Marriage of Revenge. Sheri WhiteFeather

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      But what Julia and Miriam didn’t know was that the loan sharks had hired a hit man to find them.

      And kill them, Aaron thought.

      “You’re right,” he said, forcing himself to think about something other than Talia, to allow the missing women to take precedence in his mind. “We should get to work.”

      Talia studied her ex-lover, grateful that he’d quit looking at her with a deep-seated hunger in his eyes. She needed to stay focused on her job, not fall prey to the past.

      Of course Julia’s past was relevant. Talia was anxious to make a break in her case, to do whatever she could to help the FBI locate Julia and Miriam before the unidentified assassin did. “Thunder suggested that we devise an undercover operation.”

      “He told me that, too.”

      “Are you okay with it?”

      He shrugged. “You and I have always worked well together.”

      She wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. His comment about firing her had been ludicrous. She and Aaron were cut from the same career-minded cloth. “We’ll have to let the FBI know what we come up with. They’re the primary law enforcement investigators in this case, and we agreed to share information with them.”

      “We should concentrate on the personality profiles the feds created on Julia and Miriam.” He indicated the file on his desk. “That should help us with the operation.”

      Talia picked up the folder, but she didn’t need to open it. The report had arrived yesterday, and by now she and Aaron had memorized it. “According to this,” she said, fingering the manila edge, “Miriam probably convinced Julia to hide out in Nevada so she could sneak off and gamble.”

      “Yes, but it also states that Julia would probably be wise to her mother’s tricks.” He took the file from her. “Why don’t we start with Gamblers Anonymous and see if Julia talked her mother into attending any meetings.”

      Talia sat forward in her chair. “I’ll get a list of GA locations in Nevada.”

      “I think we should focus on the open meetings, the ones family and friends can attend. I doubt Julia would trust Miriam to go alone. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and come across Miriam and Julia at a meeting. Or the hit man,” he added.

      “So this is it,” she said. “This is our cover. We can poke around without causing any suspicion. Of course there is a privacy policy.”

      “To protect the members? We’re not going to expose anyone’s secrets. Besides, you know how people love to talk. Privacy policy or not, someone will open up about Julia and Miriam if they’ve been there.”

      “Especially if the other participants trust us. One of us can pose as a gambler, and the other can be a family member.”

      “How about spouses?” he asked, snaring her gaze.

      “Spouses?” she parroted.

      “We can take on the role of a married couple.”

      Talia forced herself to breathe. “That’s not funny, Aaron.”

      The hunger in his eyes returned. “Do I look as though I’m kidding?”

      No, she thought. He looked as though he was capable of seducing her, of making her fall in love with him all over again.

      “I don’t want to be your wife. Not anymore,” she added, memories floating too close to the surface. In spite of his ultimatum claim, there was a time when marrying him had been her agenda, the very thing she’d wanted most.

      “That’s exactly why this cover will work. Our marriage can be in trouble.” The hunger got deeper, darker, much more intense. “We can use the chemistry between us. The heat. The anger.”

      He was right. Their cover would ring true. No one, not even the hit man—if they happened to cross his path—would believe otherwise. “Then you should be the gambler. The one who screwed up our marriage.”

      “Sure. Why not? I’m good at that.” Cynicism sharpened his voice. “Just ask Jeannie. She’ll tell you what a lousy husband I was.”

      “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” At this point, she was doing her damnedest to protect herself. Talia had grown up with a house full of men, with a blue-collar father and three testosterone-pumped brothers. She was used to fighting for her rights. But battling her way out of love was a whole other ball game. “I’d rather not think about what kind of husband you were.”

      “You better get used to my lousy disposition if you’re going to be my undercover wife.” He dragged his hand through his hair, pulling a loose strand off his forehead. Aaron had sexy hair, dark and straight and unyieldingly thick.

      She frowned at him. Everything about him was sexy, right down to the slashing cheekbones that boasted his heritage. Aaron was from two nations: White Mountain Apache and the Pechanga Band of Luiseño Indians.

      He frowned at her, too. “Speaking of marriage…has Thunder mentioned his upcoming wedding to you?”

      “Yes, but it’s still in the planning stages.” Her mind drifted back to Aaron’s wedding and the woman with whom he’d exchanged vows.

      Aaron continued to scowl. “I think Thunder is going to ask me to be his best man.”

      Talia steadied her voice. “I’m not surprised. I think Carrie is going to ask me to be her maid of honor.”

      “That means we’ll be paired up at the ceremony.”

      She squared her shoulders. “I can handle it.”

      “Can you, Tai?”

      She wanted to kick him. He used to call her Tai when they were in bed, when they were kissing and touching and making each other deliriously crazy. “Of course I can.”

      “What about Danny’s party?”

      “What about it?”

      “Can you handle that, too?” He reached into the top drawer of his desk and handed her an invitation with a cartoon character on it, announcing his son’s fifth birthday, with directions to his ex-wife’s house. “Or are you going to refuse to go?”

      Although Talia didn’t respond, she wondered if Aaron’s family would be there, if he was giving her the opportunity to meet them.

      She knew it shouldn’t matter after all this time.

      But it did. Somehow it did.

      The following morning, Talia stood at the chopping block counter in her kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Except for her shoes, the high heels she favored, she was already dressed for the office.

      The doorbell sounded and she took the hot drink with her, expecting to see her mail carrier or someone equally nonintrusive.

      But she was wrong.

      She СКАЧАТЬ