as the champagne flowed. I ate, but was paying too much attention to Devon to really care much about the food. He seemed to feel the same. His arm was slung over the back of my chair, resting on my shoulders, as he kept whispering in my ear and pressing light kisses to my neck. His fingers lightly brushed the back of my neck.

“Let’s take a walk,” he said, drawing me to my feet. We left everyone else behind as he took my hand and led me down the beach. The moon was high in the sky, its pale light illuminating our path.

After a little ways, the noise of the party faded away and Devon pulled me into his arms. “Was your wedding day everything you hoped it’d be?” he asked.

“You mean
our
wedding day,” I said, sliding my arms around his waist. “It was beautiful. But it was the man I married that made it everything I’d hoped it’d be. Not the setting.”

His eyes searched mine, and it felt like he was more open and vulnerable at this moment than I’d ever seen him.

“You mean everything to me,” he said. “I want you to know that. No matter what happens.”

That dimmed my mood. “What do you mean?” I asked. “What’s going to happen?” I’d survived the virus and sickness. What else was going to work against us?

“You know I still need to go to London and finish this mission,” he said gently. “That hasn’t changed.”

My stomach clenched. “Let’s just run away,” I said, taking his hands tightly in mine. “We can leave, go somewhere Vega won’t find us . . .”

But Devon was already shaking his head. “I won’t do that. Not with you. We won’t spend our lives running and always looking over our shoulder. I have to finish this.” The ocean breeze stirred my hair and he brushed some stray tendrils back from my face. “And I want you to stay here.”

I stared at him. “What? What do you mean?”

“It will be dangerous. I can have Beau protect you while I’m gone.”

“What exactly did those vows mean to you, Devon? For better, for worse, and all that? Were they just words? Because I don’t want to stay behind and wait to hear that my husband didn’t make it. You don’t have to take me everywhere with you, but don’t leave me on another continent, for goodness sake.”

He studied me, brushing my hair back again, his fingers caressing my ear and jaw. His brow was furrowed and I held my breath. I’d gone with him before on his missions. I didn’t want to be left behind. Not now. Not when we were supposed to be in this together.

“All right,” he said at last. “But I will leave you somewhere safe over there, and you mustn’t argue.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

He pulled me close and pressed his lips to my forehead. I nestled in his arms, inhaling deeply of his cologne mixed with the scent of the ocean.

“I saw a hammock back there, I believe,” he said. “Care to join me?”

“I’ll go wherever you lead.”

Getting into the hammock was easier said than done, and I was laughing so hard by the time we both got settled, my stomach hurt. It had nearly dumped Devon on the ground, and then when I’d climbed in and he’d followed, it nearly sent both of us tumbling. He was laughing, too, as we both cautiously maneuvered until we were in each other’s arms.

“The stars are out,” I said, looking up at the night sky.

“They wouldn’t dare not shine brightly, on tonight of all nights,” he said. “I’d have to lodge a formal complaint.”

“With who?” I asked, smiling at his playfulness.

“With God, of course.” He snorted, as though it were obvious. “I would have several issues to take up with him, actually, but we’d start with the stars.”

“Like what issues?” I asked, curious.

Devon got quiet, his hand tightening on my shoulder. I waited, wondering why he’d grown thoughtful.

“I’d like to know how someone as good as you had something so awful happen to you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t view myself as particularly good, at least not any better than the next person. As for the “something awful,” Devon had been through as much if not more than me. He wasn’t the only one who had a few issues to take up with The Almighty.

“Did you ever think you’d be married again?” I asked.

“Never. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to meet someone again, much less fall in love enough to risk it.”

“Me, neither.”

Devon glanced down at me, frowning. “How could you possibly believe you wouldn’t be married?”

I shrugged. “I just never thought I’d find anyone who’d be able to help me overcome my past.” I smiled at him. “Then I met you.”

“Not the whirlwind romance of every girl’s fantasies, though, was I?” His tone was wry and tinged with regret.

“It wasn’t a usual type of romance, but I’d like to think I’m not a usual kind of girl,” I said.

“In that, you are correct.”

We stayed there in companionable silence for a while, gazing up at the night sky and listening to the sound of the ocean. At last, Devon said, “Shall we check on our party, darling?”

“Sure.” It was our wedding, after all. We should probably go see the guests . . . whom we didn’t know from Adam.

It took some maneuvering, but we managed to escape the hammock without mishap, and I arranged my dress and hair. Devon had undone his bowtie and the top couple of buttons of his tuxedo shirt. He looked like he could step into a men’s fashion magazine, and just the small amount of exposed skin at his throat was enough to draw my eye and send my pulse skittering.

The guests were enjoying the music, dancing, and champagne without us, half the party inside the small but resplendent ballroom complete with chandelier. The other half were still outside amongst the burning tiki torches.

Devon snagged a couple of champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed me one.

“Is it my turn to dance with the bride?”

I squealed in surprised delight to see Beau striding toward us. He gave me a tight hug.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “How did you know?”

“I told him we’d arrived,” Devon said with a sigh. “Though I’d hoped he’d at least give us the night.” The last part sounded like a reprimand.

“Hey man, I totally would’ve, but we’ve got intel on Vega and a source we need you to verify.”

“What kind of source?”

“A former Shadow agent. Popped back up on the grid unexpectedly, so we grabbed them.”

Devon’s eyes narrowed. “Where are they now?”

“We have them at a secure facility, not far from here. But I hate to wait. MI6 is itching to get their hands on her and we can delay them for only so long.”

Wait a second . . . her? Had Beau said it was a woman?

“Then let’s go,” Devon said. Tipping up his champagne flute, he drained it.

“Let me go change first,” I said. I wasn’t saying that
every
dress I wore with Devon got ruined, I just wanted to be cautious.

“There’s no sense in you going,” he said. “You can stay here.”

I gave him a look. “It’s the CIA. How dangerous could it be? Plus, it’s my wedding night and I’d prefer not to spend it alone.”

“Woman’s got a point,” Beau said, and Devon fixed him with a glare.

“Fine.” Devon’s response was curt, but I didn’t care. I was going.

Fifteen minutes later, I’d changed into dark denim shorts and a thin, ivory lace tank with spaghetti straps. Not exactly what I thought I’d be wearing on my wedding night, but hey, at least it was lace.

Beau was waiting out front of the hotel inside a car. Devon opened the door and I slid in the backseat. He got in the front with Beau. I leaned up between them, bracing my arms on the seats.

“So who is this former agent?” I asked. “And I thought no one left the Shadow?” I vividly remembered Vega having Clive murdered right in front of me, just to prove that very point.

“Her name is Alexa,” Devon answered. “She’s the only female agent the Shadow’s ever recruited.”

“And she’s lethal,” Beau piped in. “No one who’s ever taken a contract to terminate her has ever returned. After the sixth one turned up floating facedown in the Seine, minus the rest of his body, Vega couldn’t find anyone else who’d take the job.”

“That’s not precisely true,” Devon said.

I looked at him. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

He looked slightly abashed. “I was intrigued by the challenge,” he said with a shrug. “And at the time, thought she was a danger to the Shadow and Vega. I had no qualms about terminating her.”

“So what happened?” I asked. “Because obviously you both are still alive.”

“I caught up to her in a back-alley watering hole in Singapore,” he said. “She knew I was coming, of course, was waiting for me. Just not in the manner I expected.”

“Do tell.” A female spy? I was both jealous and intrigued.

“She was at the bar, drinking,” Devon said. “And had been there for a while. I sat down beside her. I had her bang to rights anyway. She wasn’t getting away. But as a former agent, I thought she deserved the respect of my introducing myself.”

“So what happened?” Both Beau and I were caught up in the tale, as he was hanging on every word, too.

“She knew who I was. Said she knew Vega would send me at some point, and that she’d been waiting for me.”

“Waiting for you . . . but why?” I asked.

“Yes, intriguing, is it not? I ordered a drink and asked her. That’s when she told me that Vega was hiding more than I knew, that she was manipulating me, and that if I didn’t get out, I’d regret it. ‘She’ll never let you go, Devon,’ she said. I thought she was being overly dramatic, of course. Now, in hindsight, I realize she was quite serious. Though how she determined this, I never found out.”

“Why?”

“Oh, she had staged a backup fracas. It broke out shortly after I sat down and she managed to lose me in the chaos. The last thing she said to me was that she pitied me too much to kill me. But to tell Vega that if she ever saw me again, I wouldn’t be allowed to return.”

“And then what?”

“I related to Vega what had happened,” Devon said. “To my surprise, she neglected to pursue Alexa. I thought it odd at the time, but chalked it up to her deciding to give Alexa a chance to repent and come back into the fold.”

“But she never did,” I said.

“No, she didn’t.”

I mulled all this over as we drove, picturing it inside my head. Devon, outwitted by this woman. And it seemed she knew more about Vega and Devon than she’d said outright.

I was pulled from my reverie by Beau parking the car. I glanced around, confused. We were in the heart of Duvall Street, party central for Key West, and nighttime revelers swarmed the sidewalks.

“This is where you put her?” I asked as we got out of the car.

Beau flashed a grin. “Easiest place to hide something is right out in the open.”

Bemused, I followed him and Devon as we walked about a block, past bars and vendors hawking tourist trinkets made in China. My attention was caught by a beautiful two-story white home that looked like it had been converted into a bar. It was obviously old, with vines and heavy trees draping the front and side. But Beau didn’t lead us inside, instead going down another block and into a little side alley.