True Deceptions (True Lies)

by Veronica Forand

  He continued typing. “I know everything about you. You received your PhD from the University of Southern California, placed third in your age group in a triathlon in Los Angeles, and have had no friends since arriving in London three years ago.”

  “And yet I know nothing about you.” Ten minutes in one of his computers might provide her with enough details to satisfy her curiosity, but he guarded them as though she were a plant from an enemy organization.

  “You know everything a girlfriend of mine would know, except my favorite position in bed.” He spun his chair around to face her and raised his eyebrows. “Curious?”

  Yes, very curious, but men like Simon unnerved her. She tended toward computer geeks who liked to watch old black and white films while drinking organic lemonade.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Perhaps bothering him wasn’t such a great idea after all.

  “As you wish. Do you mind if I return to work now?” Without waiting for an answer, he faced the screen.

  She turned to go, but a faint echo of her mother’s voice caused her to stop.

  Fight for what you want. Being the nicest kid in the room isn’t enough.

  Years of struggling through the tech world, justifying her ability over and over and over again, should have toughened her. Years of watching younger men with less experience and expertise take positions she’d applied for, just because they went to the same college or were in the same fraternity as the company president, should have pushed her to step up and demand what she deserved. Instead she’d always slipped into a background role and never made waves.

  No more.

  Her life would not be defined by a man’s inability to see her worth beyond her blonde hair. Simon’s attitude toward her needed to change. He had to see her as a contributing member of the team. Headquarters couldn’t have pulled her out of her office to sit in a colorless apartment and do nothing. Did her education and training mean anything? Was she really hired to be arm candy to a man who didn’t show any respect toward her?

  She blocked his monitor with her hand to grab his attention. “There must be something I can do.”

  He moved so fast, she didn’t have time to react. His hand manacled hers, and he pulled her in front of him, down to his level. She almost fell forward onto his lap. When his movements stilled, he stared at her like a cobra lulling its prey. His thumb caressed her palm and calmed the fright caused by his action.

  His mouth hovered over hers. She could smell alcohol and something else, which she couldn’t describe, but craved. He remained completely still except for his breathing. Garnering all the self-control she could, she held her breath to avoid his tempting scent.

  “Have you ever brokered an arms deal with rebels in Sierra Leone?” He spoke as though he were propositioning her with things unrelated to weapons caches.

  She inhaled deeply, having held her breath a second too long. “No.”

  “Then you’re not needed at this time.” He released her hand and repositioned her away from the front of the screen.

  Her nerves flew around in a vortex of emotional, sexual, and intellectual frustration, distracting her until she forgot everything she’d ever learned about confidence and strategic alliances. Dating surfer dudes and computer geeks hadn’t prepared her for Simon Dunn. Not even her arrogant thesis advisor intimidated her the way Simon did. And yet she felt drawn to him like a moth to a blowtorch.

  She returned to the living room and flopped on the couch, wishing she could leave. Anywhere on the planet would be preferable to being in the same apartment as Mr. Simon Dunn. But if she walked out the door and out of Simon’s life, she’d lose her job and possibly her chance at moving to another position either in the U.K. or the U.S. She was stuck. She had limited funds, a small suitcase of clothes, and a 9mm handgun she refused to use.

  The doorbell saved her sanity. She leaped off the couch to answer it. Before she reached the front entrance, though, Simon, gun in hand, grasped her shoulder to halt her.

  “Overkill?” She pointed to the weapon.

  “Always. That’s why I’m not dead.” He motioned her to stay back as he checked the monitor hidden in the hall closet. “Okay. You can open it.”

  Now she was his butler? She almost refused, but the person on the other side of the door rang the buzzer with impatient or desperate frequency. Simon didn’t budge. He remained by the closet with his gun by his hip and waited for Cassie to do his bidding.

  When she finally cracked the door open, a black-haired woman in a flirty yellow dress strutted through. Her posture revealed more confidence than a supermodel on a catwalk. Even with heels, however, the woman was tiny compared to Cassie in bare feet. Her facial features were dark, sensual, and exotic. Her beauty was so universal that she could blend into a crowd in a thousand marketplaces across the world. Not Cassie. She’d always stood taller than most men, and her hair hung like a neon banner announcing her presence. Blending in was not her specialty.

  “Cassie, I love your new place.” The woman kissed her below each cheek as though they knew each other from way back.

  It was like Cassie had stepped into in a parallel universe where her life was a game in progress, but she didn’t know the players or the rules.

  The second the door closed, the woman dropped her friendly act. Turning away from Cassie, she strolled straight into Simon’s arms, lifted up onto her toes—making her even taller than the three inch stilettos allowed—and pulled his head toward her until they were kissing hello. One hell of a nice hello. Okay, to be fair, she was on the giving end and he was receiving, but he wasn’t exactly rejecting her advances.

  “Simon,” she purred, “I haven’t seen you in so long. We need to catch up.”

  He grinned, and Cassie’s stomach tied up in knots. He was gorgeous wearing a scowl, but when smiling he was seductive and sweet and sexy, all rolled into a body a woman would love to own. Apparently the woman in the yellow dress owned at least a piece of him.

  “Aren’t you a beacon of sunlight in an otherwise drab afternoon.” His hand draped over her shoulder. “I’d like to introduce Cassie Watson. Cassie, this is Pauline Hall, the best handler in the business.”

  “Nice to meet you, Cassie.” Pauline dropped her hand to Simon’s rear end, and her eyes remained focused on his face.

  “Handler?” Cassie stared at the back of Pauline’s head.

  Simon looked over at Cassie and then glanced at the woman, his smile a bit more restrained.

  “I’m here to help you prepare for your trip.” Pauline stepped further into his arms. Their bodies seemed comfortable in that position, as though they’d been together a hundred times.

  “My trip?”

  “Our trip,” Simon corrected.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Pauline laughed. “She really hasn’t a clue what she’s doing, does she?”

  Cassie could tolerate a lot of things, but she hated when people equated her looks and hair color with a low IQ. “She is standing right next to you and doesn’t have a clue because no one has bothered to give her one. If you’d like to discuss mobile manipulation platforms in personal robotics applications, I’d be more than able to hold an intelligent conversation.”

  Simon raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  Pauline, however, smirked. “That’s a bit over my head. If you don’t mind, I need to… discuss a few things of a more pedestrian nature with Simon.” She pulled him in the direction of his bedroom, not the office. “We’ll be back in a little while.”

  They disappeared behind the bedroom door.

  Cassie stood alone for a few minutes, feeling like the annoying little sister. Yet, she wasn’t a little sister, she was a professional woman who had more education than the two individuals making out in the room next to her. Her temper, which had barely simmered during the past thirty years, now boiled over.

  Chapter Four

  As soon as the door locked Cassie out, Pauline began her pursuit. She
wrapped her arms and one flexible leg around Simon. A hand dropped between his legs, sending his neurons firing. Damn, she was sexy. But today wasn’t the day to reignite their old flame—a remnant of his wild days before Nicola and her professional ethics.

  Nicola had never tolerated Simon’s workplace trysts while she was his partner. According to her rules, he couldn’t have her or anyone else at the service. Although his heart had craved her over anyone else, he made do with local beauties who didn’t care if he never called them again. Despite his chronic blue balls at work, Simon and Nicola’s relationship functioned perfectly. They’d made more deals and stopped more arms shipments from reaching their targets than any other team from the U.K., U.S., France, or Germany. Nicola had been one of the most competent women he’d ever known. Yet she still ended up burned.

  He kissed the top of Pauline’s head as he unwound her from his body. “As much as I’d love to throw you on the bed and explore how many ways I can send you over the edge, I need to focus for a few hours, and I’m hesitant to anger my new partner during our ‘get to know each other’ period.”

  Pauline shifted away from him to the cheap mirror above his dresser. She arranged her hair, touched up her makeup, and then sat in an armchair by the window. Her beauty and sophistication transformed the barren bedroom into the luxurious boudoir of an imperial palace. Today, however, Simon wasn’t in the mood to play with the exotic princess, and he sensed she’d be having his head for his rejection. Her fingers tapped on her leg, and her exhalation sounded like hissing.

  Simon remained standing. He wanted a break from women but was being inundated with them. One very tall blonde tempted him to hell and back with her looks alone, and the other, a gorgeous brunette, would be willing to break the law, crush a few moral codes, and be excommunicated from a few religions all for an afternoon tryst.

  Her face had fallen into a frown. Pursed lips never looked good on anyone, especially annoyed women. “I thought you’d be more willing, since Nicola’s gone.”

  The comment ripped at his gut. He moved past the end of the bed, as far from Pauline as possible. “I’m already knee deep in shit with the service, and compromising one of their best handlers won’t endear me to headquarters.”

  She stood. That spitfire confidence returned with his compliment. She followed him across the room. “Remember your first year in the field? I handled all your needs, and you had no complaints.”

  “As much I enjoyed our close ties, I’m older and wiser. Go on with your task.”

  Just one hand touched his arm, tempting and seductive. “You should take advantage of the personal service required since Anonymous attacked our network and headquarters wants the most secure data hand delivered. It makes the job much more interesting.”

  “Pauline.” His tone came out as a warning. “Spill it.”

  “Fine.” She backed away and sat on the bed, leaning across the pillows in a provocative pose. “Cassie, as you know, is absolutely green when it comes to anything outside her little cubicle on the seventh floor. She hasn’t had a boyfriend since moving to London. She’s one of those workaholic types. Anyway, she needs a bit of softening around the edges. Your job is to make sure she looks like your lover and not some skittish little mouse.”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the video, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not sure if little or skittish is the best way to describe her. Unpredictable, yes.”

  Cassie had tensed while Pauline snogged him near the front door. Was his partner jealous of Pauline on a professional or a physical level? Interesting. Either could work in his favor. If she did feel some attraction toward him, perhaps he could manipulate her into breaking her non-violent stance in order to do their job. Otherwise, she’d be like an appendix about to burst. Useless and deadly.

  Too bad he couldn’t switch out Pauline for Cassie. The woman could probably kill without guilt, plus lie, cheat, and steal as well as he could. She didn’t, however, have the skill set necessary for his purposes.

  “Simon, you have your work cut out for you. She needs to be more sophisticated when it comes to all aspects of her assignment.”

  “As of this minute, you haven’t told me what I’m supposed to do except seduce a surfer girl. Not an incredibly challenging assignment. What’s next?”

  “You have to reestablish yourself. People think you’re dead or in hiding. It’s time to make an appearance. Tucker mentioned a deal brewing to arm rebels in Sierra Leone. Do you think you can get in on it?”

  She crossed her legs, allowing the hem of her yellow dress to lift to the top of her thigh. Her Cheshire cat smile told him she was still on the prowl. Annoyance replaced attraction. Only Nicola had ever made Simon lose focus on his job. Pauline was wasting her time trying to break him down. He wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes.

  “Already arranged. As for Cassie, tell Tucker I’ll obtain the results he wants using my own methods. Next.”

  She leaned back on the bed, posed like a centerfold about to get naked. “Some businessmen in North Korea are looking to arm a few soldiers with suicide drones near the DMZ.”

  Drones in the Korean Demilitarized Zone? Cassie’s role clicked into place. Plenty for a robotics expert to do there.

  “How do I make contact?”

  “They’ll be at SOFEX Jordan in two weeks.”

  “I’d better get busy then.” He’d skipped the Special Operations Forces Exhibition & Conference the year before, but every major player in the world of legal and illegal arms deals would be there. He needed to return and get back in the game.

  He glanced at his phone for a peek at his new partner. Between Pauline’s failed seduction and Cassie’s lack of composure, the wrong women surrounded him. At least he could send Pauline away. Cassie, on the other hand, he was stuck with until this was done. The woman exhibited zero patience—the most important quality to have in this job. The inadequate training new agents received made them overconfident and a risk to themselves and others. He’d seen eight colleagues perish in the first six months of their assignments due to rookie mistakes. And, unlike Cassie, they’d never hesitated to fire a gun.

  Cassie tiptoed to the bedroom door and listened. She heard nothing. Grabbing a glass from the kitchen, she tried to listen through the door and then the wall. Not a sound. The door had a heavy rubber seal on it. In fact, every door in the flat was sealed. So much for eavesdropping.

  They’d been planted in the bedroom for forty-five minutes. If they were having sex, they would have finished by now. Maybe. Although by the looks of Simon, he could probably carry on all night.

  Pacing for several minutes did not calm her nerves. The more she thought about her unknown role, Pauline’s open acceptance into Simon’s world, and their mutual love fest going on behind a closed door, the more Cassie’s frustration bubbled to the surface.

  She wanted professional respect. Was that too much to ask? To be included in the plans and to understand her role in whatever they’d be doing and where ever they’d be going. Tension mounted in her gut, spread into her throat, and expanded to create an intense throbbing behind her eyes. She’d been sweet and nice and respectful, and they’d both ignored her. What if she demanded answers?

  Her knock on the door to ask how long they would be went unanswered. They could, at least, acknowledge her existence. She knocked again and called for Simon. Nothing. This was ridiculous. She spoke in a loud voice and received no response. How could they not hear her?

  Despite her actions, the lovebirds remained locked in his bedroom. She supposed the walls were indeed soundproof. If someone punched in the front door to kill her, Simon would never know.

  She picked up the blanket from the couch and sat in the recliner. Her outburst would accomplish nothing—only distract her from the mission. Whatever that was. She hated being angry and frustrated. After several deep-breathing exercises, her stress decreased, and she nodded off.

  Sometime after the sun fell below the horizon, Simon
and Pauline emerged, fully clothed. Pauline’s makeup was intact, and her dress appeared wrinkle-free. Still, Cassie didn’t want to acknowledge them. The exclusion hurt too much.

  She needed to get a grip. She didn’t have the experience to make demands.

  Simon immediately went to the office and closed himself in.

  Pauline, smiling like a woman who’d spent hours in the arms of a hot, sexy man, waved to Cassie with all the sincerity of a cheerleader toward the school computer geek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You will?”

  “We’re going shopping. It’ll be fantastic, you’ll see. When I’m done with you, you’ll feel like a million pounds. Don’t worry, Simon’s paying.”

  Wearing clothes picked out by Simon’s lover would not be fantastic. “What time should I expect you?”

  “Nine o’clock sharp. Don’t stay up all night with Simon.”

  Cassie smiled, trying to act more confident and saucy than she felt. “I’ll try, but he’s insatiable.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Pauline laughed, but for some reason it came across as artificial.

  When Cassie finally shut the door on Pauline’s back, she headed for the office. Before she reached it, the door opened and he stepped out. He was no longer smiling. With his tight black T-shirt, fitted jeans, and sullen expression, he looked like a bouncer ready to remove a troublemaker. She caught her breath and almost turned to flee.

  His rigid gaze, however, froze her in place. “I don’t care who placed you on this job, if you can’t control yourself or respect my need for privacy, then you need to be replaced. Immediately.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He held up his phone and played a video—with accompanying sound—of her sneaking around the flat and putting her ear to the door.

  “You could see me?” She appeared incredibly foolish on the video. Why couldn’t she have taken a walk or made dinner?

  “I told you before, nothing happens in my world that I don’t know about. And if I ever catch you trying to listen to a conversation you do not have the authorization to hear, I will pull you from this assignment faster than you can throw yourself on the floor and cry.”