Love Another Day

by Gina Robinson

  “Do we?” Tate said, nibbling her neck.

  “Stop it! You’ll give me a hickey and drive Sophia so mad with jealousy she’ll probably slap me.” Mal paused. “The woman’s a bitch. She refused to cooperate with the plan.”

  “Yeah. I gathered,” Tate said. “What went wrong?”

  Mal related the details of her meeting in the bathroom with Sophia. “I don’t trust her. She says she’s afraid, which makes sense. But she seems to be stalling.” Mal paused. “What did you think of her?”

  “She’s not you,” he said, simply.

  Mal took a sip of wine. She wasn’t usually a coward, but she hesitated. Being naked made her vulnerable. “You thought I was her for a minute.” Mal relaxed against him, trying to play it cool.

  He took a deep drink of his wine. “Only because of the damned ribbon around your neck—her ribbon. And only for a fraction of a second. Why were you wearing it? And where and how did you get it?”

  “Did it turn you on?” she asked, evading the question.

  “No. I got turned on when I realized it was you in the bed, not her.”

  “Well, then,” she said, screwing up her courage. “It’s a good thing you weren’t the first one to arrive at the room. She was naked in the bed, waiting for you with nothing but that ribbon on.”

  She felt Tate stiffen in surprise.

  Then he laughed. “Was she? And you ran her off, grabbing her by the ribbon before she escaped?”

  “That’s a better story than the truth. I held a gun on her and politely asked her to leave.”

  “Politely, huh?” He didn’t sound as if he believed her.

  “Mallie is possessive of her Dr. Stevens.” She downed the rest of her wine and reached over the tub to set her glass on the floor.

  He was too tall for the tub. His knees were bent up out of the water. She grabbed his thigh and squeezed, loving the feel of the power of his muscle beneath her grip. Everything about him turned her on.

  “She went without a fuss, then?” His voice was filled with humor.

  “After I filled her in on the new plan and how things were going to work.” She paused. “She tore off her ribbon and threw it on the floor. I thought if she can wrap herself up like a present for you, so can I.”

  He smiled at her and kissed her lightly on the lips, making her shiver in the hot bathwater.

  She paused again, trying to find the right words to express her concern. “The thing is, I got the definite feeling from her that she was more than disappointed about not having her way with you.” Mal shook her head, deep in thought. “I can’t explain it, but it seemed like she had to sleep with you.”

  “A lot of women feel that way.” He wrapped his arm around her.

  She splashed him. “That’s not what I mean. Not in that way.” Mal paused again. “She seemed almost scared when I forced her out. I don’t know, Tate. I don’t like this. It just seems like there’s something more to it. Something we don’t know. I hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the butt.”

  “I hope not, too.” Tate slid his hand into the water between her legs and rubbed her just the way she liked.

  “Not that again.” She spun around to face him, straddling him.

  “Oh, yeah. That. And more.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Waking up next to Tate felt right and too perfect. Malene had never fallen out of love with Tate. Not for a minute. Oh, sure, she hated him at times. Cursed him. Wondered why he couldn’t have been the husband she wanted. But deep down, she loved him. All the rest was simply a cover story that helped her keep going and trying to move on with her life. After all, she was good at cover lives. That was her biz.

  But as she woke, wrapped in his arms, there was no sense of awkwardness. No recrimination. And after she’d seen his initial gut reaction to finding “Sophia” in his bed waiting for him, she was beginning to wonder if she should believe in him again. If he had changed. Because that look on his face said the last thing he wanted to do was sleep with the RIOT agent, beautiful and young as she was. In that respect, it was good that it had been Mal and not Sophia because that look was a potential mission killer.

  But it made Mal incredibly happy. Deep down she believed Tate would have found a way to get out of having sex with Sophia.

  Mal smiled. Tate had been desperate for sex with her and his enthusiasm genuine. As she leaned up on an elbow to study him, he woke.

  “What time is it?” He shielded his eyes from the sunlight filtering in through the curtains. It came up early this time of year.

  “Time to start the day.” She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

  He smiled. “I hope that means a joint shower.” He gave her a sexy, sleepy grin.

  The thought made her tingle and silenced the urge to talk about what had happened between them last night and that “I love you” he’d spoken. Better to go with the flow.

  As she leaned over to stroke his chest and kiss him, someone banged on the door, startling them both.

  “Dr. Stevens! Dr. Stevens! I must speak with you. Are you in?”

  Sophia!

  Tate stared at Mal as a quick look of disappointment flashed across his face. “Coming!” he yelled back to Sophia, motioning for Mal to get into the bathroom and get some clothes on.

  She made a dash for it as he rolled out of bed and struggled into a pair of pants. Mal grabbed a robe and slid into the bathroom, closing the door behind her just as Tate removed the barricade and opened the door to the room.

  Mal couldn’t see a thing, but she pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear something and cursing Sophia’s timing. She was tired of that woman, really tired of her.

  Mal strained to hear, but all that got through was worried murmuring. She thought Sophia was crying. RIOT operatives crying? That either meant things were dire, or she was faking it for some reason. Mal wouldn’t put anything past Sophia.

  Tate said something. A second later, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Mal? Can you come out here? We have a situation.”

  A situation?

  Mal tucked her robe around her, ran her fingers through her hair to tame it, and came out to find Sophia clinging to Tate like a piece of plastic wrap. Tears stood in her eyes and she looked genuinely afraid.

  Something had gone very wrong. Mal’s gaze darted between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

  “RIOT’s on to her,” Tate said. His voice was tight.

  “On to her?” She stared hard at Sophia. “Are you sure? How do you know? How did they find out?”

  “I’m sure,” Sophia said. “I didn’t do something they wanted me to do. For now, they think I have. But any minute, they will realize they’re mistaken and kill me.”

  Was it Mal’s imagination or did the look Sophia was giving her blame her for Sophia’s failure?

  “What didn’t you do?” Mal asked, wondering why Tate wasn’t jumping in with the third degree.

  “Endanger Tate.” Sophia shot her a look like daggers as she clutched Tate’s arm.

  What have I done? Mal thought.

  From his angle, Tate couldn’t see the way Sophia glared at Mal.

  “How exactly?” Mal persisted.

  “Later. Right now there’s no time.” Sophia was agitated. She really did look scared.

  “We’ll interrogate her later,” Tate said to Mal. “Call Mason. We have to leave now.”

  “Now? How now do you mean?” Mal’s heart sped into wild pounding mode as she grasped to think clearly. She’d been in on her fair share of mission complications, but on the office side, not out in the field.

  “As fast as we can,” Tate said. “Sophia said they’ll be after her any minute, certainly no later than when they expect her for breakfast.”

  Mal bunched her fist. “The best plan is still to sneak her out as me.” She went to her suitcase and grabbed an outfit. “Slight change of cover-story plan, though. Just in case RIOT has noticed the similarity between us”—Mal motioned between her a
nd Sophia—”we shouldn’t cause any alarm bells to go off by giving any indication Dr. Stevens and Mallie plan on leaving.

  “Dr. Stevens and Mallie will have to look as if they’re totally unaware and unconcerned about any danger to Sophia. They’re supposed to be sightseeing this morning. They should proceed as planned.

  “Once you’re out of the hotel, you’ll have to watch for tails and take evasive action. I’ll arrange for a car to be left for you at a location we’ll determine, somewhere close enough you can walk to it, but where RIOT won’t be looking. A carpark at one of the other hotels or a shopping mall. From there you’ll drive to Heathrow and fly out using my assumed identity.

  “Mallie will be dressed casually.” Mal tossed a pair of short shorts and a halter top to Sophia. “Put these on. You can change in the bathroom. Leave your clothes for me.”

  Tate had to give Sophia a hug, a comforting look, and a gentle shove before she got moving and sulkily locked herself in the loo.

  Mal grabbed her phone. “I’ll have to call CIA Travel and change your reservations. You two are going to have to walk out of here boldly, as if you haven’t a care in the world. No fear, not the slightest scent of it. She has to be me.” Mal frowned and glanced at the closed bathroom door. “Do you think she’s up to it?”

  “She has to be. We don’t have a choice.” Tate grabbed Mal’s arm. “What’s your role?”

  “The same as before—I’ll be the decoy—”

  “Like hell!” Tate’s eyes flashed.

  “Don’t use your commanding voice on me.” Mal tried to act calm. “We’re partners. This was always the plan.”

  “It’s too dangerous, especially now.” Tate didn’t change his tone.

  “I have to buy you time.”

  Tate took a deep breath. “If we act fast enough, we won’t need time. We’ll need cover. The plan is basically the same, you and Mason will follow us and ride shotgun.

  “Use your disguise skills,” he said. “Make yourself look like someone else. Sneak out the secret passage and meet Mason out back. Rendezvous with us at the car and follow us out.”

  His concern was sweet. Touching even. “But—”

  “No buts, Mal.” He paused. “I promised you long ago that Kayla wouldn’t lose her daddy. I’ll be damned if I’ll take a chance of her losing her mommy. She needs you more than she needs me.” He held her gaze.

  The look in his eyes and the tenor of his voice gave her a lump in her throat. And something even better—hope.

  She must have looked as if she was acquiescing.

  He dropped her arm. “Let’s move.”

  * * *

  Until this mission, Tate had forgotten how amazing Mal was at creating covers and disguises. She’d always had artistic talent and flair with makeup, but early on in her career the CIA sent her to Hollywood to train with top movie makeup artists. She’d come back a true pro. With her talent with disguise, it was amazing she’d ended up in covers, rather than as master of disguise.

  As Tate dressed in Dr. Stevens’s sightseeing clothes, he watched as Mal stripped naked and put on a lacy thong nude pantie and matching strapless bra. Did she have to torment him with sexy lingerie and the most grabable ass in the country?

  If Sophia walked out of the bathroom and caught him hungering over Mal like that, there would be hell to pay. Emmett would have his head if he botched this mission, especially after insisting on taking it on. Fortunately, Sophia was still banging around in the bathroom like a petulant child.

  Mal pulled on a satiny silver embroidered bustier top with ribbon trim that emphasized her hourglass figure and a slim silver belt studded with crystals that made her waist look small enough to span with his hands. She finished the outfit with skintight white cropped skinny jeans and silver wedge sandals, transforming into a sophisticated and gorgeous woman who was definitely no girl. She caught him gawking and salivating and standing at full attention.

  He covered with diversion. “Really, Mal? You think you can watch my backside and keep up with me in those shoes?”

  She grinned. “I can watch your backside in anything. Besides, I run better in heels. All the lady cops on TV work in them.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Mal pulled an auburn wig cut in a stylish bob out of one of her cases and strode to the mirror to pop it on. She plugged a flatiron and a curling iron in at the vanity and opened her makeup kit to get to work. With a few deft strokes of her makeup brush, she turned into an entirely different person. He had to look twice. If he hadn’t known the woman seated at the vanity was Mal, he would have walked right past her on the street.

  That was a lie. The woman before him would have turned his head. Mal should have known better. Plain, everyday-looking spies, people no one noticed, played best undercover. It’s one reason Tate had never gone undercover before—he was too high-profile and recognizable. It was better to play that to his advantage rather than risk being recognized.

  “What is taking that girl so long?” Mal pushed back from the vanity and strode to the bathroom door and pounded on it.

  Mal even walked differently, strode with a walk oozing sensuality and maturity in a way Sophia did not. It was sexy as hell.

  “Hurry up in there! We don’t have all day.” Mal rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  Tate recognized jealousy and female competitive spirit when he saw it. Clearly, Mal didn’t like Sophia. Which warmed his heart and gave him hope.

  Tate pulled his shoes on and dialed Mason as Mal held up her hands and gestured, frustrated, like what can you do?

  Sophia emerged from the bathroom, dressed in Mallie’s clothes, which fit her like they’d been tailored specifically for her, with a pout on her lips.

  “Finally!” Mal grabbed Sophia and sat her at the vanity. She grabbed a makeup-removing cloth. “I’ll do your makeup. When I’m finished, you’ll be a dead ringer for Mallie.”

  Was it Tate’s imagination, or had Mal emphasized the word dead?

  Tate focused on his call with Mason as he filled him in on the new plan. Then he called HQ and explained the new situation to them.

  By the time Tate finished his calls, Sophia had been transformed into Mallie. He let out a low whistle, not a catcall, a whistle that let Mal know he was impressed with her work. He went to the vanity and stood behind Sophia, studying her in the mirror.

  “You like?” Sophia put a flirt in her voice.

  “You’re perfect. You look just like Mallie.”

  “Physical features are one thing,” Mal said. “It still remains to be seen whether she can carry this deception off. The trick is to get into character and become Mallie the grad student.” She grabbed Sophia’s arm. “Get up. I’m going to teach you how to walk like Mallie and put on her mannerisms.”

  As Mal dragged Sophia to her feet, she snagged Tate’s fake glasses and handed them to him. “Put these on.”

  Mal pulled Sophia to the corner of the room away from both the window and the door. “Watch me walk. Watch me interact with Dr. Stevens. Pay attention. I only have a few minutes to coach you and all of our lives hang on your performance and believability. Ready?”

  Sophia nodded.

  Mal walked across the room, young and Mallie again. Her walk was sexy in an innocent, youthful way. When she caught Tate’s arm and smiled up at him, love, shy and new and possessive, shone in her eyes. She curled into him and then reached up to brush his lips with a tantalizing light kiss that sent a current of pleasure through him. She really was trying to kill him.

  Mal dropped Tate’s arm and turned to Sophia. “Think you can mimic that?” She stepped aside. “Give it your best shot.”

  Sophia shrugged and came toward him, imitating Mallie’s walk. She was a gorgeous young woman, and she looked so damn much like Mal, but as Tate stood there, playing Professor Stevens, he felt no chemical attraction. Other than the natural appreciation any man feels for a pretty woman. Nothing special or out of the ordinary.

  “A little less sway
to your walk.” Mal was focused on Sophia and wearing the slightest scowl. “You’re not playing Marilyn Monroe. Our little Mallie isn’t a sexpot.” She sounded like she hoped that was true.

  Sophia toned down the sway and took his arm, smiling up at him. For a second his breath did catch, but only because of her resemblance to Mal. When Sophia leaned up and brushed his lips with hers, he felt nothing, not even as he got a whiff of Mallie’s perfume.

  Sophia misinterpreted his expression and bodily reaction, grinning like she’d just won a prize. Mal misinterpreted, too, and frowned. Damn, he was between a rock and a hard mission in this situation. He either succeeded with the mission or with Mal. He’d made that choice before—career over personal life—and had lived to regret it. Was this mission worth his chance with Mal, and a life as a family with Kayla again?

  Sometimes Tate felt as if he had everything. And nothing.

  “It will have to do.” Mal glanced at the clock.

  “You’ll do fine,” Tate whispered to Sophia, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  “When will Mason be here?” Mal asked.

  “Any minute.” Tate stepped away from Sophia and picked up his lightweight jacket.

  “Good.” Mal smiled but her eyes were hard.

  Tate knew her well enough to see she was worried. “We’ll pull this off. We always do.” He smiled at Mal. “Take the secret passage. Mason will meet you at the outside entrance. From there you’ll sneak through the garden and out to the street. Sophia and I will wait in the room and give you time to get in position.

  “Mason will have a car waiting for each of us,” Tate said. “Sophia and I will act like we’re off for a nice drive in the country. You and Mason will follow to cover our asses. Simple.”

  “Simple doesn’t mean easy,” Mal said, looking Tate directly in the eye. “Remember your promise.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The secret passage was just as dank, musty, and totally unromantic as it had been the day Mason first showed it to them. It didn’t improve upon second viewing. And negotiating the narrow winding steps in high-heeled sandals with a white cardigan sweater wrapped around her shoulders while her mind was on Sophia’s performance didn’t improve Mal’s opinion of the passage. Maybe if she’d been an adventurous eight-year-old playing pretend. But everything was at stake now—her life, Tate’s life, which hung on Sophia’s meager acting skills, and Mal’s possible happily-ever-after with Tate. Kayla, that little imp, had been trying to manufacture a reunion her entire five-year-old life, or so it seemed. She’d be so happy to get her daddy back full-time. Well, as full-time as Tate ever was.