Secret Agent Boyfriend

by Addison Fox

  “What about you? You ever get close enough to getting married?”

  “Not yet. That’s my mother’s other bone of contention with me. She hates my job and is upset she doesn’t have any grandchildren. She’s accused me of being a rolling stone.” Noah took a last long swig of his water, a hard laugh bouncing off the stable doors. “I just tell her she’s obsessed.”

  Noah snagged two more waters out of a cooler by his side and tossed Derek one. “So we’ve mucked stalls all day, groomed horses and even shared nagging mother stories. You going to finally give in and tell me what you really do? Because I find it hard to believe you’re a simple, carefree, jet-setting playboy.”

  “Will I ruin your image of me if I say no?”

  “Nah. I figured you from the first. But watching you the last few days and how much Landry digs you have only confirmed it.”

  “That was your clue?”

  “Hell, yeah. The woman’s dated far too many jet-setting playboys. They bore her to tears. And you don’t.”

  The door was open—all Derek had to do was step through it. But he liked Noah and respected the life the man had carved out for himself. He didn’t like lying to him, but years of FBI training kept him from giving up the charade before he had something concrete to prove or disprove his theory.

  “I used to work on Kate’s Secret Service detail. When news of what was going on out here reached her in North Carolina, she asked me to come here and keep an eye on things.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re here. They need looking out for. I know Carson and Whit would balk at that, but it’s true. It’s a big part of why I came here after Reginald’s murder.”

  “And now? Why do you stay?”

  “The work.” Noah’s gaze took on a faraway look. “And maybe I’m enjoying getting to know a certain socialite who does far too much work and far too little jet-setting herself.”

  Rachel.

  Landry had sensed something was going on the night before, and he’d gone along with it because in his experience women loved pairing up unattached people. But now, looking for himself...yeah, he could see that extra shot of heat fill Noah’s gaze.

  Noah crushed the empty water bottle in his hand.

  “We should probably get inside and get cleaned up, then. Go visit those socialites who’ve captured our attention.”

  “What? We’re not dressed for a party.”

  Derek slapped Noah on the back. “I’m not sure we’re dressed to set foot in the house.”

  * * *

  Landry was still struggling with Uncle Sheldon’s weird comments about dead babies, even though she’d spent the past two hours trying to convince herself otherwise. Maybe she hadn’t heard him right. And maybe there was a time-bending space portal to Paris in her backyard, too.

  The man might be senile, but he had no reason to make that up. Especially something so specific.

  No. He had a memory of something, and she needed to find out what.

  The shower was winding down, and the dining room showed the evidence that people had enjoyed themselves. She busied herself combining some of the trays of food, condensing some and emptying others for the kitchen.

  “Why are you in here cleaning up?” Emmaline bustled in, her face awash in horror. “That’s what the help’s for, dear.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to make things a little neater.”

  Emmaline shooed her hands from the table, gesturing her back toward the living room. “Nonsense. Leave those things.”

  With her irritation spiking at the end of a long afternoon, Landry nearly snapped out that she was fine, until she thought better of the reaction. “You’re right. We’ve barely had a chance to visit at all. What with Daddy dying I feel like I’ve been so wrapped up in my grief I haven’t even tried to reach out.”

  Not that her aunt had made an attempt in return, but Landry decided to push it and see where it got her.

  “Grief affects us all, darling.” Emmaline perched next to her on the sofa. “Speaking of which, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the company but how are things with your mother?”

  “None of us has heard from her.”

  Emmaline’s eyebrows rose, her lips pursing in distaste. “To think she might have killed your father, then left all of you here to fend for yourselves.”

  She knew her mother wasn’t anyone’s favorite. Heck, taking potshots at Patsy was a sport around Adair Acres, the result of long years of personal torture and abuse of all she knew and loved. But something in her aunt’s tone had Landry’s spine straightening up.

  “She didn’t kill my father.”

  Emmaline blinked, her bright blue trademark Adair eyes blank with confusion. “But she tried to kill Elizabeth. I simply assumed she was responsible for your father.”

  “That’s an awfully big leap, Aunt Emmaline.”

  “Hardly.”

  She was prevented from saying anything by Rachel’s arrival in the living room. Her best friend carried two glasses of wine, and she shoved one off on Landry with a wink before taking a plush chair opposite the couch. “We got all of Elizabeth’s amazing gifts situated in her and Whit’s wing. The room’s nearly done and all these gifts will finish the nursery off.”

  “They’ve finished the nursery already?” Emmaline teetered on the edge of the couch. The tart, gossipy woman who’d sat next to her seemed to shrink before Landry’s eyes. “Isn’t it a bit early to do that?”

  “The baby’s arrival is only a few months away. I think they want to be prepared.”

  “Yes, but it seems a bit early to finish everything. What if—” Emmaline broke off as if catching herself. “Well, you kids nowadays. You like to be so prepared.”

  “Everyone’s so excited. A baby on the way.” Rachel sighed. “I can’t believe how fast it’s happened. It’s all Noah’s been able to talk about.”

  “My son’s been talking about the baby?”

  “Oh, yes.” Rachel nodded and Landry could only sit there, amazed as her best friend worked her magic. “He’s so happy here. And he seems really excited for Whit and Elizabeth.”

  “You’d never know it when I talk to him. I’ve been after him for simply years to settle down and give me grandchildren.”

  “And if he hasn’t found the right woman yet?” Landry asked, curious as to the answer. She knew love hadn’t been a huge priority in her father’s generation, as evidenced by her parents’ marriage as well as her aunt’s. Although Emmaline’s husband had died early in their marriage, she had to wonder if it was a love match.

  “Love has its place, but so does moving on with your life. Growing up and having a family. Carrying on your family name.” Emmaline’s gaze narrowed on Rachel. “You say you’ve been spending time with Noah?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, her green eyes sparkling. “He’s been helping me with my riding technique. And we’ve picked up a few rounds of golf at my club. You know how horrible I am, Landry, and if I don’t get any better at it I just know they’re going to kick me off my position on the hospital board.”

  Landry picked up on the charade, ready to keep it going when Emmaline interjected. “Do you care for my son, Rachel?”

  “Of course. He’s a great guy.”

  “Yes. But are you interested in him?”

  “Well, I...” Rachel dropped her gaze, a small, shy smile edging her lips. “I do a bit. I mean, I would like to see it through if he were interested.”

  Noah’s deep voice carried down the hall and Emmaline was prevented from saying anything else. For her part, Landry was near ready to hand Rachel a gold statue, her performance had been so incredible.

  Noah stepped into the room, his head still damp from a shower, giving away how he spent his afternoon with Derek.

  “Did you just get back from the sta
bles?” Landry asked.

  “After putting in a full and honest day’s labor with your boyfriend.” Noah winked before crossing the room to his mother. “I’m glad you’re still here. I wanted to say hi before you headed back with Aunt Rosalyn and Uncle Sheldon.”

  “Where did they get off to?”

  “Sheldon’s terrorizing another round of dessert out of the kitchen and Rosalyn’s still upstairs oohing and aahing over the nursery. I said hi before I started down.”

  “What’s she going on about? She’s got grandchildren. You’d think she knew what a nursery looked like.”

  “Mother.” Noah took her hand in his, his voice gentle. “She’s excited for Whit and Elizabeth.”

  Noah seemed to have a calming effect on his mother, and her acerbic tone faded as they spoke. “Of course she is.”

  Landry searched her memories for images of Noah and Emmaline through the years. She had vivid memories of having Noah at the ranch, but her aunt, not so much. Although she had been much younger then, Landry recalled that her aunt had accompanied him on every trip to Adair Acres until he was of age. So why was it so hard to remember them all spending time together as a family?

  “I’m going to go up and check on Kathleen. She’s still recovering and today took a lot out of her.” Landry made her excuses and used the opportunity to escape. She shot Rachel an apologetic smile but her friend’s subtle nod assured her she could handle herself just fine.

  The walk to the servants’ wing took her through the security center, and she was surprised to find Derek in there, his head as damp as Noah’s. “What are you doing in here? With the door open, no less?”

  She closed it behind her. “What if someone finds you in here?”

  “I told Noah I was here at your aunt’s request.”

  Landry pushed herself off the door and took the seat next to him at the line of computer terminals. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because he asked. And I didn’t tell him what we suspected about his mother, but I did tell him I was here to keep an eye on you. Kate’s orders. He seemed relieved.

  “He also figured out I wasn’t a playboy globe-trotter.”

  “What was his first clue?”

  Derek pulled her chair closer and closed his hands over the arms, effectively caging her in. “He said it was because you were actually interested in me. And if I was some wastrel globe-trotter you’d have kicked me to the curb by now.”

  She was as delighted by the observation as she was surprised. Noah obviously saw more than he let on, and the idea that he understood her ennui around the majority of men she’d dated was a bit of a wake-up call.

  Perhaps she wasn’t quite as hard to read as she thought. Or hoped. “What if he’s right?”

  “Then I think maybe I should press my advantage.”

  Derek pulled the chair closer until their knees touched. He closed the remaining distance and pressed his lips to hers, the warmth and security welcome after a day full of unsettling questions.

  She sank into the kiss, open and ready for him, and marveled at how quickly she could lose herself in the amazing attraction that lived and breathed between them.

  The moments spun out, as tender and sweet as cotton candy, and Landry gave herself the permission to simply sink into the pleasure that flowed so naturally.

  A loud ping resonated from the desk, and Derek pulled back. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m waiting for some feedback from my contact at the field office. He’s been looking into the power outage for me, running a bunch of diagnostics.”

  “Go ahead. Check it. It’s important.”

  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “So are you.”

  Something warm and gooey settled itself in her chest, pushing out the ice that had settled there earlier while she observed her family.

  Derek scanned the text message, then turned toward the computer. “He sent me a file to run on the machines. Are you okay if I do that?”

  “Of course.”

  He grew quiet as he worked, his full focus on his task. Landry watched him, fascinated by the efficient way he moved through each step. Methodical and deliberate, he kept toggling back to his email as he completed each phase of the instructions.

  “Two more steps and we should be good. Then John will have a full diagnostic of the machines here.”

  She let him work, content to simply sit by his side and breathe the same air. Which was as strange as it was wonderful.

  “Can you call up your work files from here? Like the databases we looked at in LA?”

  “Sure. They run a bit slower since the files are so large, but I have remote access. Why?”

  “I’d like you to pull something up for me.”

  In moments, Derek had a familiar-looking visual coming up on screen. He shifted the image to the large viewing station above them and put in the various queries she requested.

  “My uncle made a very strange reference to a baby they thought had died.”

  Fingers still, Derek shifted his focus from the screen. “A dead baby? Have you ever heard anyone say that before?”

  “No, and that’s what’s strange. I’ve lived in my family home my entire life and never once have I heard any mention of a family member who lost a child or who almost lost a child.” Landry hesitated. “He’s also suffering from senility. It’s gotten worse over the last few years, but it was fairly obvious today he’s not all there.”

  “They say that more recent memories vanish first. If he’s referring to Noah it would have happened when he was in the prime of his life, making very solid memories.”

  “True.”

  “What else did he say?”

  Landry walked him through all the details of her conversation with Sheldon, curious to see how he used the questions to then shape the search queries he put into the system.

  “Is Rosalyn the oldest?”

  “Bucannon was actually the oldest. He’s Kate’s first husband. Then Rosalyn and Emmaline, in that order. My father was a bit of a surprise after they thought they were done having children.”

  “How many years’ difference between him and his sisters?”

  “Four or five, I think. I can nose around and find out.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll start there and then expand if we need to.”

  Derek worked through several search strings, the depth of information at his fingertips mind-boggling. “That’s a lot of information.”

  “No one really lives off the grid anymore. They might think they do—or wish they did—but they don’t.”

  “You’d think that would make your job easier. But from all you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like it.”

  “It’s a dimension that’s gotten easier. We can learn a lot more about a suspect or a victim. Get a better picture of who they are and how they’ve lived their lives. But even with the technology, if someone doesn’t want to be found, they can often find a way.”

  “Like my mother.”

  * * *

  Mark kicked the dirty pallet at his feet, the bag of bones who lay there snoring like a lumberjack. “Wake up!”

  “Wha?” Al grumbled before turning over again.

  Mark thought about kicking him again, this time against his ribs instead of against the old mattress he slept on, but held back. The guy was doing a halfway decent job of keeping the kid occupied, and he’d have a hard time doing that with broken ribs.

  Rena stared up at him from her spot against the wall. Her dark eyes bored into him with hatred that ran so deep it actually warmed his heart.

  He’d done that. Had generated a reaction so hard and so deep she’d never be free of it.

  Just like him.

  Now all he needed to do was find
a way to use it to his advantage.

  “You didn’t eat again.”

  “I don’t like slop.”

  “It’s fast food. What kid doesn’t like fast food?”

  “Me, that’s who.” Her little chin quivered, but the steady hate in her tone never wavered. “I want something fresh from the store. Fruit. Vegetables. Not fake meat.”

  Mark shrugged and pulled out the burger he’d bought for himself. She could suit herself and pretend she didn’t want to eat. He’d leave behind what he bought for her and wouldn’t be surprised if she worked her way around to it eventually.

  “What do you want with me?”

  Rena asked the same question every time he showed up to feed and water her and the dirtbag. He had to admire her persistence, even though there was no way he was risking telling her she was a pawn in a much bigger game.

  “It’s not about what I want with you. It’s about what you can do for me.”

  “I ain’t doing anything for you.”

  “Sure you are.” He wadded up the empty wrapper from his burger and tossed it at her. “Just by being here you’re doing something for me.”

  She stared at the ball of paper where it landed in her lap but didn’t make a move to toss it back.

  “Why don’t you just kill me?”

  He had to hand it to her, the kid had ice in her veins. “What fun would that be?”

  “You think this is fun?”

  “Baseball’s fun. Se—messing around’s fun. This is necessary. There’s a difference.”

  “Does that mean you’ll let me go?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Sure he had, but he wasn’t letting her know. The kid could still be useful, and he needed her thinking she still had something to lose. It was basic Victim Psychology 101.

  Tired of the chat, he got down to business. “I need you to write something for me.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Then I go over there and kick Big Al a few times until you do.”