Secret Agent Boyfriend. Addison Fox

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      Or insert her opinions in whatever had put that haunted look behind his dark, solemn gaze.

      They weren’t in a relationship. And despite the strange tug of attraction that had been her constant companion since he stood above the pool staring down at her the day before, she didn’t know Derek Winchester.

       But you do know the feel of his lips and the caress of his hands.

      She tamped down the traitorous thought as her car flew down the road, the heavy traffic of the city building with each passing mile. No matter how enticing those few moments in his arms, they were the consequence of a power play, nothing more.

      A battle of wills between two stubborn people, testing the other to see how far each could push.

      They absolutely were not the quiet moments of a couple in the throes of early attraction, barreling down that steep slide into love.

      * * *

      “At the risk of exposing my deep and abiding love for gritty detective shows, TV really doesn’t do it justice.” Landry looked around the spacious entrance to the FBI office in LA, doing her level best to fight the mix of awe and excitement.

      Derek glanced up from where he signed her in as his guest, a lopsided grin turning up one corner of his mouth. “What were you expecting? Lennie Briscoe sitting at a desk at the corner?”

      His reference to Jerry Orbach’s character on Law & Order warmed her, adding a surprising sense of fun to their hunt for information on Noah. “Maybe.”

      “What else did you imagine?”

      “I don’t know.” She shrugged before getting into the game. “I guess I thought I might see a crime lord someone nabbed at lunch.”

      “Naturally. Because crime lords are a dime a dozen.”

      “Exactly.”

      “I’m afraid to disappoint, but it looks like we’ve missed today’s crime lord sighting. But I happen to have something even more exciting.”

      Derek gestured her toward the elevator off the main entryway.

      “More exciting than a parasite who preys on the fine citizens of Los Angeles being brought to justice?”

      “Better. I’ve got paperwork. Reams and reams of paperwork.”

      “A dream come true.”

      The forlorn passenger who’d ridden in her car had vanished, replaced with a man fully in his element. Derek had tossed a black sport jacket over his T-shirt, and the pressed material only emphasized the width of his shoulders. Which she really wouldn’t have noticed—at all—if he hadn’t stopped and turned toward her the moment they paused at the elevators, a broad grin on his face.

      “I’m sure it is.”

      They stepped through the sliding doors, his gaze growing speculative. “So detective shows, huh? I’d have pegged you as a reality junkie.”

      Landry fought a hard snort and simply batted her eyelashes. “You’re lucky we’re in a place crawling with law enforcement professionals. I’m tempted to hurt you for a comment like that.”

      “Note to self.” Derek mimed flipping open a detective’s notebook and jotting down a few lines. “No mention of singers, ladies who lunch or pregnant teenagers.”

      “Thank you.”

      “No. Thank you.” He gestured her toward a large room marked Archives. “I can keep my knowledge of a certain wealthy, home-based executive’s wife with extracurricular activities to myself, guilt free.”

      “The FBI follows them?”

      “The FBI follows a lot of people.”

      Landry maintained a light, breezy air, even as his words struck a discordant note.

      The FBI did follow a lot of people. And her aunt had thought her current family situation was bad enough to warrant that sort of scrutiny. She knew Aunt Kate was acting in what she believed was the Adair family’s best interests, but Landry also knew there was more to it.

      An outsider—and a highly trained one at that—could see things others would miss, and Kate was canny enough to recognize that distinct benefit.

      If she were smart—if they were all smart—they’d do well to remember that simple fact.

      Derek laid a hand on her arm, the warmth penetrating the thin sleeve of her sweater. “You all right? You disappeared there for a minute.”

      “Don’t be silly. I’m right here.”

      His dark gaze sought hers and held it for a moment before he gestured toward the archive room. “After you, then.”

      The subfloor hallway was as ruthlessly clean as the lobby, the scents of industrial cleaner and old paper mixing in the thick air. She knew it was silly, but Landry could swear she felt the weight of history pressing in on them as they entered the archive room.

      Anxious to will away the oppressive feeling, she sought for humor to diffuse the moment. “You take all your fake girlfriends down here?”

      “That all depends.”

      “On what?”

      “If an old FBI subbasement seems sexy or creepy.”

      She couldn’t hold back the light giggle at his words, but before she could answer him, he pulled her farther into the room. “Come on. There’s a workstation down here that’s not used very much. It’ll give us a chance to sit and hunt around for a while.”

      In moments Derek had them logged into a computer terminal, the screen awaiting his search query inputs. He’d shed the jacket for comfort, and her gaze was once again drawn to the powerful body beneath the thin veneer of black cotton. Corded muscles roped his forearms, tapering down to firm, capable hands.

      Hands that had held her, caressed her and pulled her against his warm frame.

      “Noah’s thirty-seven?”

      The question pulled her from her musings before she nodded, her voice tight when she finally spoke. “Yes.”

      If Derek heard the distress he ignored it, instead typing in Noah’s name, year of birth and parentage into the query field. Even with all their efforts to lighten the mood, Landry couldn’t quite vanquish the well of sadness as she watched him type her cousin’s name into the search bar.

      While their failed kiss had been more the cause of her cool attitude back at the house, she hadn’t lied about Noah. The thought of what they were doing—and the consequences for her cousin—was tough to swallow.

      Two months before, her father had been ripped from her life, the cruel hand of death dealt by another. If she and Derek discovered proof that Noah was the missing Adair heir, wouldn’t they be doing the same in reverse?

      Ripping him from the only life СКАЧАТЬ