“Regardless of what my agents may believe, I do care for your long-term welfare.” Nigel picked up the stack of papers on his desk and straightened their edges with a hard smack against the surface. “Your notice enlarges a hole in my department. However, it’s a wise agent who knows when to turn in his gun. I daresay you’ve a legitimate reason. Any idea what you’ll do with yourself?”

“I’ve considered law enforcement,” Harry said, then elaborated. “Investigative work.”

“The very thing I recommended to Agent Taylor yesterday when she handed in her notice.”

Harry’s blood turned to ice. Elise had resigned? MI6 still owed her medical leave.

“Have you considered transferring to MI5? I’d be happy to pull a few strings,” Nigel said.

Harry shifted his foot the least bit. He had never considered a transfer.

“MI5 has several openings in their Glasgow office.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to Nigel’s, but his boss’s steady gaze gave nothing away. “That sounds intriguing. Perhaps I’ll let you.” Harry would tap dance on Nigel’s desk if he could snag that job.

When Nigel had assigned Elise as his trainer, Harry had confessed to their previous relationship, but Nigel had already known. The man was nothing but thorough in his background checks.

“I believe there’s a redhead up that direction who could definitely use some company.”

Harry cocked his head. “She’s avoiding me at present.”

“The two of you are highly intelligent individuals, but you’re both missing a few buttons on your remote control when it comes to long-term relationships.”

Harry’s chest swelled. Nice way to slam a man who had just brought down a traitorous arms dealer and one of Interpol’s most-wanted criminals.

“Relax, Benson. Love makes fools of us all.”

Harry raised a brow.

“Even me.” Nigel’s mouth twisted. Something flashed in his eyes and was gone, his expression implacable once more. “I’ll make some calls this afternoon. Answer your mobile. The number’s restricted.”

Harry gave him a curt nod. “Thank you, sir. It’s been a pleasure serving with MI6.” With some reluctance, Harry laid his leather case with his SIS credentials, sat phone, and handgun on Nigel’s desk.

“Is Agent Taylor still around?”

“Lady Elise cleared out her office last evening.”

Lady Elise? Nigel never called Elise that. She must have resumed her former identity.

“She’s accepted a position with CPNI. They’re setting a SCIF up inside her home. You know her place?”

“No.” He had never visited Elise’s personal estate.

“It’s just north of Glasgow.” A small smile tugged at the corners of Nigel’s mouth. He rose to his feet. Reaching past Harry, he lifted a familiar leather jacket off the coat rack.

“Lady Elise left this behind. I rather think she’ll need it, don’t you?”