by KyAnn Waters
CINDERELLA UNDERCOVER
KyAnn Waters
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
CINDERELLA UNDERCOVER
Copyright © 2010 by KyAnn Waters
E-book ISBN: 1-60601-817-5
First E-book Publication: May 2010
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
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Letter from KyAnn Waters
Regarding Ebook Piracy
Dear Readers,
Writing books is my pleasure and publishing them is my business. This is my career and I thank you for your continued financial support by purchasing my books and not making them available through unauthorized distribution. Piracy isn’t just illegal, but it impedes me from making money for my work.
With deep gratitude,
KyAnn Waters
CINDERELLA UNDERCOVER
KYANN WATERS
Copyright © 2010
Chapter One
The hollow click of Victoria Rosso’s three-inch heels echoed through the stark, sterile hall leading to Director Amine’s office. With each footfall, her anticipation increased. Flutters swirled deep in her center. The sensation traveled up her spine until her heart raced and adrenaline surged through her system. There was only one reason for the summons. She had an assignment.
Three weeks ago, she’d returned from the Mediterranean after a four-month operation. Posing as a wealthy Eastern European, she’d infiltrated a smuggling organization trafficking young women who were unknowingly lured into sexual slavery.
Victoria wasn’t ex-Navy SEAL or ex-Delta Force like most of her male counterparts at Echelon Shield. While she spoke several languages, had a black belt in Aikido, and could break complex computer codes, her skills weren’t on par with her fellow agents.
What made her valuable to Director Amine and the elite forces of ES was her beauty. Given her long legs, small waist, and high breasts, she couldn’t possibly pose a threat to a corrupt male-driven empire. Victoria’s looks made everyone think she was nothing more than a buxom blonde bombshell. That’s why they sent her in.
Victoria gave a gentle knock. When Amine’s voice bellowed to enter, she opened the door and walked inside.
Amine cradled the phone to his ear and pointed to the over-stuffed leather chair across from his cluttered desk. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the cushion. Her fitted knee-length skirt rode up her thigh. Not that it mattered at this meeting. Director Amine would be the last person affected by her sexual nature. Sex appeal was part of her professional persona. Unless she was in her quiet beach house on the coast of Maine and off the ES circuit, she dressed for the job.
This last stint of rest and relaxation hadn’t lasted long. Three weeks to be precise, but that was long enough. She was ready to work.
Amine hung up the phone and picked up a file. “We have a situation that requires immediate attention.”
Those terms sparked her excitement. Amine was a man of few words—retired military, kind-hearted to those deserving, and intimidating as hell to any who endeavored to thwart American ideals. When the government couldn’t act, he did. Swift, concise, and deadly. Not only did he have the finances, but he had the connections. Amine wasn’t a man to cross. Those he brought into Echelon Shield were the best. And she knew where she ranked with him. “I’m ready.”
He dropped the file on his desk and rubbed his eyes. Then he laughed. “I’m glad you feel that way. This is a bit different from your usual assignments. There is already an operative involved.”
Victoria silently sighed. Calling another operative in meant something had gone wrong. Either the agent’s cover had been blown, or whatever plan they were operating under had fallen apart. Either way, the risks increased. “Before I give you the details, I want to make sure you’re up for this.”
“Absolutely. I’ve been home three weeks and I’m ready for some excitement.”
One bushy gray brow rose above his shrewd gaze. “We haven’t heard from our agent and he missed his extraction deadline. He’s the guest of Maxwell Evenson while he’s upgrading his internal computer network. We believe Evenson keeps a separate accounting of his illegal activities on the premises of his Louisiana compound. The man is paranoid, so our agent has had no outside communication. He’s too deep. I need to send in someone he trusts to make physical contact.”
Victoria heard what Amine didn’t say—what they didn’t know. Until ES ascertained the exact condition of their operative, policy dictated that they proceed as if the cover was blown and that the operative was working on a contingency plan.
“I need someone I can trust. I need you.” He raked his fingers through his full head of silver hair. “Sweetheart, this isn’t going to be easy.”
Victoria released a slow, steady exhale. With the simple endearment, she realized that this was more than an assignment. This was personal. “Who?” she asked, but wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“Jaron Quinn.”
Oh God, no. She blinked a few times, lying to herself that this was just another operative and not the more than six feet of solid muscle with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Jaron made her thighs tremble and her heart flutter. She crossed her legs and squeezed, refusing the flash of arousal. It was simply warm in the office because six months had dulled any affection she might have once believed she felt for Special Op. Quinn.
“I know this won’t be easy for you.” He sighed and the tired lines at the corners of his eyes deepened.
No surprise. Nothing about Jaron Quinn could be easy. He thrived on difficult situations. A good portion of the time he created his own trouble. Like when he fucked her over. Actually, he was pretty good at fucking her over, which happened to be the reason she was upset. Damn the great lovers of the world. “I can handle the assignment.”
But could she handle seeing Jaron again? She was screwed, or inevitably, she would be if she took the assignment and spent time with th
e man who gave amazing oral. She still had wet dreams where his wicked tongue worked miracles on her pussy. She’d wake, need an orgasm more than her next breath, and have to imagine her dildo was his big, beautiful cock.
Jaron Quinn had just one major problem. He had an unmatched talent for pissing her off.
Their relationship had been a whirlwind romance. She’d known him from Echelon Shield for several months. A drink after an ES briefing had led to his apartment, to six months of incredible sex, and the feeling of being in a relationship. Only apparently, they hadn’t had a relationship, just great sex.
“Good. You leave this afternoon.”
“That’s fast.” There wouldn’t be time to prepare to see Jaron. That was probably best. Less opportunity to change her mind and let the selfish, arrogant—she sighed—highly skilled, deliciously dangerous special op figure out a way to save his own ass. God, don’t even get her thinking about his ass.
“Can’t be helped. We have an opportunity to get you in. Evenson is having a party. You’re invited. You won’t be on the guest list. You’re private entertainment.”
“And Jaron?”
“He’ll be at the party. Evenson has kept him close. He’s going by the name Jaron Whitt.”
“I need details. What was his exact assignment?”
“We sent him in to plant spyware that will enable ES to track Evenson’s financial interests.” Amine’s chair squeaked and groaned as he adjusted his girth. “Intel thus far is alarming. We believe Evenson Enterprises is transferring corporate money to terrorist organizations working within the United States.”
Victoria tapped her manicured fingernails on the edge of the armrest. “Where is Homeland Security on this?”
Amine shook his head. “Investigating Evenson is like investigating the President. Evenson is one of the untouchables.”
Victoria nodded. Untouchable, but not for Echelon Shield. Amine had inside contacts at the highest government levels. Yet, Amine accepted that any consequences would fall on him alone.
Amine finished the briefing. “Bring him home.”
“I will.”
Amine smiled and kissed her cheek. “And watch your own ass, too. I don’t want to have to send Reynolds in for you.” With that, he sent her out of his office. That was just his way. She didn’t doubt his affection for her.
Frank Amine had served with her father in the military. They’d been close, fought in the same war-torn countries, walked through hell, and hated when they lost a member of their team. Nothing had been harder for Frank than coming home without Scott Rosso. Because her mother was dead too, Frank had claimed guardianship of a scared eight-year-old child. From that day on, Victoria had traveled the world as his daughter, received an amazing education, and learned hard lessons about the rest of the world.
And now she worked for him as an operative for Echelon Shield. And her next assignment involved the one man who’d ever gotten under her skin. The one who had left her six months ago without an explanation.
* * * *
Victoria carried a small bag when she boarded a prop plane and settled in for the flight from D.C. to the Louisiana coast. Amine hadn’t divulged how he’d garnered the invitation to Evenson’s soirée. However, when investigating a potential threat, every conceivable connection was explored. In this case, Evenson and his friends had a taste for decadence—high priced decadence. Her cover was simple—an American escort sent to entertain a group of influential men. Victoria knew where they applied their influence. Government contracts, Wall Street, world financial markets. Men with unscrupulous morals allowed American investors to provide funding and technology for the right price.
Maxwell Evenson was above suspicion. Elite Washington insiders, governors, and billionaire tycoons considered him a friend. The intel from Echelon Shield had information that showed otherwise. Maxwell Evenson was only loyal to himself. Frank Amine knew the mogul was corrupt and he’d sent in an operative to gather the hard evidence.
Taking a deep breath, Victoria rolled over the agenda in her mind. Ascertain Jaron’s condition, determine if the mission was salvageable, and if so, she was to assist Jaron in any way possible. The devil lay in the details. Jaron, with his sexy southern drawl, hard disciplined body, and mind like a steel trap would take those orders and exploit them. Victoria simply needed to keep her mind open and, when it came to Jaron, her legs closed.
From the moment the plane touched down at the small airstrip, Victoria was in character. The plane door opened to the heavy, muggy Louisiana humidity. Tory, as she’d think of herself from this point forward, tucked her hair behind her ear and pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
With a definite swing to her step, she disembarked and crossed the tarmac to the waiting limousine. Deep easy breaths. Relax. This was no different from the dozens of other assignments she’d taken over the years.
Normally, she was very sure of herself and her abilities. Normal didn’t include Jaron. The only difference was that Jaron’s life might be in her hands. She just hoped her hand didn’t tremble when she met Maxwell Evenson.
An intimidating man with a military flattop, thick neck, and large hands took her bag. He handed the bag to another gentleman, who didn’t appear quite as friendly. “Search it, Ray.” Ray set her bag on the hood of the stretch and rummaged through her belongings. She wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t find anything.
“Remove your sunglasses.” Security for Maxwell Evenson obviously didn’t waste words.
Tory brought her hand up with deliberate slowness to keep his eyes tracking her movements. She grazed her breast then higher until she took the tortoise shell frames from her face, letting them dangle from her fingers. Blinking against the bright sunshine, she let a provocative smile tilt her lips as she bit on the edge of the sunglasses. A coy play of seduction she’d mastered.
The man’s posture eased. “Sorry, Miss Tory, but I need to search you.”
Tory put her hands akimbo and jutted her hips to the left. “Make it good and I’ll add my fee to Mr. Evenson’s bill.” She winked as he ran his hands over her figure. “Not too fast.” Wearing tight clothing, anyone else might have had a hard time hiding a weapon, but she wasn’t an average escort and she never went into an unknown situation unarmed.
The man took his job seriously. Starting at her shoulders and slowly working his way down her body, he touched every curve of her figure. He cupped her breasts, running his fingers along the underside, and then trailed his hands lower. While staring into her face, he placed his palm over the mound of her pussy. “Since we’re getting acquainted, what’s your name?”
“Rick.” He reached around, grabbed her ass, and finally ran his hands between her thighs. Then he opened the door for her.
“It was a pleasure, Rick.”
He grinned. “For me, too.”
“Maybe during the festivities we’ll find time to get reacquainted.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be a guest this evening. I’ll be working.” He shut the door, and a moment later, the limousine was in route.
The blackened windows kept anyone from seeing in, and she was unsettled that she couldn’t see out. Since she couldn’t determine their direction, she leaned back and steeled her nerves. Not only did she have concerns about the mission, she had serious reservations about Jaron. To say he’d be excited to see her would be a gross miscalculation. She only hoped he didn’t break cover. Hers or his.
After twenty minutes, the vehicle came to a stop, and Rick opened the door for her. She held his hand as she slipped from the car.
Maxwell Evenson lived in an impenetrable fortress, bordered by miles of marshy thickets and swamp, security cameras, and armed guards. Getting in wouldn’t be difficult. After all, she was invited. The trouble would come when it was time to get out.
Acres of manicured lawns and gardens surrounded a sprawling three-story structure. An armed guard stood on each of the front facing balconies. Ornate security bars crossed over ever
y window.
She followed Rick into the complex. “I’ll have someone show you to your room. As you know, Mr. Evenson has a special dinner planned for this evening.” Yes, that was how she was able to get in, undercover and under the radar. She was one of a dozen escorts hired to entertain. “Mr. Evenson will send for you when your services are required.”
“Excellent.” Perhaps she’d have time to wander about and get the layout of the house. Once she made contact with Jaron, she’d have full scope of their situation.
However, she didn’t have to wait to ascertain his condition. He appeared in the corridor and approached. Her pulse jumped then hammered against her ribs.
“Whitt, I was just about to show Miss Tory to her room.”
Tory cocked an eyebrow. Her mouth was dry, and her palms were damp, but she didn’t show any outward sign of the riot of emotions swirling in her tummy. Not only was he alive, he was breathtaking.
“I’ll show her.” Jaron was ex-Navy SEAL. His physique still carried the hard lines of a disciplined life. However, in the six months since she’d seen him, he’d lost some of his mass. More about his appearance had changed. He’d altered his striking blue eyes with brown contacts, but he couldn’t do anything about the fringe of long, dark lashes. And while still black as night, he’d grown his hair longer in the back. Soft curls framed his masculine features—strong square jaw, nearly straight nose, and high forehead.
Tory knew he’d been on this assignment for a few months. The Louisiana sun had turned him into an exotic bronzed god. Had she not known every inch of his magnificent body, she might not have recognized him. But then, that was what Echelon Shield ops were trained to do. Blend in and disappear.