Secret Identity

by Paula Graves

  “I’ll be here if you need me.” He gestured at the sofa.

  “No, I don’t want you to stay on the sofa.”

  “You want me to go home?”

  She shook her head. “I want you to stay with me tonight. Just to sleep,” she added when she caught a flicker of heat in his eyes. “I’d feel weird with Isabel in the next room.”

  He smiled. “You’re asking a lot.”

  “I know. But you’re man enough to handle it, aren’t you?”

  “I guess we’ll see.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How long do you need to be alone?”

  “Half hour? I just need some peace and quiet to think. You’re used to being surrounded with family, but it’s new to me.” She caught his hand, gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for today. For the trip to the lake and for—”

  “The mind-blowing sex?” he supplied with a wicked smile.

  “Yeah. For that, too.”

  “Oh, believe me, it was my pleasure.” He kissed her again, and this time, there was nothing sweet or undemanding about it. She felt heat pour through her like lava, spreading inexorably to every atom of her body. When he pulled away, she felt unsteady on her feet, as if his kiss were a potent drug.

  “I’m going to take a quick turn outside the house to make sure everything’s secure, then I’ll lock up for the night.”

  “Okay.” She turned toward the guest room, surprised by her body’s reluctance to move away from him. Even in Tablis, at the height of their passionate affair, she’d never had trouble walking away.

  Maybe that’s because she’d believed, even the day they ended their relationship, that it wasn’t really over.

  But now, with a death sentence hanging over her head and no sure way out of the trouble she was in, each time she walked away from Rick felt as if it could be the last.

  THE PERIMETER WAS SECURE, the doors and windows safely locked. Shutting off the lights, he went quietly into the guest room, in case Amanda had already fallen asleep. The light was off, so he undressed in the dark, stripping to his boxers and a T-shirt, and eased under the covers next to her.

  “I’m awake,” she said softly, turning her head to look at him in the dark. Only a faint moon glow through the window shed any light at all, edging her silhouette in pale blue.

  He scooted closer under the covers, wrapping his arms around her and spooning her from behind. “Oh, you’re warm.”

  “And your hands are like ice,” she whispered, plucking them away when he slipped his fingers under the hem of her short cotton T-shirt. “Is it that cold outside?”

  “Yeah, but it’s supposed to warm up tomorrow.”

  “Good. I’m tired of being cold.”

  He waited for her to settle back against him before he spoke again. “I don’t want you to be Alexander Quinn’s bait.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that now.”

  “You never want to talk about anything.” He tried not to let the full force of his frustration tint the tone of his voice, but he didn’t succeed.

  She caught one of his hands and brought it to her mouth, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “In Tablis, we had other things to do besides talk.”

  “Yeah, well, you took that off the table tonight.”

  She laughed softly. “Touché.”

  “And this isn’t Tablis, anyway. I like to think we’re a little past the point of living only for the moment.”

  “Maybe you are.”

  “And you’re not?”

  She turned over to face him. “Our timing stinks.”

  He stroked the hair falling across her cheek. “I can wait for things to settle down. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Threading her fingers with his, she nuzzled her nose against his chin. “You’re different now, you know.”

  “I’m older. More patient.”

  “And more challenging.”

  “Is that good?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.

  She seemed to consider the question for a moment, long enough to make him worry. “Yeah,” she said finally. “It’s good. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want my life to be, now that I’m not a spy anymore, and I don’t think the things that made me content before can ever make me content again.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Including me?”

  She touched his lips with her fingertip. “You’re not the same as you were before, remember? So you don’t count.” Her voice took on a teasing tone. “You get a fresh start to prove yourself, Cooper.”

  “But you won’t let me,” he said in an equally light tone, sneaking his hand up to brush lightly against the curve of her breast. “For instance, I could prove how quiet I can be—”

  “I’m not sure I could be,” she moaned, arching her back as his thumb brushed over her hardening nipple.

  He knew an opening when he saw one. Dipping his head, he covered her nipple with his mouth, tonguing the hard nub through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. She dug her fingers into his back, her thighs parting to accept the pressure of his hips against hers.

  They made love quietly but frantically, as if they could erase the years apart with sheer determination. And for a moment, as she surged in his arms, drawing him with her into a maelstrom of pleasure, he thought they’d succeeded.

  But afterward, lying with Amanda’s body draped over his in contented slumber, Rick couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how they tried, some nightmares could never be erased.

  And something dangerous was on its way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You don’t have to do it.” Rick’s voice rumbled in Amanda’s ear, seductive despite the topic of conversation. She shouldn’t have let him coax her into a picnic down by the creek below Isabel’s house. He had immediately taken advantage of their time alone to begin a slow-burning seduction.

  She knew his show of passion wasn’t entirely agenda-free. He wanted her to say no to Damon North’s request, and he wasn’t above using sex to get his way.

  She kind of liked that about him. But it didn’t change a thing. She’d made her decision last night, lying in Rick’s arms in the drowsy aftermath of lovemaking. As long as there were MacLear agents out there, gunning for her for reasons she couldn’t fathom, she’d always be running.

  She didn’t know if she and Rick had what it took to be together long-term. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be with anyone long-term.

  But she was tired of running.

  She turned her head to press her lips against the underside of his jaw, enjoying the low groan that escaped his throat. “Isabel’s at work. The house is empty—”

  He dipped his head and kissed her, a light, nipping touch of his mouth against hers. “Or we could stay out here and hash this thing out.”

  With a sigh, she pulled away from him, tucking her knees up to her chest. His hand stroked lightly down her back, the touch comforting and undemanding.

  “You’ve already decided you want to do it, haven’t you?”

  She nodded. “I need to know who’s behind this mess and why. Don’t you?”

  “Of course. But that doesn’t mean you have to put your neck on the chopping block. We’ve barely started looking into who The Tiger might be—”

  “And he might have nothing to do with this at all,” Amanda countered, turning to look at him. “And there’s something else we have to consider—the CIA knows about you and me.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure—”

  “Before, I mean. In Kaziristan. The agency knew I was involved with you.”

  He looked surprised. “You said it was just Quinn.”

  “I thought it was, until I was debriefed after my escape from al Adar. For a while, they thought you might have been involved in my abduction—that you’d tipped off al Adar about where to find me.”

  He looked horrified. “My God.”

  She lifted her hand to his face, running her fingers lightly over the cleft in his chin. “I told them you
had nothing to do with it. I convinced them.”

  “I would never—”

  She turned her body to face him, twining her hands with his. “I know. But the CIA knew about us. And that tracker in my tooth means something. The MacLear team lost our scent after we got rid of the tracker. What if someone at the CIA is working with the SSU? What if there’s a mole?”

  “Why aren’t they here already?”

  She felt a flutter of pain in the center of her chest. “I also convinced them that our breakup had been bitter and irrevocable. I told them you’d taken up with another woman and that I never wanted to see you again.”

  He stared at her, comprehension dawning in his eyes. He lifted one big hand to her face, cupping her cheek with heartbreaking tenderness. “To protect me?”

  There wasn’t much point in pretending otherwise. “I knew what kind of hell they could have given you if I didn’t get them off your trail. I didn’t want that for you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, tenderness infusing the caress until she had to pull back to keep herself from breaking into tears. As she struggled for control, he gave her room.

  When she felt steadier, she started gathering the remains of their picnic lunch. He pitched in, helping her wrap up the leftovers and put them back in the basket.

  “I have to go into the office for a little while,” he told her as he stood and reached down his hand to help her to her feet. “There are some calls I need to make.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll take care of this,” she said with a swing of the picnic basket. She shot him a wicked smile. “I could use a nap after last night, anyway.”

  Smiling, he bent and kissed her, slow and deep. For a moment, every thought in her head seemed to flee in the face of the fire rushing through her at his touch.

  His tongue tangled with hers, branding her with heat. Pulling away with reluctance, he gazed at her with passion-drunk eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Should I send Isabel back to stay with you?”

  “I’m capable of protecting myself now,” she said firmly, walking with him to his car. “I haven’t run a fever in twenty-four hours, and I can barely feel any pain in my arm anymore. Plus, I’m armed and dangerous.”

  He smiled at her confidence, though his eyes were deadly serious. “You get out of here if you feel the least bit threatened.”

  He’d shown her a hidden door in the laundry room that led to a storm cellar behind the house. If someone tried to invade the house, she could escape through the cellar door, which was camouflaged by a toolshed in Isabel’s backyard.

  “I will,” she promised. “And thank you.”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “For what?”

  “For lunch,” she answered.

  For giving her something to fight for again.

  He stroked her cheek. “My pleasure.”

  She watched him drive away, waiting until he was safely out of sight to pull the slip of paper Damon had given her from the pocket of her jeans. She walked back into Isabel’s house and into the guest room, pulling her duffel bag from where it lay on the floor by the bed. Inside one of the inner pockets she found the small prepaid cell phone she’d bought a couple of months ago.

  She’d had a scare when she ran into a tourist who looked just like a woman she’d worked with at the U.S. embassy in Tablis. It hadn’t been her colleague, as it turned out, but the close call had been enough to make her add a few essentials to her disaster kit, including a prepaid phone she could use in a pinch without signing up for a contract.

  She’d charged the battery a couple of days before she’d gotten Quinn’s package. To her relief, there was still plenty of battery power left to make the call.

  Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number Damon had given her, waiting for him to answer.

  But it wasn’t Damon’s voice on the other line.

  “Hello, Audrey,” said Alexander Quinn.

  WHEN HE ARRIVED AT Cooper Security, Rick went straight to his brother’s office, entering without bothering to knock.

  Jesse looked up, his expression tight with annoyance. “The door was closed for a reason.”

  “Who’d you call?”

  Jesse didn’t pretend he didn’t know what Rick was asking. “I told you last night, I agreed to keep his identity secret.”

  Rick slapped his hand hard on Jesse’s desk. “I let you in on what was going on with Amanda. I convinced her she could trust you. And you were keeping secrets all along.”

  “Not secrets that could hurt her.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know that?”

  Jesse rose and faced him across the desk, his nostrils flaring with anger. “Because I’m your brother and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Or someone you cared about.”

  “So prove it. Tell me who’s bankrolling this place.”

  Jesse’s eyes narrowed.

  “You think I didn’t know that your Marine Corps pension couldn’t lease a room in this office building, much less the whole damned thing?” Rick laughed. “I’m not stupid, no matter what you think of my life choices.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid.” Jesse sank into his chair, looking up at Rick with a frown. “I worried about MacLear, that’s all. I’d heard things—”

  “And I didn’t listen.” Rick settled in the chair across from his brother. “You were right.”

  Jesse was silent a moment, his gaze seeming to pierce all the way through Rick.

  Rick held his tongue, realizing his brother was trying to make a decision. Silence was his best hope, since anything he said these days seemed destined to make his brother angry.

  “His name is Maddox Heller.”

  Rick gave a start. “Mad Dog Heller?”

  Jesse nodded.

  Rick sat back, surprised. Maddox Heller had been a Marine Corps security guard working at the U.S. embassy in Tablis, Kaziristan, during the embassy siege a few years earlier. After the brutal near-decapitation of a female interpreter by al Adar rebels trying to lure out Maddox and the embassy personnel he was guarding, the State Department had seized on Heller’s inaction to make him the public face of all that had gone wrong at the embassy that day.

  The innuendos had been entirely unfair, but the State Department officials—including Barton Reid—had made sure only their side of the story was told.

  The last Rick had heard, Maddox Heller was living somewhere in the Caribbean, out of the public eye. “Where the hell did a disgraced Marine get enough money to open a shop like this?”

  “He wasn’t disgraced,” Jesse snapped. “He was railroaded.”

  “I know that. But about the money?”

  “An inheritance,” Jesse answered. “He wanted to use the money for something worthwhile, but he knew that putting his name on an agency wouldn’t be great for business.”

  “So you’re his shell company?”

  Jesse shot his brother a wry grin. “Not entirely. I have a stake in this place, too. I believe in what we’re doing here. Don’t you?”

  “Of course.” Rick knew that Cooper Security was doing more than just pulling in fees. The money they got from their big jobs helped pay for some pro bono and low-fee jobs they did for ordinary people who’d found themselves pitted against powerful bad actors both here in the U.S. and in places abroad. “How does Heller have access to Alexander Quinn?”

  “Maybe you should ask him yourself,” Jesse said, smiling a little as Rick shot him a questioning look. “That’s what you really came here for, right? You want to talk to Heller yourself, to find out what he thinks Quinn’s really up to.”

  “Yes,” Rick admitted. “Can you put me in touch with him?”

  “I can find out if he’ll see you.”

  “See me? I don’t have time for a trip to the Caribbean.”

  Jesse’s smile widened. “You don’t have to. Heller lives about twenty minutes away in Borland.”

  “ARE YOU GOING TO QUIT playing games and just tell me what the hell’s going on?” Amanda’
s nerves had gone way past the edge and headlong into primal-scream territory within a minute of double-talk on the phone with Alexander Quinn.

  “Someone’s put out a hit on you,” Quinn answered flatly.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I think it’s connected to your captivity in Kaziristan.”

  “You think?”

  Quinn didn’t answer, adding to Amanda’s growing conviction that she was up against a double agent. And Quinn knew it.

  “You think someone at CIA is dirty.”

  “I know a lot of people at CIA are dirty.” Quinn’s voice held a hint of humor. “It’s part of our job description.”

  “I’m talking about a traitor.”

  “I know.” Quinn grew serious. “And you’ve always had good instincts.”

  “Do you know who?”

  “If I did, he’d be dead.” Quinn’s cold tone sent a shiver down Amanda’s spine.

  “How does MacLear play into this?”

  “Surely you’ve figured that out.”

  “SSU hasn’t entirely disbanded.”

  “No, it hasn’t. And they’re selling themselves out to the highest bidder.” Quinn sounded bemused. “I always figured them for cockroaches, but I had no idea just how indestructible they’d turn out to be.”

  Which fit Damon’s story about how he’d come to work for SSU—Quinn had sent him to infiltrate the secret security force and bring the company down from the inside. “Why do you think the hit on me has something to do with Kaziristan?”

  “Haven’t you wondered why I wasn’t the one to debrief you after you escaped?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “They said you were on assignment.”

  “They sent me on assignment.” His voice dropped an octave. “I should’ve been there. You needed me, and they kept me away from you. I’ve spent three years trying to figure out why.”

  “And what have you concluded?” she asked, her voice strained by a terrible thought racing through her brain.

  Quinn voiced her thought for her. “I think someone big at the CIA knew who took you and didn’t want you to tell what you knew to anyone who could put a kink in his plans.”