Love Undercover

by Miley Maine

  He turned his gaze to me. His jaw was locked up tight. “Just listen to me, okay?”

  Wow. He was being kind of harsh about this. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I traveled to Santiago alone, and I go all over the city with a baby.”

  “Yeah, and you have Mateo with you. A highly-trained bodyguard.”

  That was true. But a bodyguard was a new addition to my life. I’d grown up fending for myself. “Listen, I’ve worked with high-risk groups in the poorest parts of Alabama. I can handle myself.”

  “Kate,” he ground out. He dropped his arm from my shoulder and gripped the rail with both hands. “Just listen to me, dammit.”

  I took a step back. I wasn’t scared of him, but he was clearly wound up.

  He reached out with his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, shifting his weight. “I guess I stayed up reading too many headlines last night.”

  I let him take my hand. “Want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “I don’t need therapy.”

  “I’m not licensed yet anyway.” I put my hand on his back. “I’m just asking as a friend,” I said.

  He put his hands back on the rail and let his head hang between his arms. Beneath the palm of my hand, the muscles in his back were taut. I rubbed circles on his back, hoping to ease some of his tension.

  “Did something happen? When you were traveling? To you? Or someone you know?” I asked.

  His laugh was bitter. “Not everything needs to be psychoanalyzed.”

  Stung, I pulled my hand away. Apparently Owen wasn’t always the perfect gentleman. But that was fine. I wasn’t the perfect lady all the time either. Something was obviously going on with him. If he was one of my teenage clients, I’d back off now and invite him to try an activity.

  But Owen wasn’t a teen, and he’d notice any of my attempts to try and manage his emotions. And he likely wouldn’t appreciate it too much.

  Owen’s iron grip didn’t loosen, but he did straighten up to look at me. “Kate. I’m sorry. There’s no reason for me to snap at you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I won’t push.”

  He didn’t grab me, but he held his arm out, motioning for me to come back and stand next to him. I slotted myself back into his side and he kissed the top of my head. “You’re amazing,” he said.

  “I’ll settle for normal, but thanks.”

  Owen’s posture was stiff, but he was trying.

  The rest of the ferry ride passed quickly. I couldn’t get enough of just staring at the rough water, knowing I was halfway around the world, in Europe, and crossing the Irish sea.

  “I got us a room at a bed and breakfast in Dublin,” he said. “And I booked us a tour for Blarney Castle. It can be a little crowded, but it’s worth it. And we can take the train to Glendalough. It’s one of the prettiest spots I’ve seen anywhere in the world.”

  “I can’t wait,” I told him. I put my hand on top of Owen’s where his knuckles had been white from the strength of his grip just a few minutes ago. He eased up and let go of the railing, flexing his hand. He turned it over, palm up, and took my hand into his.

  “The travel websites didn’t lie,” I said as Owen and I strolled along the edge of the river. “And neither did you. Glendalough is just as pretty as everyone claims.”

  After we’d completed the guided tour, my phone chimed. I smiled as I held the screen up to show Owen. “Mrs. Laurent sent me a picture of Gabriel.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  “I do. But it’s nice to have a break.”

  “It’s a good practice for having your own kids.”

  “True,” I said. “I had some experience with raising my sister. But she was a little older when I took over.”

  “Do you want kids of your own?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I love kids, but I don’t know about having my own.” I’d spent so many nights not eating so that my sister could have food. Or saving part of the free lunch I’d gotten at school so my sister could have an apple when I could reach home. “So I may choose to work with kids, and that will be enough. What about you?”

  “I’ve never considered it an option,” he said. “I’ve always traveled for work.”

  “And kids need stability, and permanence,” I said. I’d had neither, but it wasn’t because one of my parents traveled for work. “But there are ways to create that, even when one parent travels. There are plenty of families who lead a nomadic lifestyle and homeschool their children.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the life I’ll ever lead,” he said. He didn’t offer any reason why.

  “Do you like working for Mr. Laurent?” I asked.

  “Sure, as well as any other job.”

  That was not exactly a ringing endorsement. “Did you always want to be an accountant?” I asked. He so rarely gave me any personal details, and I wanted to know more about him.

  “No,” he said. “When I was ten all the way to fifteen, I thought I’d join the military.”

  “Is there a reason you didn’t?” Owen certainly looked like he could be a soldier.

  “My parents begged me not to enlist. They wanted me to go to college first. So I went, majored in finance, and then I got offered a job.”

  “Where did you go to college?” I asked.

  “Georgetown.”

  “Wow. I remember when I was applying to colleges. Georgetown is really competitive. You must have had great scores on your SAT and ACT.” Because of my lack of resources, I’d only applied to community colleges that offered me a full scholarship.

  “They were fine,” he said.

  “You’re being modest.” I swatted him and laughed. “Let me guess, you were the valedictorian at your high school?”

  “Maybe,” he said, grinning. “Speaking of the Laurents, how do you like working for them? Do they treat you well?”

  “Well, yes. In addition to my salary, they’ve paid for everything. This trip, the clothes, all my expenses. Thanks to them, I’ve already got enough money saved to pay for graduate school next year, and I send money to my sister so she doesn’t have to work as many hours.”

  “Do you feel like you know them well?”

  “Not really. They keep their distance, and they don’t micromanage me with Gabriel. They’re pretty busy, especially Mr. Laurent.”

  “Is he home most nights?” Owen asked.

  “Yes. He has a lot of business meetings at home. And business dinners.”

  “Like the one I attended? Or smaller?”

  “I don’t know. Smaller. He has one or two people over several nights a week,” I told him.

  “Have you met any of them?”

  “Rarely,” I said. “Why are you quizzing me?”

  “I’m not. I just worry about you.”

  “It feels more like an interrogation than worry,” I said.

  “Mr. Laurent is a professional, with great business sense, and good judgment in the office, but there are a lot of people in Santiago that aren’t so professional, and I would worry if he was inviting them into his home while you were there,” he said.

  “Mr. Laurent has been nothing but wonderful to me. He’s a great dad too.”

  “Okay,” Owen said. “I overstepped.”

  “Why? Why would you think he’d do business with unsavory people? Wouldn’t you know better than I would? You’re the one who’s in the office with him all day.”

  “You’re right. I should know. But sometimes people act differently at home than they do at the office. There’s been some corruption in Chile; it’s well known.”

  “He wouldn’t associate with people who are corrupt,” I said.

  Would he? I liked to think I was good at reading people, but I didn’t have that much experience with men. All the men in my family had ended up in prison, and I’d never dated. I rarely got close to guys as friends either.

  I was defending Mr. Laurent, but I didn’t know him that well. Did Owen think his boss was corrupt? Was that even poss
ible? And how much did I trust Owen? When it came down to it, I didn’t know him that well either.

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it was the truth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Owen

  Good one, Owen. Very smooth of you, to put Kate on the defensive, and get her riled up. So much for the techniques you learned at the Farm.

  I could have kicked myself for pushing too hard.

  She clearly felt protective of Laurent. Which made sense, because he was paying her an obscene amount of money to watch one child, and he’d single-handedly made it possible for her to travel the world, support her sister, and attend graduate school next year. All things that were clearly important to her.

  I was off-kilter. I’d freaked out when we were on the ferry, and it was obvious to Kate. I’d been trained for the unexpected. Now, I had to adapt to being intimately involved with Kate, while she was so close to the threat I was chasing – Laurent himself.

  I had to quit reacting, and calm down. I knew better than to keep asking questions when the other person was getting agitated.

  I hoped I hadn’t alarmed Kate. I could not afford for her to get suspicious of who I was, and what I was actually doing working for Laurent. And if she told Laurent about anything I’d said, I would be fucked. Laurent was a savvy bastard. He’d know there was a reason I was asking, and I’d be dead the same day. And not only would I be dead, but Kate would be in jeopardy, just for pointing out my lack of loyalty.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me today.”

  “It started on the ferry,” she said. “Something affected you.” Her hand came up again. “It’s okay. It happens to everyone.”

  Her calm demeanor and her social work background were going to work out in my favor here. I valued mental health care, and I was grateful for the counseling I’d received after rough missions. But this wasn’t some issue I was holding onto from a traumatic event. I was worried about Kate surviving her job with Laurent, and I couldn’t fucking tell her that without making everything worse.

  I had to accept that there was no way to warn her, and get her back to Alabama. The only thing I could do was succeed at my job, and get this asshole locked away for a very long time.

  If she thought my issues came from a bad experience while traveling, then I’d take it. “I don’t want to be an asshole,” I said.

  “You’re not.”

  “Thank you for being nice, and not tossing me off the ferry into the ocean. Or into this river.”

  “I went easy on you the first two times,” she said. She pointed a warning finger at me. “But next time…”

  I laughed, grateful that she’d allowed me to divert from the trainwreck of our earlier conversation.

  “I need to check in at work,” I said. Claire had told me to call her when I got to Ireland, in case she could arrange a meeting with any of her assets.

  “No problem,” she replied. “I want to get a closer look at the Monastery.”

  I watched her walk away from me, until she rejoined our tour group. Then I slipped further down the path to a spot where no one was nearby.

  Claire picked up on the first ring. “I have an asset for you to meet,” she said. “He agreed to meet at midnight since you’re traveling with your nanny friend.”

  This was going to be tricky. “He wants to meet at the club on Wexford Street. You can’t miss it. Every University student in Dublin will be there.”

  Jeez. A fucking club. I was going to stick out. “He wants to meet at a club,” I said. “To exchange information that will potentially prevent a deadly terrorist attack, and possibly secure his freedom.” I rubbed my forehead. At thirty-two, I already felt too old for this particular part of the job.

  “You’re undercover. One of the best. So get your ass in gear and quit whining,” Claire said.

  “I’ll be there. Anything else?”

  “No. He wouldn’t tell me anything. He wants immunity from the Irish government. Embezzlement and racketeering charges.”

  “Well, if we get the target like I plan to, then I have no doubt we can work something out with Irish Military Intelligence.” If this asset helped prevent a chemical war, then he’d likely get whatever the hell he asked for.

  At midnight, I pulled on my jeans and a plain black polo shirt. Once I was sure that Kate was sound asleep, I slipped out of our room in the Bed and Breakfast, and I headed over to the club on Wexford Street.

  I was not in the mood for a party scene, but if this was what the asset wanted, I’d play along. The thought of leaving Kate alone in that room, unprotected, turned my stomach, but I had no choice. I certainly couldn’t tell her what I was doing.

  At least I’d chosen a Bed and Breakfast with security. So many of them were rickety old houses with equally rickety deadbolts. This one had electronic locks on the doors, and a doorman posted at the only entrance, twenty-four hours a day.

  At the club entrance, I dropped my shoulders and tried to loosen my spine. Laurent’s men had mistaken me for a new bodyguard more than once. And when I introduced myself as the accountant, the men had made joke after joke.

  The most common assumption was that I was in the military, and sometimes that perception worked to my advantage. However, the ideal CIA agent should be able to blend in. My posture shouldn’t scream military here at this club, because that would get me noticed. And I didn’t want to be noticed. I didn’t want anyone remembering that they saw a six-foot-two guy who looked like he was a soldier tonight.

  I made my way to the back patio, where I’d been told to wait. Women swarmed me, but I kept a slight smile on my face and my eyes straight ahead.

  While I waited, I ordered a beer. Eventually, a guy crashed into me, still dancing. “I’m your asset,” he said, still swaying to the beat.

  God help me. I’d had to put up with a lot of nonsense like this in Caracas. This guy was at least thirty-five and had no business being here at this club. But that wasn’t my concern. “Tell me what you know,” I said, leaning in close to him.

  The guy started talking, handing me every detail on a silver platter.

  Back in Santiago, I escorted Kate back to the Laurents’ home. On the doorstep, I kissed her goodbye. “I’m not going to walk you in,” I said.

  “It’s going to be odd not seeing you all day, every day.”

  She was right. We’d both gotten accustomed to being together all the time. I was going to miss her, but I had work to do. Work for the CIA, not my bullshit job with Laurent.

  I went immediately to pick up my secure phone and headed to a park where I could call my supervisor. I filled him in on everything that happened in Paris and in Ireland.

  “I’ll send you some more agents if you need them,” he said. “And I’m going to call the Santiago police and the Chilean Police Force and get them up to speed.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I said. “There’s one more thing. Before we move on Laurent, I need a pickup for his wife, his baby, and his nanny.”

  “You’re sure they’re not involved?” he asked.

  “I’m sure. The wife is a French citizen, and the nanny is an American citizen.”

  He sighed. “Don’t screw this up,” he said. “I’ll get a pickup arranged and get them back in the States with some security for a few weeks. You can handle the rest of the paperwork involved in getting them back home once you’ve wrapped up the operation there.”

  I didn’t look forward to sending Kate back to the States with a military escort while I stayed here, but it was better than leaving her unprotected in Santiago. “I appreciate it, Sir.”

  Nailing Laurent was my priority, but getting Kate safely out of the country before the sting was finished was non-negotiable.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kate

  Once we got back to Santiago, Owen seemed preoccupied and stressed, but not distant. He was busier with work, but still made time to stop by every day.

  Gabriel had started
to walk, so my days were more physically demanding now that he wanted to walk up and down the long hallways and across the big backyard.

  Delighted that I was still seeing Owen, Mrs. Laurent had given me every evening off after six p.m., and on the Thursday after we got back from Europe, Owen showed up after work to pick me up for a date. “I have something different in mind tonight,” he said. “Can you leave the house?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m off work. I can go out.”

  “Okay. We’re going to a shooting range.”

  “What? Why?” I didn’t know anything about guns, and I’d never wanted to. There’d been more than a few shootings in my neighborhood growing up. Most of them had been domestic violence, where a husband or wife shot their spouse. A few had been angry neighbors shooting at each other. “I’ve never even held a gun,” I said.

  He took my hand as we walked to his car. “You should know how to shoot one.”

  “But I’m not going to own a gun here,” I said. “You need a permit in Chile, and as you pointed out, I’m always with Mateo when I leave the house.”

  “What about when you get back to Alabama?”

  “I’m going to be getting my Master’s, not prowling around dark alleys.”

  As always, he opened the passenger side car door for me. “You’ll start working eventually.”

  “I’m hardly going to pull a gun on one of my clients! Owen! This is crazy.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not suggesting you pull a gun on a client, or even carry a weapon. But everyone should know how to handle a gun.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “It would make me feel better,” he said, getting behind the wheel.

  “You’re kinda crazy,” I told him. “But okay. I’ll go to the shooting range with you, but don’t buy me a gun.”

  He grinned as we left the gate that led to the Laurents’ mansion. “You have a deal.”

  I wouldn’t have chosen going to a shooting range for a date, but being with Owen made it better than I’d expected. He’d clearly been here before, because the process of getting signed in and getting our space, our guns and our gear was very smooth.