by Lexi Blake
His eyes narrowed. “You were going to Misery that poor woman.”
Kay shrugged because she probably was. “Zanetti needs to write faster if she doesn’t want to spend some time with me. My point is you’re very negative.”
Fain sat back in his chair, his handsome lips curling slightly. “And you are way more of a handful than Damon mentioned. I think there’s a reason he nearly cackled with glee when I asked to take you off his hands for a few months.”
“Is that any way to talk about a lady, Fain?” The second of her two CIA contacts joined them. She wasn’t sure where Levi Green had been for the past thirty minutes, but from the flight attendant’s slightly mussed hair and flushed skin, she would bet that Green had been vetting the staff. Well, vetting her vagina at least.
Though there had been that one time in Seoul where that counteragent had managed to stuff a small pistol up there, so maybe she should thank Green for making absolutely certain the flight attendant wasn’t packing.
The only thing she knew for sure was that Green appeared to be having way more fun than Fain. He sank into the chair beside hers, a glass of Scotch in his hand.
“It’s good of you to finally join us.” Yep. Fain sounded like an outraged Victorian spinster.
Green tipped his glass Fain’s way. “You know I love a good briefing. And don’t be hard on our Miss Kay. She’s getting into the role. She’ll be sipping champagne in Malibu in a few hours.”
“If she gets the job,” Fain pointed out. “You’re both acting like this is a done deal and it’s not. She’s got to interview for the part. We’re not in yet.”
“Audition,” Green corrected. “Get the lingo right, buddy. She’s got to audition for the part, but I have every faith in her that she’s going to get that callback. Chill, Ez. We’ve got this one. It’s all cool.”
Fain sat up, pointing down at the folder in front of her. “Have you read this?”
She sighed and put down her champagne. All work and no play was going to make Kayla a crabby girl. “I promise I read the file twice. I’ve seen every single movie Joshua Hunt has ever made, but why don’t we go over it one more time? In case I missed something.”
Because it was obvious there was some storm banging around Ezra’s head. There was more than the Joshua Hunt operation going on here and it was up to her to figure it out. He’d been on edge for days and that wasn’t like him. She’d come to rely on Fain being calm and collected. Prissy she could handle, but this anxiety she sensed in him had her worried.
Given that they would be working together for months, possibly, she needed him calm and cool.
“It’s a simple op,” Green said with a wave of his hand. “You could do it in your sleep.”
“There’s no such thing as a simple op,” Fain replied. “There are nuances to this thing and about a million moving pieces. Hunt himself is a bit of a mystery.”
She reached over and flipped the file open. She’d lied to Ezra. She’d gone over this file way more than twice. Joshua Hunt. America’s hottest action star. His last film banked over a billion worldwide. He was roughly six foot three, with dark hair and piercing eyes, but what he was truly good at was selling a scene. She believed him when he told a woman he loved her, when he squared his shoulders before some fictional battle, when he put a hand on his heart as he was dying.
He was an excellent actor, even better than the films they put him in, but he was also known for being incredibly private and reclusive.
He was fascinating, and that should scare her on some level. She knew it. She also knew that since she’d felt nothing for so long, feeling anything at all was worth it. Joshua Hunt could be dangerous, but more than likely she would find out he was a douchebag, over-privileged prince of a man and then her job would be a chore.
Because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this job would require sex.
“He doesn’t like to talk about his past,” she said. “I’ve spent the last few days going through every interview he’s ever given and while he will sometimes talk about little things in his life—who he’s dating, what shows he’s enjoying—he never talks about the past. Not even his childhood. The one time he got up from an interview and walked out, it was because the reporter kept asking about his father. I take it we know more.”
“Daddy was a nasty drunk.” Green crossed his long legs, sitting back and getting comfy. “We’ve got at least five domestic abuse complaints over the years. Joshua Hunt, whose real name is Joshua Stemmons, was born in a small town in Kansas. His mother died of cancer when he was five, but Daddy had a parade of girlfriends he liked to use as punching bags. Senior Stemmons went to jail when Josh was twelve and Josh hit the system.”
“He didn’t stay long,” Fain said. “At least we don’t think he did. Records show that Josh’s foster care family was paid for at least a year, but the police believe he ran away shortly after he arrived at the house. The parents and social worker were caught cashing checks for kids who were long gone. Josh was one of them. Whether he left on his own or they kicked him out, we have no idea. Those years are a blank. No arrests. No sign of him being in the system at all. He doesn’t surface again until he shows up in Los Angeles at the age of eighteen, living with a woman named Tina McArran, who became his first agent. He books his first commercial about six months later and the rest is history.”
Fain’s fingers tapped along the edge of his chair. He did that when he was thinking things through. Kay liked to know everyone’s tells. “As far as we know, this version of Joshua Hunt has stayed out of trouble. He’s been working in the film industry for fourteen years. He kept his first agent with him until she died a few years ago. Breast cancer. She left everything she had to him. He stood by her through the end, and by all accounts genuinely cared for her. He’s careful with his money. He’s never been accused of drug use or sexual indiscretions. He’s practically a saint in Hollywood.”
“He’s never been married, right?” She’d had a lot of Hollywood gossip to catch up on when she’d returned to the Western world. A decade as a double agent, pretending to be her own twin sister, had taken a toll on her pop culture knowledge.
For a second she wished she was back in London, cuddled up on the comfy couch in the media room with Tucker and Jax and Owen watching Die Hard and Star Wars and The Godfather. It was cool because they were experiencing them for the first time and she got to be their tour guide. They would all cuddle up under a big blanket and share a bucket of popcorn or a plate of cookies Penny had baked. Robert and the others would join them from time to time, but Tucker, Jax, and Owen were her boys. Her brothers from another mother. A mother none of the boys could remember because they’d had their minds wiped by an evil scientist, but then she kind of thought that big old mind erase was why they clicked. She’d worked with Owen when he knew who he was and he was way sweeter now.
She already missed the family she’d found in London.
But she hadn’t felt a spark with any of them. Her London family were brothers and sisters, and the fact that not a one of them stirred her sexually was cause for concern.
Had that part of her been burned out? She’d been faking normal for years now. Sex was nothing but another part of the job.
“No and he’s never announced an engagement, either,” Fain replied, bringing her out of her thoughts. “He’s dated several actresses publicly, but none for more than a year or so.”
“Any idea who put out word that he was into some of the kinkier sexual practices?” She stared down at the picture they had of him. He looked killer in a designer suit that had been tailored to fit his broad, strong body. Mirrored aviators covered his eyes and there was a pretty redhead on his arm. Some other actress. He was rarely seen with the same woman more than once or twice now.
Was he as cold as he looked? Cold and pristinely beautiful, all of his emotion saved for work? Maybe they had too much in common.
“Our intel points to one of his longer-term relationships,” Green replied.
“Shortly after they started dating, rumors began circulating that Hunt was into D/s. He managed to get the story quashed before the real truth came out and he hasn’t seen her since. Neither has a movie or TV screen. She hasn’t gotten a job in years. Mr. Hunt has some serious power players backing him up. The new rumor became the actress was lying to get attention for herself.”
“But she wasn’t lying about Josh, was she?” Otherwise, why would they be bringing her in? If there was one thing Kay had experience in it was the art of Dominance and submission.
“Nope, he’s a big old perv,” Green said with a charming smile.
The man could be deadly when he wanted to be, but then she’d found there was a certain type of operative the Agency liked to hire. There were always the worker bees, the ones who kept their heads down for years and years, mining for information and never once doing anything to bring attention to themselves. They were like nondescript sedans. Nothing to look at but those suckers were on the road forever. Levi Green was a Maserati. Showy and gorgeous, he would bust down the walls others would quietly and carefully dig under.
She was always wary of the Maseratis of this world. They were stunning and powerful, and sometimes spun out of control when you least expected them to.
Fain was more like a Jeep. Sure, he was hot when he smiled, but he could also put a baseball cap on and no one would notice him. He would take the hard trail around a problem and no one would see him coming.
Gosh, Fain sometimes reminded her of Bishop. It was probably the reason she trusted him the way she did.
“From what we can tell he’s a member of a club in Malibu called The Reef,” Green explained. “It’s super private, but not merely for the wealthy. Membership is closely guarded, but we put a man on the inside four weeks ago. Josh basically works and attends this club, that’s about all he does, so this should cover all our bases. Riley Blade has connections in this world and they were happy to hire him on as the Dom in Residence. He hasn’t gotten particularly close to Hunt, but then Hunt’s only been in twice, and he wasn’t with a submissive. He came in, watched a few scenes, and then went to the bar with another actor member, a man named Jared Johns. Our reports show they’re quite close friends. Johns was his mentor and trainer when Hunt first joined The Reef.”
Riley Blade worked as a bodyguard out of the Dallas McKay-Taggart offices, but Jared Johns had connections there, too. “Johns is Kai Ferguson’s brother. Have you thought about bringing him in?”
Fain shook his head. “Absolutely not, and that’s why we’re being careful about the team. Johns isn’t close to his brother, though I know they talk from time to time. Johns was responsible for Hunt being willing to talk to McKay-Taggart about his security issues. He’s already hired on Shane Landon and Declan Burke, but I made sure he’s never met Blade. Johns is the one who got you the intervie…er, audition, and you should expect to spend some time with him. We need to work this from several different angles.”
What Fain really meant was they needed to work Hunt. “And all of this is because some drug dealer in Mexico is his biggest fan?”
Green set his Scotch down and clapped his hands together like a boy eager to play. “El Comandante. He runs the single nastiest cartel in Southern Mexico, and that’s saying something. The rumors are he used to be in the Mexican military and runs his operation with the same precision he was taught there. He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. In the last four years, we’ve attributed over a hundred bodies to what we call the Jalisco Cartel.”
“The name comes from the state we know the cartel is based in, though they’ve now spread out and cover a lot of territory,” Fain admitted. “The Commander has become a big-time player, and you know what that means.”
She did. “He’s got heavy ties to narcoterrorism.”
It was always fun when the bad guys got together to create some chaos. And to make a shit ton of cash. “Terrorist groups are working with cartels, sometimes they are the cartel, in order to make money to fund the Jihad. Mexico is one of the biggest recruitment centers for radical Islamic terrorists. That’s why the Agency is interested. You think this Commander person can lead you to bigger enemies.”
“It’s worse, Kay.” Fain had gone positively grim. “We’re fairly certain the Commander discovered one of our plants. We imbedded a long-term operative in the Jalisco organization four years ago. He’s steadily moved up and gotten closer to command. Ten days ago, he failed to make a routine contact. He’s been radio silent since and we can’t find any trace of him.”
Her stomach clenched. Yeah, she knew a little bit about that. She’d been undercover for years, always terrified that any minute someone would figure out who she was and she would wish she were dead. MSS could be terrible to loyal agents. They didn’t mind a bit of torture to keep the morale where they wanted it to be. She’d been interrogated more than once. She couldn’t imagine what they would have done to her had they found out she wasn’t who she said she was.
She would have been alone because the Agency would have denied her very existence. It would have caused an international incident. It was good to know that when it wouldn’t cost them too much, they were willing to try to figure out what had happened to an agent. “So the plan is for me to make Joshua Hunt feel comfortable and safe enough that he’ll agree to go into a drug lord’s house for a party? Because you understand he would have to be insane to do that.”
A chill went over Green’s face. “Well, then you’ll have to drive him a little crazy, won’t you?” It was gone in an instant, replaced with another sunny smile. “Hunt doesn’t know that the Mexican businessman named Hector Morales who keeps inviting him down for the weekend is a drug lord. He and Hector have met in California several times and it was all cordial. Josh is filming in and around Mexico City in a few weeks. You don’t have to convince him to go. He’s spending the weekend there. Hector writes big checks to Josh’s charities. There’s some question as to how close in business the two are. You’re simply going to convince him to take you with him.”
“And it hasn’t occurred to you to sit Hunt down and ask him to go? Tell him what you need him to do and why,” Kay offered. “I’ve found oftentimes men like Hunt want to do the right thing. He’s played plenty of military characters. He likely thinks he could handle it. Of course, that’s precisely why I would be there. Then we don’t have to deal with all this subterfuge.”
“You want me to entrust a high-level operation to a Hollywood actor?” Green asked. “First off, I would have to get him clearance, and that’s not happening. Second, I’m still not sure our intelligence is correct and that Hunt isn’t working with El Comandante. That’s part of what I need you to figure out.”
Fain held up a hand. “Kay, this is the only way this particular op gets done, and the Agency has its reasons. If you can’t handle it, I need to know now.”
Her first instinct was to tell him to shove his op up his own anus. She wasn’t some newbie. She was a decorated field operative, and it was obvious there was more to this mission than met the eye. It would be smart to tell him no.
And then she caught a glimpse of that picture. Joshua Hunt, beautiful and remote. Untouchable, and yet here he was trying to pay someone to touch him.
“I’ll get the job done,” she promised.
Green held his glass up. “We know you will.”
And while she was handling Joshua Hunt, she would figure out what was happening inside the Agency because there was something neither of these men were telling her.
She sat back, sipping her champagne and watching the byplay between the men. Sex and secrets.
Her job never changed.
* * * *
Beverly Hills, CA
“The producer of four of your films was recently accused of tax evasion. Do you have any comment on that, Mr. Hunt?” The brunette in front of him had her phone out. He thought he remembered her from some long ago press junket, but he couldn’t quite place the name.
Joshua Hu
nt bit back a groan. His freaking job never changed. Smile when you don’t want to. Keep a civil tongue in your head when all you truly wanted to do was tell someone to fuck off. Never scream the way he wanted to.
Yeah, his life hadn’t changed at all when he thought about it. It was just the trappings were all lovely and designer.
“No, I can’t comment on that. Please, we’re trying to have a quiet lunch. Why don’t you send any questions you have to my publicist,” he said smoothly, wishing he’d done what his instincts had told him to do. He’d wanted to ask for a private table, but Jared was all about the light.
They’d walked through Spago’s classically elegant bar, done in rich masculine colors, and entered the dining room, a stunning indoor conservatory bathed in natural light, and Jared had gone right for the middle of the room. He hadn’t waited for the hostess to seat them, merely found his spot in the sun and gave the lady a smile no woman could possibly resist.
Well, except the one Jared actually wanted, hence Josh being indulgent when he should have known there would be some nosy reporter hanging around.
“All right, how about a couple of pictures of the two of you?” The reporter stood over them. It was obvious she’d been here with some friends, but she wasn’t about to let the chance go by. “You seem close these days. Anything we should know about?”
“He’s an amazing kisser,” Jared said with a grin.
Josh rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage her.”
He looked toward the bar and finally gave the nod to the man who’d been standing up and waiting for the signal since the moment the woman had approached. He’d hoped they could brush her off without bringing the bodyguards into it.