Special Investigations Agency: Primordial

by Denise A. Agnew

  His brows creased as he sipped coffee. “I can analyze that for you.”

  She didn’t expect him to say that. “Oh?”

  “You want guidance and you also fear your own aggression. Or you fear my aggression.”

  His quick explanation for the dream kept her quiet for a moment while she absorbed the possibility. She said the only thing she could think of. “Very interesting.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I don’t think dreams are that easily dissected. What qualifies you to analyze them anyway? Do you have a degree in psychology?”

  His grin went broad and challenging. “Actually, yes. I have a Bachelor’s in Criminology and a Master’s in Psychology from Georgetown University.”

  Okay, she could be impressed now. Feeling out of sorts because she’d underestimated him, she said, “How did you manage it if you were gallivanting around the world playing secret agent man?”

  “I did it all before I became an agent. I always knew I wanted work like this, so I jumped right into the degree programs straight out of high school. When I finished the bachelor’s I kept going. Took me about five years in an accelerated format to get both degrees.”

  “You must have been a young agent.”

  He nodded and took another gulp of coffee. “I was twenty-four when the agency recruited me. I’m thirty-three now.”

  She didn’t expect plain chitchat with him to be interesting, but at the same time, she discovered she liked learning more about him. Talking about everyday things served to distract her some from his looming masculinity.

  He put the coffee cup down and headed back into the bathroom. “I need to get dressed so you can get a shower.”

  As he walked away she realized his erection had calmed down; the damned man didn’t seem the least embarrassed about walking around the room with a serious hard-on.

  She lay back on the bed with a sigh and closed her eyes as the bathroom door shut. Was she destined to be in a permanent state of arousal around him? God, she hoped not.

  When he came out of the bathroom a short time later, she’d opened her suitcase and started removing items. She turned when he came into the room and her jaw dropped before she could stop it.

  The man had looked like sin on two legs when half naked. Wearing a pewter gray silk polo shirt and dark slate slacks, Zane looked delicious. Either his clothing allowance at the SIA was generous or he had enough money to buy the best.

  A quirk of his eyebrow said he could tell she liked what she saw. Disconcerted, she grabbed her makeup kit and started toward the bathroom.

  “Did you look in the walk-in closet and dressing area earlier?” he asked.

  “No. I collapsed and went to sleep.”

  He hitched a thumb that direction. “Check it out.”

  Curious, she walked into the expansive marble and tiled rose-colored room and trekked into the huge closet. When she flipped on the light, she gasped. He’d said the agency provided appropriate attire. Appropriate must mean designer. She investigated the labels on his clothes and found Armani and Murano with some Ralph Lauren thrown in for good measure. Her clothes featured three or four designers as well as workhorse garments designed for the jungle. Six dazzling evening ensembles caught her eye. They looked too fancy, based on what he wore, to be right for this evening.

  “Having trouble deciding?” he asked from the doorway.

  She threw him a cautionary glance. “Go away. You’re disturbing my concentration.”

  He laughed and the deep tone made new shivers run over her body. Her stomach heated. After he closed the door she put her makeup kit on the large double sink area. Oh yes, this closet full of clothes looked like most women’s fantasies. In some ways this entire situation presented itself like a dream. What woman wouldn’t want a tall, dark, handsome man, a swanky hotel, and a closet bursting with expensive clothes?

  She made a decision right then. She could play a role, a part in this strange and complicated setup. It might be the only way to survive.

  When Keira left the bathroom a while later, cleansed of travel grime, she did so with attitude. She walked with a confidence she didn’t feel and an expression she hoped showed indifference to what anyone thought.

  The royal emerald green dress, a sleeveless silky number that clung to her curves without remorse and flowed down to her calves with a sweep, felt wonderful against her skin. It didn’t matter that the neckline plunged or the push-up bra she’d chosen from the selection in the closet gave her a rack to die for. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t worn a garter belt, stockings and high heels in ages. She’d totter along on the strappy green sandals if it killed her.

  Zane watched a Spanish newscast, attention glued to the television until she sauntered out. His eyes widened as his gaze roamed over her body with an intensity she found disconcerting.

  “My God,” he said his voice husky and low. “You’re beautiful.”

  Pleasure sluiced through her, even though she’d tried not to care. How could she help it when he looked at her like that? “Thank you.”

  His admiration stirred something deeper and more primitive inside Keira. Warm, liquid satisfaction stirred, an ancient tribute to sexual awareness. He walked toward her, a ravenous adoration sliding over his handsome features. Before she could move he reached up and touched a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers a second before releasing it. She’d styled her hair in record time, deciding the unruly mane curling about her shoulders disliked the humidity. She’d tried taming the brown strands into her usual flipped-up-in-back style and succeeded somewhat but not enough for her satisfaction.

  No time to be vain. Again, she reminded herself she didn’t care if he liked what he saw.

  Yeah. Right.

  Again he stood close, his body heat warming her through. “I’m afraid to take you out to dinner.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze dropped to her cleavage, then skipped to her face. “Because the men around here appreciate a beautiful woman. I’ll make sure I stay close.” He turned away quickly, as if searching for restraint, and headed for the coat closet. “That engagement ring on your finger is dazzling as is, but you need more jewelry.”

  She glanced at the sparkling ring. The pinpoints of light dancing off the spectacular ring could stop traffic. “The ring and this dress should be enough.”

  He unlocked the safe and brought out a jewelry box, this one a lot bigger than the ring box. He opened it.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Please tell me this stuff isn’t real either.”

  He winked and drew out a two carat emerald and matching emerald earrings nestled in a metal that looked like platinum. “It isn’t real.”

  “Good. The tourist books I read said we shouldn’t flaunt our wealth.”

  “We’re not typical tourists,” he said softly. “Think of us as spoiled and hedonistic. Haan expects it so we’ll act the part. Remember, we don’t want him to think we’re particularly intelligent, just filthy rich and ready to buy whatever he has to sell.”

  Act the part again. Well, she could do that. Maybe.

  “Like I said, when we go out, stick close to me. The restaurant we’re going to caters to affluent clientele and it has security, but it’s always better to be careful.” He handed her the earrings. “Here put these on while I fasten the necklace.”

  Before she could tell him she’d do it herself, he went behind her and slipped the necklace around her throat. His fingers brushed the back of her neck, and she had difficulty concentrating as she took off her plain gold ball earrings and put on the emeralds. When his warm palms eased over her shoulders and squeezed, she twitched in surprise.

  “Easy. I don’t bite.” Amusement slipped into the velvet quality of his voice. Despite what he said, the seduction in his tone made it hard to think straight. “At least not until I’m asked.”

  As he returned to stand in front of her, she shook her head. “Why don’t I believe you?”

&nb
sp; “Because you seem afraid of me. Are you?”

  How did she answer and sound confident? She took a deep breath and made sure to look right into the depths of his dark eyes. “See this situation from my perspective. I’ve been thrust into this international intrigue with a moment’s notice and into strange surroundings. I’m supposed to play fiancée to a man I don’t know. Most women would be apprehensive.”

  She saw struggle in his eyes, as if he wanted to reassure her but held back. His gaze cooled, the banked heat she’d seen sizzling around the edges diminished. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed.

  “Whatever you do, take this assignment very seriously.” Looking invincible, he put his hands on his hips. “The men we’ll be dealing with are nasty characters in every sense of the word. Haan has thugs posted all around this city. It’s one of the reasons we can’t let our guard down anywhere. We don’t act the part, don’t keep on watch every moment, we get dead real fast.”

  Hard-edged, his words held the nuance of anger, as if she’d done something to piss him off. His ire served to remind her she didn’t like him or the circumstances. Good. She needed a reality check.

  “Before we leave we have to make sure we know more about each other, remember?” he asked. “Have a seat and relax. There’s a little time before Eduardo shows up.”

  She settled into the chair near the living area and waited, unsure where to start. He followed by sitting in the chair across from her.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know about you, and you can fill in the blanks,” he said.

  A tiny alarm went off in her head. Not that it surprised her he might know a lot about her, but she feared what he’d discovered through the SIA. “Fair enough.”

  He relaxed into the chair, and she envied the easy way he seemed to chill out no matter what. How did a man who bristled with such forceful energy calm down?

  “Your full name is Keira Marie Jessop. You’re thirty years old.” He leaned forward, as if the next piece of information was juicy. “Your eyes are brown, but they’re golden enough to be called amber.”

  She stiffened a little, surprised he’d called her eyes amber. Friends and family described her eye color that way, but she didn’t expect a stranger to comment on it.

  “You’ve lived in London off and on for four years. During the time you live in England you reside in a posh old home in Kensington with your grandfather. You’re a native of San Francisco. Your mother, Diana Makepeace Jessop had a rocky relationship with her parents. Diana rarely speaks to Aloysius Makepeace, and she didn’t go to your grandmother’s funeral last month.”

  At his words resentment and hurt she’d been trying to forget reared and took charge. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to go into it.”

  He put his hands up in a placating gesture. “No problem. I’m just telling you what I know.

  “Your mother was a homemaker her whole life and your father was a cop until he retired a few years back. Your relationship with them is also uneasy. You have three younger siblings, Catrina, Anita, and Albert, all adopted.” He leaned back once again, those long legs spread in a gesture both casual and almost sexual. “You rarely drink, but when you do, you prefer a good Burgundy or Chianti. Your hobbies include knitting, reading, and scented candles. You played soccer in college and like to watch it on TV. You love harpsichord and organ music.”

  When he stopped she waited a bit before speaking. Her emotions flittered in disarray. Part of her wanted to be angry he knew this much, but when it came down to it, he didn’t know everything. Not the important bits, anyway.

  “That’s very personal information.”

  “You’re surprised I know this much?”

  “No. Just a little annoyed that a person’s life can’t be private anymore.” She shrugged. “You know more, but you’re not telling.”

  “True. But the list of what I know about you could go on a long time.”

  “Does the SIA investigate all their agents to this length?”

  “Of course. We also receive extensive psychological evaluations before we’re hired.” He smiled. “You were an exception since they didn’t have time for it.”

  Still jet-lagged and growing crabbier by the second, she said, “You’re lying, Zane. If you didn’t think I could lead you to this octagon artifact because I’m in league with Haan, they would have evaluated me, too. As it is, the SIA didn’t care.”

  Zane leaned forward again, his obsidian gaze locking with hers. “Whether you like what the SIA has done or not, now is not the time to hold resentments. We need each other to survive. I need you to trust me every step of the way.”

  She scrubbed her fingers through her hair in frustration, aware the motion had mucked up her hairstyle. “If you were me, would you trust an SIA agent you ran into in Egypt a month ago during a shootout? Would you trust the man who spied on you and took photographs with the intention of incriminating you to the authorities?”

  He drew in a hefty breath, his stern air but unwavering. “I was doing my job then, and I’m doing my job now.” For a second a flicker of uncertainty seemed to gather in his eyes. “What do I have to do to gain your trust?”

  Good question. “Get me through this alive maybe? That would be great for starters.” She sighed. “Haan already must know who I am. Isn’t he going to be suspicious of me? I’m Aloysius Makepeace’s granddaughter.”

  “Yes, he knows who you are, but he probably doesn’t know about your love life. Did Hollister ever come to your grandfather’s home in London?”

  “No.”

  “Did your grandfather ever talk to Hollister at length about you?”

  “I doubt it, but I don’t know. My grandfather doesn’t even know I’m doing this.”

  “We want to keep it that way. What was your excuse for leaving England?”

  She stood up and headed to the refrigerator, her mouth feeling dry again. Once she’d retrieved a new bottle of water, she took a large swig. “I told him I’d be on a dig in Montana. A very inaccessible part of Montana for two weeks with no way to reach me. Even cell phones don’t work there. That’s what I told my parents, too. You don’t understand how hard it was to lie to them. Especially Grandfather. He’s fragile right now.”

  Concern crossed his face. She didn’t expect for him to care about her feelings one way or the other. So when he stood and came toward her, she waited to see what he would do. She leaned one hip against the small refrigerator, the bottle of water clutched in her right hand.

  He stopped in front of her and looked her over with the worry of a man for his woman. “You know if there’s anything you want to tell me at any time, you can.”

  Aha. The man was damned perceptive. He might know, just as the SIA might know, that her grandmother’s death was related to Hollister. And now that she knew about Hollister’s connection to Haan, she realized Grandmother’s death might have been ordered by Haan alone.

  She must protect Grandfather somehow, and if that meant getting Haan off his back, she would. What if she confessed all to Zane and he turned out not to be trustworthy? What if he did not only his duty to his country, but sacrificed her and her family in the process? She couldn’t trust him.

  The phone rang, breaking the heavy silence. He moved to the bedside table and picked up the telephone on the second ring. “Eduardo. Excellent. We’ll be right down.” When he hung up the phone, he said, “I called him when you were in the shower. He’s waiting for us.”

  She rushed back into the closet and transferred some items to the small matching green, silver-beaded silk clutch she’d found to accompany the dress.

  Zane entered the bathroom behind her and adjusted the collar on his polo shirt. “Remember one thing. Play the part. Whatever you do, if I touch you don’t flinch away.”

  She left the closet and shut the door. “I see how this is. You want to be able to play footsy without me objecting. Haven’t you ever heard of couples that don’t get along?”

  He turned
back to her, his eyes concentrated with determination. “No. I don’t want Haan thinking he can come between us. This man is dirtier and far more sinister than you could imagine. He wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate you if he thought it would get him something.”

  She sniffed. Secret agent man would try about anything to keep her in a neat, tight little box following his directions to the letter. “Who says he can manipulate me?”

  “This isn’t a game, Keira. He’s powerful, ruthless, and very canny.” He rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “He’s unpredictable, but he’d probably try and seduce you. Be friendly but let him know you’re in love with me. Do everything to assure him through your actions and deeds that I’m the only man for you.”

  Hearing Zane say you’re in love with me sent a wild thrill through her stomach. All she could do, she decided, was to protect her interests and her grandfather’s wellbeing. If that meant pretending to be sickening-in-love with this man, she’d do it.

  “All right. I’ll play it to the hilt.”

  He smiled and the gentle grin lit up his face and removed darkness from his eyes. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t expect the earnest statement, and it melted a little of the armor residing around her heart. She smiled. “You’re welcome. I think.”

  He left the bathroom and she looked down at the engagement ring again. It felt substantial and way too real. It glittered and sparkled under the artificial light. This ring gave her a chance to glimpse what it might feel like to have a real engagement ring on her finger with the right man next to her.

  As they left the hotel room, renewed nerves knotted her stomach. When they reached the lobby she glanced out the glass entranceway and saw Eduardo parked in the circular drive. He wore chauffeur’s attire and leaned against the back door of a long, white stretch limo. Keira glanced at Zane, but he didn’t seem the least surprised by the setup.

  “A limo?” she asked.

  He clasped her upper arm and leaned down. His warm breath touched her ear and made her quiver. “Eduardo has two jobs.”