NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be
aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold
and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the
publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events
portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously.
the spy who left me
Copyright © 2011 by by Gina Robinson.
Excerpt from Diamonds Aren’t Forever copyright © 2011 by Gina Robinson.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York,
ISBN: 978- 0-312-54239-9
Printed in the United States of America
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / November 2011
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth
Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
here are two things a girl would really rather not
experience on her Hawaiian vacation—the monthly
curse and a run-in with her soon-to-be ex. For the first
time since puberty, Treflee Miller had managed to dodge
the first. She was staring at all six-foot-two, well-muscled,
lying, spying, ran-out-on-her inches of the second as he
hefted her cousin Carrie’s bags up the steps of the Big
Auau Sugar Plantation’s lanai.
He’d bleached his brown hair to a sun-streaked blond
and grown a goatee, but it was him. The corner of his
mouth curled into that sexy half grin of his and his eyes
danced with flirtation as he stared at Carrie, not seeing
Treflee flushed, feeling an unexpected jolt of jealousy.
Whether she wanted him or not, he was still her man. Her
mouth fell open into what was surely an unflattering gape.
What was he doing here on her vacation? Shouldn’t he be
playing spy boy, not bellhop, on something other than U.S.
Damn! She didn’t have the divorce papers on her. Technically, he wasn’t legally her ex-husband. Yet. He’d run
off on another top-secret mission without signing the final
paperwork. If only she had them with her, she’d make
short work of her still-married status.
She snapped her mouth shut and gave him her hardcore “I’m so angry I could kill you” glare. He should
have known it well by now. She’d aimed it at him with
regularity this past year. When he was around, that is.
But he clearly hadn’t noticed her yet as he flirted with
In the distance, past the stately trees of the plantation
and waving fields of sugarcane, the Pacific Ocean sparkled behind him. The scent of plumeria and ginger wafted
toward Treflee, tinged with a hint of his all too familiar,
and totally hot, cologne. The man knew how to scent himself, that’s for sure. It was commitment and the thought of
family life he had trouble with.
As his gaze lifted from Carrie to Treflee, his eyes went
from dancing to clinically cold.
He cut her off. “Aloha! Ty Smith. General-purpose
vacation instructor and island guide.” He sounded deceptively friendly and charming.
Yeah, he could really put it on. But as he extended his
hand and leaned toward her, he flashed her a hard-edged
“you blow my cover and there will be hell to pay, nearly
ex-wife or not” look. His threatening look was much
more convincing than hers.
She backed off, but not before she mouthed the word
“bastard” for his eyes only.
“Treflee Miller,” she said, voice dripping with artificial
sweetness. “Vacationer.” And hacked-off wife, she could
have added, but it wasn’t totally necessary. She thought
he pretty much knew how she felt.
“E komo mai! Welcome to Hawaii. And your week of
fun and adventure.” Ty’s voice gave away nothing of his
displeasure and discomfort at seeing her. His ability to
the spy who left me
hide his emotions made him a fantastic spy. And a miserable husband.
Treflee didn’t want an adventure. She loathed adventure.
She longed for peace and quiet, sunbathing and solitary
beach walks at sunrise and sunset. Maybe the occasional
tropical drink featuring a heavy dose of pineapple juice
It had been Carrie’s sadistic idea to drag her beleaguered bridal party to Maui after she dumped her fiancé,
Kane, a week before the wedding for cheating on her.
Carrie had planned a Hawaiian wedding and honeymoon
and she was going to get them. Well, a Hawaiian vacation
anyway, with her bridesmaids in tow. Why would the girls
complain? They’d already paid for their nonrefundable
airfare. She was simply making sure Treflee and company
got to benefit from it.
Carrie was not your typical weepy, depressed ex-bride.
A lady cop, she had a take-no-prisoners personality. If
she wanted to go to Hawaii with her nearest and dearest,
they were going with her. End of story.
So she had salvaged what she could of her wedding budget, sweet-talked the hotel she’d reserved for her wedding
into letting her bridal party stay sans wedding, and booked
a vacation package for all of them. And here they were,
dancing supportive attendance to her as if she were still the
happy bride and they were still the dutiful bridesmaids.
Beside Treflee, Carrie’s curvy, amply endowed best
friend, Laci, whispered in her ear, “He’s hot. This is going
to be fun.”
Yeah, it’s going to be fun all right. If Treflee could
keep from murdering Ty. She shrugged noncommittally.
“You don’t like?” Laci asked, nodding toward him,
“Not my type.” Treflee could lie pretty well, too, when
she wanted to.
There were six in their party, with enough baggage for
a dozen. And Treflee wasn’t thinking strictly of luggage.
If Ty was planning on carrying it all in for them, they were
in for a wait.
Treflee grabbed her bag, not out of any charity toward
him, but because she was wilting in the afternoon sun.
The plantation door opened and a heavy, middle-aged
Hawaiian woman dressed in a muumuu stepped out, followed by a broad-shouldered blond guy. The woman spread
her arms in an all-encompassing gesture of welcome.
“Aloha auina la!” She nodded toward the blond guy and
he started grabbing bags.
“Meet Greg, my fellow instructor, and Tita,” Ty said.
“She’s the big wahine around here.”
Tita’s rich laugh shook her body and brought a smile to
Treflee’s face. “Who you calling big, skinny boy?”
“I meant that in the most honorable way, as in you’re
the boss lady.” He gave her a deferential nod of his head,
but his grin said he was half teasing.
“You mean kahuna, haole. I’m the big kahuna and
don’t you forget it.”
With a smile and a flip of her hand, she dismissed his
lack of respect. “Come, let’s get you all settled in and refreshed before your night on the town.”
Ty handed Carrie’s bag to the blond guy and grabbed
Treflee’s. “We need to talk,” he whispered in her ear.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “I’ll have my
lawyer e-mail or fax you the papers here. We’ll never have
to talk again.”
He gave her the look again. “No e-mailing. No faxing.
We’ll talk.” He turned to Tita, and nodded toward Treflee.
the spy who left me
“Excellent.” He hauled Treflee’s bag into the building,
up the beautiful, coiling wooden stairs, and down a hallway with her trailing after him, trying to take in the sights
so she didn’t explode with anger. She only maintained control out of a sense of patriotism. What if blowing Ty’s cover
meant vital U.S. secrets got out, security was breached, and
we had another Pearl Harbor on our hands? It sounded
melodramatic. But you never knew with Ty. You never
He walked so fast, they lost the rest of the girls.
Finally, he came to an abrupt stop in front of a red
door in the middle of the mellow, sea-foam-green hall.
He pulled a universal key from his pocket, let them into
the room, and pulled the door closed behind them.
Being led into a bedroom by Ty used to be a totally
exhilarating experience. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit
to feeling a thrill of the old excitement. She brushed it off,
relegating it to a somatic response.
The bedroom was truly spectacular. Just what she would
have picked for herself. Large comfy bed covered with tasseled pillows and a linen comforter. Bamboo floors with
deep cream throw rugs. A ceiling fan floated lazily above it
all. At the far end, a door stood open onto a balcony that
faced the ocean. The white curtains surrounding it fluttered in the ocean breeze. Paradise.
Ty broke the spell by speaking. “What are you doing
Ty was his real first name. He hadn’t been terribly creative in his choice of cover. Maybe he was tired of answering to so many different names.
“Why the surprise?” She snorted. “Any spy worth their
salt would have looked at the guest log and seen my name.”
“Tita keeps the guest list. I barely glanced at it.” He
paused, frowning, looking as if he couldn’t have missed
something as obvious as her name, even at a glance. Suddenly, he cursed beneath his breath. “Wait a minute—
you’re Betty Miller?”
“What? Betty! Are you crazy?” She hated that nickname
and he knew it. Her given name was Elizabeth. Everyone
called her Treflee, a childhood mutation of trying to call
herself Bethy and being unable to make the “th” sound.
Beffly had somehow morphed into Treflee and stuck. Her
mother had wanted to call her Betty. No way.
“You’re Betty according to the list.” Ty shook his head,
looking at her suspiciously. As if she’d tried to pull one
over on him.
“That Carrie and her warped sense of humor. I’m going to strangle her.” Only the family and Ty ever called
her Betty, and only when they wanted to pull her chain.
Treflee had another beef with him. “Speaking of my
cousin Carrie, you were flirting with her!”
“Flirting with the ladies is part of my cover—” He
stopped short as if registering what she’d just said. “Your
“Yeah, duh. You’d know that if you were ever around
long enough to attend a family function or two.” Spite
was not an easy thing to keep out of her voice.
He cocked a brow. “She wasn’t at our wedding.”
The man had a photographic memory. “She was serving in Iraq.”
“You never showed her a wedding picture? She didn’t
seem to recognize me.”
Treflee shrugged. “I’m sure she saw one a long time ago.
I haven’t been in the mood to flash one around lately.” Did
she sound put out? She didn’t think she sounded sweet.
“You’re obviously incognito now. I doubt she’ll make the
connection. The bleached-blond look is good on you.”
He ignored her jibe. “I don’t recognize the others.”
“I just met the others. They’re all Carrie’s friends, fel-
the spy who left me
low cops and former military. Except for Carla. She’s a
nurse. You’d better watch yourself.” Treflee couldn’t help
smiling. “Cops have a habit of sniffing out the truth.”
Carrie and Treflee lived states apart. They weren’t actually that close. Mostly it was blood and the devoted relationship between their mothers that bound them. Carrie
had been under duress to make her part of the bridal party.
When the whole thing fell through, she couldn’t very well
exclude her from the vacation, even though Treflee had
tried to wiggle out of it.
She put her hands on her hips as they stared each other
down. “I checked the weather every day for the past six
When he was away on a mission, they communicated
by posting seemingly innocuous comments on their hometown’s local weather blog. Their comments were actually
coded messages to each other.
“You always check the weather,” he said.
He was probably being deliberately obtuse just to frustrate her. “You know what I mean.”
“What would I have said, Tref? Graupel?”
Graupel? That one wasn’t in their lexicon. Graupel
was hail snow. Hail snow? Then it hit her—hell no!
“Very funny, Ty. Hail hath no fury.”
She crossed her arms. “You could have been dead for
all I knew.”
“And lying in a ditch,” he added. “If I was dead, Emmett would have shown up at your door with a folded
American flag and your widow’s benefits.”
Okay, he has me there. As chief spy, Emmett Nelson
was the Agency’s harbinger of death.
Ty ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “How can
I get you to go home?”
“Sign the divorce papers.”
“You don’t have them on you.”
“I can get them. If you insist on the no e-mailing, no
faxing rule, I’ll call my lawyer and have him overnight
He snorted in disbelief. “E-mailing, faxing, overnighting, texting, posting them to a Web site, skywriting, or
carrier pigeoning, I can’t take the chance. I’m on an important mission. I can’t have anything around anywhere
with my real identity, anything that will blow my cover.”
She lifted her chin. “You have me.”
He shook his head and crossed his arms. “Do you have
a picture of me in your wallet?”
“Egocentric bastard,” she said. “I shredded every last
picture I had of you months ago.”
“On your cell phone?” He grabbed her purse from the
bed where she’d dropped it. Before she could stop him, he
had the phone and her camera out. He dropped them in
Shoot! There might be a picture or two of him still on
the phone. Call her a sentimental fool.
“I’ll return these when I’ve checked them out.” He
pulled her wallet out and leafed through as she stood
watching him, fury making her almost speechless. Only a
few sputters managed to escape her lips.
Finally, he dropped the wallet back into the purse and
the purse back on the bed. “Clear. Now, go home before
anyone gets hurt.” His eyes twinkled wickedly. He was
“I can’t. Ex-bridezilla out there will hunt me down and
kill me.” She explained about Carrie. Besides, she wasn’t
leaving without her divorce. When she finished her story,
she shrugged. “So, sorry, but I’m staying. Want to fill me
in on the mission?”
“If I told you that—”
She waved her hand at him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’d
the spy who left me
have to kill me. That’s what all the spies say. You really
should come up with something more original. You know
it’s all this secrecy that killed our relationship?”
He smiled. Her heart thawed just a tiny bit. She’d always
loved his smile and the way he got her sense of humor.
“You won’t tell me?”
“What do you think?”
What she really thought was that it was a crying shame
they hadn’t worked out. She always liked sparring with
him. Instead, she said, “As long as I’m here, I may as well
enjoy myself. I’ve never seen you at work before. This
could be fun. Take-your-nearly-ex-wife-to-work day. I
He gave her a warning look. “Don’t say a word. Nothing slips, got it?”
She held up her hands to show him she was no threat,
no threat at all. “Hey, silence is my middle name.”
He arched a brow and patted his pocket. “I’ll return
these later.” He turned and walked to the door, pausing
before he left to speak over his shoulder. “I’ll be watching
“Just like old times,” she said and winked, trying to get
He shook his head and left.
Treflee plunked down on the bed and put her head in
her hands, taking a deep breath. She’d never imagined
seeing Ty in his element would shake her up so much or
that witnessing him flirt with other women could still make
her jealous. But he’d definitely thrown her equilibrium
off. Hadn’t he always? Hadn’t that been part of the excitement and the problem?
When she finally calmed down, she got up, opened her
suitcase, and pulled her travel jewelry pouch out. She
reached into it and pulled out the dangly charm bracelet
Ty had given her when they were dating. He brought her
back a charm from every mission. When he originally
gave the bracelet to her, it had a single charm on it—a
tiny silver heart locket. Now it was loaded with charms.
As she opened the locket and stared at the miniscule
picture of Ty, her eyes watered and she couldn’t help sniffing. What type of a charm would Ty have brought her back
from this Hawaiian mission? A silver palm tree? A gold
Maui sandal? A hibiscus flower? Or a white pearl?
Deep down Ty was a romantic and had a wicked sense
of humor. The pearl was her birthstone, and a white one
represents honesty and faith. Yeah, he would have gotten
a big kick out of the dual meaning. As if he were ever
She told herself she only brought the bracelet with her
so she could see how well the big, honking black pearl she
planned to buy for herself would look on it. But in all honesty, sentimental fool that she was, she never left home
You aren’t as smart as you think, spy boy, she thought.
She had a bit of leverage after all.
Ty strolled back to his room, feeling almost schizophrenic
as he forced himself to stay in character— calm, lazy, nonchalant, not a care in the world besides catching the next
wave or downing a mai tai. On Hawaiian time. Inside, he
seethed. He rarely felt this convoluted, even when facing
the wrong side of a gun barrel unarmed. Which had happened a time or two.
Damn Treflee for showing up like this.
He hadn’t even checked the guest list properly before
she’d arrived. He’d stupidly assumed NCS had cleared
everyone on it.
THE SPY WHO LEFT ME
BUY THE BOOK NOW
Barnes & Noble
LEARN MORE ABOUT THE BOOK