License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel)

by Robinson, Gina

  The ring was a gorgeous set with a princess-cut diamond worth nearly a quarter-million dollars. Not the kind of thing a girl could easily pawn. And distinctive enough to give her away if she’d tried. Yet the money would have come in handy, especially with the expense of keeping Stone hidden. If not for the Agency footing the bill …

  Not that she could ever part with Rock’s token of love.

  She let Rock hold her hand in the intimate squeeze of his a moment too long. For her own good. She couldn’t let herself latch onto Rock again. She had to think of their son. If she got too close to Rock, she’d be tempted to tell him about Stone. And that would never do.

  She slipped her hand from his and resisted the urge to hold her hand up and admire the ring resting in its rightful place on her finger.

  “Hypnosis is done in steps, Rock. I was drawing you in from the beginning, mesmerizing you, manipulating things. Bending your mind to my will. Love at first sight? Really, I’m surprised a respected member of the magic community would ever believe in such things.” She may have been teasing him, but she was playful and trying to build his trust at the same time. She put a hint of flirt in her voice.

  She waved her hand, admiring the sparkling ring on it. “Your love at first sight was smoke and mirrors. Nothing more than hormones and chemistry. Aided in your case by alcohol, ambience, your favorite perfume heavily laced with pheromones, and a carefully crafted persona of your fantasy girl.

  “You loved how I looked. You loved how I made you feel because I flattered you and played up to you in a way I knew would impress you and turn you on. I’m very good with men.” She watched him closely. He didn’t flinch.

  “You loved the fantasy. It was all pure animal attraction, not real love. That kind of thing doesn’t last a lifetime. It melts quickly, like the ice rose you gave me.

  “What happens when I’m old and gray? Stooped and walk with a walker. When I gain fifty pounds?” She smiled slightly, knowingly, and yet she laced her voice with seduction. “You’re right, Rock. That was all an illusion.”

  “I’ll give you that you looked like my fantasy girl. But it was you I fell in love with. Your soul, your personality, your essence.”

  She shook her head. “Really? You mean you love the girl who coincidentally likes your favorite comedians, TV shows, and movies? Who has so many of the same interests?”

  She leaned into him. “We know everything about you and how to manipulate you with that knowledge. I already told you that’s how I work. That’s my specialty. That’s part of what makes me a good spy.”

  She expected him to get up and storm out. Or maybe disappear in a puff of flash powder. But he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand again, rubbing his thumb over her ring.

  “Baby, I’m pretty good at reading people, too. And knowing what’s genuine and what’s an act. You have never given me enough credit for my mind-reading skills. Believe me when I tell you, I saw the real you. And that’s the woman I love.

  “Imagine,” he said, “what our life could be like if you trusted me with your love. Think of the wonderful times we could have together. You and me, on stage together performing. Touring the world. Seeing places and people. Making love in all kinds of fabulous, romantic locations.” He leaned even closer, so close their noses practically touched and there was no looking away from his gaze.

  “You trusted me once, enough to show me your magic. Remember how you tried to one-up me with little magic tricks the evening we met? Pushing a coin through an ice table, now that’s impressive and takes skill. And guts. Making your number appear on the bottom of my ice glass, that was awesome. Besides someone in the biz, no girl has ever impressed me with her magic like that.

  “You have a real love for it. It takes practice to be as skilled as you are.”

  He was right. She did love magic. The life he painted for them was seductive and enticing.

  “My grandpa was a magician,” she said. “He taught me those tricks and a love for the art. Why do you think I was chosen for the assignment? Most of the girls could have come to Vegas and gone undercover as showgirls. I had skills that no one else had. Another example of how the Agency played you.”

  “Apparently the Agency is a better matchmaker than any online dating service. They matched our points of compatibility completely and perfectly. My compliments to whoever was in charge of the mission. If funding’s ever low, you should suggest NCS make a little money on the side fixing lonely hearts.” He sounded almost genuine with just a small, almost undetectable undertone of hurt in his voice. And maybe a touch of wounded pride. As if he should have sensed a setup, but missed it.

  “You fell in love with the real me, too.” He pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “You may as well admit it. It may have started as an assignment for you, but I turned you on the moment you met me.

  “You didn’t think NCS was finding you your soul mate. They probably didn’t, either. They were so busy making sure you’d turn my head, they never considered what I’d do to you.

  “They made a tactical mistake and forgot to think on all sides. So they completely overlooked the possibility that so closely matching an agent with a target could lead to a dangerous attraction.

  “You should warn them to think about the impact on their agents, Lani. You really should. Otherwise, a breach of national security is inevitable.”

  “It’s a good thing the chief isn’t listening to this little speech of yours,” Lani said. “He’d be furious.”

  Although the chief did fancy himself something of a matchmaker. But never an inadvertent one.

  “Good to know we’re not bugged here in the bedroom.” Rock was serious. “I see now why I couldn’t resist inviting you to try out for the show. Did you get rid of my other girl so there’d be an opening? Suzie had been with me for over five years.”

  “You make it sound like we offed her.” Lani didn’t break eye contact with him. “Her pregnancy was convenient timing for us. But we would have found some way to get me into your show.”

  He bent over and whispered in her ear. “You’re a girl after my own heart. You know, baby, how much successful illusion turns me on. There’s something seductive about it, even when I’m the victim.” He leaned back and looked at her tray. “You aren’t eating?”

  “Our conversation’s been too diverting.”

  He smiled slowly. “Cook will be insulted. Do you remember your first rehearsal with me?”

  “How could I forget? You ordered me into that impossible little box so you could saw me in two. Two very unequal parts—my head and the rest of me.”

  “Everyone these days knows how the illusion is done. That Masked Magician has given away all the basic tricks. I had to put my own new spin on it. Or try. You trusted me enough to give it a try. I’m still impressed when I think of the way you wedged yourself in like you were a master yogi.”

  “You also made me wear an impossibly tiny outfit.”

  “I never said I didn’t like how you looked. Or that your looks aren’t part of the attraction.”

  She shook her head. “It was all a test, wasn’t it? I thought it was a joke. An impossible task. I only wanted to prove you wrong and show you what an arrogant ass you were. Get into that box or lose the gig—right. Still, I couldn’t blow the mission. What would I tell Emmett?

  “Getting out, of course, was the real trick. And the joke was on both of us.” She still remembered the panic of being wedged in that small space, unable to get out. She’d never felt claustrophobic before, even though she’d been in some tight spots during her career.

  The buzz of the saw coming at her didn’t even make her pulse rise. But at the end of the trick, when she was supposed to be put back together, she couldn’t get out of the box. First the latch stuck. And then she was wedged in so tightly she panicked and couldn’t get out.

  The crew tugged on her so hard it felt as if they were wrenching her shoulders out of their sockets. She winced in pain and her legs began to c
ramp. Someone suggested getting a sledgehammer and smashing the box. Someone thought they could soap her up and squirt her out.

  Rock rushed forward. “Leave her alone!” He shooed the crew away. “Oh, baby, this is all my fault,” he whispered to her. “Look, you got in. You can get out.”

  He took her hand, which was flopping like a fish out of the box and turning blue from lack of blood flow. It was cold. She was cold.

  She’d never forget his tone—confident, reassuring, calm. His hand holding hers was so warm and strong. She wanted to get out of the box, but she didn’t want to lose the connection to him.

  “You can do this. Really.” He’d stared into her eyes and spoken in that confident, mesmerizing tone of his. “Just breathe calmly. Relax.”

  She studied Rock closely. “Do you remember what you told me?”

  He laughed. “That next time I’d try a new trick—sawing you in half vertically?”

  “Terrible thing to say. Really bad joke. And yet it worked.”

  “You laughed and relaxed and simply stepped out.” His gaze held hers.

  “Right into your arms.”

  “Perfectly safe. And we did that act time after time without a problem. Admit it. Challenge excites you.”

  “I’m not admitting anything. But if that box had been half an inch smaller…” She set the tray of cold breakfast aside.

  He took her hand again and held her gaze. “Imagine trusting me like that again, Lani. Remember the feeling of comfort and peace as I held your hand. Just like I am now. Take a deep breath, baby. Relax.”

  She felt the tension leaving her body. A sense of peace washed over her. He was right. She should trust him and relax.

  He squeezed her hand again and held it tightly. “There you are. Let the tension flow out of your body. Picture yourself in a pleasant spring meadow. Blue skies. Flowers. The peaceful sounds of birds chirping.

  “Do you feel relaxed, Lani?”

  She nodded. She did. She felt more relaxed and peaceful than she had in ages.

  “Good. Good. You trust me?”

  She nodded again.

  “Yes? Good. Keep picturing that meadow and how freeing it is. How light you feel there. Telling the truth makes you feel light and free.”

  She nodded again.

  “There’s something you want to tell me, isn’t there?” Rock’s voice sounded far away and soothing. “A burden you’re carrying, a dark secret. Share it with me now, baby. Free yourself. What are you keeping from me?”

  The doorbell rang, piercing irritatingly through her calm meadow.

  “Son of a bitch!” She threw her arm back and slapped Rock with all her might.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rock rubbed his cheek, which stung like hell. Almost as badly as his pride. Lani had really whacked him. Caught him off guard, damn it. He’d gotten too cocky and forgotten how astute she was. If it hadn’t been for that damn doorbell—

  “Damn it, Rock, you’re good.” Lani’s face was red and her eyes hard and snapping. “Building rapport, establishing trust, switching off my critical mind with imagines and what ifs, and then making the irresistible command. You were using covert hypnosis on me, you bastard.”

  “Turnabout is fair play,” he said. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you doing the same thing.”

  She glared at him. “What is it you want to know? Why don’t you just ask me?”

  He glared back. He had to proceed carefully here. He couldn’t tell her the most important thing he’d been trying to get out of her, which was whatever she’d been hiding from him from the beginning. He still hoped to seduce that out of her somehow or hope his PI found something out. Which left him only one believable option. He was going to have to look like an asshole and ask the other thing straight out. “Fine. You want blunt questions, here goes—did you sleep with Sol the night before the show?”

  She held his gaze, but she looked amazingly unsurprised by the question. “No. Now was that so hard? Really, Rock, we’re going to have to learn how to communicate. Without subterfuge and trickery.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” he said. “I don’t believe you, baby. You’re too damn good with a lie.”

  She cocked her head. She didn’t look the least bit sorry for slapping him. If anything, she looked as if she wished she’d hit him harder and a bit like a cobra ready to strike again.

  He involuntarily leaned back out of her arm’s reach.

  She sighed. “See, trust issues. This is exactly one of the problems with the secret agent profession. No one believes you when you’re telling the truth.” She pursed her lips. “What even gave you that idea? Has Sol been bragging?”

  Rock stared at her. Why would she ask the question if she wasn’t guilty?

  “He has.” She sounded resigned. “Let me reiterate—I did not sleep with that piece of human debris. Nor would I ever. I, and you’re not going to believe me, you didn’t believe me the first time, but I hypnotized him and implanted the suggestion that we’d done the deed. Very pleasurably and to his slimy, perverted tastes.” She shuddered. “I guess he’s like a lot of men. Promise a woman anything to get her into bed and then discard her after. Or kill her. Well, what do you expect from maniacal villains, after all?”

  Rock studied her. She sounded sincere. She looked genuine. Her involuntary reactions all spoke of truth. But hypnotizing Sol?

  Lani leaned toward Rock. He lurched backward, nearly losing his perch on the bed.

  She laughed and shook her head. “I have my revenge, though. Sol will be unable to perform next time he’s in the mood. And every time after. Until I remove the hypnotic suggestion of impotence. Fortunately, that suggestion seemed to stick. He must really have impotency issues.”

  Lani reached out and this time very gently stroked Rock’s stinging cheek. “Don’t listen to rumors, Rock. Memories and gossip can be so unreliable.”

  There was a knock on the door. Rock swung around to look. Tate stood in the doorway. “Everything okay up here?”

  “Fine,” Lani said. “No thanks to you.”

  Tate grinned and ignored her complaint. “Great. Time to get cracking on the big mission. Oh, and Lani, better freshen up a bit. Maybe put on clothes that don’t look like you slept in them. There’s a cop downstairs who wants to talk about what you saw that night two years ago.”

  * * *

  While Lani was being grilled by the cop, and playing the innocent, Rock got a text from Davo, his PI guy.

  I found something. Meet me at my office.

  Finally. Rock texted back that he was on his way. He slid off his spy ring, replaced it with the original non-spy version, and stashed the one NCS had given him in his drawer before heading downstairs. He didn’t need Tate following him where he was going.

  Tate caught Rock in the entryway just as Rock was about to leave. “Going somewhere?”

  “Business calls.”

  “And you weren’t going to tell us?”

  “I wasn’t aware I was under house arrest.” Rock grinned at Tate, trying not to show how excited he was by Davo’s text and hoping to divert Tate’s suspicions. “Would you believe I have a show to plan for? Business managers to meet. Contracts to sign. Contractors to speak with?”

  “No.” Tate sounded serious, but his eyes twinkled.

  Rock cocked a brow and played along. Tate was teasing and using a bit of Maxwell Smart’s would you believe humor. “How about just a show to run, managers to meet, and contracts to sign?”

  “Fine, Max. Get out of here.” Tate put a hand on Rock’s shoulder. “But be careful. Do you remember what Tal taught you about evasive action and losing a tail?”

  “Yeah, I do. And if that doesn’t work, I’m pretty good with flash powder.”

  Tate laughed. “Good man. Just remember, this isn’t a game. RIOT is watching you and wants you dead.”

  “Got it.” Rock pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Tate handed him the long-ha
ndled bomb-checking mirror that had been resting against the console table in the entry. “Don’t forget to wand the car after your meeting.” Tate paused. “You know, the problem these days—assassins can remotely activate bombs. Gone are the days when they had to rely on the ignition triggering it.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance.” Rock grabbed the mirror. “Later.”

  As Rock pulled out of the driveway, he activated the GPS spoofing device he’d purchased on the black market from one of his shadier casino friends on a lark way before Lani had come back. Never know when a gadget like that will come in handy. Let NCS believe he was at the hotel. The last thing Rock needed was them finding him across town at a PI’s office.

  Fifteen minutes later, after doing a little evasive action driving just for fun, Rock parked on the street in front of Davo’s office. The PI’s business was located in a flat, one-story building next to a popular and busy pawnshop. There was absolutely nothing remarkable looking about the building on the best of days. A few palms provided shade along the street. You were lucky if you found a shady spot. Rock wasn’t.

  Davo’s car was in its customary spot next to the building beneath a RESERVED FOR PRIVATE DICKS sign. The usual blast of hot air hit Rock as he got out of his car. Temperatures were already climbing toward one hundred.

  Being associated with spies had made Rock jumpy. He looked over his shoulder. As a magician, he was trained to watch for tricks and shadows, subtle movements, and diversionary tactics. Everything looked clear to him and there was nowhere for an enemy agent to hide between Rock’s car and the door. A sniper, of course, was another matter.

  Davo’s administrative assistant only worked two days a week. She wasn’t in and the office was terrifyingly quiet as Rock entered.

  “Davo, buddy? Where are you man—” Rock froze on the edge of a sticky puddle on the floor that oozed out from behind Davo’s desk. It took a second for it to register what the puddle was.