When her intercom beeped, Amanda was so deep in thought, she jumped and the file she’d been holding slid to the floor. Scrambling on hands and knees to pick up the scattered papers, she heard her secretary announce, “You have a visitor.”
“No visitors,” Amanda said. But of course, her secretary, Kelly Bennito, couldn’t hear her since Amanda couldn’t activate the switch from the floor. No matter. She’d just send her visitor away. Months ago, her friends had given up their attempts to get her to leave the office before midnight. She’d overheard colleagues talking about her mental state behind her back, but Amanda didn’t care.
So what if she had dark circles under her eyes? So what if she’d gained ten pounds from nervous eating? It wasn’t as if she had a man in her life. Last night and her attraction to Bolt Tanner had been an aberration. An inexplicable anomaly that she now had under control—especially since she had no intention of seeing him again.
Her office door opened, and for a moment they just stared at each other. She looked up to see Bolt Tanner.
“Bet you didn’t expect me to show up here,” he finally stated.
“You called that right.”
Shocked by his presence in her office, she picked up the last of the spilled papers, using the time to gather her thoughts. How had he found her? She hadn’t told him where she worked or even that she was an FBI agent. And why did he have a thick file stamped Classified in his hand? Then she recalled her impressions from last night, not only the passionate ones, but her feeling that he’d intended to meet her before the elevator doors had opened and he’d first seen her. So he’d planned the meeting. But why?
He strode toward her looking as good in jeans and a khaki jacket as he had in a suit. When he held out his hand to help her to her feet, she didn’t hesitate. “Why did you seek me out last night?”
Surprised she sounded so normal, she nevertheless braced against the pulse drumming in her ears. But when he released her hand, she didn’t walk around to her chair and put distance between them. Instead she spontaneously decided on a different tack. She swung a hip onto her desk, crossed one knee over the other and let her shoe dangle provocatively off her rocking foot, enjoying the sight of him checking out her legs almost as much as she’d enjoyed their dance last night.
When he realized she’d caught him staring, he didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish. Instead his bold blue eyes captured her gaze and he held up the thick document. “You’re much better looking than the picture in your file.”
“Thanks.”
Now this was interesting. He must have a higher security clearance than she did to have access to her file. Yet, he didn’t act like FBI. There was an inbred cockiness to this man, a certain seductive savoir faire that came from a combination of education, training and breeding that money couldn’t buy. His kind of scrumptious and sexy confidence took intelligence and experience and implied a manner of operating outside the box. Another woman might have thought him arrogant, but Amanda was beguiled by his charm. She’d always appreciated men with extraordinary skills—and this guy had them in spades. Last night, she’d been thinking mostly with her hormones, no doubt due to his enticing charm. That she hadn’t ended up in his bed had been a minor miracle.
But now that she was out of the party mood and her head was cleared of champagne, she took a harder look at him. The calluses on his hands suggested he was skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as firearm drills, and he fascinated her by allowing her to see exactly what he wanted her to see—and no more.
She couldn’t read below his surface and that, more than his eye candy exterior, intrigued her. “Surely you didn’t come here to suggest I should update my picture? Did you expect me to forget that you didn’t answer my question about why you arranged for us to meet last night?”
She wished he’d get to the point of this visit before her curiosity made her say something foolish—like if you aren’t married, I’m interested. She refused to glance at his hand to see if the ring he hadn’t worn last night was back on for his day job, because a man like him would notice. And she wasn’t yet certain if she wanted him to know the surprising effect he had on her.
Her attraction wasn’t simply chemistry. Sure she liked the outside package, but she wanted to know what kind of man was behind the pretty clothes, perfect hair and charming voice.
“Are you always so good at small talk?” he teased, his lips turning up again in an easy smile.
She licked her bottom lip and quirked an eyebrow. “Small talk bores me.”
He chuckled, his laughter heating up his blue eyes. “I sought you out last night because you’re going to be my new partner.”
* * *
BOLT WATCHED AMANDA’S dark-green eyes narrow, a corner of her mouth twitch, dishing out amusement along with her obvious skepticism. “My work doesn’t require a partner.”
Bolt had been pleased with her skills when he’d read her file, but nothing could compare to the captivating picture she’d made in his arms last night. He’d had to restrain himself when his lips had brushed hers. And now his every instinct told him Logan Kincaid had made the right choice when he’d chosen Amanda Lane to work with the Shey Group.
Last night he’d seen one side of her, now he was seeing another. She was as quick to put unrelated facts together as she was light on her feet. FBI agents tended to be by-the-book kind of people. But Amanda had attitude in spades. From the tilt of her saucy chin to her angled hip to her rocking foot, her body language told him that although she might still be grieving for her sister, she was by no means broken. Clearly, top to bottom and inside to out, Amanda Lane was a fighter. One with curves that made his fingers itch to stroke them.
Although skinny women were all the rage, Bolt preferred a woman whose bones didn’t make him wince when he held her. And Amanda’s proportions were exactly suited to his taste. But more important than her attractive appearance was her self-assured outlook. She wasn’t one of those women whom he saw too often in law enforcement, one who wanted to show she was better than a man. She challenged him, but in a feminine way that revealed she was confident in her own skin and had nothing to prove to herself or to him.
He watched carefully as he revealed the mission. “I’m going after Hathaway Balkmandy, and I thought you might be interested.”
“What gave you that idea?” Her nostrils flared. Her shoulders stiffened but only another professional would have picked up on her reaction. Oh, Amanda was cool under stress, perfect for the mission. “And who the hell are you, Mr. Bolt Tanner?”
“I work for the Shey Group. My boss has asked your boss to e-mail you a letter of reference. If you check your computer—”
“I’ll do that.” She leaned over her desk, brought up her e-mail and her eyes widened. “This came straight from the director of the FBI.”
“The Shey Group works closely with the government.”
“I’ve heard of Logan Kincaid. The man’s a legend. However, I wasn’t aware he’d left the Agency.” She read the letter quickly and glanced up at him. “You work for the Shey Group and Kincaid?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you going after Hathaway?”
“I have intel that Hathaway stole an invaluable antique perfume bottle, and our client’s paying us to recover his brother-in-law’s property.”
She frowned, her pretty lips forming an enticing pout. She really had incredible lips, full, natural and brazen, and he couldn’t help wondering if she would taste as sassy as she acted. Working with a partner always had advantages, brainstorming and taking turns at surveillance during the inevitable lulls in action. His last mission had involved sitting through desert sandstorms and waiting for an urgent radio contact that had never come. Usually Bolt played cards or talked sports to kill the downtime, but his mind kept leaping to all the wonderful things he and Amanda could do together, like long seductive kisses that led to exploring her enticing curves. Oh, yeah. This time he’d lucked out, drawing an interesting mis
sion and one hot partner.
Rocking her slender foot, the back of her stylish shoe tapped her sexy heel, which was gloved in a skin-toned stocking. “The FBI isn’t in the business of recovering stolen items.”
“It is now.” He reached into his pocket and presented her with a second letter from the FBI Director, offering Amanda Lane’s service to the Shey Group. “But only if you agree. I don’t work with unwilling partners.”
She scanned the official letter, then glanced at him, her curiosity making her eyes sparkle emerald-green. “You came to me because of my sister, didn’t you?”
He nodded.
Her captivating eyes also revealed a shadow that hinted at pain. “If we’re going to be partners, you should know that I believe Hathaway killed my sister, and I’m going to search for evidence to prove it.”
“Tell me about your sister.” He’d read the file, memorized the classified information. Her sister had had a genius IQ and according to her colleagues had an insight in her field that allowed her to think creatively. But he wanted to hear Amanda tell him about Donna in her own words.
“Before Donna went to work for Hathaway, her last project was for D&B Industries. My sister was brilliant, one of the best in her field and could write her own ticket among dozens of defense contractors that constantly courted her,” she stated without emotion. “The top-secret chemical formula she’d patented was specially formulated paint to allow ships and planes to avoid radar.”
He found it interesting that she recited the facts so dryly when her sister had obviously meant so much to her. Almost as if she allowed any emotion to escape, she’d open a floodgate. “Go on,” he urged.
“The classified patent was discovered on a captured terrorist’s computer. I can’t do anything to bring back my sister, and Donna can’t defend herself from the accusations that she sold out and betrayed our country, but I can work to find her murderer and clear her name.”
“So how’s it going?”
“Every clue I’ve followed leads to a dead end. After months of slow and painstaking research, I’m no closer to knowing how Donna’s formula got into terrorist hands than before I began. And I’d like the SOB who killed her placed behind bars for life.”
“Not dead?”
“Too easy. I want him to suffer.” Her tone was hard, flat, determined. And behind every word was raw pain.
Bolt wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms but he hadn’t earned that right. And she didn’t want comfort. She wanted revenge. He understood. If anyone ever harmed one of his sisters, he’d feel exactly the same way.
“You and Donna were close?”
Amanda swallowed hard and nodded. “After our parents died in a skiing accident, I raised her.”
More details were in the file. Amanda had used their parents’ life insurance to put herself through school. Then she’d worked two jobs to pay for her sister’s college and graduate school. She hadn’t lost only a sister. Donna had been like a daughter, as well. And now Amanda was the last surviving member of her family.
But she was no longer alone. She had him. She had his help and the Shey Group’s as well. And he liked her up-front honesty enough to give her the same in return. “I have no problem with your agenda as long as it doesn’t interfere with mine.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Then I’m in.”
That she made her decision so quickly impressed him. Either she knew a hell of a lot more about the Shey Group than she’d let on, or she was a risk taker after his own heart. Either way, he wanted to know her better. “I understand you’ve been doing your own research into Hathaway.”
She frowned at her computer. “My system’s been hacked by the Shey Group?”
“I’m not sure how we came by the information.” That kind of data was on a need-to-know basis. So his response wasn’t a lie, but he suspected she was correct. Ryker Stevens was a computer specialist for the Shey Group and Bolt had seen him perform miracles. The man had a knack for breaking encryption systems that couldn’t be broken. He’d once tapped into a Chinese system to find a launch code against Taiwan, allowing Bolt to convince a diplomat that he needn’t start a war.
She crossed her arms under her breasts, her tone firm. “If we have an FBI leak, I need to report it.”
Usually the Shey Group played by the rules, but sometimes they used superior technology to find out what they needed. In her case, he really didn’t know how they’d come by the intel, but he tried to reassure her. “If you had a leak, it was authorized.” He shifted in his seat. “What can you tell me about Hathaway?”
Amanda hesitated, then apparently let go of her suspicion of the Shey Group with a delicate shrug. “He’s wealthy, charming and he’s close to the models he represents, accompanying them on many shoots. He knows all the right people and is on every New York City A-list. There’s not a whiff of scandal attached to his name, but some hard digging has led me to find that he might be into Internet pornography. Yet he hides behind so many corporations I can’t untangle or prove anything. What bothers me most, though, is his reputation with women.”
“What about it?” he prodded, pleased to see that she’d dug up some dirt on Hathaway on her own. Amanda seemed to be everything the FBI claimed. She was smart, persistent and intuitive. Looking at her, he’d never have suspected she was directly behind preventing the importation on an arms cache into the metropolitan area. She’d even disobeyed her direct superior’s orders and led a field team to stop the train from leaving the depot, earning her a well-deserved promotion.
Exasperation clouded her eyes. “I don’t understand why my sister was attracted to Hathaway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Donna had just gone through a nasty divorce. She’d sworn off men. Then Hathaway makes an offer to represent her and she not only gives up a career she adored and the respect of her colleagues as head chemist at D&B Industries, but she falls for the guy.”
“Your sister and Hathaway were in a relationship?”
“A one-sided one. He still dated lots of other women. And my sister, who hated cheating men after an ugly situation with her ex, put up with Hathaway’s roaming ways.”
Amanda sounded so puzzled that Bolt gathered her sister was not the kind of woman to fall so suddenly, so hard. Amanda’s assessment supported Kincaid’s bizarre theory that Hathaway might have an unnatural hold on women.
“Could Hathaway have been blackmailing her?” he asked.
Amanda shook her head without hesitation. “She couldn’t have faked that kind of happiness. Not to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The last time I spoke to my sister, she was almost euphoric. Giddy. Elated. She actually told me that Hathaway might be the love of her life. If Hathaway had been blackmailing her, she wouldn’t have sounded so delighted.”
“I agree.” Still, he intended to examine Donna’s checkbook and credit card statements as well as her phone calls for anything unusual. Perhaps she’d been lying through her teeth to protect Amanda. While Amanda had probably already checked her sister’s financials, and in truth was more likely to notice a suspicious detail than he was, she wasn’t looking for the unexplainable.
Amanda raised her gaze to him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Her instinct that he was holding back on her was dead-on. Although he’d planned to wait until later to tell her about the paranormal properties of the perfume bottle, he repeated what Kincaid and the files had told him.
Surprisingly Amanda didn’t throw him out of the office. She listened, considering the possibilities of the gypsy-cursed antique bottle’s unknown properties with a seemingly open mind. She didn’t mock him. She didn’t say much at all about her belief or disbelief in the paranormal. And then she took the possibilities farther than he ever could have, running the paranormal idea in a new direction.
“You know, my sister only actually modeled for Hathaway twice. Do you suppose that was a cover?”
“For what?�
�� He had no idea where she was going, but she’d heard him out. Now it was his turn to listen and give her ideas the same consideration.
However, even now, his concentration was divided between the interesting conversation and her sexy calf. That she kept drawing his eyes to her leg by pumping her foot as she spoke had him struggling to keep his gaze on her face. Not that looking at her face was exactly a hardship. She’d used just a touch of mascara to enhance her lashes, and the high gloss of her lips as she spoke held him entranced.
“Donna was a genius at chemistry. Suppose Hathaway really hired her to examine the bottle?”
“Your file didn’t say you were brilliant.” His compliment was genuine. Her idea shot him into a totally new direction. He’d never made the connection between the bottle and Donna’s expertise as a chemist. “But how exactly could your sister’s skills help Hathaway?”
“I’m not sure.” Her brows narrowed. “Maybe Hathaway hired Donna to find out how the bottle worked. If there was a perfume residue or a scent, maybe he’d want her to duplicate the formula. Or suppose there were drugs in the bottle, Donna could analyze the formula and replicate it.” Amanda threaded her hand through her hair. “One thing I know for certain. My sister would never betray her country. While I can’t explain how her classified formula ended up in Pakistan on a terrorist’s hard drive, I do know she would never have given terrorists her work—one of her best friends died in the World Trade Center.”
He whistled softly at her implication. Kincaid was going to love this angle. “You think Hathaway might be responsible for your sister’s work ending up in terrorist hands?”
Amanda’s voice hardened with determination. “I can’t prove anything criminal about that man’s activities, but I will. Instinct tells me Hathaway is at the bottom of this mess.”
Her eyes dropped but not before he saw her despair and frustration. He stood and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find a connection.”
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