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Undercover Lovers
Julie Kenner
SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO GET INTO BED WITH THE ENEMY…That's exactly what FBI agent Tori Lowell is afraid of. Especially after she learns that her first undercover assignment will involve going into a sex resort, posing as the wife of her longtime nemesis–and nightly fantasy–gorgeous Carter Sinclair. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that, years ago, she'd almost made it into Carter's bed. And she's afraid that once she gets there, she won't be able to leave.…After years of undercover work, all Carter Sinclair wants is a little peace. But when his final assignment pairs him with Tori, he decides to go for one last fling, too! The sexy brunette has had him tied up in knots since they were both cadets. And now, given their new "marital" status, Carter can enjoy his "husbandly" rights until Tori's out of his system, once and for all. Little does he guess that this "marriage" was meant to last.…
“I’m not drunk,” Carter said. “Only bold.”
“Bold?” Tori swallowed, half afraid she was tempting fate by asking, and half afraid that she wasn’t.
“Bold enough to do this.” His arm slipped around her waist, and he pulled her close. The loofah ended up pressed tight between them, and he shifted against it, his chuckle soft against her ear. “Hang on to that, sweetheart. Maybe later we can find an interesting use for it.”
“I can think of a few,” she said. Tori heard her own voice, soft and sultry, and the sound pulled her back to reality. Closing her eyes, she backed away. “I—I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I want to, but I can’t.”
He pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Yes, babe, you can.” He dropped the shirt, now soaked, to the floor of the tub. “Sex camp, remember? Intimacy. Young lovers with an amazing sex life looking to spice it up.”
“I think I already proved that we can fake it just fine.”
He unbuttoned his shorts, then started to tug at the zipper. “Is that what you do? Fake it?”
She bit back a smile, determined not to give in. “I’ve faked it once or twice.”
The shorts came off, dropping into the tub with a wet splat. “Not with me you haven’t….”
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NIGHT MOVES
MAKING WAVES
UNDERCOVER LOVERS
Undercover Lovers
J. Kenner
www.spice-books.co.uk (http://www.spice-books.co.uk)
J. KENNER has always loved stories—reading them, watching them on television and on the silver screen, and making them up herself. She studied film before attending law school, but knew that her real vocation lay in writing the kind of books she loves to read. She lives in Texas with her husband, two daughters and several cats.
To Richard and Shelley. Congrats!
And thanks for “buying every one of them.”
Love you guys!
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u28b1c8e3-718e-5e56-89d5-b3d380d5d678)
Chapter 2 (#u152aa7df-2ea0-5eb5-b397-b80e105a3083)
Chapter 3 (#u50928bfe-8345-579e-bcd1-dc167b572898)
Chapter 4 (#u8f2c6320-54ca-56c6-a5d1-08721315cd81)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
1
CARTER SINCLAIR shifted in the leather chair and pushed his shoulder-length hair out of his face. Damn, but he longed for a haircut and a shower. For three harrowing years he’d been knee-deep in murderous, sleazebag scum, and he was nearing the end of his rope. Just hours ago, he’d been pulled off of his current undercover gig, and he could only hope the reason was the change of assignment he’d put in for.
Across from him, Assistant Director Evan Kincaid put down the phone, then flipped open a manila file folder on his desk. Carter recognized his personnel file. Hell, he’d seen it enough recently.
Kincaid peered at him over the rims of his half glasses, a portrait of the President and the FBI seal on the wall behind him. “I understand you’re looking for a new assignment.”
“Yes, sir. I’d like a permanent assignment to a field office. I’m hoping to go in as the special agent in charge.”
“Why?”
“It’s all there in my file, sir.”
Kincaid leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Humor me.”
Carter suppressed a snort. He’d been through a whole battery of psych exams, and still he had to prove himself. “I’m looking for a change in lifestyle, sir. Chasing drug dealers doesn’t hold the appeal it once did.”
“Understandable. You’ve been deep undercover for a long time.”
Carter sat up a little straighter as Kincaid continued to flip through his file. After four requests for a transfer, that wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. When he’d left the Waxahachie, Texas, police department to join the Bureau, he’d longed for the chance to hunt down the criminals that preyed on ordinary folks. He’d gotten the chance, and he’d helped put away more hardened criminals than he had fingers and toes to count.
But now Carter was just plain tired. Emotionally, physically. Hell, he was so tired his fingernails ached. He either needed a new assignment or a new job. But Carter loved the Bureau, and that’s why he’d spent the last two months trying to push through this request.
He cleared his throat, and Kincaid looked up from the folder. “Does that mean the Bureau’s going to facilitate my request?” Carter asked.
Kincaid pushed back from his desk. “That depends on you.”
“Sir?”
“Have you been following the news? Celebrity blackmail?”
Carter nodded, not sure where this was going. “I’ve heard a bit about it. Some big-shot Hollywood director. A Wall Street tycoon. And a Congressman, I think.”
In truth, he’d have to have been on Mars to have missed the news. Some scumbag was selling sexual secrets. Reputations were being ruined, deals destroyed, and key political players were suddenly bending to the will of unseen blackmailers.
“They’re just the tip of the iceberg,” Kincaid said. “The high-profile victims. The ones who are willing to go public instead of succumbing to the perp who’s trying to put the pressure on. And,” Kincaid continued, “that’s why the FBI’s getting involved.”
“A case?” Carter asked, sitting up even straighter.
Kincaid nodded, then grabbed the top folder off of his in box. He pulled out a thick report and rifled through the pages. “Our information suggests that there are quite a few more victims out there—ordinary folks with a lot to lose who haven’t contacted us or their local police yet.” Kincaid put the report in the folder and slid the whole thing across the desk toward Carter.
That made sense. Carter reached for the folder and skimmed the summary stapled to the full report. Some agent holed up in a cubicle somewhere had done an excellent job of tracking down loose ends. The author had discovered a link between all the known victims—sometime within the last two years, all the victims had visited a resort just north of Santa Barbara, California. A rather interesting resort, from the looks of it. Called the Kama Resort, the place was run by a sex therapist with a call-in radio show that Carter had heard once or twice.
“It’s a sex camp,” he said, setting the file on the desk.
“More or less, yes.” Kincaid reached for the folder and returned it to its proper stack. “According to the brochure, it caters to couples who are hoping to…” He broke off, looking slightly uncomfortable as his hand twisted in the air in search of the proper word. “…to improve their, uh, intimacy. ”
Amused, Carter kicked back, stretching his long legs out until the toes of his loafers grazed the polished wood. “Like I said, a sex camp.”
“Yes, well, there you have it.”
“Does the Bureau suspect the owner?”
“Interesting question. We checked him out, and he seems clean.” Kincaid leaned back in his chair. “But at this point we just don’t know. It could be him, a staff member, a frequent guest. Hell, there might be no connection to the resort at all. The background of the extortion victims could just be a coincidence.”
“So what does this have to do with me?” Carter asked.
“The FBI’s been asked to participate in a task force. We’re working with the sheriff’s department in Santa Barbara County along with the local police department. The task force is sending in a team to investigate the resort,” Kincaid said. “Like I said, it might be coincidence, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence myself.”
“And I’m on the task force.”
“Not only are you on the task force, agent, you’re heading it up and leading the undercover team. Unless you have something else planned.”
Carter swallowed a grimace. Hell, yes, he had something else planned. A nice desk job in one of the FBI’s many bureaus. Maybe even back home in Texas. The last thing he wanted was to jump from one undercover job to another. He wanted out of that grind, and if Kincaid wasn’t willing to cut him loose, then maybe it really was time to turn in his resignation.
“Sinclair?”
Carter sat up. “Sir, I’m afraid this isn’t an assignment I can accept. I’m not interested in—”
“Working undercover. I know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, maybe I can persuade you.”
“No, sir. I’m not—”
“If you do a good job, I can guarantee you a new assignment. A field office, if that’s what you want. Your pick of location.” He spread his hands wide. “Carte blanche. But only if…” He trailed off.
“I know, I know.”
“Well? Think you can handle one more undercover job? After all, it’s not like you’ll be up to your elbows in crack addicts. Considering your background, this will be more like a vacation.”
Carter wasn’t sure about that, but he knew enough to recognize when he was beat. He might not want to go undercover again, but if he aced this assignment, at least it would be the last time. Resigned, he exhaled. “Who’s on my team?”
“You and the author of the report. You’re both scheduled to fly into Burbank, pick up a rental car and your papers from the local field office and then drive up the coast to the resort.”
“That’s it? One person? I thought you said a team, not a partner.”
Kincaid leaned back again, his chair squeaking. “Like you said, it’s a sex camp. You’ll have task force support on the outside, but you and a female agent will go in alone. You and Agent Lowell will—”
“Lowell?” Carter leaned forward. Surely, he’d heard wrong. “Not Tori Lowell?”
Kincaid gave him that above-the-rim glance. “You know her?”
A complicated question. For Carter, Tori Lowell had always meant trouble—of both the good and bad kind. Carter decided to brush it off. “We went to the academy together.”
“Then you may or may not realize that she’s been desk jockeying since Quantico. And damn good at it, too. But she’s also been itching for an undercover assignment, and since she discovered this link, we’ve decided to grant her request.” Again, he aimed that assessing glance over his glasses. “If you know Lowell, then I’m sure you know her reputation.”
“Yes, sir,” Carter mumbled.
“Good. Because I’m trusting you to keep her in line. The woman’s a good agent, but she’s a loose cannon, and since this is her first time undercover, I don’t want her playing Rambo.”
Irritation welled in Carter’s gut. “So I’m babysitting?”
Kincaid shook his head. “No. You’re just leading your team. You do your job well, and we’ll have no problem pushing through your request for reassignment.”
Carter’s hands tightened on the armrests. Kincaid could call it what he wanted, but it sounded damn close to baby-sitting to him. Either that, or blackmail. Keep the overeager agent in line and get a new assignment; fail and get sent back to undercover hell.
Not exactly his dream job.
Kincaid leaned back, looking Carter straight in the eye. “I trust this isn’t a problem?”
For half a second, Carter considered telling Kincaid to find another sucker. Then common sense caught up to him. “No, sir.” This assignment was his ticket out of his current placement, and for that, he’d put up with a lot. Even Tori Lowell.
It was only when he’d stepped out of Kincaid’s office, the full brief clasped in his hand, that he realized the extent of what he’d agreed to—he and Tori posing as husband and wife at a sex camp. A sex camp.
Sighing, he headed down the hall toward the elevator. He needed to get out of the building before he did something stupid like walk into Kincaid’s office, throw the file on his desk and tell him to find some other agent to lead the team.
But no, there were a hundred reasons for him to take this assignment, and only one reason to walk away.
And surely that reason had changed over the last three years. Despite what Kincaid said, she couldn’t still be the same ultra-competitive, smart-mouthed, sexy-as-hell woman he’d sparred with at Quantico, could she?
As a man, Carter had been attracted to her from the first day they were assigned to the same class. Tori was brilliant and ambitious, and her academy achievements had pushed Carter. He owed his success at the academy to their pervasive competition.
But while she might have all the makings of a smart and intuitive agent, she’d also been a wild card, and if Kincaid was right, she still was. The daughter of a highly celebrated undercover agent, Tori had made no secret of the fact that she intended to follow in her father’s footsteps and that she’d do anything to get there.
Dating while at Quantico was discouraged by the powers that be, but not forbidden, and Carter had been entranced enough to go against protocol. Almost daily, Carter had asked Tori out for coffee or to grab a pizza and some beer at the Boardroom, the bar located above the cafeteria at Quantico. She’d repeatedly turned him down cold. Repeatedly, that is, until the week before graduation. When he’d asked her then, she’d accepted.
Carter blew out a breath, his body tightening as he remembered the way she’d looked that night. She’d worn a black dress and, though he’d seen her in jogging shorts, there was just something about a woman in stockings and heels. He’d taken her into Alexandria for dancing, and they’d worked up quite a sweat, each trying to go a little bit longer, a little bit harder, than the other. They’d cooled off afterward with vodka tonics. Not that Carter had really cooled off. Just the opposite, in fact. Simply being near Tori seemed to ignite his blood to near boiling.
Apparently Tori had heated up a bit, too. Because by the time they reached the dorms, neither one could keep their hands off the other. God, he’d been desperate for her, and he’d pinned her in the circle of his arms right under the stairway leading to her room.
She hadn’t protested, either. Her arms had slipped around his neck, and her lips…He sighed with the memory. Oh, the taste of her lips.
He’d moved closer, breaking the circle of his arms so he could touch her, stroke her body under that slinky, sexy dress. She’d moaned, her breath soft and hot against his ear. He remembered his head spinning, not only from the alcohol, but from the knowledge that this woman—this woman he’d been competing with during their entire tenure at Quantico—actually wanted him as much as he wanted her.
His mouth had explored hers, his hands stroking her silky soft shoulder, then down lower to trace the curve of her breast. She’d moaned, and the sound had acted on him with as much force as if she’d dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He’d pulled her closer, wanting more, wanting everything, and knowing they should go inside one of their rooms but unwilling to do anything that would take her out of his embrace.
She’d leaned back, and their eyes met. At first, her mouth had curved into a smile, but then she’d frowned. Her eyes had widened, and she’d jerked backward. “I have to go,” she said.
She might as well have slapped him. Carter had been too stunned to move. “What?” he asked. “What is it?”
With increasing urgency, she’d pressed against his arm. “I have to go.”
She broke free and ran down the hall, then up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the corridor. He turned, instinctively looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her odd behavior. Nobody. The halls were completely empty.
It was only after the echo died that he realized what must have happened. It had all been a ruse. Their final tests were coming up, and so far he’d managed to pull ahead of her in every area. The Bureau didn’t formally rank its graduates, but everyone still knew who had the top spot. Right then, it was Carter. But Tori wanted that spot. Wanted it bad. And, damn it, apparently she even wanted it enough to try a little seduction to throw him off his game. He didn’t know why she’d run. Maybe she’d chickened out. Or maybe that was her game plan all along—get him hot and then get out of there.
He sighed. A damn shame. For a moment there, he’d thought they’d actually connected. He should have known better. Tori was too competitive by half. If anyone ever connected with her, it would be a damn miracle. He’d only wished she had run out on him before he’d got a major hard-on. Because all he’d had to look forward to that evening was a long, cold shower.
At the elevator, Carter sighed as he pulled himself out of his memories. He’d been her nemesis back then, and knowing Tori, she still had it in for him. At the very least, Tori was going to be less than enthusiastic about partnering with the man who—at least in her mind—stole her number one ranking in firearms, physical training and the classroom portion of their academy training.
He stepped onto the elevator, his mind reeling. Not that he was still interested in Tori. He got enough excitement in his job. She might have once been roll-in-the-sheets material, but nowadays, Carter’s interest in women leaned toward the more stable variety.
Swallowing a snort, he shook his head at his foolishness. No matter how he felt about her now, the truth was, he’d spent his days and nights at Quantico with a permanent hard-on, courtesy of a woman who drove him completely nuts and who probably never wanted to see him again.
A woman who was now his partner. A woman he was supposed to keep out of trouble.
The elevator doors slid shut, and he pressed his forehead against the cool metal.
Damn. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
“EAGLE’S NEST, this is Redbird. I’m in place.” Special Agent Tori Lowell ducked behind the Dumpster in downtown Hogan’s Alley, ignoring the repulsive odor of rotting food and who knows what else and waited for Murphy’s reply to register in her earpiece. She didn’t have long to wait.
“Roger, Redbird.” A burst of static, then, “Hatchlings, the rest of you give me an update.”
“Bluebird here. In place. No action.”
“Sparrow. Same here.”
“Seagull. Someone’s coming. Hang tight.”
Tori monitored the conversation through her earpiece, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The area behind the Dumpster stank to high heaven, and she longed to get out and see what was going on. But her orders had been firm—on this routine training mission, she wasn’t to do anything but observe unless she was given a direct order.
She sighed, resting her forehead against the rusty metal. How the devil was she ever supposed to prove herself if her superiors never gave her the opportunity? Carter Sinclair had been working in the field since they left the academy. Apparently, his career hadn’t suffered from their little liaison that night at Quantico.
She tightened her hand around the barrel of her gun, struggling to control her temper. She was just as good an agent as Carter—maybe even better—and yet she’d been locked inside an office building. Her superiors told her it was because she was good at research, and her mentor in the Bureau—an overprotective family friend—backed up that assessment.
But Tori didn’t believe it. She was too good to be chained to a desk. Which meant the only explanation was Carter. She’d made a mistake and had agreed to go out with the super-sexy agent. And then, when the wine and the moonlight had gotten the better of them, she’d succumbed to heaven in his arms.
She sighed at the memory. Oh, God, it had been heaven. At least until they’d been seen. She’d never discovered who their witness was, but she’d seen him in the shadows, watching her and Carter. He must have reported them; there was no other explanation. Her little tryst with Carter was reported to the higher-ups, and Carter, being a guy, still landed the primo assignments. Tori, however, got stuck in FBI hell.
It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t fair at all.
Bang! Crack!
Shots fired. Tori pressed her back against the brick wall, one hand on a pile of empty paint cans for balance. Her whole body tingled as she fought the urge to leap out and see what was going on.
Stay put, stay put, stay put. She repeated the mantra in her head, hoping the order to engage would squawk in her earpiece. More than anything, she wanted to get off the research and analysis grind. Technically, she was a field agent, but it was a rare day when she actually got to go out in the field. No, one little mistake, and she’d been stuck pushing paper in Investigative Services Division. She was good at the research, good at the analysis, but, damn it, she hadn’t joined the FBI to sit at a desk.
Her father had been an amazing undercover operative. Legendary, even. True, he’d hardly ever been around, but that was only because his work had been so important. When he’d died, Tori and her mom had just about died, too. From that moment on, Tori had wanted to fill her dad’s shoes.
She hoped she had what it took, but she really didn’t know. Tori had always been good in the classroom, but the real world was untested and, frankly, that made her nervous as hell. She’d always been among the best, but what if she wasn’t any more? The thought was sobering. She needed to prove herself, to live up to her father’s standards. And she’d do whatever she had to.
But so much was working against her. She was a woman in a man’s world. True, there were more female agents in the Bureau than ever before, but that didn’t mean the women didn’t have to work harder to get to the same place.
Her every attempt to get an undercover assignment had been foiled, and she’d spent the duration of her FBI career with her butt in a chair and her eyes on a computer monitor. The work was interesting, no doubt about that, but it wasn’t the same as going undercover. So far, her efforts had hit a brick wall, and she was angry at herself for helping to put that wall in place. She’d been attracted to Carter from the day they’d met. And, considering the many times he’d asked her out, that attraction was reciprocated.
She’d given in against her better judgment, and she’d been paying the price for years.
Now, though, she had a real chance. Follow orders, do the job and—hopefully—get the transfer. She held her breath, waiting for the order to engage.
Unfortunately, her earpiece remained stubbornly silent.
The alleyway, however, wasn’t nearly as quiet. Pounding footsteps broke the stillness. Someone running. And a voice shouting for him to halt and put his hands up.
Closer…closer…
She could apprehend him. She was in position. She could do it. All she needed was the go-ahead.
But still nothing in her headphone. Damn.
“Eagle’s Nest, this is Redbird. I’ve got a bead on the perp. Do I have the go-ahead?”
A burst of static hit her ear. “Negative, Redbird.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, her body thrumming like a live wire from the pent-up energy.
Instinct and training told her to go ahead and do her job. Common sense told her to follow orders and sit tight.
The perp pulled closer, near enough that she could hear his breathing. Damn Murphy! There wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t get this guy.
She heard him right there on the other side of the Dumpster. Her hand closed around butt of her gun. Stay put, stay put.
In an instant, she changed her mind, reaching for one of the empty paint cans. Her field of vision was limited, but she pulled her arm back, and when he passed, she heaved, hitting him square between the shoulders and knocking him to the ground. “Hands behind your head,” she yelled as she pulled her gun, still staying behind the Dumpster.
On the ground, the perp groaned and locked his fingers at his neck. Mentally, Tori patted herself on the back. She’d got him. And she hadn’t disobeyed orders. Not technically, anyway.
Special Agent Travis Murphy, his hands shoved into the pockets of his FBI parka, lumbered toward them, then bent at the side of the perp. “You okay, son?” Considering Murphy wasn’t treating the guy as a hardened criminal, Tori assumed the training exercise was over.
The guy sat up, rubbing his back. “Fine, sir.”
Murphy nodded, then patted him on the shoulder. “Go get yourself checked out. She got you pretty hard.”
The perp—an agent Tori didn’t recognize—shot her a decidedly dirty look. “Yeah, she did.”
She shrugged, trying to look innocent and vindicated. Her eyes met Murphy’s. “I got the perp. Sir.”
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“No, sir. I stayed behind the Dumpster and I—”
“Damn it, Lowell, don’t split hairs with me. That’s not a game you want to be playing.”
She sucked in a breath, biting back her automatic retort about the whole point of training ops being to train agents to take action, not sit back like meek little bunnies. But she knew what his response would be—Hogan’s Alley was a fake town set up just for this kind of thing. The FBI had strict rules about the scenarios that went down there. Yada, yada, et cetera and so forth.
She pulled her thoughts to the present, where Murphy was still chewing her out.
“How the hell am I supposed to evaluate your fitness for the field if you can’t even follow a simple instruction? Not to mention that you probably dislocated O’Henry’s shoulder.” He sighed, his ruddy face coloring even more than usual in the summer heat.
Tori licked her lips, the truth fighting with her pride. On the pride side, she knew—she just knew—she’d done the right thing, made the right call. If she hadn’t thrown that can, the perp would have gotten away. The robbery would have gone down, and the FBI would have no one in custody.
On the truth side, Tori knew she’d disobeyed a direct order. In her mind, though, so long as none of the good guys got hurt, following orders wasn’t anywhere near as important as catching the bad guys. Too bad no one had asked for her opinion.
“I’m sorry, sir. It was an instinct, sir.”
“Bullshit. Quit trying to be your father, Lowell.” He bent his head to look at her over the rim of his glasses. “This is going in your file. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any choice.”
Tori’s heart sank even as her ire bloomed. She managed to catch his sleeve before he turned away. “Travis!”
The frown he shot her was anything but amused.
“I mean, Agent Murphy.” She lowered her voice. “Give me a break here. I’ve been pushing a computer since I joined the Bureau. I want to get out in the field. I want an undercover assignment.”
“Then do the job you’re assigned and earn it.”
“Earn it? I earned it at Quantico!”
He glared.
Tori squared her shoulders. “What about the report I turned in last week? Those blackmail incidents.” She started counting on her fingers. “The senator, that real estate developer and even that movie director. There’s a connection there. Did you read the report? And those are only the ones we know about. Someone’s running a scam out there. If I could only get out to—”
“Damn it, Tori. Your job is analysis, and you do a damn good job of it.”
The words came out harsh, but after a few moments, the older man’s face softened, and she recognized the familiar features she knew so well. Travis Murphy and Tori’s dad had been best friends at the academy and had worked closely together after that. When Mark Lowell had died, Uncle Travis had stepped in, watching out for Tori and her mother.
Now, she had to wonder if he was regretting being as good a role model as he’d been. Maybe if Travis hadn’t doted on her so much, she wouldn’t have followed in his and her father’s footsteps. After all, it wasn’t too late to take that accounting job at one of the Big Eight firms.
She stifled an unladylike snort. Not damn likely.
“I may be good at it, sir, but I didn’t sign up to work a desk. I have a degree in accounting, remember? I walked away from the desk job option. I joined the Bureau—”
“To be an undercover agent. Like your dad.” His eyes were sad, remembering. “I know. And I suppose I can’t protect you forever. But you’re not going to make it to the top by bending the rules.”
Her dad had bent plenty of rules, but Tori knew when to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. It was only while she was counting that Murphy’s words sunk in. Slowly, she opened her eyes, hoping she wasn’t setting herself up for more disappointment. “What do you mean, you can’t protect me forever?” She drew in a breath. “Am I getting an undercover assignment?”
The thin line of Murphy’s mouth remained firm, but he nodded. “Yeah, kid. It looks like you are.”
Tori’s breath caught in her throat. “What? When? With who?” Her words tripped off her tongue, and it was all she could do not to shake Murphy and have him spill the entire story right then.
He held up a hand, laughing. “Hold on. You’re scheduled for a full briefing in about an hour. Right now, all I know is that you’re investigating the allegations in your report. And you’ll be working with one of the guys from your class at the Academy.”
“Doug Leyman?” she offered, suggesting one of her study buddies.
“Carter something,” Murphy said. Tori’s stomach twisted even as she wondered why Carter’s name would be unfamiliar to Murphy. Considering how much it had affected her career, surely her little tryst with Carter was legendary within the Bureau by now.
But Murphy looked genuinely clueless. “Carter Simmons, maybe?” he said.
“Sinclair,” Tori corrected. For years, she’d lived with the Carter mistake hanging around her neck like an albatross, and now this? She looked Murphy in the eye, wondering if the universe wasn’t playing some cruel joke on her. But he didn’t look to be joking, and she exhaled, standing up straighter and meeting his eye. “The agent’s name is Carter Sinclair.”
2
TORI SAT ON A BENCH outside the Burbank airport and read through her report on the Kama Resort for the umpteenth time, going over every nuance that had led to her putting together the connection between the blackmail victims, and to her conclusion that there were more victims out there still unaccounted for.
Her eyes drifted over the page, taking in every word. Not that she actually needed to read it. Heck, at this point she could practically recite the thing from memory. But reading kept her mind off Carter, and that had to be a good thing.
Carter. She shouldn’t have let her thoughts go there, because now she was stuck thinking about him. And she didn’t want to think about him. Thinking about him only made her frustrated and angry and a whole host of other emotions she had no business entertaining. And to find out she was going to be working in close quarters with him—and at a sex resort, no less.
She shivered, not sure if it was a blessing or a curse.
She recalled his face—that cocky grin, those brooding eyes. And lashes so long they’d be feminine on any man other than Carter.
A curse. Definitely a curse. And not only because he frustrated her on so many levels. Sure, he’d been her nemesis throughout their tenure at the academy, and sure, he’d gotten the prime assignments while she’d been pounding a keyboard. But she was a big girl. She knew Carter hadn’t been the one holding her back. No, that dubious honor belonged to her superiors. And while she was pissed as hell, she wasn’t pissed at Carter. Well, not much, anyway.
But this was her case. She’d put the pieces together. She’d spent hours getting blisters on her butt while she made phone call after phone call tracking down leads that tied the players to the resort. She’d been the one who’d burned up the Internet trying to find missing pieces of information. And she was the one who’d drafted the report that got the ball rolling.
By all rights, she should be leading the team. But was she? Nope. Once again, Carter had bested her, and she was reporting to him.
The situation stank.
Not that she’d really expected anything else. After all, she’d been stuck in a closet with a computer for the last few years while Carter had been out doing the job she deserved. Not that anyone had ever come out and said anything about her indiscretion with Carter. Instead, her superiors had consistently praised her brains even while citing her past insubordination. Okay, so maybe she didn’t always follow protocol, but lots of agents didn’t, right? The point was to win in the end.
No, Tori was certain that her fate was a product of her impetuous encounter with Carter. Hopefully this new mission meant she’d finally paid her dues and was getting an assignment based on merit.
Of course, it wasn’t as if they’d given her the type of assignment she’d been wanting. She’d hoped to infiltrate a drug ring or buddy up with members of the mob. Instead, she was getting undercover light—pretending to be married at a sex resort. Not what she’d expected, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
And even though she was stuck as the underling, she intended to do everything in her power to shine on this job. And if that meant impressing—and obeying—Carter Sinclair, well, she could handle that.
She’d try anyway. She intended to work her tush off in the process. Because when this was all over, she wanted to be out in the field permanently. And if Carter was her stepping-stone, then so be it. She was ten times the agent he was, and in the end, she’d surely prove it—even while being the subservient little underling.
As it was, she’d already outlined a number of ways they could get the case rolling. Her eyes skimmed over the neatly printed list, only one of many papers in her portfolio. She’d worked on her plan over the course of the entire flight from Washington to California and she had some great ideas for jump-starting their research and investigating the potential perps.
Carter was sure to be impressed.
“Looks like the gang’s all here.”
Tori flinched at the achingly familiar voice behind her. A voice that forced her to admit that, on a certain forbidden level, she was excited about seeing him again. Damn.
Gathering herself, she shifted on the bench to face him. She drew in a quick breath, hoping he didn’t notice. Carter had always been good-looking, but she hadn’t expected the commanding presence she was facing. Somehow, he’d matured since she’d seen him last, and the change suited him.
“Solved the case yet, Lowell?” he asked.
She smiled, the same cool and collected smile she’d used a hundred times to ward off unwelcome advances. “Not just yet, Sinclair. But I’ve got a self-imposed deadline. By noon tomorrow, I’ll have this thing whipped.”
“Noon?” His head cocked slightly as he looked her in the eye. “You’re slipping, Lowell. I plan to have this case wrapped up by ten at the latest.”
She set her jaw. “Dawn, then. I’ll smoke out our bad guy by dawn.” She looked him in the eye. “No matter what, I’ll solve it before you do.”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t throw another challenge at her. Good. Chalk one up for her side.
With a quick flick, she snapped her portfolio closed, then stood up, her hand out in a formal greeting. “I’ve been working on our plan of attack. I thought we could start at the local paper. I’ve already called their morgue and asked them to pull any articles about the resort so we—”
“Good to see you, too, Tori.” He started walking past her toward the baggage claim area, ignoring her hand and her comments.
Okay. That was not what she had in mind. Gathering her bags, she hurried after him. “Carter?” No response.
Damn it, he was ignoring her on purpose, and she really wasn’t in the mood for that kind of power play.
Determination renewed, she shifted her duffel’s strap on her shoulder and upped her speed, catching up to him as he eased onto the down escalator. She squeezed onto the same step, forcing him toward the handrail, his body close enough that she caught a subtle hint of his aftershave. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you ignore me,” she said.
He turned, leaning against the rail and ignoring the signs imploring him to Please Hold Handrail. For a second he just stood there, looking at her, his eyes dark and dangerous. “We’re not going to get anywhere,” he said, throwing back her words, “if you start working this case on your own without talking to me or the rest of the task force first.”
“Working this—?”
“Calling the newspaper office? What were you thinking? Word could get back to whoever’s running this scam that someone’s poking around. We’re supposed to be undercover, remember? And that means not jumping in wearing bright orange neon.”
Her fingernails dug into her palm as she tried to control her flaring temper. “I’m not an idiot, Sinclair. I said I was a reporter for a travel magazine doing some background research on California resorts. Nothing suspicious. Nothing that’s going to jeopardize your precious first time leading a mission.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to apologize, but he said nothing. Well, fine. Wasn’t this going to be a pleasant assignment?
As they stepped off the escalator, she matched him stride for stride, her irritation growing with each step. “Do you want to hear my other ideas? Or are you going to just keep on ignoring me?” Probably he expected her to simply do whatever he said without question and not even participate. Hell, this was their mission, even if he was technically in charge. And Tori intended to see to it that she was a full participant, no matter what Carter might have planned.
This time he stopped, and she gave herself two mental points. “Look, Tori. I’m tired. I haven’t slept in three days.” He shifted his carry-on to the opposite shoulder, then smiled at her. A real smile, not the least bit condescending. Damn him, how the hell was she supposed to stay righteously indignant if he was going to make nice?
“I’m not ignoring you,” he added. “I just want to get my luggage, get our car and then get on the road. Once we’re on the highway, you can talk all you want.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his baggage claim ticket. “Deal?”
She wanted to argue. Hell, she even opened her mouth and started to. But the facts were the facts, and as much as she hated it, Carter was in charge. Not only that, but he was being civil—at least a little—and that was something she hadn’t really expected considering their history and how they’d started out a few minutes ago.
She couldn’t say her anger melted, but it was definitely getting soft around the edges. And hadn’t her grandmother always said she’d catch more flies with honey? Tori had always hated that saying, but at the moment it seemed uniquely appropriate.
He stood still, waiting for her answer, his arms crossed as a flood of passengers maneuvered around them.
Her instincts told her to fight. To make him understand—right then, right there—that she wasn’t just some second-fiddle partner. She wanted to be part of the decision-making process, and she didn’t intend to let him overshadow her. But something in his eyes stalled her resolve, and she caved.
“Fine,” she said, hoping against hope that she wasn’t somehow handing Carter the upper hand for the entire length of their assignment. She lifted her chin. “We’ll talk in the car.”
CARTER EXHALED in relief. He’d expected a fight. Hell, where Tori was concerned, he always expected a fight. And he had to wonder what had caused her to back off.
Still, he didn’t intend to wonder for too long. Right then, he’d take whatever little gifts she handed him. And he fully anticipated that they’d be sparring like old times once they reached the car.
Right now, though, he needed some time alone. He’d known for days they’d be working together, but it wasn’t until he saw her sitting in the lobby, her shoulder-length brown curls hanging loose as she hunched over a pad of yellow paper, that reality had conked him on the head. He’d seen her sitting there, and all the old feelings had come rushing back—competitiveness, frustration and, yes, desire.
The frustration made sense. After all, she had a reputation for shooting from the hip, and Carter liked to follow the rules. He’d also expected the competitiveness; they’d been neck-and-neck at the academy, and he’d had no reason to expect that either of them would be completely able to keep the past in the past.
The desire, though…Well, that’s what floored him. At the academy, he’d wanted her. No question about it. But she’d only been using him, and, although she’d left him frustrated as hell that night, it wasn’t as if the love of his life had run out on him. No, that bit of lust had been nothing more than hormones. He’d been young and horny, and the fact that she challenged him had excited him.
But he’d grown up since then. No longer did Carter want to be a superagent, spending all his time in the field, surrounding himself with the underbelly of society. No, more and more he was realizing he wanted a simpler lifestyle. He didn’t want to leave the Bureau, but he did want a home. A family. A wife, a couple of kids. Maybe even a dog.
Undercover work didn’t allow for much of a social life, but he’d managed to work in one or two dates in the last few months. And the women he’d gone out with were looking for the same thing he was. They were nice women. All smart and interesting. And not one packed a pistol.
Exactly the kind of women he wanted.
So why was it that after just a few minutes with Tori his body was reacting like he hadn’t gotten laid in a year? Why could he smell her soap even though she was walking a few feet behind him? Why did he have to stifle the urge to turn around and watch the way her breasts moved under that thin cotton T-shirt she wore untucked over her jeans?
Only one answer sprang to mind—that one or two dates over the last few months weren’t enough to satisfy the libido of a guy in his early thirties. Too bad for him the hottest woman he’d run into was a woman with a history of driving him nuts. Thank God for self-control.
Unfortunately for him, though, by the time they reached the baggage claim, his self-control was fading, and his body was on hyperdrive. Not that she’d be interested even if he did make a move. Tori had made it more than clear on numerous occasions that she wasn’t interested in him, and he sincerely doubted anything had changed in that department.
Besides, even if he thought she’d jump at the chance, he still wouldn’t make a move. No matter how hot she was, Carter was a professional. What was between him and Tori was strictly business. And that’s all it would ever be.
He turned to her more brusquely than he intended. “Why don’t you get the car while I wait for my bag. I’ll meet you in front of the rental counter.”
“Trying to get rid of me already?” she asked, the corner of her mouth twitching.
He had the absurd desire to kiss her. As if that would somehow show her who was in charge. Or maybe it would show him he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. “Just go,” he said, hoping he sounded authoritative and not frustrated that she’d actually nailed his motivation.
Thankfully, she went. He watched her leave, giving in to the urge to enjoy the way she moved in the well-worn jeans and annoyed with himself for letting his self-control slip.
A plethora of black nearly identical bags started going round and round on the conveyor, and he let his mind wander even as he watched for the purple string tied onto the handle that designated his basic black bag.
His instinct in Kincaid’s office had been right; he shouldn’t have taken this case. No matter what the reward, working with Tori wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was going to be damn hard. And not just because she was so gung-ho about finally working in the field. He had no idea why she’d been stuck at a desk, but he could smell how badly she wanted a field assignment.
Unfortunately, her overeager attitude had the potential to get them into trouble. He’d had to bite his tongue not to read her the riot act when she’d told him about the stunt she’d pulled at the newspaper morgue. Thankfully, she’d told the story about being a reporter, but still…Didn’t she understand that the point was to blend in? They were undercover after all. The idea was to get the lay of the land, not to storm in with guns blazing.
But it wasn’t her misplaced enthusiasm that was going to make this mission hard. No, the real problem lay in the assignment itself—in the fact that he and Tori Lowell were going undercover together, literally and figuratively.
Too bad for Carter, on this assignment, undercover meant long days and even longer nights with Tori. Pretending to be married, of all things.
And not just any married couple. No, they had to go and pretend to be a married couple looking to spruce up their sex life. He sighed, his entire body tightening at the thought of finally being that intimate with Tori. Not exactly an appropriate reaction from a team leader, and one he intended to nip in the bud.
“Isn’t that your bag?”
He started at the sound of her voice so close behind him, then looked in the general direction she was pointing. Sure enough, there was his bag, disappearing into the bowels of the building as it went around on the conveyor. “Damn.”
She pressed her lips together, and her blue eyes twinkled. “Lost in thought?” she asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because that bag’s been around a good three times, and you haven’t moved a muscle.”
“Just thinking about our game plan,” he said, even as he hoped nothing about his voice, stance, manner, anything, revealed what he’d been thinking about. “How’d you know it was my bag?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
“The ribbon.” She met his eyes. “You always tied a ribbon on your luggage.”
He frowned. They’d traveled together only once before, and he wasn’t sure if he was flattered or disturbed that she remembered his habits so well. Fortunately, his luggage reappeared, and he was saved from deciding. He stepped forward and pulled the bag off the belt. “Ready?” he asked.
“You’re the boss. If you say I’m ready, then I’m ready.”
Carter sighed as he headed toward the exit. Apparently they were back to attitude. “So whatever I say, you’re going to do?” He paused long enough to look at her. “If I say jump, you’ll jump?”
She rolled one shoulder. “I’m told that’s the way this operation’s going to go down. You’re the big, strong chief, and I’m the subservient underling.” Her eyes widened as she peered at him, giving her an innocent quality he knew was total camouflage. “Or have I been misinformed?”
Carter stifled the urge to sigh. He had a feeling he’d be sighing a lot over the next few days, and he didn’t want to run through his recommended daily allowance. Instead, he dropped his bag on the ground, turned and faced her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Do we have a problem here, agent?”
She took a step back, her head cocked as if she was surprised by his reaction.
“Well?” He knew he sounded harsh, but he needed to know. There were a hundred reasons working in close proximity to Tori was going to be difficult, and if she intended to go out of her way to make it more so, he wanted to know right off the bat.
For a moment she faced him, that defiant expression he remembered from the academy flickering across her face. He braced for the worst, but then her expression cleared. “No, sir. No problem at all.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.” They started moving again, and he slipped on his sunglasses as they stepped outside. “So, enlighten me. You said you’d been mapping out a plan. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. “The big-shot leader is actually asking the little underling for ideas?”
He almost laughed at her expression, but something told him that her surprise was real, and he kept his face serious. “We’re a team, Tori. Which brings to mind the word teamwork. Which implies working together.”
She pressed her lips together again, and he sensed hesitation. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. I’ve been thinking about lots of things. But the most important is our cover story.” Her footsteps quickened to keep pace with his, and he could see her in his peripheral vision. “Mostly, I think we need to get our cover story straight.” She paused. “And we’ll need some practice.”
“Practice?”
“Being a couple. We should practice before checking in to the resort.”
Again, his body tightened. The idea of practicing with Tori held a certain appeal. Especially for a perfectionist like himself. Hell, they might have to practice for hours and hours….
“—or completely dysfunctional.”
He’d missed what she was saying. “Sorry. What was that?”
“I said, we could either be a sexually aware couple looking to add some additional spice to an already pretty perfect relationship, or we could be sexually dysfunctional. You know, unable to get it together and coming to the resort for some much needed help.” She paused, as if giving him time to consider all the possibilities. “Which do you think?” her voice was rising with just the hint of challenge.
She’d been baiting him, of course, and now she was expecting a reaction. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t change his breathing, didn’t even look at her. Instead he stared straight ahead and said, “Since it’s you and me we’re talking about, Agent Lowell, I think we ought to stick with trying new things.” He turned then, secure in his composure. “I know your record, agent, and I know me. And I can’t imagine either one of us ever failing at anything. And that includes sex.”
That got her. Her mouth dropped open, and she stopped cold in the middle of the sidewalk while he continued walking toward the rental car lot. After a second, he heard her laughter, and he allowed himself a simple smile. Two points for the home team, but it was early in the game.
Still, he could say one thing for certain—no matter what else it might be, this assignment wasn’t ever going to be dull.
3
THE GUY AT THE CAR RENTAL PLACE told them that the ride from Burbank to Santa Barbara generally took about two hours. As they’d been setting out, Tori had offered to drive, promising Carter she could make it there in one and a half. Like a typical guy, he’d turned down her offer, shifted into first and peeled out.
So she’d spent the last hour and twenty minutes watching him zip up the highway, slowing only to go over hills that might be concealing the local highway patrol.
As they approached the town, Tori crossed her arms over her chest. If she’d offered to make it in one hour, Carter probably would have broken the sound barrier.
She turned to him. “So, speed racer, afraid we’re going to get there and it’ll be gone?” she asked.
He clicked off the Smash Mouth CD he’d been jamming to since they’d left the airport. “Just seeing what she’s got,” he said, referring to the sleek Jaguar they’d rented. The Kama Resort cost a fortune, and one of the perks of pretending to be a client was that they also got to pretend they had money. Lots and lots of family money.
“Just how long does it take to figure that out?” Tori asked. “You opened her up the second we pulled out of the airport.” She’d spent the drive out of the L.A. area getting her notes in order to go over with Carter as soon as they were out of traffic. He’d spent the time popping the clutch, shifting like mad and generally behaving like a guy.
He shrugged, then downshifted as they rounded a curve. “Like all females, cars aren’t predictable.” He turned to face her, his honey-brown eyes unreadable. “Some take longer to get to know than others.”
She laughed. No way was he baiting her that easily. “Like me?” Turning in her seat, she faced him head-on. “Believe me, boss, you’re not going to figure me out unless I want to be figured out. And that’s a promise.”
“You always were cocky.” Hooking his finger on the bridge of his glasses, he turned just enough to aim a sideways glance in her direction. “You’re also pretty damn inscrutable.”
“And you think that’s a bad thing?”
“Depends.” The car crested a hill, and he paused to glance toward the ocean beating against the beach on their left. “It’s good in a woman you’re just starting to be interested in.” He caught her eye, and the intensity reflected there surprised her. “I mean, there’s something exciting—erotic, even—about the unknown. Don’t you agree?”
She licked her lips. She’d already decided he wouldn’t bait her, but he was sure trying hard enough. And damned if some secret little part of her actually liked the attention.
“Of course, it can also be bad,” he continued, not waiting for her nonexistent answer. “In a wife, for example.” He shrugged. “Every man wants a little mystery, sure. But I want to know all about the woman I’m going to spend my life with. I’m not inclined to have a relationship with an enigma.”
“Good thing we’re not having a relationship, then.”
“Oh, but we are.” His soft words seemed to drip over her like warm butter, and she licked her lips again, uncomfortable with the way her body was tingling simply from the sound of his voice.
“Excuse me?” She sat up straighter, determined that he not see he’d managed to dent her armor.
“You’re my wife, remember? For the next week or so, you promised to love, honor and obey me.”
Tori rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember the obey part. I’m sure any ceremony we had wouldn’t have included that.”
“No, it did.” His mouth curled into a smile. “I remember the day we discussed our vows. You were on a porch swing, wearing a flowing pink sundress.”
She laughed. She had so never worn a sundress, much less pink.
He ignored her, continuing with his story. “And you said �darling’—” He cleared his throat, then pitched his voice ridiculously high. “’Darling. When we marry, you’ll be my master, my one and only, and I’ll be your obedient little wife.”’ He coughed, then took a sip from the bottle of water tucked in by the emergency brake. “Trust me. I remember it clearly.”
“I’ll bet you do.” She crossed her arms and tried to look stern, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She’d been expecting him to rub in the fact that he was leading their team, and instead he was goofing around. She hadn’t expected this side of him at all, and while she was a little confused, she had to admit it wasn’t unwelcome.
“I’m hurt you don’t remember such an important day in our lives.”
“Oh, but I do.” She leaned forward, trying to concoct a story of her own.
“Exactly,” he said.
“What?” She frowned. He was back to not making sense.
“I do. That’s what you said. Those two little words are what got us into trouble.”
“Ha, ha.” She twisted in the seat again, then kicked her shoes off and propped her feet on the dashboard. “What I remember is that I wanted less traditional vows. You know, more modern. Husband and wife as equals. That kind of thing.” She aimed an appraising look his direction. “You didn’t like it at first, being basically a Neanderthal, but eventually you came around.”
He kept a mostly straight face, but the tiny crinkles that appeared around his eyes told her she’d scored a few points.
“Nice to know I’m a trainable Neanderthal.”
“Hell, yeah. You’re very malleable. Just like putty in my hands.”
“My flesh in your hands.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sweetheart, I like the sound of that.”
Both his words and his low, sultry tone caught her off guard, and she had the overwhelming urge to cross her legs tightly. Suddenly her hard-earned points were slipping away. “Glad to hear it,” she said, forcing bravado, “because the most we’ll ever do is talk about it. No perks with this job.”
“And here I’d gone and signed up for the fringe benefits. I’m sure as hell not here for my government salary.”
“Then I guess I must be a huge disappointment.”
“Hell, yes. Especially since this was your idea,” he said.
“My idea?”
“About getting to know each other.” His voice changed, and she recognized that they were moving from banter to work. “You’re right. There’s no way we can pass as a happily married couple if we don’t practice. Just like you said at the airport.”
Practice. She swallowed, trying to force some moisture into her mouth. She really had said that. It was number one on her list of points to address with him. And now he was praising her work. She should be thrilled. But what had seemed a reasonable plan at first now seemed dangerous. And not the kind of danger she’d anticipated when she’d joined the Bureau.
He was staring at her, gauging her reaction, and there was no way she intended to let him see that he’d thrown her. “Be careful, Sinclair.” She shot him her jauntiest glance as she pulled her feet off the dashboard. “I may have taken an oath when I joined the FBI, but you can be damn sure it didn’t include that.”
Not that that would be all that unpleasant, but there was no way she’d ever sleep with Sinclair. She’d come close once, and look at the trouble that had caused.
He shifted gears, his knuckles grazing the side of her thigh. “Don’t worry, agent. I’m not any more inclined to subject myself to that kind of peril on this mission than you are.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “You’re safe with me.”
She jumped at his touch and yanked her leg away, a stupid knee-jerk reaction that was sure to cost her, because he knew he’d really gotten under her skin.
And that, frankly, made this mission more dangerous than anything else she could have been assigned to.
CARTER HUMMED to himself as he maneuvered up Highway 101 toward Santa Barbara. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected himself to start teasing Tori. And he certainly had never expected her to respond in kind.
But he had, and she had, and the entire scenario made his head spin.
It was also a good sign.
No matter their history, and no matter any past animosity or competitiveness, first and foremost they were partners. And if there was one thing Carter believed in, it was that partners stuck together. Partners trusted each other. And, yes, partners were friends.
A few hours ago, he hadn’t been certain he could hit that level of relationship with Tori. Now, though, he knew they were at least on their way.
Still, it was only baby steps. They might be getting along, but he knew Tori well enough to know that when it came time for him to pull rank, she’d likely balk.
But he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. At the moment, he had no reason to play team leader, not when her idea about spending their first few days practicing being married made so much sense.
For that matter, Tori had a lot of good ideas. Not that he’d expected anything less. Everyone at Quantico had known within minutes of meeting her that Tori had brains and drive. Carter wasn’t entirely certain how Tori would perform undercover—analysis seemed to be where her real talent lay—but if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Tori would throw herself into this assignment.
He only hoped that was a good thing. In undercover work, overzealousness could often work to your detriment. And if Tori screwed up, that meant the mission could be jeopardized. And that meant his reassignment might go out the window.
With a quick glance in her direction, he pushed the thoughts away. He had no reason to think the mission would go anything but smoothly. Positive thinking, right? The power of positive thinking would surely see him through this assignment.
“I read your report,” he said.
She hooked her finger onto the bridge of her sunglasses and pushed them down her nose. “Well, yeah. I mean, I hope you weren’t planning to throw yourself into this assignment without reading the background info.”
Touché. “My point wasn’t to tell you that I’d read it.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
He tightened his hands around the steering wheel, wondering if she was intentionally baiting him. Considering the way she had her hand draped over her mouth, probably hiding a grin, he figured she was. “We’re talking about your conclusions,” he said. “Your report didn’t really have any.”
So much for light teasing. She dropped her hand, revealing a mouth set into a firm line.
“Are you nuts? Of course it did. Why do you think we’re driving this highway? Because we’re heading to the resort that appears to be at the center of a blackmail ring. That my dear Agent Sinclair, was my conclusion. And, I might add, pretty much the entire point of the report.”
“All of which gets us to where we are today. But I’m wondering about when we get to the resort. Any prime suspects on your radar? The owner? Anybody?”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then licked her lips.
“Tori?”
“No, not yet. I mean, I was pretty proud of myself just for making the connection to the resort.”
“You should have been. Your report was impressive. In retrospect, I suppose it seems pretty obvious, but you managed to take a set of seemingly unrelated cases and find the common denominator. And considering our victims didn’t exactly advertise that they’d visited a sex camp, your job wasn’t all that easy.”
He glanced over to see her reaction, and she was looking at him with her brow furrowed.
“What?” he said.
“I’m just wondering why you’re being so complimentary.”
He laughed. “Because you deserve the compliment.”
“But two seconds ago you were slamming me for not including any conclusions in the report.” Her mouth was tight and her back ramrod straight. The message was clear enough—Tori wasn’t particularly amenable to criticism of her work.
“I wasn’t slamming you. You found the connection. I was just wondering if you had any suspects.”
He turned his gaze away from the road to look her in the eye, but she avoided him, turning instead to look out the side window.
“Tori?”
“What? Oh. No. I mean, that’s why we’re going there, right?”
Carter frowned, mentally shaking his head in exasperation. Earlier, he and Tori had seemed to be making progress, really working together as partners. But with Tori he should have known that every move would be one step forward and two steps back. “We’re a team, Lowell. If you’ve got your eye on someone, let me know about it.”
Again, she licked her lips. But this time she didn’t stay silent. “No one in particular.” She nodded toward the pad in her lap. “I was just going over all the possibilities, actually. The owner’s got a lot of potential, of course, since he would have contact with everyone who comes to the resort. After that…” She trailed off with a shrug.
“What?”
“Just that, the way the resort is set up, the clients follow a certain track. None of our victims line up.”
“And that means what?”
“A couple of things. For one, with some of the victims, the information used to blackmail them was simply that they’d gone to the resort at all.”
“The client list is confidential,” Carter said. That was another reason the owner didn’t make the best suspect. If word got out that the promised confidentiality had been compromised, his business would go down the tubes.
“Exactly,” Tori said. “And for some of the victims, that was enough ammo to blackmail them.” She riffled some papers. “For others, though…” She trailed off with a shrug. “Well, like for our celebrity victim. What celebrity would care about being seen at a sex resort?”
“So the ammo against him went a lot deeper.”
Tori nodded. “Exactly. A lot nastier. A lot more provocative.” She turned to face him. “And there’s more. The victims didn’t come in contact with the same people. Here, I’ll show you.” She rummaged around for a while, then pulled out a sheaf of papers with computer-generated charts and graphs. “I did this before I left. It’s a breakdown of everyone we know that our victims interacted with.” She pointed to the chart. “Here and here are the intersection points. But there isn’t one person except the owner who came in contact with everybody.”
“So maybe he is our man,” Carter said. He didn’t believe it, but he wondered how Tori would analyze the situation.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Except from what I understand, he’s squeaky clean.”
“On the surface. Maybe underneath, he’s as dirty as they come.”
“Well, he certainly is the only one my research points to specifically. But still…”
“What?”
She waved the sheaf of papers. “This may suggest one result, but it doesn’t feel right. He’s got so much at stake. And he’s such an obvious suspect.”
“Too obvious?”
“I think so.”
“I do, too,” Carter said. He nodded toward her pile of papers. “So you just pulled that together after you were assigned this project?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t hard. Research comes easy to me.”
“I’m impressed.” He shouldn’t be, of course. Tori Lowell was one smart lady.
She flashed him a genuine smile. “Thanks.”
“You’ll let me know if you find any hidden clues buried in your charts and graphs?”
She laughed, revealing a tiny dimple in her cheek, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I promise I’ll share.”
While she turned to her notes, Carter whistled to himself. So far so good. Not only were they almost to Santa Barbara, but he’d made a little progress with Tori. Maybe teamwork wasn’t her middle name, but at least he was pretty certain she’d make an effort. Considering it was Tori he was talking about, he considered that a victory.
Fifteen minutes later, Carter tapped the brakes, slowing the car as they passed the sign welcoming them to Santa Barbara, a quaint, Spanish-influenced town that housed a good percentage of the world’s rich and famous. “Any recommendations?”
She looked up from her notes. “For what?”
“Hotels.”
That must have surprised her, because she closed her portfolio and turned to face him. “We’re not going straight to the resort?”
“I told you. Your idea makes sense.”
She turned, facing him more directly, one eyebrow arched. “Really?”
“Really.” And he wanted to make peace after their little tiff about the suspects. Not that Tori needed to know that. “Besides,” he continued, “we’re not due to meet with the task force until the day after tomorrow. They’re still working on making sure our cover stories are in place. So we’ve got two full nights to practice being married.” He grinned, then patted her hand. “Works out well, don’t you think? Gives me time to get acquainted with my little wife.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lesson number one—the little wife ain’t so little. And she’s got a mean right hook.” She frowned. “So you’re really agreeing to this?” She squinted, as if searching for ulterior motives.
“Hell, yes. I told you. It’s perfect. You’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”
Her shoulders dropped a bit as she relaxed. “Well, okay, then.” She aimed her blue eyes at him, and he couldn’t help but smile at the light he saw there. Tori liked to win, no doubt about that. “But remember those words,” she said. “I expect to hear them a lot.”
“Words?”
“�You’re right.”’
He laughed. “I always am.”
She opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it and leaned back against her seat. “I’m right. You, I’m not so sure about.” She flashed a grin. “But you’re doing okay today.”
“Thanks so much.” Knowing Tori, so long as she got her way, she’d happily praise his leadership abilities.
“Anytime,” she said, looking slightly smug.
“The hotel?”
“Oh.” She cracked her portfolio again. “I didn’t have anyplace in mind.” With a shrug, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Guess I wasn’t really expecting you to agree.”
He decided to let that one pass. “Know anything about Santa Barbara?”
“I’m an east coast girl.”
“Hmm.” He scanned the street, his eyes finally settling on a sign announcing tourist information. He pulled into the parking lot, stopped the car, then eased open his door. “Show time.”
As they headed up the steps to the entrance, he slipped his arm around her waist. She stiffened a bit, then relaxed, and he pulled her closer, surprised at how natural she felt on his arm.
They stepped through the doors, and a ponytailed blonde looked at them. “May I help you?”
“You sure can,” Carter said. He gave Tori a gentle squeeze, amused by the flash of irritation in her eye before she quelled it and turned to smile at the receptionist. “We’re just passing through on the way up to the wine country. Honeymoon, you know. And we’re looking for some place to spend a couple of nights.”
“Newlyweds!” The young woman clapped her hands, which was a bit more reaction than Carter had been expecting. He caught Tori’s eye, then shrugged in response to her slight grin.
“I just got engaged,” the woman announced, holding out her hand for them. A diamond that cost more than the gross national product of a small country perched there on a platinum band.
“It’s lovely,” Tori said, apparently getting into their roles.
The woman’s gaze dipped first to Tori’s fingers, then his, and Carter cringed, realizing what was coming. “Did you decide not to exchange rings?”
Damn it. He’d left the rings in his suitcase. It hadn’t occurred to him to pull them out just to run into the tourist office.
“Can you believe his brother lost them?” Tori said, jumping in to cover for him. She leaned forward, bringing this stranger into her confidence. “I was furious, of course.” Then she turned and aimed a smile so wide and sweet in Carter’s direction that it was all he could do to not crack up right there. “But I don’t need a ring. Just my husband.”
“Oh, wow. That’s so sweet. I would have been spitting mad.”
“She was,” Carter said.
“True enough,” Tori agreed. “And I’ve got one heck of a temper.” Again, that innocent look. Only this time he detected a hint of warning. “Don’t I, sweetie?”
“She certainly does.”
“Still,” the woman continued, “I never would have—”
“About those hotels…” Carter interrupted. He stroked Tori’s shoulder with a fingertip, amused when she shivered under his touch. Probably holding back a wave of that infamous temper.
“Sure thing.” The woman pulled out a binder about three inches thick, then flipped to a tab marked Lodging. “I think a bed-and-breakfast would be the most romantic, don’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t—”
“Perfect,” Carter said.
Ten minutes later they were registered for the honeymoon package at a five room B and B on the beach. Carter even had a card for a local jeweler tucked into his back pocket. “So you can buy replacement rings,” the woman had said.
“I think that went well,” Carter said, as he unlocked the car and opened the door for Tori.
“Sure. Just like arranging your own execution.” She slipped inside, frowning at him all the while. “Why on earth did you agree to a B and B? Do you have any idea how intimate those places are?”
“Of course I do. That’s why we’re there. Dress rehearsal.” He didn’t give her time to answer. Just shut the door and headed toward his side of the car, stopping at the trunk to rummage for their rings.
When he got inside, she was glaring at him.
He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it was your idea.”
“You’re right. It was. And I hope you’re memorizing your new litany—you’re right, Tori. Everything you say is right.” She grinned. “But you know this means you sleep on the couch.”
He held back a chuckle as he started the car. “Damn. Just barely a newlywed and already I’m kicked out of the marital bed.”
THEY FOUND the place easily enough. A hacienda with faded pink stucco tucked into a hill overlooking a secluded bit of the ocean.
The setting sun gave the building a warm, sensual glow, and Carter felt a twinge of regret that he wasn’t really there on a honeymoon, because surely this place was made for lovers.
“Wow.” Her soft whisper startled him, and Carter realized she was having much the same reaction. “It’s beautiful.”
He nodded, curt and firm, not wanting to reveal that his mind was already conjuring images of the two of them on the beach, in their room, in bed….
“Come on.” He yanked open the door even as he yanked himself away from his sordid thoughts.
They headed into the building and were checked in by the owner’s son, a lanky teenage boy who showed them to the top floor and their room.
“It’s the honeymoon suite,” he said, stopping outside the closed door. “Best in the house. You’re lucky. Usually it’s booked up, but the couple who was supposed to have it decided to come only for the weekend.”
He pulled an old-fashioned skeleton key out of the front pocket of his khakis, then pushed open the door. Tori stepped through first, and he heard her gasp. She turned to face him, and he saw something unrecognizable reflected in her eyes. Wonder? Fear? He didn’t know, so he followed her into the room.
As soon as he saw the layout, he knew exactly what she was thinking.
The cozy room was absolutely beautiful. A perfect lovers’ paradise with one wall of windows that overlooked the ocean, a connecting bathroom featuring a claw-foot tub, a stiff-looking wing chair and, right there in the middle of the room, the one thing that had brought the gasp to Tori’s lips.
A bed.
One queen-size bed draped with white netting.
An ice bucket and a bottle of champagne finished the dГ©cor.
“It’s perfect,” Carter said to the kid, even as his eyes continued to scan the room.
“Absolutely,” Tori agreed. Her eyes caught his, and he imagined a deer caught in the headlights. He knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking the exact same thing.
The room might be perfect for real newlyweds, but for them, it was anything but.
Because the room lacked one very important essential.
The room had no couch.
4
AS THE KID closed the door to leave them alone, Tori fought the ridiculous urge to run after him and invite him in for a quick game of cards. Or better yet, Monopoly. Something that would take all night so she wouldn’t have to deal with being alone in a room with Carter. And not just any room. No, they had to be trapped together in the most romantic room Tori had ever laid eyes on.
Not that she had a lot to compare the room to—her experience tended toward accommodations with gray metal cots and really stiff sheets—but in a room like this…Well, even she might be convinced to wear something pink and flowing.
Scary. Very, very scary.
Fortunately, Carter looked as disconcerted as she felt.
“At least there’s a down comforter,” Tori said. “That should pad the floor enough for you.”
“For me?”
She ran her tongue over her teeth inside her closed mouth. She’d never been one to worry about chivalrous niceties. In fact, she considered the tendency of men to insist women depart an elevator first to be the height of annoyance. Half the time they had briefcases and bags and ended up creating an obstacle course when they could easily just get out of her way.
Which meant that now was not the time for her to start acting like some demure little female. If he wanted the bed, he could have the bed.
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