Secret Agent Boyfriend
“You speak from experience?”
“My work revolves around missing-persons cases. There aren’t nearly as many happy endings as there should be. Or beginnings, for that matter.”
The urge to remain distant was strong, but something long dead inside her sparked back to life. “It sounds like a taxing profession.”
“At times. But it’s also one I’m good at. Your aunt was a part of that.” She shifted into another lane, the sign for their exit coming up, and he continued on. “I was on her protection detail, but she saw something in me. She knew I had ambitions beyond security, and when a job opened on the FBI’s missing-persons team she gave me a glowing recommendation.”
“You must have impressed her. Kate Adair doesn’t do ‘glowing’ lightly.”
“She’s a special woman.”
Landry risked a glance at him as she slowed for her exit ramp. His face was set in hard lines as he stared straight ahead, his gaze set on something only he could see. Once more, the realization that something hovered just under the surface tugged at her.
The hotel came up on her right, and she pulled into the valet station. Two valets rushed to open their doors, the man on her left all smiles as he gave her his hand. “Welcome back, Miss Adair.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
Landry didn’t miss Derek’s widened eyes over the top of the car or the assessing gaze that accompanied his perusal. Annoyance speared through her at the speculation she saw there—and the surprise that she’d know the name of a hotel employee.
Whatever he thought—or whatever she believed she’d seen—vanished under a facade that was all business as he rounded the front of the car. With swift movements, he took her hand. “Come on, darling.”
Heat traveled up her arm, zinging from her fingers to her wrist to her elbow before beelining straight for her belly. She kept her expression bright and her smile wide, even as she clamped down on her back teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His grip tightened, his smile equally fierce as another set of employees opened the hotel’s double front doors. “Why, escorting you, of course.”
“I hardly think this is necessary.”
“Of course it’s necessary. People see what they want to see, and we’ve got something for them to talk about. You’re showing off your new love, whom you can’t bear to be parted from.”
While she’d later admit to herself she had no excuse, in that moment she could no more stop herself than she could have voluntarily stopped breathing. The combative imp that liked to plant itself on her shoulder—the one that regularly whispered she needed to push against convention and what was expected of her—couldn’t resist putting her earlier impressions into words.
“So it’s all about distraction, then.”
The rich scent of lilies filled the air around them, dripping from the six-foot vases that filled the lobby of the hotel, a vivid counterpoint to the foul stench of her father’s murder that had seemingly clung to her—to all of them—for the past two months.
“Distraction?” Derek’s eyebrows rose over the almost-black depths of his eyes.
“Of course. It helps hide the secrets. Like a sleight of hand, it focuses attention elsewhere.”
“Are you suggesting you’re hiding a secret?”
“No. But I think you are.”
Landry had to give him credit, he held it together, his poker face firmly intact. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she wouldn’t have even noticed that slight tightening of his jaw that gave him away.
“Everybody’s got a few, you know. But in this case, I’d say your secrets are more present. Recent, even,” she said.
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“Oh, no?” Landry waited a beat or two—her father had taught her the effectiveness of the approach—and watched as his attention caught, then held on her. “Then what is a big, bad FBI agent doing here on babysitting duty?”
Chapter 2
Secrets.
The word whispered over and over through Derek’s mind, filling up every nook and crevice until he barely knew who he was anymore.
Hell yes, he had secrets. And an endless series of questions that always culminated in the biggest query of all. When had it all gone so wrong?
Six months ago he was a man with a plan. A career he loved. A fiancée he was planning on spending the rest of his life with. And a series of cases that gave him purpose each and every day.
And now he was a glorified babysitter, living with the memories of a child who was still missing, a perp wounded by Derek’s own hand and a leave of absence while the FBI investigated it all.
Did he have secrets? Bile choked his throat at the raw truth of that question.
He had a boatload of secrets, and every damn one of them was eating him alive.
“Stay with me, Ace.” Landry’s sultry voice whispered in his ear moments before her hand came to rest on his forearm. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere.”
She cocked her head, the motion almost comical if it weren’t for the well of compassion she couldn’t fully hide beneath her gentle blue gaze. “You keep telling yourself that.”
She turned away before he could respond, and then there was no need when the governor stood before them, his crisp black suit as perfect as his smile.
“Governor Nichols. So lovely to see you again. I so enjoyed catching up at Congresswoman Meyers’s home last November.”
“As did I, Landry.”
Landry made quick introductions and Derek sensed the question that hovered in the air among all three of them.
Who was this man with one of California’s favorite daughters?
Was he good enough?
Would he ever be?
“Derek’s a friend of my aunt Kate. She’s raved about him for years and simply insisted we had to meet.”
The governor’s handshake was firm and his eye contact direct as he nodded through Landry’s introduction. “Kate always gets what she wants.”
Landry’s arm wrapped around Derek’s the moment he was done shaking hands and she squeezed. Hard. “Don’t I know it.”
Derek took that as his cue, smiling at Landry before turning toward Nichols. “And clearly I’m the lucky beneficiary. A beautiful, dynamic woman on my arm and the endorsement of another dynamic beauty.”
“And what do you do, Mr. Winchester?” Nichols’s smile was broad, but Derek didn’t miss the continued curiosity underneath the polite veneer.
“A little of this, a little of that.”
“Derek’s got the especially lucky opportunity to travel where his whims take him. Give of his time where he sees fit. And support the causes that are near and dear to him.”
Landry’s quick description of a wealthy, aimless playboy had the governor’s eyes dulling, and Derek chafed at the description.
Sure, he was here on an op, nothing more. But it still stung.
He worked damn hard, for every single thing in his life. None of it had come easy, nor had it come without a price. Long hours. Endless days spent briefing and debriefing, planning and then executing to a precise schedule.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries—and Landry’s confirmation of when the organization could expect a check from the governor’s office as promised. Only when Nichols walked away did Derek feel Landry relax by his side, her grip loosening, even though she didn’t fully pull away.
“Nice job, Slick. Even if you were gritting your teeth through my flowery description of your globe-trotting adventures.”
“I have a name, you know.”
She dropped his arm, but the husky register of her voice made him feel as if they still touched. Intimately.
“Yes, but then how can I objectify you in my mind? If I use your name, I’ll be forced to see you as a person.”
He marveled at her words and their distillation of something career abusers inherently understood. Objectify the victim. See them as something separate. Apart. If you don’t humanize them, then there’s no guilt over your choices—as with Rena and her captor.
“That’s awfully deep. And here I thought you had a business degree.”
“With a minor in psychology.” She patted his arm before reaching for the slim purse she’d laid on their table.
“I’d say you understand more than a few courses’ worth.”
Those husky notes gave way to a lighter, airier tone. “Ah, yes. The glorious education one receives as an Adair. We can’t forget that.”
Derek followed her back the way they came, down a long corridor and then through the main lobby. “Sounds lonely.”
“At times. Until you hit a point when you don’t care any longer.” The breezy socialite was back as she handed her valet ticket to the attendant.
Derek marveled at her quick and ready costume changes—the cool, refined temptress from the pool to the excited ingenue on their drive over to the responsible socialite with the governor.
Each one was undoubtedly a facet of her personality, but which one was dominant? Which one was the real Landry Adair?
And when had he begun to crave the answer?
* * *
Landry offered up a small “come in” at the knock on her bedroom door. She shoved the Roosevelt biography under her covers and opened the tabloid just as her brother Carson walked in.
She glanced up from a spread on upcoming summer movies and closed the issue, tossing it beside the bed before Carson could see she had it upside down. “Hey there, big brother.”
“Hey, yourself.”
Carson limped into the room, the bullet wound that had ended his career in the Marines a permanent presence in his life. Thankfully, so was his new fiancée, Georgia.
She’d worried for him when he first came home, ghosts dwelling in the blue eyes that were a match for her own. But in the past month he’d turned the corner. Their father’s death weighed heavily on all of them, but the fact that he’d found something strong and true with Georgia Mason had changed him.
And when you added how they found each other, Carson’s journey back to full emotional health was especially amazing.
“I heard you were out and about today.”
“When am I not?” She shifted on her bed, making room for Carson’s well-muscled form. He might move a bit more slowly than in the past, but he was far from soft. In fact, in some ways, his new physical limitations had only pushed him harder to keep his body in top condition.
“Let me rephrase my point. I heard you were out and about today with Derek Winchester.”
“Ah. You mean the babysitter.”
Landry let the words dangle there, curious to see Carson’s reaction. “The man’s damn good at what he does.”
“It still doesn’t mean I need to be watched over.”
“Come on. We discussed this and you said you were okay with it.”
They had. And she was.
Until a long, lean warrior arrived at the edge of her pool at eight o’clock this morning. The man messed up her routine and her order. He made her curious. About him. About what had brought him to their door. About what it might be like to kiss him.
And to ignore the fact that their relationship was a fake and pretend for a few glorious moments it was 100 percent real.
Shrugging it off, she tossed a jaunty smile toward her brother. “A girl has a right to change her mind.”
“Then if it’s that easy, change it back.”
“Why have we let an outsider in?”
“So he can see the things we can’t. We’re too close to it all. We’ve got absolutely zero perspective, and that makes us vulnerable.”
“I’m not too close to anything.”
“Oh, no?” Carson stretched out and folded his hands behind his head like a pillow. “You can honestly sit here and tell me you aren’t shocked as hell that we might have a brother somewhere?”
“No.” Yes. She averted her eyes rather than admit the truth to Carson with his all-knowing gaze.
“And you’re equally not shocked that someone shot and killed our father in cold blood.”
“Oh, come on, that’s below the belt, Cars.”
“No. It’s honest.” Carson shifted, rolling onto his side. “You know as well as I do this is not only a shock, but it’s happening from the inside.”
Much as she wanted to argue, Landry knew he was right. The events of the past few months had sent an earthquake through their family. While much of it was a blur at times, she couldn’t deny her brother’s words.
Underneath it all, everything felt personal. And way, way too close.
First her father’s death, shot in his office at point-blank range. Then the discovery during the reading of his will of a kidnapped child from his first marriage. Even their mother’s race to Europe smacked of personal knowledge.
Carson’s voice dropped. “And you know we can’t discard the questions about Noah.”
Despite the large rooms and relative isolation each of them had in the various wings of the house, on some level Landry understood Carson’s need to whisper.
Their cousin, Noah, had been a part of their lives forever. He was just...there. A part of their family. A part of them. Now they all had doubts and reservations since Carson’s fiancée, Georgia, asked the one question none of them had ever known to ask.
Was it possible their cousin, Noah Scott, was really their father’s missing son, Jackson Adair?
Georgia had seen an old photo years before of her stepmother’s father. The old photo depicted a young man, handsome and full of life.
And a shocking genetic mirror of Noah.
Ruby, her stepmother, had lost her baby son, then subsequently her husband. Did they dare get her hopes up that Jackson might have been nearby all these years?
“Please tell me you understand why we need Derek?”
“Of course I do.”
“Is that a ‘Carson, I understand and will cooperate as you’ve asked’ sort of yes?”
She shoved at his shoulder, the motion doing little to move him. “Yes, it is.”
“Good. I’ve already briefed him. You can give him proper cover in the morning when he begins his investigation.”
The words were on the tip of her tongue to argue and let him know she and Derek were going into this as equal partners, investigating together, but she held back. She knew Derek hadn’t been all that pleased with her request, and she knew damn well her brother wouldn’t be, either.
So she held her tongue and smiled. “Of course I will.”
Carson lifted up on an elbow to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before rolling toward the edge of the bed. Despite his injury, he moved off the mattress and got to his feet in one swift motion.
“And Landry?”
“Yes.”
His hand snaked out before she realized its destination and dragged the thick hardcover out from where she’d hidden it. “Go easy on him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Carson dropped the hardcover on top of the blankets where it bounced with a hard thud, his grin broad and cocky as his hands went to his hips.
That smile brought back memories of their youth, roaming Adair Acres and playing through the endless groves of citrus trees. He’d often fancied himself Peter Pan, his hands perched at his waist as he issued orders for how to fight pirates or manage their skyward flight to Neverland.
There had been a time when Landry thought she’d never see that smile again. And now that it was back, she could only be grateful.
She might not like her immediate circumstances.
But she was glad to have her brother back.
* * *
Derek kept his gaze on the pool from his guest-room window, Landry’s morning swim as captivating from a distance as it had been up close and personal the day before.
He hadn’t intended to be a pervert—and as a lawman who spent his life in pursuit of those who lived up to the moniker, he knew he wasn’t—but for the life of him he couldn’t turn away from the window.
She was magnificent. Her long body was a vision, the product of discipline and obvious hard work. But it was her mind and the emotions that lurked behind her expressive blue eyes that had him even more fascinated.
He’d replayed the day before over and over, tossing into the early hours of the morning as images of Landry Adair had floated through his sleep-deprived brain.
And for the first time in months, he’d had company through the long night with a memory that didn’t end in blood.
With one final glance out the window, Derek pulled himself together and headed for the stables. He knew he’d made a promise to Landry—they’d handle the investigation as partners—but if the suspicions about her cousin were right, her presence would only hinder the investigation.
He slid his wallet in his back pocket, his fingers bereft when a badge didn’t follow, and fought the daily swell of battered pride and bruised ego.
He was a federal agent. He knew how to do his job, and he was good at it.
Damn good.
He navigated the large house, the back stairwell into the kitchen the closest to his bedroom. The scent of coffee and fresh muffins assailed him as he hit the bottom step, and he caught a shy smile from the head cook as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.”
“Derek, please, Kathleen. How are you this morning?”
The woman blushed, her obvious surprise that he’d remembered her name highlighting her already-rosy cheeks with a warm blush. “Fine. Fine. I hope you slept well.”
“Excellent.” The lie tripped off his tongue, and he felt no remorse. To tell the truth would only mar the moment.
“Can I fix you a plate?”
“I’d love to, but I actually wanted to get down to the stables for an early ride. Might I swing a to-go mug of coffee from you?”
The woman blushed once more before quickly busying herself with his request. He used the moment to watch the comings and goings in the large, bustling kitchen. Two additional cooks managed at stations along the wall while a series of maids streamed in and out in the few moments he stood there.
An overall impression of efficiency and expertise pervaded the room, and he marveled at the fact that the home ran without the obvious oversight of the lady of the manor.
Interesting.
Patsy Adair had a reputation for ruling her domain with an iron fist, and the promise of that rule must have extended even to times when she was away.
Was that same personality capable of murder? And the cold-blooded killing of her husband, no less?
While he felt obligated to review every angle, something about it didn’t play for him. Why would a woman so determined to keep her place in society risk that place over something as pointless as murder?
Especially cold-blooded, calculated murder in her husband’s office.
The power Patsy Adair wielded came from the powerful man she’d married. Killing Reginald would have been tantamount to killing the golden goose.
Kathleen bustled back with his coffee and a wrapped muffin still hot underneath its napkin.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I saw you eyeing them yesterday with Miss Landry. I try to tempt her with them every day, but that girl’s willpower is greater than my muffins. Please don’t break my heart and tell me you can refuse them, too?”
The rich scents of vanilla and blueberry wafted up from the warm muffin in his hand, and Derek shook his head. “No, ma’am. In fact, I was hoping to steal one from you, so getting it fresh out of the oven is an extra treat.”
“You enjoy.”
Derek took a moment to assess his chances with the sweet woman and decided to go for broke. “Sad things often make people lose their appetite. Landry will come around.”
Kathleen shook her head, the light vanishing from her gaze. “I hope so. There’s too much sadness here. I left after the holidays to help my sister and her family in Ireland. My niece got married and we made it a family reunion. They were happy times. Then I come back here to nothing but grief and pain.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset.” The woman dashed at her eyes. “I’m angry. Someone attacks Mr. Adair and leaves him for dead. Then they come after the family. It’s not right.”
Derek laid a gentle hand on her arm. “The family will get answers and things will be right again.”
“I hope you’re right.” She blushed once more, then pasted on another smile before she sent him on the way. Derek couldn’t help noticing the smile wasn’t quite as bright as when she’d handed over the muffin.
He maintained an easy stride past one of the property’s orange groves on his way to the stables. It was only when Derek got closer and saw the man he was looking for exercising a horse in a large paddock that the tension he’d lived with for the past six months returned to his shoulders and stiffened his spine.
If what Carson Adair suspected was true, Noah Scott had been living a lie.
And Derek knew it was his job to uncover the truth.
Chapter 3
Derek waited until Noah was at a stopping point before lifting his coffee mug in a morning salute. “Hello!”
He willed the tension from his body as man and horse swung his direction. The last thing he needed to do was alert Noah he wasn’t who he claimed to be. And if the horse got spooked by the subtle tension, Derek could kiss his cover goodbye.
Noah’s comfortable smile remained in place before he directed his mount toward the edge of the paddock. “What can I do for you?”
Derek introduced himself, before adding, “I’m a good friend of Landry’s.”
“Ah yes, the new boyfriend.” Noah’s smile was friendly and his tone that of an easygoing cowboy. “It was all the kitchen could talk about this morning when I stopped in for coffee.”
A strange sensation—like thousands of bees stinging his face—worked its way across Derek’s cheeks and then on down his neck before he ignored it, repressing any sense of embarrassment. “People like to gossip.”
“That they do. And I can tell you it’s the national pastime here at Adair Acres.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Derek reviewed his approach in his mind, working through the script he’d planned through the long hours of the night. “Landry said I could come down and ride any of the horses. Said to confirm with you who’s feeling well and up for a new rider.”
Noah’s jovial grin grew even broader. “That’s her polite way of saying I needed to pick who I want you to ride and also make sure you don’t get a crack at Pete.”
“Who’s Pete?”
“Landry’s beloved thoroughbred. Paperwork says he’s come down through Seattle Slew’s line.”
Derek heard the words, even if it took his brain a few minutes to catch up.
Landry Adair had a horse from the same line as a Triple Crown winner? And she selfishly kept him to herself and gave him an ordinary name like Pete?
Maintaining the loose-limbed personality and devil-may-care attitude of an aimless playboy, he smiled and nodded. “I guess I’ll have to work on her, then.”
“Let me know how that goes. My cousin’s not easily swayed.”
Cousin. Or half sister.
Without even knowing it, Noah gave him an entrée to discuss the real reason he was here. “You’re cousins? Landry didn’t mention it.”
“Sure are. My mom and her dad are sister and brother.”
“So you grew up together?” Derek added a smile he hoped conveyed a dreamy, besotted quality. “I bet she was a cute kid.”
“If all knees and elbows are cute, with a side of bossy territorialism, then yeah,” Noah said. “There’s a little more than ten years between us so I missed her later years. The stories are legendary of her terrorizing the grooms until they finally put her up on her father’s favorite horse.”
“Another thoroughbred?”
“Yep. Shared the same sire with Pete.”
“Damn.” Derek shook his head and tried to imagine a young girl of no more than eight or nine up on a horse designed for speed and endurance, descended from a horse who had those traits in spades. “Where the hell were her parents?”
“Around.” Noah said nothing more, and Derek knew he needed to pull back. Whatever loyalties were there were embedded deep, forged over a lifetime. He needed to go slowly.