by Lucy Monroe
“Can I go with you? I’d like to explore the woods a little.”
“No problem.” But a tightening around his mouth indicated a lack of enthusiasm for the idea.
“I can go for a walk on my own, if you’d rather.”
“Not happening.”
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“I said you could come with me.”
“I sort of sensed you’d rather I not.”
“Being around you without being able to touch you is a strain, Sunshine, but I’m not a hormonal kid. I can handle it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
His understanding made her feel guilty, which was really pathetic. But there it was. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”
He turned to face her full on, his face cast in grim lines. “Hearing that is not helping. I respect your choice. Let’s leave it at that, all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll stay here.”
“No. I’d rather you came.”
“But—”
“You need to be familiar with our surroundings for your own safety. This is a job and we both have to remember that.”
“How can I forget? We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“No, we wouldn’t. Let me finish my interior recon and then we’ll go.”
“Okay.”
The walk in the woods was a revelation. Ethan discreetly pointed out where they had motion sensors set up for the security system, he also showed her where a hidden assailant could see right in through the master bedroom window and the kitchen window. There was no such covered spot for spying on the living room or smaller front bedroom.
However, he still reiterated his desire she close curtains before getting ready for bed and going into the second bedroom to sleep.
“We’ll have to do some cuddling on the couch watching television and light touching now and then in case we’re watched.”
“Why would he watch us?”
“He didn’t get where he is in high-tech espionage by being careless with a new employee. We know he ran a background check on you. It would only make sense for him to follow it up with at least cursory surveillance in the beginning.”
“So, we have to act like a couple when we are alone?” The thought made her stomach knot.
Not touching Ethan…not begging to be touched by him was growing more difficult with each passing hour. If they had to touch and pretend to be a couple when there was no one overtly around to help keep her urges under control, she was afraid she was going to lose the battle with herself.
“Don’t worry, we can shut the curtains when it gets dark like any normal couple and hide our physical distance from prying eyes then.”
“You really did think it would be easier to run this assignment if we were in a sexual relationship.”
“I thought you’d already decided that.”
“I just didn’t realize all the ramifications of living together I guess. I thought we’d be off camera when we were alone at the cabin.”
“Mistakes like that lead to blown covers.”
“Sorry. I’m not an agent.”
“I don’t expect you to be. Follow my lead and we’ll be fine.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder, obviously taking his own advice to heart. “Okay?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a mere squeak, but she was doing everything she could not to run a possessive hand over his chest.
She allowed herself to lean into him, telling herself she was trying to look natural, but underneath she knew she did it because she simply couldn’t help herself.
Beth looked forward to going to work for Prescott as much because it would get her away from Ethan’s presence as that she could start doing the job she’d been assigned. Ever since the walk, Ethan had continued the policy of “looking like lovers” whenever they were in a position to be observed. By the time they had closed the curtains the night before, she’d been a walking mass of oversensitive nerve endings.
And she’d missed his touches—the freedom to touch him—until it was a gaping ache inside her. On the other hand, besides a couple of speculative looks she could not read, Ethan acted as if he wasn’t affected at all. He’d simply spent more time going over strategy and what they knew about Prescott.
She’d gone to bed determined to do a better job today of maintaining her emotional distance. So far, so good.
After being waved through the gate, Ethan pulled up in front of Prescott’s house and stopped the car. He turned to Beth, reaching to cup her nape. She realized he was going to kiss her a scant second before he did so. His lips covered hers with possessive tenderness that felt all too real. He didn’t linger, but he was thorough so that when he pulled away, she sat dazed for a couple of seconds.
“Be good today,” he said.
She nodded and got out of the car, forcing herself not to feel her still-tingling lips. The man really knew how to kiss.
The job was very much as she expected and Beth actually found she liked the full-time secretary, Audrey Fisk, as well as the security guard assigned to the house.
“Mr. Prescott has a lot of security,” she said to Audrey at one point.
The older woman shrugged pencil-thin shoulders. “He’s a very wealthy man. In today’s world, he needs it.”
Prescott allowed his secretary to brief Beth on her job, but made a point of stopping by her desk to ask how things were going later that day.
“Great. I should have a preliminary analysis of your portfolio to you within a couple of days.”
“Good.”
He didn’t linger, but he stopped by her desk twice more for small talk before she left for the day. The rest of the week fell into a similar pattern and Ethan made no bones about the fact that he didn’t like how much personal attention Prescott was showing her. Since Beth wasn’t encouraging the man, she didn’t feel she was going against the agent in charge on the case.
But she thought that it was a good thing. Ethan would think so, too…if she’d been an actual agent. She was the conduit, though, and common sense dictated that the more personable her relationship with Prescott, the better chance she would have of opening doors for Ethan’s investigation.
That Thursday, Prescott came in to see her and leaned against her desk. “How are things going? Do you like the job?”
“It’s familiar…easy, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“No. I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled, the look not quite warming the depths of his eyes. “I’m impressed with your recommendations on diversification already.”
She’d created a report for him the day before with some basic changes recommended to his investment plan. “I’ll give you a more detailed analysis next week, but I need to research your investments and markets of interest more thoroughly before I do.”
He leaned a little closer. “I knew you were the right woman for the job.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She scooted her chair back a little.
Where Ethan’s sensuality could reach out and wrap around her like a blanket, this man’s masculine presence choked her.
Mocking amusement filled his eyes at her movement. “You remember I told you about some possible after-hours work time?”
“Um…yes.”
“I’m having a little get-together with some business associates tomorrow night. I’d like you to be there to offer your advice.”
She bit her lip, having no problem manufacturing an image of nervousness. “I don’t suppose my boyfriend could come?”
Prescott’s eyes narrowed, but he surprised her by nodding. “Certainly. An author might make an interesting addition to the gathering…keep things more social than business.”
When she told Ethan on their way to Portland to pick up his car and the kittens, he frowned.
“I thought you’d be glad for the invite in.”
“I am. I’m just wondering why he’d let me come.”
“He said he
wanted to keep the evening more social than business.”
“But he invited you on the pretext of business.”
“As to that, I’m not sure it was business he was thinking about.”
“Was he coming on to you?”
“No, but—”
“What?”
“It was nothing, but he’s not a man who respects the normal barriers of personal space. I shy away from him when he gets too close. It amuses him. I think he likes to play with people.”
“I think you’re right. That might be another reason he’s letting me come. He sees me as the controlling boyfriend…he might get a perverse pleasure out of showing me that he has some control over you, too.”
“I could see him doing exactly that. Lucky for us, we don’t have a real relationship and his twisted games can’t hurt us.”
“I think they can hurt you.”
“Not a chance. He gives me the willies, but I can handle it. You should have met some of the men my mom tried to hook me up with since the big wedding fiasco. There is a lobbyist or two and more than one aspiring politician who would make a great piranha fill-in on a nature special.”
“But none of them would have physically hurt you given the chance. I’m not so sure about Prescott. There’s too little information available on his sexual preferences for my comfort level.”
“Maybe he’s just discreet.”
“Or his preferences make discretion to the point of cover-up a necessity.”
“I’m not about to get involved that way with him.”
“Stay out of situations where you might end up alone with him.”
“We’ve had this discussion.” Each day when she got off work, in fact.
Ethan sighed. “My gut is telling me the man is dangerous to certain types of women. The fact that he specifically advertised for the quiet type raises a red flag for me.”
“I’ve thought about that, too,” she admitted.
“Good instincts.” He smiled at her, their eyes connecting for a millisecond before his went back to the road.
Warmth pervaded her whole being at his praise. “Thanks, but although I can be shy, I’m not weak.”
“I know that, baby. But I don’t think Prescott is as astute a judge of character. I’d hate for you to have to do him bodily harm because he’s cocky. It could put a real crimp in our case.”
She grinned, liking his assessment of the situation and agreeing. She’d never tolerate being manhandled, but if she got into a situation where she had to draw the line, Prescott wouldn’t bat an eyelash at firing her. She was sure of it.
“Tomorrow night would be a good night to plant bugs,” she ventured.
Ethan had refused to let her do it because he said if the bugs were discovered, they could be traced back to her since she was the only new person in the household. But after a party with several business associates, probably all of whom were as dirty as Prescott, they would fall under suspicion before her if the bugs were discovered.
“Yes, it would. The long-range listening devices don’t work.”
“He’s jamming them like we are?”
“Only he makes no effort to mask his jamming device. It’s as if he’s so arrogant he doesn’t care who knows he’s taken measures to keep his conversations private. He doesn’t think anyone can touch him.”
“He’s wrong.”
“Yes, he is.”
Chapter 16
The small party of business associates turned out to be ten business associates to Prescott, many of differing nationalities, and their dates. Prescott had a woman at his side, too, but she had the hard stare of a professional bodyguard rather than a lover. Maybe she was both, but the way she kept distance from Prescott and yet maintained a position between him and the other guests said not.
She moved with the sinuous grace of an expert in martial arts, but Ethan would lay odds she was packing as well. She did not come off as the type of woman to rely solely on her prowess at hand-to-hand combat for protection. The security guard who normally patrolled inside Prescott’s house was conspicuous by his absence from the large drawing room.
Though Ethan was sure he was in the house somewhere.
Prescott played the convivial host while Ethan played the part of possessive boyfriend and kept Beth locked to his side. The information broker was definitely giving her looks that spoke of too personal an interest in his new investment advisor. He was affable with Ethan on the surface, but made several adroit comments intended to irk Ethan Grange the author.
It was no more than he expected and Ethan enjoyed making it a point of not rising to the bait.
When it came time for dinner, he was not surprised to find himself at the other end of the table while Beth was seated to the left of her host, breaking social custom. Prescott’s “date” was seated to his right. Ethan could not hear their conversation, but he wasn’t worried about Beth’s part in it. She’d been attending political dinners every bit as dangerous in their own way since she was a child. He had complete faith in her, but that didn’t mean he had to like the way Prescott touched her arm when he spoke to her or tried to tempt her to taste his appetizer of escargot when she declined her own.
For his part, Ethan listened to the discussions going on around him while appearing to be wholly engrossed in his flirtation with the woman on his left. Celine Fournier was companion to a middle-aged Frenchman who reeked of money and wore a wedding ring. She didn’t. Not the wife. And not exactly enamored with her role as mistress either, if the amount of wine she imbibed as dinner progressed was any indication.
So far, the conversations around them were innocuous, but a man across the table made a comment about “the merchandise” to which the woman beside him said she hoped it was as impressive as Prescott had intimated it would be. Both hastily changed the subject after a cold-eyed glare from an Arab seated on the other side of the woman.
Between the salad and the main course, Ethan used the cover of dropping his napkin to place a microchip size bug under the table. For all its miniscule proportions, it had amazing range, but he still wanted to get listening devices closer to Prescott’s office and at least one upstairs.
His flirtation with Celine continued after dinner while Prescott made a point of keeping Beth by his side, ostensibly discussing her investment strategy. When Prescott took Beth on a tour of the garden, along with the ever-present bodyguard and several of his other guests, Ethan allowed the now very tipsy brunette to lead him upstairs to a deserted bedroom.
She grabbed him and tumbled back toward the bed, her hands everywhere. His hand on her neck, he leaned down, pretending he was about to kiss her. Instead, he exerted pressure on a sensitive point and she lost consciousness almost instantly. He figured he had two minutes, five at the most, before she came to again. But he’d studied the house plans and architectural detail enough that he was confident he could achieve his objective before she woke.
Yanking on a spandex black ski mask and wafer-thin night goggles he had tucked in the inside pocket of his black blazer as he went, he climbed out the window onto the roof. He sprinted on catlike feet to the window for the master bedroom. It would have been quicker to use the interior hallway, but any movement within the house would be monitored by cameras. Those on the outside were unlikely to pick up Ethan’s movements—even if they were directed at the roof as opposed to the grounds.
He’d dressed all in black for the evening in clothes that fit his literary author persona and made darn good camouflage in the dark. Black turtleneck, blazer, slacks, and what looked like designer men’s dress shoes, but had soft soles for stealth.
He affixed the listening device in a mere second and ran back to the guest room, slipping in through the window with silent speed. He closed it as the sound of people coming up the stairs reached him. He had just stripped off the ski mask, tucking it and the goggles back into his jacket, and sat down on the bed beside Celine, when she woozily opened her eyes. She reached for him as the lights were tur
ned on and a man’s curse and woman’s soft gasp could be heard from the doorway.
Ethan looked up and Beth was staring at him like he was a cockroach. She was with Celine’s date; the Frenchman looked ready to kill.
Ethan smiled easily, used to this sort of “cover your ass” maneuvers in the field, but something inside him stuttered at the look of disgust in Beth’s eyes before she masked it. “I was just helping Ms. Fournier. She was feeling faint and I carried her in here. I’m glad you’ve arrived to take over, Monsieur Bernard.”
Ethan patted Celine’s hand and stood up, careful not to adjust his clothing, or in any way make it appear they’d been doing exactly what Celine had intended for them to be doing.
She, obviously knowing a good cover-up when it presented itself, put her hand to her forehead and sighed dramatically. “It is true. Henri…you were too busy in your business discussions to notice my distress, but this gentleman cared for me.”
Skin pale from the enforced blackout and her slightly slurred consonants from too much wine gave her performance realism, but her benefactor still looked suspicious. “The light was off when we arrived.”
“It hurt my eyes.” She shut them, allowing a single tear to escape and turned her head away. “Not that I expect you to notice, or care. Tonight was to be entertainment you said, but you have done nothing but talk business in whispers. You have ignored me.”
The woman wasn’t a bad actress; she played the part of neglected date very well.
Bernard looked at Ethan, as if asking for confirmation.
Ethan stifled a sigh of disgust. “Now that you are here, I will leave you to care for your date’s discomfort.”
Bernard nodded and rushed to Celine’s side. Taking her into his arms, he whispered words of abject apology in French, all the while looking like a man who had to be wondering if having a young mistress was worth the trouble. Considering the fact that Celine made a good stab at being both a lush and unfaithful, Ethan would have said no.