A Covert Affair

by Katie Reus

  In the kitchen just Cade was waiting. Maria and Elliott must have already got in the SUV.

  He nodded once at Amelia. “You’re ready for this.” A statement, full of authority.

  “You know it.” Her voice was strong now.

  Thank God. Nathan squeezed her shoulder once. “We’ve got your back.” He needed to remind her just one more time, more for himself than for her.

  She smiled, the relief in her eyes the last thing he saw before he and Cade exited as quietly as they’d come. Now they just had to wait to see how her date went. If she got the invite, it would be time for the next stage. If Mercado invited her over to his place tonight, they were ready for that too. Though Nathan hated the idea of her going over there after a date. He hated the idea of her going there at all.

  Shaking himself, he put all that away. It was game time. Amelia was depending on his team to have her back. That meant he had to be completely focused.

  Amelia glanced at her phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. Mercado would be here soon, so she needed to stop fidgeting. It was hard, though, when all she could think about was this stupid date. Well, that and the way Nathan had kissed her.

  And how she’d kissed him back. It had felt too natural being in his arms again, flicking her tongue against his. Her body was primed for him, her nipples hard against her bra cups. Not the best timing, she chastised herself. And not the best idea. Once she confessed everything to him, things would be different between them. He probably wouldn’t even want to be in her life again, let alone kiss her.

  Her cell rang in her hand, making her heart rate kick up ten notches. She cursed herself for the jumpy reaction. When she saw the number for Plátanos Maduros, her stomach rumbled. She’d been too nervous to eat much, and right now she could definitely go for some comfort food. Her second restaurant was known for the various ways they cooked plantains, hence the name. She wanted more of those empanadas. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Amelia, it’s Sylvia.” One of her managers, and her tone was stressed.

  The busy sound of the restaurant filled the background, so Amelia knew she was likely using the phone behind the bar or near the hostess stand. And Sylvia didn’t call unless it was necessary. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. . . .” She sighed. “I know you’re going on a date tonight, but I just wanted to let you know that Tessa didn’t show up this afternoon. I’ve been trying to get a hold of her the past couple hours, but she’s not picking up. Her phone rings but no answer.”

  Amelia’s doorbell rang, making her cringe. Talk about timing. She headed for the living room, her heels softly clicking against the wooden floor as she crossed the foyer. Nerves danced in her stomach. “Have any of the girls said anything?” she asked as she opened the door to find Mercado standing there.

  Dressed in casual slacks and a blue button-down shirt, he looked handsome and put together as usual. She was just thankful Nathan and his team were listening; it eased the knot inside her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, stepping back and motioning him inside as Sylvia continued.

  “Yeah, no one knows anything.”

  “Did you talk to Jonas?” She shut the door behind Mercado, not sure if he’d want a drink before they left or not. The only good thing about getting a work call was that she didn’t have time to be stressed about Mercado anymore.

  “No, why would I?”

  Jonas was one of her guys who worked in the back. “I caught them making out in the parking lot a few days ago. I think they might be an item so check with him. Can you cover for her tonight?”

  “Yeah, we’ll pick up the slack, no problem. I just wanted to let you know. She probably just flaked or fell asleep. I know she picked up an extra class this semester and it’s been stressing her out.”

  Tessa wasn’t the type to flake out, but . . . she was in college and young. Amelia would give her a break. “Thanks. I’ll try to call her tomorrow. Text me with any more issues, but I’m turning my phone to silent after this.”

  “Okay, and sorry for bothering you tonight.”

  As soon as they disconnected, Amelia smiled apologetically at Mercado. “I’m so sorry. I got a work call right as you arrived, but the phone is off for the evening, so I’m all yours.”

  His smile was charming and just a little heated. “I like the sound of that.” That was heat in his voice too. “Is everything okay at work?”

  “Oh yeah, just employee stuff. When you hire teenagers or college-age kids, you have to expect certain things.” She gave a light laugh, thankful it didn’t sound forced. If she treated this as a normal date, she’d be fine. “Did you want a drink before we leave?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I have a small change of plans.”

  She picked up her purse on the foyer table and slid her phone into it. If Mercado planned to kidnap someone, she didn’t fit the bill of the type of women being taken. She had roots and people had seen her out with him before. No, she wouldn’t be a target. “Oh?”

  “If it’s all right, I’d like to cook for you tonight. I don’t want to seem presumptuous or for you to assume I’m inviting you to my home for anything else other than dinner, but I did promise I’d cook last time we went out. I’m not as good as you no doubt are, but . . .” He smiled that easy smile again, lifting his shoulders. “My daughter tells me I’m decent.”

  Holy hell. She’d gotten an invite to his house without even having to try. Blood rushed in her ears for a moment, but she found her voice and nodded. “That sounds great. I’m ready. Just let me set the alarm.” She set it to away mode and as the beeping countdown started, she opened the front door for them.

  After she locked up, she turned to find him waiting on the doorstep, his arm slightly bent for her, so she linked hers through his. A twinge of guilt threaded through her, but she squashed it immediately. It wasn’t as if she and Nathan were in a relationship or anything and this date wasn’t real.

  As they strode down her walkway to his waiting car, she realized someone was holding the back door open for them. She almost jerked in surprise but caught herself. Of course he would have a driver. She’d met him at the auction, so she hadn’t known, but she shouldn’t be surprised. If she had to guess, this guy was his security more than a driver. Nerves started to dance along her spine. Not because her inner voice told her that something was off, but because she knew he was a suspect in mass kidnappings and likely slave trade. Her gut told her differently, but . . . she’d been wrong before.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said once they were in the backseat. The leather was smooth against her legs. She was so damn thankful Nathan was listening in right now. It made this easier to do—made her feel less vulnerable.

  His lips quirked slightly. “Oh?”

  “When I told you I Googled you, I read an article about your home on one of those architectural sites. I think it was a reference to the previous owner?” She phrased it as a question even though she knew the answer. Cade and Nathan had told her she needed to sprinkle lies and truths to make things believable and turn things in the direction she wanted them to go. She hoped he picked up her thread of conversation.

  He nodded, relaxing against the seat and turning his body toward her so she had his full attention. She still couldn’t see him as a kidnapper. “It’s one of the reasons I bought it. I like the privacy of Star Island, but the customizations made it move-in ready for me.”

  Star Island was a private, very exclusive neighborhood in Miami Beach. “If you’ll indulge me with a tour before you cook, I’d be in heaven.” It would be the perfect way for her to get access to all the rooms, or at least close enough to the one that Nathan’s team needed. They’d shown her a floor plan so she knew where she needed to be. And if he gave her a tour when they first arrived, it wouldn’t seem weird if she had her purse with her. If he gave her one after dinner, it might seem odd if she picked up her purse and carried it around.

  “I’ll indulge anything you want.”
His voice dropped an octave as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.

  She froze for a moment, wondering if he planned to kiss her, and had to fight back a sigh of relief when he let his hand drop. She definitely wasn’t cut out for this undercover business. It was too nerve-racking.

  She hoped that Elliott got whatever it was he needed from Iker’s computer, because she didn’t want to have to go through another date again.

  “She’s doing great.” Elliott gave a nod of approval as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “And, as we suspected, Mercado has a guy scoping out your ‘home’ right now. Check it out.” He pulled up another screen showing images of video feeds from the place the NSA had set up as Miguel Ortiz’s Miami home base.

  Mercado had already done one search after Nathan had reached out to him, which made sense, considering “Miguel” wanted to do business with him—but that was before Nathan had made a move on Amelia. Now it appeared the man had decided to do another check. Mercado had already run the financials of Nathan’s alias, along with reaching out to people Miguel had worked with in the past. He came up exactly as he was supposed to. A businessman interested in real estate and smuggling on the side. All hidden well enough under respectable businesses. Similar to Mercado.

  “Not gonna find anything,” he muttered, listening to the conversation between Mercado and Amelia. The guy was too smooth. And there had been a pause in their conversation, as if that bastard had kissed Amelia.

  The thought made Nathan want to grind his teeth. He was glad they didn’t have video right now. He didn’t need to see her out with someone else who wanted her as badly as Nathan did. Well, not as badly. No one else could want her that much. As Elliott worked, Nathan pulled out his cell phone and called Burkhart.

  His boss was working on multiple things right now, but this op was a priority. He answered on the first ring. “How’s your girl doing?”

  She wasn’t his girl, even if he wanted her to be. And he knew Wesley didn’t mean it that way. Hell, he shouldn’t even be thinking in those terms. “Solid. Got an invite to the house tonight, so we’re moving forward. The target wants to cook for her.” He kept his voice devoid of too much emotion. He’d promised Burkhart that his history with Amelia wouldn’t interfere with anything, and he had to keep that promise.

  “That’s great. You, Cade, and Dax are on standby as the backup team if anything goes wrong. I’ll send three more guys your way, but if things sound like they’re getting hot, use operational latitude.”

  “Affirmative.” Some of his tension eased as they disconnected. He hoped they wouldn’t need the backup, but he was glad to have it.

  “Since we know their destination I’m going to take an alternative route to the neighborhood,” Dax said, glancing at them in the rearview mirror. “Don’t want anyone to spot us.”

  Under normal circumstances it would have been difficult to infiltrate the gated neighborhood, but Maria had called in a favor—or her father had. One of his clients had an empty house in Star Island. It was on the market, but the real estate industry was bad now, especially for a house selling in the millions. So it was sitting empty and Nathan’s team was using it as a base.

  It was close enough to where Amelia would be that Nathan wasn’t completely out of his mind. Still, seconds counted in matters of life and death, and if God forbid something went wrong . . . he’d do everything in his power to save her.

  Chapter 9

  Dry clean: actions operatives take to determine if they are under surveillance or bugged.

  Standing on a plain rectangular desk, Tessa reached up, skimming her fingers over the lower edge of the window where the two panes met. Even standing on the desk, the window was too high. She could feel the outline of a lock, tried to move it, but it wouldn’t budge. Next she tried to grasp the bottom lip of the lower half of the window, but of course it didn’t move either. Not when it was locked.

  She couldn’t stay here—wherever here was. All she remembered was the horror of waking up to a gloved hand over her mouth and the face of a man who looked positively gleeful. Maybe a little insane. She’d started to scream when a jolt of pain had shot through her. After that she couldn’t remember anything.

  She’d woken up in this room that looked a little bit like a hospital room. But it wasn’t. She’d tried the door and found it locked. She’d banged on it and shouted for help until someone told her to be quiet for her own safety. A female voice from nearby had said it with urgency; with fear.

  Tessa had listened.

  All she knew at this point was that she’d been taken from her home in the middle of the night and was someone’s prisoner. Her pajamas were still on and it was dark outside, so she didn’t think that much time had passed. And she didn’t think she’d been sexually assaulted. Didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen. She might just be a freshman in college, but she was a criminal justice major and knew what kind of horrors were out there. Not firsthand, but she wasn’t completely naive. Besides, she watched the freaking news.

  A shudder skittered through her, but she brushed it off. She needed to find a way out. Or a weapon. Since the window exit wasn’t working out, she got off the table and slid onto the tiled floor. It was cold beneath her bare feet.

  The door handle rattled. Fear detonated inside her, making her freeze up. A moment later a man wearing scrubs walked in pushing a small rolling cart. He was only a couple of inches taller than her, maybe five feet eight. He had dark hair and a clean-shaven face and his expression was neutral. He propped the door open and for a moment she fantasized about ramming into him, using the cart to knock him down so she could make a break for it.

  Those thoughts died when another man—the man who’d taken her—stepped into the doorway behind the one in scrubs. Though his expression didn’t change, his eyes had a wild quality to them.

  She belatedly noticed he had a gun in a holster on his hip.

  Before a deeper fear could take root, the shorter man spoke. “You will take these twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. You’ll take them with your food.” He held up a capped bottle and rattled it slightly. Then he motioned to the small refrigerator she’d seen earlier, but hadn’t opened. “There is water and multivitamin juice inside. I will bring you food in the morning and you will get exercise and time outside if you behave.”

  Behave? Like what, this was prison? Fear slid through her, the iciness making her muscles turn rigid.

  “The television also works,” he said, nodding at it. “If you break it, you won’t get another one, so don’t be foolish. If you want books or magazines, let me know. And don’t ask any questions right now. You came in later than expected and I’m tired. If you insist on harassing me with questions or pleas for freedom, I’ll lock him in here with you.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the man who’d kidnapped her, his eyes completely devoid of emotion. “Be smart, get some sleep, and we will discuss your new home in the morning.”

  Tessa wondered what was worse, the lack of emotion or the hint of crazy she saw in the man with the gun. In the end, she didn’t care. She just wanted to be left alone so she could break down without an audience. Tears threatened, but she ruthlessly shoved them back. So she nodded and took the bottle from the man. He picked up the covered tray and set it on the desk before quietly exiting with the other man.

  The door shut and was locked from the outside, the snicking sound making her nauseated. At least she was alone. But she had no idea what was going on, who these people were, or why they’d taken her. About a dozen horrific scenarios raced through her mind, all the horror movies she loved so much coming back to haunt her in vivid detail.

  Terrified but exhausted, she dimmed the lights and made her way to the twin bed in the corner of the sterile room. She doubted she’d be able to sleep but got under the white sheet anyway and curled on her side. Though she tried to hold them back, she let her tears fall, hot an
d wet, against the pillow. She wondered what the hell those pills were. Maybe something to make her more compliant. God, she couldn’t even think about that right now. All she knew was that she wouldn’t simply go along with whatever they wanted.

  Amelia tried not to fidget with her purse or act as if she couldn’t wait to get home while Mercado’s driver steered down her street. Mercado had given her a tour of his house—and it was amazing—before dinner. And dinner had been lovely, Mercado the perfect host. It was so hard to imagine that he was involved in kidnapping and selling women. She knew monsters could have all sorts of faces, but her gut didn’t tell her to run from him. Her survival instincts were strong too. They’d been honed at a young age. God, she’d been . . . six when one of her mother’s clients tried to touch her. From that moment on, she’d quickly learned to read people and situations. So it bothered her that she didn’t get a bad vibe from Mercado.

  She wished she’d had a way to communicate with Nathan to find out if his team had managed to hack into Mercado’s computer system. Elliott hadn’t known how long it would take to use her cell phone as a gateway, so she had no idea if her being in Mercado’s house had even helped the operation.

  When they pulled into her driveway, Mercado got out, not waiting for his driver—who wasn’t making a move to get out anyway. Instead Mercado held out a hand for Amelia as she slid from the vehicle. The fear she’d felt before dinner was gone, but nerves still skittered through her. She just wanted to get inside and be alone—and, okay, contact Nathan. Not just because she wanted to see how the operation had gone either; she wanted to hear his voice. That kiss he’d given her earlier made her heart rate kick up just thinking about it. And she didn’t want Mercado to try to kiss her.

  “I had a very nice time tonight.” Mercado’s voice brought her back to the present, forcing thoughts of Nathan to the back burner.