by Jane Cousins
Cullen was doubting her abilities? Patricia’s chin lifted. “I said I would do it.”
“And I appreciate it. I just want you to be on your guard. No one who has worked with me in the past would expect me to have a partner. I was approaching this with the idea that the more we stand out in the crowd, the more we will be able to get away with. You won’t be able to skimp when it comes to taking on the role.” Damn, any number of things could go wrong on an Op with this short amount of prep time. He abhorred the idea of Patricia getting hurt.
“I said it was fine.” It would be a challenge, yes, but one Patricia believed with the right outfit, some hair dye and makeup that she could duplicate. And why did Cullen still look doubtful? Huh, she’d show him.
“Well. If you are sure. Of course you can take some comfort in the knowledge that come Saturday night in London, you will at least be wearing more than you are in this painting.”
Oh, crap. How had that thing unrolled? “Give that back.”
“Now this is one hell of an outfit.” Cullen held it away from Trix’s reach, studying it intently, his eyes narrowing. “Are you supposed to be…”
“Massaging a very naked Zartel and feeding him peeled grapes? Yes.”
A flash of fire speared Cullen’s gut, his Archer instincts kicking into gear, letting him know that with a ballpeen hammer, and three carefully placed whacks, he could reduce the bare chested behemoth into rubble in two point one seconds flat. Grimly he stared at the painting. “Talk about delusions of grandeur.”
“Thanks.” Patricia’s tone couldn’t be any drier. The painting might not be entirely accurate in regards to her Goddess given assets but it wasn’t all hyperbole.
“I was actually referring to Zarty here and his… rampant sword. As for the depiction of you?” Cullen’s gaze lifted to settle on the flesh and blood woman. “I think it speaks to a schoolboy’s imagination of the perfect woman, when, the reality…” Those jade green eyes shimmered with heat. “… is much more exciting, interesting and challenging.”
Gulp. Patricia didn’t know whether to thank Cullen for the compliment or rebuke him. She settled for a haughty lift of her chin, issuing a small scoffing sound. “Well, we both have work to do.” Damn, and only as she was shutting the Vault door behind her did she remember frozen Zartel. No, not her problem. Besides, he was a centuries old warrior, she was sure he’d be fine.
Cullen listened to the Vault door close. Smiling to himself. He was pretty sure he was getting under Patricia Bennett’s skin. And she’d agreed to partner up with him for Saturday night’s mission. More time together.
As he began rolling up the fanciful painting, he eyed the other gifts in the bag. It didn’t look like he would need to do much to derail his competitor, except stand back and let the warrior be himself.
Hmmm, but studying that massive bare stone chest and those tightly fitted breeches, Cullen couldn’t help but shake his head. When he was growing up he’d wanted to be tall and intimidating. It had taken him a number of years to realise that his lean, average stature was in fact a gift. Everyone underestimated him.
Still, he couldn’t help himself, he began tying golden bows in Zartel’s flowing frozen locks, using the ribbons he found in one of the gift boxes.
As retribution went it was rather fitting. He had the distinct feeling that the warrior was quite vain. And he hadn’t struck Cullen as being much of a brain trust. So this would hit him right in the ego.
And okay, he rather liked the idea of Patricia seeing the studly warrior in a silly light. He was sure she wasn’t blind to Zartel’s many, many flaws just because he had a chiselled jaw, six-feet-six inches of glistening muscle and flowing blonde locks. But that insecure boy he’d once been had taken control of his actions.
Of course he wasn’t stupid enough to hang around waiting for Zartel to unfreeze. It was time to take an early lunch. Oh, but first he snapped one more photo for the community board. Hmm, and one more to turn into his newest screen saver. Yes, that one was definitely a keeper.
Chapter Ten
Patricia spent most of Saturday morning staring at the photo of Evangeline Tios and then at the contents of her wardrobe. She dismissed all her formal wear, including her favourite classic little black dress. Way too demure and classy for this particular outing.
No, not outing. Mission.
Hmmm, the problem was that impersonating Evangeline, prima sexed up ballerina and wife number six of a shady powerful man, it would require her to display a lot of skin. She’d spent hours googling Evangeline and the woman oozed self-confidence and a raw sensuality with every twitch of her barely covered hips.
Patricia wasn’t a prude. And she worked hard to keep in shape. Swimming. Yoga. And her all important figure skating.
But still, she wasn’t twenty-four-years old anymore, and pretending to be was going to take some effort… a lot of effort. Okay, so if she was that young, and as carelessly confident about her body as Evangeline, what would she wear to an exclusive school Christmas function? Nothing she had in her wardrobe, that was for sure.
Was there time to dash over to Riya’s boutique and see if her Fate Weaving cousin had something waiting for her? Possibly. Wait, no. If she did run to Riya for help then it would be only a nanosecond before the Southern Sanctuary grapevine was running hot with speculation. And she was sure Cullen didn’t want anyone to know about his personal, private business.
No. She couldn’t chance it. Pity. Riya did such good work when it came to flashy apparel, just look at her figure skating costumes. Grrr, she was a dolt. Striding into her spare room, Patricia flung open the wardrobe doors and surveyed the cacophony of colours, netting, sparkles, sequins, and feathers before her.
She was looking at forty plus years of costumes here. Interesting to note as she’d gotten older the colours had grown more subdued, there were fewer diamantes, and much higher necklines. When had that happened?
Running her fingers over the hangers she wasn’t sure what she was looking for… oh, this one. She hauled out the tiny sparkly dress and considered it. Hmm, maybe, with a few tweaks. If she removed that. Lowered that. Found some shoes. Yes, that would work. It would just take time.
Damn, even though it was Saturday, she’d intended to go into work today for a few hours. But it wasn’t like she was on the roster or anything, so if she didn’t go in, it would be fine.
Hmmm, and bonus, it would also mean she wouldn’t have to spend the day avoiding Zartel if he chose to turn up again and pout.
Oh, the yelling and whining after he unfroze. All that fuss, in the Library, no less. All because he’d been nibbled on by a scared book. Patricia had kept her office door firmly locked and ignored his knocking until he’d gone away yelling something about gold ribbons in his hair and swearing revenge. She hadn’t been sure who he was swearing revenge on, the ribbons? Honestly, she was just happy he was stomping off to pout elsewhere.
A habit of his she totally intended to break him of. When she had some time to spare. For the moment she had a date with a pair of scissors and a sewing kit. Then she would have an early night, in an attempt to catch at least a few hours of sleep before embarking on a beauty blitz of epic proportions.
Patricia found herself brimming with anticipation and excitement, imagining the look on Cullen’s face when he saw her vamped up. She’d already proven how valuable she could be to him. She intended to double down on that tonight and have him all but begging her forgiveness for ever doubting her capabilities or skills.
Reaching over and tapping on her sound system, Patricia found herself singing along with INXS as she picked up the scissors and began making the tiny outfit in her hands even tinier. By this time tomorrow, when the mission was over, Cullen would be worshipping at her feet with gratitude for helping him crack wide open his case and bringing the villain of the piece to justice.
And she wasn’t squirming because she liked the idea of Cullen worshipping her. No, that heated fluttery feeling was nothing m
ore than a case of jitters. She used to get them all the time before she competed in figure skating competitions. Right before she went out and slayed her rivals.
Of course if they did successfully pin point who Mara was in cahoots with this evening, and bring down her network of bad guys. Stopping their yet to be determined nefarious activities. Then Cullen could be potentially packing his house up, closing down the Annexe, and out of her hair for good by mid-week. Ouch, Patricia accidentally stabbed herself with the needle. Sucking her sore thumb she couldn’t help but recall the kiss Cullen had laid on her at the Annexe. The softness of his lips against hers, and the tiny flickers of liquid heat that had erupted low in her body.
Oh, good Goddess. Was she attracted to Cullen? No. Not possible. Okay, yes. The man was gorgeous. And she knew for a fact those semi-formal clothes he too often chose to wear covered a lean, surprisingly muscular frame. And sure, he was intelligent. He was certainly capable of matching wits with her. So far too capable. As the score seemed pretty much tied.
No, all she was feeling was the run-off affects of meeting Zartel… except, besides his physical attributes, the hulking warrior left her kind of cold. Shouldn’t the sight of his manly bare chest make her heart beat faster? All she felt when she saw him lately was irritation. The warrior was a man of few words, and the words he did emit generally aggravated her.
Had her wiring gotten crossed somehow? She was a mature, independent, smart woman. She wasn’t a slave to her hormones. Okay, yes, she couldn’t eradicate completely that small romantic fantasy she still clung to for some insane reason, wanting to be swept off her feet. But she also wanted an intellectual equal. Someone who had a quick and agile mind. Who would challenge her. Someone she could laugh with, someone who didn’t need either the entire premise or the punchline explained to him.
And Zartel was not that man.
She had been kidding herself. Just because a single, gorgeous warrior strode into her Library, it didn’t mean he was her meld match. It was only natural she’d think that. His appearance so soon after she’d met with Great-Aunt Alma. That sparkle she thought she’d seen in her Aunt’s eyes. Okay, so she’d put two and two together and gotten forty-two. She was not the heroine in some bodice ripper. She would be fifty in four months time.
And she was happy. She had a job she loved. And okay, yes, maybe she worked a little too much. Failing to delegate and empower her staff enough. Ate too many lunches and dinners at her desk. Worked too many weekends. But she had a loving family, a heap of friends and she had never needed a man to complete her. She swore to do better when it came to work life balance in the future.
It wasn’t like the Library had suffered with all the time she’d spent focusing on helping Cullen pinpoint his traitorous mole. She’d spent all of Thursday in his hi-tech lair. Meetings had still taken place. Issues had been resolved. Research projects had been signed off. Sure, she had still received a healthy number of texts and messages from family hoping to just casually request her help. But no one had suffered because she’d failed to drop everything immediately and leap to respond.
Patricia promised herself that she would do better. Maybe even think about booking that holiday she’d been considering. Somewhere quiet, where she could put her feet up and do nothing but read all day. Now that sounded heavenly.
Three hours later as Patricia stretched, wincing at the ache in her back and neck, she surveyed the finished outfit she would be donning in a few hours time. Cullen’s eyeballs were going to fall out of their sockets. Wait. What? Obviously all that time working with hot glue today had made her a little loopy. She only wanted to impress Cullen with her ability to inhabit the undercover role he had assigned her. She was not trying to actively court his personal attention… was she?
No, and it would be ridiculous for her to try, wouldn’t it? The man was an Archer. Dedicated to protecting the sovereign soil. He’d been bred to put duty above all else. His presence here at the Southern Sanctuary was only temporary. Buying the house. Setting up the Annexe. Involving himself in the community by joining social clubs, making friends and attending parties, that was was all just instinct and training. To infiltrate. To insinuate himself seamlessly into the environment around him.
He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it.
Look how effectively he’d kept the rabid gossipmongers at bay. Still, two years later, very little was known about the man and his past. Snap, that had to be the reason for the Annexe. Misdirection. It was perfect cover. Her family loved nothing more than a mystery and a little controversy. Patricia was reasonably sure that the majority of the community found the whole idea of the Library Annexe and how it came into being highly amusing.
Books magically disappearing and re-appearing? Damn, she should have connected the dots sooner. The man was innately a magician, all smoke and mirrors. Direct everyone’s attention one way while he happily went about his real business.
Damn, he was probably just as eager for this whole charade to be over as she was to get her books back. No doubt he was chomping at the bit to return to England, infiltrate some new even more highly secretive branch of the government and resume his duties.
Heavens, he’d been playing her, everyone, from the moment he’d arrived. He’d been betrayed. Blindsided. And he’d needed somewhere to hide out until the fuss surrounding his mysterious disappearance died out. But she was betting from the moment he’d stepped foot in the Sanctuary he’d begun assessing everyone and their skill set. Getting to know the Alpha Elite Enforcers on the target shooting range. Opening the Annexe and quietly observing everyone who came through the door.
If he’d needed a suspect hunted down she imagined he would have insinuated himself more deeply into Elijah’s or Darcy’s close network of friends. But no, he had three suspects. And mountains of data to sift through. Of course he would seek out the best analytical minds in the District.
All the heated, superior challenging looks made sense now. He’d made a study of her personality. Knew that if he backed her into a corner that Patricia would come out swinging. And like a complete noob, she’d been flattered when he’d invited her down to his hi-tech lair, asking for her opinion, her fresh perspective.
Huh, she could see the two prong attack he had instigated with clear eyes now.
Phase one, antagonise her. Get her attention. Set up the Potting Shed as a Annexe. Be a thorn in her side, one she was desperate to get rid of. Then, when enough time had past. When all his suspects had returned to their normal routines and lowered their guard. When he had all the intel in, the suspect identified… Hell, had he known it was Mara all along? Probably.
But realising he needed a better cover, a so-called partner, he’d reeled Patricia into his plans with a few heated looks, a candlelit dinner and a kiss.
Damn, she wasn’t the heroine in Cullen’s espionage thriller, she was the smart but oblivious friend who gets murdered in chapter two, after stumbling over evidence that would bring down the evil intelligence cabal.
Grrr, forcing down some toast for dinner, Patricia tried to work through her anger. Finally coming to the conclusion that since she and Cullen were working towards the same goal, namely discovering evidence of the traitorous mole so that Cullen could leave the Sanctuary, then there was no point in kicking up a fuss. It didn’t change anything. And yes, two sets of eyes in a room crowded with suspects was better than one. And certainly she was motivated. The sooner Cullen was gone. The sooner she could get back to… well, not work, but maybe take that holiday. Or just spend more time this Summer home, curled up with a good book, now that sounded nice.
Tidying up the kitchen Patricia glanced at the clock, it was still early yet, but since she would need to get up around three-ish to start getting ready she supposed she’d better try to grab some sleep. A smile tilted up the edges of her lips as she headed for the master bedroom, Cullen better watch out, she totally had his number now. And she would concentrate on the positives. All going well tonight, he
might be leaving as early as next week… Hmm, and why did that thought send her gut roiling? She supposed she would miss matching wits with a man of his intellect, that was all.
Clearly she needed more excitement in her life. Maybe she should think about setting up another book club. No, they were still paying off the property damages thanks to their last attempt. Well, she’d think of something. Come the new year, Cullen and his intense jade green eyes would be nothing but a distant memory. Hmmm, and now big knots had joined the uncomfortable roiling, what was up with that? No doubt it was nothing more than some pre-jitter nerves concerning her looming mission.
Seriously, if anyone had told Patricia three days ago that she would be impersonating a newly wed, twenty-four year old Ecuadorian Prima Ballerina, who was the muse of a company director with a porn fetish, she was pretty sure she would have laughed in that person’s face. Or had them committed.
* * *
It was just after five in the morning when Patricia stepped out of the Transportal into the Annexe. They’d agreed to meet here as Cullen had already mapped and keyed in their destination.
Throwing the feathery cape she had been holding and her matching small reticule down on the pristine and empty circulation desk, Patricia took a deep breath. Well, not too deep, as the dress was rather tight. Thankfully, the outfit had been designed for the athletic rigours of ice skating. And even with the changes Patricia had made to it there was no danger of her having a nip slip. No matter how precarious and fragile the dress might look.
She couldn’t wait to see Cullen’s reaction. She was hoping he’d swallow his tongue but she’d settle for him being completely loss for words in shock and admiration, given how completely she had become Evangeline Tios. Even Patricia had been gobsmacked by her transformation.
She’d worked damn hard to get it right. And it hadn’t exactly been a pain-free exercise. Even now her feet were putting her on notice that she was going to pay dearly for strutting around in five inch stilettos.