Читать книгу Secret Agent Boyfriend - Addison Fox - Страница 11
ОглавлениеLandry felt the rigid boundaries of her self-control slipping as Derek’s arms wrapped tight around her. Long, luscious moments spun out, one more glorious than the next, as his mouth plundered hers, his hand drifting over her spine until it settled low on her back.
She leaned into the kiss—and the hard man who held her as though she was something precious—and let herself go in the moment.
The long months of fear and worry faded away in the press of a hard male body against hers. The featherlight aromas of citrus and alfalfa mixed with the more potent scents of sweat and leather, all imprinting themselves on her senses.
Life.
It was the one word that kept running through her mind as she leaned into Derek, as taken with the kiss as he was.
This was life.
Raw and needy. Necessary, even.
She vaguely registered Pete’s lead in her palm before using her other hand to settle low on Derek’s hip. Thick muscles bunched under her fingertips, proof the body she’d sensed lay under his clothes was as taut and well honed as it appeared.
A smile worked its way to her lips, vanishing the moment he reached out with his teeth, drawing the sensitive skin into his mouth. Hot need swirled through her, settling itself low in her stomach, tightening the muscles a few inches below.
The hand at his hips fisted in the material of his T-shirt, and she was about to drag a handful over his stomach to get to the warm skin beneath when his strong hand snapped to her shoulder.
His movements were firm—final—as the moment jolted to a harsh stop and the sensual exploration vanished as if it had never been.
Their connection lost, Landry could only stare up into the dark orbs of his eyes. She didn’t miss how his pupils had gone wide with need and arousal, despite the bright sun that shone down on them both.
“That was—” He broke off.
At the increasing evidence of his embarrassment, she took a step back, desperate to get away from the heat that branded her as it shimmered off his body. With long years of practice, she swirled the anger that rose up inside her like a protective shield, cloaking herself from hurt.
“What’s the matter, Ace? Cat got your tongue?”
His mouth snapped closed, whatever he was about to say vanishing at her careless tone.
She should have kept quiet. Landry knew she’d regret it later, even as the words spilled forth, but a sad recklessness gripped her with iron claws. With a soft pat on his shoulders, she shot him one of her trademark carefree smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s obvious we can put on a good show for anyone watching. Our fake relationship should be a breeze.”
Without waiting for a response, she tightened Pete’s lead in her hand and headed for the stables.
* * *
His first year in the Secret Service, Derek and his team had faced a bomb threat at a hotel while on protection detail. Despite working their way through a series of practiced maneuvers as they moved the vice president to safety, he’d never forgotten the sheer rush of adrenaline and the absolute lack of knowledge of what the next several minutes would bring.
Annihilation or safety.
The question had hovered through his mind as they escorted the VP down several long corridors toward her waiting car, a phalanx of men surrounding her in unified timing.
They’d had one goal, one mission.
And they’d executed that mission with flawless grace, their only concern the woman in their protection.
Images of that day still remained, emblazoned on his memories with detailed precision. He’d understood his job before then. He’d known what he’d signed up for and what it meant to lay down his life for another. But until that day, with Kate Adair wrapped in a tight cocoon of protection, he hadn’t understood what that vow truly meant.
While Derek knew a kiss in a meadow on a bright spring morning couldn’t—and shouldn’t—qualify as equally dangerous, he’d be damned if the same thought didn’t keep spinning through his mind as he crossed the sweeping property of Adair Acres.
Annihilation or safety.
Although the vice president was no longer his responsibility, her niece was, and Derek recognized the trust Kate had placed in him. Which meant he had no business dragging said responsibility in for a mind-blowing kiss in broad daylight, all while his body screamed with the unfulfilled need to do so much more.
He slipped in the back door of the house, Landry’s parting words echoing in his ears.
Our fake relationship should be a breeze.
Yeah. Right.
The sound of voices rose up from the direction of the dining room, Landry’s huskier tones mixed with the deeper baritone of her brother. Although Derek sensed the conversation was private from the muted undertones, he was in the middle of whatever was happening here, whether Landry liked it or not. With a resigned sigh, he headed for the entry to the long room, prepared to join in the melee.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Carson.” Her direct words spilled into the hallway. “I said I’d go along with it and I am.”
“By stomping around here like the spoiled princess of the manor?”
“Oh come now, big brother. I’m simply living up to expectations. You know that as well as I do.”
Derek let out a short, discreet cough to announce his presence, and both turned as he walked into the room. Carson and Landry stood close, their similarities as siblings more than evident in their fair coloring.
But it was the matched battle stances that truly marked them as siblings, warriors down to their core.
Whatever he might have been, Reginald Adair had a reputation for being ruthless in going after what he wanted. Stubborn to a fault, he didn’t take no for an answer, nor did he back down. It was a trait his children had apparently inherited in spades.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Would it matter if I said yes?” The quick words snapped at him with the force of a striking cobra. Despite their earlier kiss and his subsequent fumbling, he couldn’t quite shake the smile at the fierce expression that only served to heighten the sensuality of those bee-stung lips.
Derek shrugged. “Probably not.”
Her bright blue eyes narrowed and Derek saw the light of battle as clearly as if she’d hollered “Charge!”
“Well, then. Since you’re not leaving, perhaps you can explain to my brother why you felt the need to introduce yourself to Noah this morning, despite our explicit agreement that we’d manage this little deception together.”
“I thought we already worked that out.”
“Do I look like we worked it out?”
You look like a woman who’s been loved.
The thought gripped him so tightly he was amazed the words didn’t actually leak from his lips. Color still rode high on Landry’s cheeks, and the faint mark of his morning stubble edged her gorgeous lips in stubborn lines of pink like a brand.
His brand.
“Why don’t I get going and leave you two to figure this out?” Carson edged away from his sister, his gaze wary.
“Some ally you are. You’re a traitor to the cause.”
“Yep.” Carson smiled for the first time since Derek had entered the room, then added a wink for good measure. “See you later.”
Landry’s moue of disgust did nothing to hide the sultry sweep of her lips, and she turned on a very fine heel to refill her coffee mug.
“I didn’t talk to Noah on my own to go against your wishes. I thought I made that clear earlier.”
“You did.”
Something faint drifted across the gorgeous blue of her eyes. If he hadn’t been searching her face so hard, he’d likely have missed it. “You think I was wrong for taking the opportunity?”
“No.”
“Then why the attitude?”
Her gaze drifted around the opulent room before she settled her focus back on him. “Noah’s my cousin. My family. And he has no idea what we all suspect.”
Landry’s words stopped him and the momentary amusement he’d felt at her battle stance faded. He knew what it was to ruin someone’s life with the truth. Knew even better what it was to have that truth thrust upon you without warning.
Despite that knowledge—or perhaps in spite of it—he pressed his point. “Noah can’t know. Not yet.”
“Why not? If we ask him, he might be able to assuage our fears. Might be able to give us answers to our questions.”
Derek understood her deep desire to keep the truth at bay. Like a hovering specter that turned warm memories cold and settled fear deep in the bone, their suspicions would change the course of Noah Scott’s life if they were proven true.
“Or we’ll possibly create more questions. What if he tips his mother off before we have a chance to properly investigate and make our case?”
The mention of Noah’s mother, Emmaline, did the trick. Landry’s open, almost pleading gaze faded, replaced with stoic resolve. “You think she’s guilty?”
“I think we need to evaluate on our own before making suppositions or rushing to judgment.”
Her long, slender fingers fisted at her sides. “And you haven’t?”
“An investigation based on facts isn’t judgment. It’s what I do. What I know how to do. If you can’t accept that, then maybe my initial thought to work this alone was a better idea.”
“Threats, Derek?”
A retort rose up but he held it back, the urge to defend himself fading in memory of the clear hurt in her eyes when she leaped off her horse to confront him earlier.
She had been hurt. While he wouldn’t have done anything differently, even if given the chance, he wasn’t immune to the disappointment he’d seen in the set of her slim shoulders.
Landry Adair was used to being let down. He wasn’t sure how he knew that with such bone-deep certainty, but he did. And he’d be damned if he wanted to be yet another person who did the same.
“I don’t make threats. And I’m not apologizing again. But now that I’ve met Noah on my own terms, I have no interest in continuing to work this on my own.”
“Oh.” The admission was enough to knock the wind from her arguments, and Landry shot him a stoic gaze over her shoulder before picking up a delicate pot of creamer on the sideboard. The dollop she dropped in her cup barely colored the black coffee, and an image of a woman in fierce control of herself struck him with swift fists.
No muffin the day before over breakfast. A spot of cream that was so small as to be invisible. And a fierce battle of wills over her family that she was obviously desperate to win.
Perhaps he’d misjudged the woman who appeared to have everything.
From his vantage point, he was beginning to wonder if she had nothing.
* * *
Landry dropped her purse in the backseat of her SUV before she reached for the driver’s door. Derek had kept a low profile through the rest of the morning, simply asking her to be ready to take off at lunchtime.
She’d wanted to ask where they were going, but sheer stubborn pride had kept her mouth closed. As a result, she had no idea if the light sweater set and cream-colored slacks were appropriate for their outing or not.
Especially when Derek Winchester sauntered out of the house in another one of his T-shirts—black this time—and low-slung jeans. That same heavy throb from their morning in the alfalfa pasture gripped her stomach and she fought it back, slipping her dark sunglasses quickly over her eyes.
She wouldn’t let him see the irrepressible response of her body, which no doubt filled her gaze with ripe appreciation.
And she’d be damned if she worried she was overdressed for whatever outing the infuriating man had planned that he couldn’t bother to share with her.
Partners.
The word stuck bitterly in her throat as she climbed into the car.
They were no more partners than her parents had been. Those two loveless souls who’d drifted over Adair Acres, perfectly content to lead vastly separate lives. Reginald and Patsy had known how to turn on the charm and lay it on thick when the social situation warranted it, but the rest of the time they seemed equally happy to ignore each other.
Functional. Cold. And devoid of any sense of passion or need or that bone-deep craving that bonded lovers together.
Was she destined for the same?
Images of her morning kiss with Derek flooded her mind’s eye, the thought so vivid she could once again taste him on her tongue. Masculine, with a hint of something smoky like whiskey, tinged with dark coffee overtones. She fought the shiver that gripped her and tightened her hands on the wheel.
Derek climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door, oblivious to her discomfort. Damn man.
The walls of the spacious SUV grew tight as his scent surrounded her once more. She’d accepted the feeling of confinement the day before because her sports car was so small, hence the decision to take her boat of an SUV for today’s little errand.
So how did he manage to eat up all the space anyway?
Ignoring the zing that lit up her nerve endings, she turned toward him and kept her gaze somewhere around his ear. “Where to?”
“Los Angeles. To my office.”
“We’re going to the FBI?”
“I want to look into a few things, and it gets us out of the house for a while.” He kept his gaze steady on hers and she fought the urge to look away, reminding herself he couldn’t see through the dark black lenses of her sunglasses.
“Can’t you access your files remotely?”
“I can do it faster and quicker at headquarters. Besides—” He broke off and she caught the sense of something lying just beneath his words.
“Besides what?”
“I want to check in, that’s all. I’ve been out of pocket for a few days and it makes me itchy.”
Landry hit the button for the ignition, the high-end model she drove already registering the key in her purse, and shifted into reverse. Despite herself, she was intrigued. By their outing and by whatever else he wanted to accomplish in LA. “What are you looking for?”
“Birth records, for starters. I want to know when and where Noah was born.”
The reminder that their hunt centered on digging into Noah’s background took some of the wind out of her sails, and Landry couldn’t help but eye the large gate that swung closed behind her car after she pulled out of Adair Acres. Two large As sat at the top of the fence, their swirling script as familiar a sight to her as her own signature.
So why did they suddenly appear so menacing? Like a brand, marking the property and all the secrets that hid in its folds?
She shook off the fanciful notion and kept her eyes on the road. The rolling countryside flew by her windows as she traveled the canyon roads she’d grown up on.
“It’s beautiful country.”
Derek’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, echoing what she already knew to be true about the land she called home. “It is. It’s so vibrant and lush, and no other place smells quite as sweet.”
“You truly love your home.”
Heat crept up her neck at his observation. She did love her home and always had. It was a large part of why she’d never ventured all that far, even if it meant living with the stifling expectations of her family.
She’d thought about New York as a teenager, and later fantasized about a flat in London or Paris. She’d even spent a winter on the French Riviera during a college break. But no matter how blue the water, the Côte d’Azur simply had nothing on her little corner of Southern California.
Several thoughts drifted through her mind as she imagined how she wanted to play Derek’s question, but in the end she simply settled for the truth. “I do.”
“It’s good to belong somewhere.” She risked a glance at his profile as she took the entrance to the freeway, surprised to see a forlorn expression that turned his masculine features craggy.
But when he turned and caught her gaze, she knew without question there was more beneath his words. “It’s good to have roots, Landry.”
“What about wings?”
“Sometimes flying’s overrated.”
His cryptic words smacked of sadness and loss. And as they sank in, the wholly unexpected need to nurture stuck in her chest, tightening her muscles like drawstrings.
She had no right to nurture.
Or question.
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 he’d ever known? And the comfort of an identity he’d lived with since he was an infant.
On a resigned sigh, she admitted to herself that wishing the truth away—or worse, attempting to hide it—wasn’t the answer, either. “You need to add Ruby to your next search string.”
“Your father’s first wife?”
“Yes. Ruby Townsend Mason.”
“Her daughter, Georgia, is Carson’s fiancée, right?”
“Georgia’s her stepdaughter, but they might as well be related by blood. The two of them are incredibly close.”
Again, the pressure of the past few months weighed on her as she thought about the woman who’d come into her brother’s life, brightening his entire world and helping to ease the pain of wartime that had scarred him, both physically and emotionally. Georgia was an incredible person, and she’d been raised with an abundance of love and caring. Ruby Mason might not be her biological mother, but she was Georgia’s mother in all the ways that mattered.
It was humbling to contrast the relationship to the one she shared with her own mother. As they always did, thoughts of Patsy Adair managed to make her feel sad and stifled, all at the same time.
“I’ll include Ruby’s information next.” Derek’s voice broke into her thoughts as he set up another query while the first was running in the background. “It’s interesting that it was Georgia who made the connection about Noah.”
“She saw an old picture of Ruby’s father and was shocked by how much the man resembled Noah.”
“Connections.” He muttered the word as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Strong. Efficient. Competent.
An entirely unexpected flutter settled beneath her skin and Landry tried to shake off the strange well of attraction. Seriously? When did a man sitting at a computer terminal become sexy?
When he wore a black T-shirt and low-slung jeans like Derek Winchester, that’s when.
Ignoring the sexual buzz—especially in light of the fact that Derek seemed to be oblivious to one, his gaze focused on the computer screen—Landry’s thoughts returned to Georgia. She knew the suspicions about Noah had been weighing heavily on Georgia’s mind.
Was Noah really Jackson?
And could it even be possible he’d been a part of their family this entire time?
Georgia hadn’t wanted to get Ruby’s hopes up, so instead of reveling in the celebration of her engagement to Carson, the woman was busy keeping secrets from her stepmother.
Landry fought back a small sigh at the realization that yet another layer of deception and mystery permeated her life and the lives of those she loved.
It was further proof that the grounds of Adair Acres held as many old secrets as new ones.
