The Agent's Covert Affair

by Karen Anders

  “Yeah, movie star potential,” he scoffed. After pulling out fixings for a salad, he started cutting tomatoes.

  “You are, Derrick. Achingly handsome.”

  He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Tell me how you can sympathize with me so deeply on how it would be to never get Matty back.”

  He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. “I have a son, Emma. One that I can’t claim and can never see, interact with or support.”

  She gasped and choked on her wine. “Oh, Derrick.” She stared at him, her eyes wide.

  “It was a terrible mistake on my part. I got involved with an asset. Someone who could help with taking down a terrorist organization. It was my mission. I...fell in love with her and got her pregnant. An unmarried, pregnant woman would have been in danger.” He closed his eyes. “But more important, if my handler had ever found out, I would have been pulled and the mission in jeopardy.”

  “What did you do?”

  At the sound of the bubbling pot, he turned, reaching for the angel hair pasta, dropping the noodles into the water. “She married someone she was close to and gave birth to my son under a different man’s name.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Nine.”

  She got up and walked around the island and wrapped her arms around his waist. His expression serious, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “What is his name?”

  “Israr.”

  “That’s beautiful, sounds very masculine.” She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away, running her hand along his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Derrick. That must be so hard on you. Never to know him,” she whispered, her voice uneven. “You’ve been through so much in your life.”

  He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him, his voice gruff when he said, “It hurts every day, but I’m secure in knowing that they are both safe.”

  Her expression softened, and she kissed his mouth.

  She held him for a moment. Then she looked at the boiling water and said, “Hmm, I think I’ve been hoodwinked. Sure looks like boiling water and...noodles to me.”

  He chuckled, drawing her into a tight embrace. He closed his eyes, his heart turning over. Just like Afsana and her family, he would keep Emma safe and she would never know the agony of not having her nephew in her life.

  Chapter 16

  Emma sat back in her desk chair and stared out the window, frustrated beyond belief. She’d tried everything, exhausted all her contacts, but after two weeks digging and following up on even the smallest lead, she had nothing.

  Her cell phone rang and when she looked at the display, she let out a soft groan. It was a call from her grandmother.

  She answered. “Yes, Bess.”

  “I’m in the lobby of your office building. I’m coming up.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Emma, make time. I will be there in five minutes.”

  She ended the call and gritted her teeth.

  Emma wasn’t in the mood for an argument with her battle-ax of a grandmother, but there was no way to get out of it.

  Her grandmother had a perfectly cut page-boy haircut, sensible shoes and an impeccable beige suit; Emma swore she had nothing else in her closet to wear on her ruthlessly maintained body. She charged through the door exactly five minutes later. Her mouth was pinched in a line, the sanctimonious tilt of her chin and her righteous confidence she wore like armor meaning she was spoiling for a fight.

  There was never any greeting with Bess. No quick hugs and smiles or hellos. She just got right to the point. “Emma, what progress have you made? The State Department tells me that until they find Matthew, they can’t really start any legal proceedings. The Colombians have been cooperative, but unless they can discover where that slime drug lord has our boy, their hands are tied.”

  “I’m still working on it.”

  “It’s been weeks! You call yourself a private investigator? We have to get him back before Lily wakes up.”

  Emma clenched and unclenched her jaw, then spoke, her voice deadly quiet. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m doing the best I can,” she said.

  A muscle in her jaw twitched, and she drew a deep breath. “It’s not good enough.”

  She gave her a cold smile. “It never is, Bess. I was never good enough and neither was Lily. Why do you even care? You never even acknowledged him before now. What has changed?”

  She narrowed her eyes, a warning glint appearing. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “Why not, Grandmother?”

  “I am your elder and the woman that raised you. You will have respect.”

  “Respect is earned.” Emma sighed. “I’ve got an appointment,” Emma said, and grabbed her purse. She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she couldn’t stand being in her grandmother’s presence anymore. Bess caught her arm and hauled her up short, and Emma jerked her arm free and turned to face her. “There’s no need to talk about this anymore. I’m doing my best. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Well, I’m done talking to you.”

  She grabbed her arm and steered her over to a chair, her jaw set in determination. “Too bad, missy. We’re going to talk anyway. Sit.”

  Jerking her arm free again, Emma turned to face her grandmother. “I’m not a dog.”

  “Sit, Emma.”

  With an exasperated huff, Emma sat down. Folding her arms in a defensive stance, she stared across the room. She gave herself a minute, then she spoke, her voice taut. “What is it you want to talk about?”

  She released her breath in a frustrated sigh; then she said, “I have money, plenty of it. There are mercenaries out there for hire, are there not?”

  Emma made a soft sound and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, for the love of God.”

  When Emma raised her head, Bess met her gaze, and Emma was aware she was an inch away from losing her temper. Totally at a loss. “We can’t hire mercenaries because we don’t know where Matty is, Bess. We have to find him first.”

  An anguished look crossed her face and all the steam seemed to go out of her like a deflating balloon. Her voice caught and she reached for a chair, sinking down on the cushion. “You’re right. I’m grasping at straws.”

  Emma had never heard that defeated, soft tone in her grandmother’s voice before. She was always so...strong, distant, unapproachable. But her eyes grew moist. “All these years, I thought I was raising you both so well, to be tough, to weather anything. Lily was fragile and you both were so little when you came to me. But it was my fear and my failing that I couldn’t let you in. I was so raw after your father and mother were killed. I thought I could keep from loving you, not getting hurt if something happened to you, but all I’ve done is drive you both away. And now Matthew... I can’t bear it that he’s with that man and we’re all so fragmented. What you said to me was very hurtful, and I had to do a lot of soul searching the last few weeks. I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

  Emma gaped at her grandmother, unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth. She couldn’t deal with this right now. She closed her eyes and said, “Bess, it’s best to leave this up to me and NCIS. Please, just go home. I’ll let you know when I know something. I promise.”

  The look in her eyes was the old Bess, strong enough to strip steel. “You promise me, Emma.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if you need money for mercenaries or anything to get him back...you’ll come to me?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

  She closed her eyes. Her voice hoarse. “Yes. I’ll come to you.”

  “All right, then.” Bess rose and put her hand on Emma’s arm and squeezed. “Find him, Emma, and bring him home.”

  Immobilized with gut-wrenching pain a
nd fear, she sat there staring at the far wall. Finally, she rose and headed for the elevators, so much pressure boiling up in her that she could barely see. She had to find him. She had to. She walked out of the building, the frenzy in her chest making her tremble, the anger and the fear mixing into explosive proportions.

  She drove to Camp Pendleton and got admittance as a visitor to NCIS. She rode up in the elevator and when she stepped out, she just stood there as if she couldn’t find her way. Derrick spied her and rose, the smile at seeing her fading from his face.

  He came to her and she clutched at him. Without saying anything, he took her down the hall and into the conference room. “Have you heard something? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find him. I’ve tried everything, Derrick.” As if everything was crowding in on her, she wrapped her arms around herself. She worked at keeping her cool, then said, her voice barely audible, “Are you people even still looking for him?”

  “Of course we’re still looking,” he said, just as frustrated as she was. “I’m working on it every chance I get.”

  Her face ashen and her voice wobbling, she said, “But it’s not a priority anymore?”

  He’d forced himself to remain disengaged—not allowing any kind of feeling to surface. But now, as she stood there, her animation gone, the vibrancy beat right out of her, he experienced a rush of rage. She was beside herself with worry, her sister was still in a coma and her nephew was taken by a ruthless drug lord. He wanted to kill somebody.

  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, and Derrick could see tears gathering in her lashes. “He cannot be raised by that man. I won’t have it.” Her despair cut him to the quick. And something gave way inside him. He covered the space separating them. He’d already crossed the line anyway, grasping her hands between his.

  “Emma, you’ve got to trust me. He’s my priority.” He hadn’t wanted to say anything until it was certain, but he needed to give her some hope. “I’m waiting for some intel. But until that happens, we wait.”

  “Intel?”

  His heart stuttering, he tightened his hold, rubbing her hands between his. “I’m using contacts from when I was in service.”

  An unquenchable flicker of hope broke free, and she grasped his arms. “This would be solid?”

  “Yes, but I’m not saying any more right now until something comes through. I don’t want you involved in this anymore.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she pulled her hands free, her expression turning mutinous. “What? You said we were going to do this together.”

  “I’ve changed my mind and I’ve got to do...things to get him back. Things you can’t be involved with.”

  Her chin lifted and her eyes flashed. “Why?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. When she’d walked into the office, she’d looked like she was on the verge of panic. He didn’t give that panic a chance to gather momentum. She opened her mouth again and he held up his hand. “Emma, stop.”

  “But Derrick. You’re not being reasonable. You let me go before. You said I was helpful and valuable. What has changed? Tell me why I—”

  “Because it’s too damned awful, Emma,” he said, his voice low and fierce.

  She never took her eyes off him, and his gut clenched when she closed her eyes and swallowed. The anguished look on his face said it all. He didn’t want her to see him be as ruthless and brutal as the men who took Matty. There was law and order and polite society. Everyone lived here because men like him and Robin were doing the jobs that no one wanted to do to keep the country safe. Someone had to get their hands dirty and his were stained in blood already.

  He watched her fighting her little fight, and he respected her for that. And he knew it just wasn’t in her nature to go down without a struggle. She took a breath and wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. “Derrick,” she whispered. “I would never judge you.”

  “I know you’re not naive with the ways of the world. You were a cop, so I know that. It’s just I have to...ah, dammit...do the kind of things that I left in my past. I told you I would do what it takes and it’s going to take someone like me who knows how to extract information the hard way.”

  “What does that mean? Are you going back?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No, Emma.”

  She wasn’t so down and out that she couldn’t even scrape up a decent dirty look. “Yes. Do you think I care what we have to do? Do you think I won’t do anything in my power to have him back safe with us?”

  He looked away, knowing that she might say that now, but when faced with the kind of things he was going to have to do to get the information he needed... Faced with that brutality, she would change her mind. It did matter. But that had never stopped him. “It’ll be different. You think you’ll be okay with it until it happens. This won’t be easy and it’s not legal. You’ve always stayed within the letter of the law as a cop, and as a PI you’re also governed by laws.”

  “You’re not?”

  A cold sensation spread through his middle, and his insides bunched into a hard knot. “Not in this case. I’m leaving my badge here, and I’m not sure I’ll have a job when I get back.”

  Clearly struggling with a whole bunch of emotions, she tipped her head back, wrestling with his plan of action. “Derrick—”

  “It’s just a job, Emma. I can get another one.” It hurt, really hurt, to think he wouldn’t be part of NCIS anymore, but he couldn’t work within their parameters on this one. Just like his black op mission to shadow Rock Kaczewski in the Darién Gap, he couldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone. He was as alone as he’d been in the field, the whole of his life. But without his willingness to do what needed to be done, she would surely lose that kid, just as completely as he’d lost his own, and that was something he couldn’t bear. “Compared to the future that awaits Matty if we don’t get him back, it’s inconsequential.”

  “I know you’re saying that for my benefit, and I know you believe that, but I also know those people mean something to you. They’re special.”

  He closed his eyes and said in a low voice, “They are. But Emma, I’m still doing this.”

  “And so am I.”

  He huffed out a breath and they separated. He understood her need to go with him. He did, but the thought of her in danger and anywhere near Francisco Flores made his blood run cold. “All right, but you’ll have to do exactly what I say every step of the way.”

  “Sounds familiar,” she said with a ghost of a smile.

  He looked down at her, humor tugging at his mouth. “Dissension in the ranks already?”

  Pulling his head down, she brought his mouth into full contact with hers.

  The kiss was slow, soft and so unbelievably gentle that it left him absolutely breathless, and his whole body turned to jelly. “I’ve got to get back to work and let you get back to yours,” she whispered against his mouth. “Tonight?”

  “Yes, I should be off at five.”

  She caressed his jaw, tipping her head to one side, her expression changing as she considered him. Finally, she spoke, her voice very soft and very husky. “Did anyone ever tell you that you make one hell of a white knight, Very Special Agent Derrick Gunn?”

  Caught off guard by her comment, he stared at her. He didn’t want her thinking that. He wasn’t a white knight by a long shot. His intentions toward her were not pure.

  * * *

  Derrick woke up, the vestiges of a nightmare crowding against his now waking mind. The warmth against him made him recalibrate his thinking. He wasn’t accustomed to having someone in his bed. He opened his eyes, so aware of Emma’s body against his. The fading sky that preceded dawn was illuminating the room, and Derrick turned his head and looked at her; the kind of feeling that rushed through him, he w
anted it every day of his life.

  She was sleeping on her side, facing him, a lone leg drawn up, her breathing deep and even. The windows had been left open all night, and the room was filled with the sound of ocean waves. Bracing his weight on his elbow, he ran his hand down her bare arm; then he reached over, tugged the sheet loose and drew it over her. He watched her sleep for a long time, until parts of his body started sending him messages that had nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with getting closer to her. For an instant he indulged in the sensual memories from last night, the lovemaking off the charts as usual.

  Emma sighed and shifted beside him, her hand brushing against his arm, and he glanced back down at her, suddenly feeling things he didn’t want to feel, wanting things he wasn’t sure he could keep, knowing he would never be able to lie in this bed again without seeing her there. The thickness in his chest climbed higher, and he rolled onto his back, resting one arm across his forehead as he stared into the gloom. This part of their relationship was damned easy—so easy.

  It was the rest of it that he wasn’t sure about; the uncertainty of the future never used to bother him before, but losing Matty and not getting him back could tear her apart. Losing his own son would have if he hadn’t compartmentalized the whole damn thing and tucked it away. He had to because doing so would save many, many soldiers’ lives.

  Unsettled about his feelings for Emma, he got up and pulled on his jeans, then went over to the windows and looked at the ocean. Usually it soothed him. Today, there wasn’t enough water on the planet to do that.

  Casting one last look at the sleeping form in his bed, he left the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind him.

  The breeze through the open patio door rattled the blinds, and Derrick closed the door, then went into the kitchen. He filled the reservoir on the coffeemaker and put fresh grounds in the basket, his movements automatic and detached. Flipping the switch to start it brewing, he went and stood in front of the patio door, a hollow feeling unfolding in him. Bracing one arm on the window frame, he stared out, wishing the hole in his gut would go away.