by Lucy Monroe
“You don’t like talking about that kind of stuff?”
“Not particularly. No.”
“Why not? I always figured you for the orange blossom and white picket fence type of woman. I’d say that kind of talk was right up your alley.”
If he knew the kind of fantasies she had about him, he wouldn’t make such assumptions. The only kind of fences she thought about lately were the type she could tie him to and then have her wicked way with all that incredible male flesh. “I guess you don’t know me very well, do you?”
“You saying I’m wrong?” He sounded truly shocked by the prospect…and intrigued.
She wondered why? She wasn’t the intriguing type. “Dead wrong. Weddings and marriage are off my radar.”
“Forever?” he asked disbelievingly.
She sighed. “For a long time.”
The only man she was interested in at the moment was him, but she wanted his body not his heart. As candidates went for future husband of the year, he was everything she knew didn’t apply.
“You surprise me, Sunshine.”
“It’s good to know that even a crack agent like yourself can’t read me completely.”
He looked at her and in that instant she felt like he was seeing inside her, that the fantasies she had were laid bare. Her mind told her it was impossible. The decadent fantasies she had could not be seen on her face, but it was all she could do to break eye contact with him.
It helped that two more of the agents had come into the room. Isaac, a big black man with bulging muscles that even a suit jacket could not hide, a smoothly shaven head, and a rich, deep voice that sounded like hot fudge pouring over ice cream, was talking to an older agent. Bennett looked like a mild-mannered accountant but had a black belt in judo and could kill with his bare hands. He was also a crack computer hacker.
They were discussing the newest covert camera developed in the technology lab and sat down still arguing its merits and shortcomings. It was a good thing Vannie wasn’t there to hear them. She’d have broken something over Isaac’s head for sure. He was of the opinion that a lady’s compact with a camera was passé and that the lab shouldn’t waste their time developing outmoded ideas.
Soon after Isaac and Bennett’s arrival, one of the female agents came in. Elle had glossy black hair and was almost six feet tall. She was also gorgeous, but was more lethal than the older male agent who had come in before her. She could handle any weapon and throw a knife to kill a mosquito at a distance.
A second later, Jayne came in. She was one of their deepest cover operatives. The world knew her as a highly exclusive exotic dancer, but in reality, she was one of their best agents. Beth had always wondered why she and Ethan never hooked up, but in the two years she’d worked for the agency, she’d never seen Jayne give any man even a second blink, much less a look.
Alan sauntered in behind her, talking to Drew. Drew wasn’t a regular field agent but was so conversant in the world of high-tech that he was invaluable to the agency in his role as information gatherer. He knew when things were going down and spent hours every day tracking the movement of technological information worldwide.
Alan was smart to be picking Drew’s brain about his first case, as she was sure he was doing.
“What’s that look for?” Ethan asked.
Her gaze skittered back to him. “Look?”
“The one you’re giving the new guy. For someone who denies interest, you sure are watching him intently.”
“I’ve been watching everyone as they come through the door. I’m taking notes. Would you like to see?” she asked as she spun her mininotebook for him to see where she was logging each agent’s attendance on her spreadsheet. “It’s my job.”
“Well, you didn’t look at the other agents the way you looked at Hyatt.”
“If you must know, I was thinking he was smart to be picking Drew’s brain. Not every field agent realizes how important Drew’s knowledge is to the running of TGP.”
“I do.”
“I know you do.” Was this conversation as bizarre as she thought it was, or was she overly sensitive?
Agents were a strange breed.
“Why don’t you look at me like that?”
Because she was too busy trying not to look at him like she wanted to devour him, but she wasn’t about to say so. “You’re being annoying and I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe the way you look at Hyatt bugs me.”
This conversation was definitely entering the realm of the bizarre. “I don’t look at him any special way, but if I did, I don’t know why it would bother you.”
“I didn’t say it would.” He frowned, as if he just realized how strange their conversation was. “The old man is late.”
“He always comes in last.”
“I swear he’s got the room wired and an alarm goes off in his office once everyone else shows up.”
She smiled. “No alarm. Just an IM. From me.”
“So, that’s how he does it. Sneaky.”
“Efficient.”
“You are that.”
“Who says it was my idea?”
“I do.”
“It just happens that you are right.”
“I usually am.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The man was too confident for his own good.
Her father walked in, talking on the Bluetooth headset attached to his glasses. The room went quiet. Her dad cut the connection to his cell phone and took his place at the other end of the conference table.
“Listen up, people, we’ve got a lot to go over.”
The briefing went pretty much as she’d expected, right down to how hard it was to sit next to Ethan without ogling him. He kept invading her personal space, too. Using the pretext of reading her notes and then reaching across her to grab a mug and the coffee carafe from the center of the table and finally to point out that she’d missed something in her notes.
Which she never did, but her body was zinging with the electricity generated by his nearness to such an extent she felt like she needed a transformer before she blew a brain circuit.
“Okay, that’s about it, except the Prescott case.”
Ethan shifted beside her, his expression going cold. “I’m hitting a wall, but something is going to break soon.”
“It already has.” Her father tossed a newspaper on the table. A tiny ad in the employment section was circled.
Isaac pushed it down the table to Ethan, who read it. Beth peeked over his shoulder so she could, too. It read:
Eccentric millionaire seeks gofer to watch stock trends, oversee market investments, and keep employer apprised of personal stock movement as well as market trends. Position is part-time and in-house. Confidentiality a must as is experience in the field. Prefer applicants with quiet demeanor and ability to work without extensive supervision.
“He’s looking for a gofer?” Ethan asked.
“He calls it that, but the position sounds a little more specified.”
“In the newspaper?”
“He wants someone to watch his stocks and investments.”
“So why not go with an investment counselor?”
“It’s not all that uncommon for the superwealthy to want a private party to take care of their investments. There is the belief that if you work for more than one client, your loyalty to their financial welfare could be compromised.” Beth knew what she was talking about.
Prior to her father hiring her, she’d worked for one of the biggest stock brokerage agencies in the country. She’d hated her job and had jumped at the chance to work in a different environment. Even when her father had insisted she take basic agent training to work as TGP’s Central Administrative Agent.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if you’re investing millions of dollars rather than a few thousand. At that level, buying stock that earns an extra cent per share can mean huge income differentials.”
“So why does
he call himself an eccentric millionaire?” Bennett asked.
“Probably because his lifestyle would be questioned otherwise. We know Arthur Prescott is all about money. He wants lots of it, and investing his ill-gotten millions is just another way of guaranteeing that he makes more.” When she was done speaking, Beth realized that she should probably have let Ethan answer that.
He was the agent assigned to the case after all.
He didn’t look irritated, though. He was thinking. Silently.
“So he’s looking for a glorified clerk?” Isaac asked.
“Not hardly. He’s looking for his own private investment counselor. Someone who is willing to work part-time, move to the small coastal town he’s living in, and work on-site.”
“How do you know he expects someone to move?”
“Because he advertised in the major Portland and Seattle newspapers, not the tiny gazette that services the small town about ten miles from his cliff-top home,” her dad answered this time.
“I can’t believe he advertised at all.” Ethan’s brow was still furrowed in thought.
And privately Beth agreed, but she said, “He must be pretty arrogant.”
“Or sure he can tell an agency plant from a real counselor.”
“That’s a difficult background to fake if he’s got any experience in the area himself.”
Her father nodded, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction. “Exactly. This kind of thing takes an expert.”
Ethan said, “Agents are trained to simulate expertise.”
“But there are some things that are harder to emulate than others and a genuine background in this field is one of them. In addition to that, the man wants someone who is nonthreatening. The bookish type, for lack of a better term.”
“You got all that from his request for applicants with a quiet manner?” Ethan asked.
“Yes. Didn’t you?”
Ethan sighed. “Yes. Actually, I did. But I can do bookish.”
James Bond? She didn’t think so. Beth burst out laughing and a couple of the other agents snickered.
Her father sighed while Ethan glared at her.
“I’m a good agent.”
“I never said you weren’t, but playing the humble administrative role is one I would dearly love to see you acting out,” Whit said. “Fortunately I have a better plan.”
“You do?” Beth asked her father, feeling wary for no reason she could discern.
“Yes. We put you in as the mole and Ethan plays the part of your boyfriend, a much more suitable role to his personality. He’s a writer who has been wanting to move to the West Coast for inspiration. You see this job offer as a godsend so you can stay with him.”
It was a believable scenario and more tempting than she’d ever let on, but for one problem. “I’m not an agent.”
“And I don’t need you to be. It’s Ethan’s job to use the in you’ll give him to take Prescott down.”
“But this isn’t how we do things,” she said faintly.
Her dad knew she did not want to be an agent. He knew that fieldwork was the farthest thing from what she wanted to do. Especially a job that would require this kind of proximity to Ethan.
“We could use another agent, but we’d have to pull someone in from a different agency for the expertise. We don’t have time for Ethan or anyone else to bone up enough on this. You have legitimate work experience to use for references and the mild-mannered personality he’s looking for, Elizabeth. Not to mention that your background is going to be very tempting to Prescott.”
“You mean he’ll see her as a source of information?” Jayne asked.
“I believe so. Yes. Her mother has political connections and as far as anyone knows I work for the State Department.”
“You don’t think that will tip him off?” Ethan asked. “You want to use her real identity?”
“Beth’s life is an open book except for her job here. The more real the person we plant as a mole is, the better chance we have of getting one on the inside. Arthur Prescott did not get where he is by being easily fooled.”
“But she’s not an agent,” Ethan said, repeating her words. “It’s too dangerous for her and the case to send her in.”
Beth agreed, but didn’t get a chance to say so.
“She trained, she just never used the training.”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
Her dad’s expression turned cold and stern. “I’m well aware you have no desire to be an agent, but TGP needs you, Elizabeth. Are you going to turn the assignment down?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“There are always choices, Elizabeth, but your interview is set up for the day after tomorrow at 9 A.M. Your letter of application is in this file, along with a brief detail on my recommendation for your cover with Ethan.”
“I’m the agent in charge on this case, why wasn’t I informed of this prior to these steps being taken?”
“The advertisement came out when you were finishing up your last case. You’d already started preliminaries on Prescott, but you had other fish to fry at the time.”
Beth wanted to welcome Ethan to her world but managed to keep the flippant comment to herself.
Her dad turned to her. “You’re a shoe in for the position, Elizabeth.”
“Who will cover my duties while I am gone?”
“You’ve been asking for another admin, so I hired one. She’ll cover for you while you are away.”
“But she won’t have any time to train.”
“You’ll be available via computer and phone and I will be here.”
Her dad had no clue how key her role was in the agency, but he would learn and maybe in doing so…he would get a small lesson in not dictating other people’s lives without giving them any input.
“If I’m working for Prescott, I won’t be available all the time.”
“We’ll make do.”
“Assuming she gets the job.”
Now that nettled. “I assure you…the man would be a fool not to hire me. I’m exactly what he wants.”
Ethan frowned. “You’ll be working with me, Beth…as the subordinate agent. Remember that.”
Something thrilled through her at his dominant tone, but she was careful to keep her expression cool. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m still not comfortable with the level of risk for your daughter,” Ethan said to her dad.
Whit frowned. “In this building, she’s an employee, and right now she’s the best chance we have of getting an in with Prescott. That’s all that matters.”
The words sliced through Beth, but she didn’t let that show either. When had anything but the job mattered to her father?
“Besides, you’ll watch out for her. You’re too good at your job to let her get found out.”
“You’ve got me slated as a writer? How is that more my speed than bookish?”
“Writers can be eccentric, brooding, whatever. And I never said you couldn’t do bookish.”
Personally, Beth thought Ethan could probably do brooding very well. Her dad dismissed the other agents, but he and Ethan stayed in the room to finish discussing the Prescott case.
“So a relationship between us is my cover,” Ethan mused.
“Yes. Toward that end, you two need to spend some time together off hours. You know the drill. Your connection has to appear to have depth and as Elizabeth and you both pointed out, she’s not an agent. She’ll have a hard time faking it.”
“You want us to have a relationship?” Ethan asked, sending Beth’s pulse ricocheting toward the moon.
“I want you to be comfortable enough with each other for it to be believable.”
Ethan nodded, while Beth got her breathing under control.
“So, we spend time together off hours.”
“I’m not going skydiving as a form of togetherness.”
“What would you rather do, meet at the library?” Ethan mocked.
What she’d rather do was get the guy na
ked, but that was taking the pseudorelationship a step too far. Make that several steps too far. “The library sounds like a good place for a writer to meet his girlfriend.”
“A certain kind of writer, maybe, but not me, baby.”
There was that baby word again. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made the images of what it might be like cuddled in this man’s lap more vivid to her mind’s eye.
“I’m sure you two can find a common ground.”
She opened her eyes, doing her best not to hyper-ventilate. “Arthur Prescott is never going to believe I’m dating a man like Ethan. He’s not my type.”
“Aren’t I?” Ethan asked, just as if he knew the kinds of fantasies that kept her awake at night.
“No one is your type at the moment, Elizabeth. And Ethan is a damn good agent. He’ll have no trouble playing his role convincingly.”
“What about me? I’m not an agent…. I don’t play roles.”
“Are you turning down the assignment?” her father asked in that no-nonsense voice that meant he wanted a straight answer. Now.
She looked at Ethan.
“I want the bastard, Beth. I’m not comfortable with you being the connection between us, but I’m damned if I can see another way in.”
She’d taken the job with TGP because she wanted something different in her life, but she’d taken it for another reason, too. She believed in the work her dad and the other agents were doing. She really did. She might hate the toll it had taken on her life with her dad, but she admired and respected him for what he had done for his country. She couldn’t help feeling that way.
And she couldn’t help wanting to bring a lowlife like Arthur Prescott down, too. The man had no loyalty to his country, no consideration for the safety and welfare of others, and too much opportunity to wreak havoc in their technocentric world.
She sighed. “Maybe we could start with dinner?”
Her dad took it for the tacit agreement it was and nodded approvingly.
Ethan’s eyes darkened with something she did not understand. “Dinner. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” she squeaked, back to the verge of hyper-ventilation. “We don’t even know if he’ll hire me yet.”
“He will,” her father said with confidence.