Читать книгу Covert Kisses - Jane Godman - Страница 9

Chapter 1

Take his breath away.

That was her one and only aim for this first encounter, and Laurie Carter had three things working in her favor as she kept the target in her sights.

First, there was the understated designer swimsuit that molded itself to her curves, while also cleverly drawing attention to the length of her legs.

Then there was the fact that she was wading ashore onto his private lakeside property. As he sprang to his feet from the rock where he had been sitting gazing out across the water, no doubt he was about to point that fact out to her. Laurie did a rapid check, reconciling this man’s physical attributes with the photographs she had carefully memorized. Dark, wavy hair, swept back from a broad brow and worn slightly long so that it curled onto his neck. Deep-set eyes above high, Slavic cheekbones. A hawk-like nose and lips that were contrastingly full. She had the right man. There was no mistaking him. Tall and powerfully built, he moved toward her with the grace of an athlete, a frown line pulling his dark eyebrows together.

Judging the distance between them to perfection, Laurie waited until he was close enough. As she fell into a pretend faint, she saw shock and something more register in the hazel depths of Cameron Delaney’s eyes. Advantage number three was always going to be the one that clinched it. As his reflexes kicked in and he scooped her up into his arms, Laurie let her head flop back, allowing him a clear view of her face.

His exhalation was an audible hiss. Mission accomplished. The fact that she was trespassing on his land had been the thing that made him notice her. The swimsuit had drawn his attention to her curves and kept him looking. Neither of those things had succeeded in driving the breath from his lungs. That had been achieved for one reason only...because she was the mirror image of his dead girlfriend.

* * *

Pure adrenaline fired through Cameron Delaney’s nerve endings as he gazed down at the head resting against his arm. It’s not her. His head insisted on repeating that mantra, even as his heart tried to tell him a different story. Her eyes were closed, so he was free to drink in the features he thought he’d never see again.

Subtle differences began to imprint themselves into his brain. Her weight in his arms felt different. She was an inch or two taller, a few pounds lighter than Carla. Her hair was a tumbling mass. Even though this woman’s was wet, he could tell it was the same dark chestnut as Carla’s—although Carla’s had been longer and artfully streaked with lighter highlights. Carla’s skin tone had been a touch closer to gold than the pale porcelain he was studying so carefully now. This smattering of freckles would have been a cause for outrage if it had dared to spoil the perfection of Carla’s dainty nose and smooth cheeks. A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement as he imagined Carla’s horror at the prospect. My God, am I finally able to remember her with something other than guilt and sadness?

The thought was chased away as the girl in his arms stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, thick eyelashes lifting to reveal eyes that were a brilliant cornflower blue, a shade lighter than Carla’s. She fixed him with a slightly unfocused stare, then, apparently becoming aware of several things at once—she was in the arms of a complete stranger, her own state of undress and his naked torso in contact with her body—her eyes opened wide.

“Oh, goodness!” Her voice was husky, deeper than he’d expected, her accent hard to place, but definitely not local. “I’m so sorry. I don’t make a habit of trespassing on private land and flopping into the arms of men I don’t know. You can put me down now.”

“Are you sure you can stand?” It seemed incredible, impossible to be talking to someone who looked so much like Carla, yet wasn’t Carla. To not be asking her the dozens of questions that were chasing around inside his head.

“No, but I’ll try...if you don’t mind lending me your arm.” She smiled as she spoke. In that single instant, the subtle physical differences ceased to matter. That smile was pure Carla. It was like an electric shock to his heart and a karate kick in his solar plexus at the same time.

Carefully, Cameron lowered her to the ground. “Who are you?”

As far as he knew, Carla had no family. Could two people who were not blood relatives bear such a striking physical resemblance to each other? The living proof that they could seemed to be standing right next to him.

She clung onto his arm, testing her ability to remain upright. Apparently satisfied with the result, she let go and held out her hand. “Laurie Carter. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Delaney.”

Cameron raised his eyebrows as he shook the proffered hand. “You know who I am?”

She smiled again. He might have to ask her to stop doing that. It was playing havoc with his heart rate. “Surely everyone in Stillwater knows who you are?”

“But you’re not from around here.” He could make that statement with absolute certainty. Stillwater, Wyoming, was a closely knit community. He and Carla had been together for almost three years. During that time, someone would have mentioned the fact that the mayor’s partner had a double living in the county.

“I was born here in Stillwater, but my dad died when I was three, so my mom went back home to her folks’ place in California. That’s where I was raised. I’m here on vacation...curious to see where I started life.” Laurie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Cameron silently cursed his own clumsiness. Were the biographical questions necessary when she’d sustained a severe shock? “Let’s go up to the house and you can warm up.”

“Oh, hey—” she glanced up at the striking wood and glass structure, just visible through the pine trees bordering the lake, her teeth chattering slightly “—I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Ignoring her protests, he smiled down at her. “It’s an election year. Rescuing tourists who get into difficulties is good for my public image.” Turning away for a second, he stooped to pick up the lightweight sweater he’d discarded when he came down to the beach. “Put this on.”

“It’ll get wet...” Her protests faded at the determined look on his face. Taking the sweater from him, she slipped it on, tugging it down over her swimsuit. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t anyone warn you how difficult it is to swim across the lake?” He gestured for her to precede him up the steps that were hewn into the rock face. The sight of those long, slim legs beneath his sweater did something to his insides. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced for a long time.

Laurie glanced back at him, a hint of mischief in her smile. “Actually, they did.”

“But you didn’t listen?”

One slender shoulder hunched in a hauntingly familiar gesture. “I’m a good swimmer. I’m also very stubborn. If someone tells me I can’t do something, it becomes the one thing I have to do.”

Cameron’s heart clenched. Hard. It could be Carla talking. How many times had he cursed her obstinacy? She’d made him so mad that last night with her refusal to listen to reason...

He realized Laurie was still speaking and forced himself to tune back in to what she was saying. “If I’d known I’d get a cramp and end up trespassing on your private land, I would have listened to the warnings.”

He returned her smile. It was impossible not to. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

* * *

So far, so good. The house was amazing. All glass and natural wood, it perched above the rock face, jutting out over the lake so every room seemed to be suspended above the water.

“It’s amazing.” Laurie stood at the full-length glass wall in the kitchen while Cameron made coffee. She had used the towel he gave her to get the worst of the lake water out of her hair. When it dried, she would look like a wild woman, but that couldn’t be helped. She was here, inside Cameron Delaney’s house. She’d take successful over well groomed any day. “Who designed it?”

He paused, and she wondered if he was about to tell her the truth. She already knew the answer to her question, of course. Carla Bryan had been one of several architects to submit plans for this beach house. The youngest and most inexperienced, she’d won the contract and Cameron’s heart at the same time. It had all been in the file. The one Laurie had spent the last few weeks painstakingly memorizing.

“The ideas were mine. It just needed a professional to bring them to life. Cream and sugar?”

They took their drinks through to a large family room with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a wraparound deck overlooking the lake. Furnished in colors reminiscent of the pine forest outside, the room managed to be elegant and comfortable at the same time. Tucking her legs under her, Laurie curled into one corner of a big, comfortable sofa.

“Are you warm enough now?”

She nodded. His sweater had done the trick. And it smelled delicious. Some sort of expensive cologne lingered in its folds. A woodsy, musky, peppery evocative scent that suited him perfectly. Because, my God, he was a stunning-looking man. Get a grip, Laurie. You knew that before you came here. It had all been in that file. No matter how hard she had tried to keep things businesslike during her research, her eyes had developed a tendency to linger a little too long over his photograph. Much in the way his gaze kept straying to her face right now. That was hardly surprising. As far as he was concerned, she was a dead woman come to life.

“You said you’re here on vacation. What job do you do?”

Keep it as close to the truth as possible. That was so important in this line of work. Like her name. If she strayed into an elaborate charade, it became too easy to slip up and get it wrong. “I’m an artist.” The freelance work she did in her spare time was a hobby rather than a career, but it had always worked well as a cover story.

His raised brows told her she’d hit a nerve. Architect. Artist. She supposed it was close enough to hurt. “Will I have seen your work?”

“Probably not. I illustrate children’s books.”

“You must be good to make a living from it.” Was this the interrogation? So soon?

Before she could respond, footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and a voice called out, “Cam? That consignment from Pinedale...”

The man who entered the room had to be related to Cameron. The family resemblance was too strong for it to be otherwise. Mentally, Laurie reviewed the contents of the file. There was an older half brother, Vincente, and a younger brother, Bryce. Both men worked for Delaney Transportation. Assessing this man’s age in comparison with Cameron and recalling the family photographs, Laurie figured she was looking at Bryce Delaney. Her memory for detail kicked in. Twenty-eight years old. Two years younger than Cameron. An injury in Afghanistan had brought an abrupt end to a promising army career.

Whoever he was, the man stopped speaking, breaking off in midsentence when he saw Laurie, his jaw dropping in an almost comical expression of surprise. His gaze swiveled from her to Cameron and back again.

“C-Carla?”

Cameron’s eyes seemed to flash a warning message. “Bryce, this is Laurie Carter. Laurie, meet my reprobate brother.”

She smiled at Bryce, who was still gazing at her in shock. “Nice to meet you. But I can’t help thinking you mistook me for someone else.”

He ran a hand through his hair in a helpless gesture. “You look just like someone we used to know.” He cast a glance in Cameron’s direction and encountered a frown like thunder. “Sorry, but you must admit it’s uncanny. You know what? I’ve just remembered something I need to do. The Pinedale stuff can keep. Nice to meet you, Laurie.”

When he’d gone, Laurie turned to Cameron. “What was that all about?”

Knowing that, if she played her part successfully, he’d have to confront the Carla issue sooner or later—probably sooner—she’d rehearsed this conversation. It was a strange job. One that relied on her ability to play a part 24/7, while those around her had no idea of their roles. Improvisation and fast thinking, those skills were the key to survival.

Cameron rose to his feet and went to the desk that stood in a corner of the room. It looked out over the lake, and Laurie thought what a wonderful place it would be to work. Or maybe not. Maybe that view would distract from doing anything productive. Opening one of the drawers, Cameron withdrew a framed photograph. He brought it over to Laurie and, sitting next to her on the sofa, held it out.

This is it. How you react now is everything. Aware of Cameron’s eyes on her face, she took the photograph and scanned it. Although she had seen Carla Bryan’s picture many times, the resemblance still took her by surprise. She has my face. We could have been twins instead of cousins. She didn’t have to fake the widening of her eyes or the sharp intake of her breath.

“Who is this?” She raised her gaze to his face.

“Her name is Carla. She is—was—the love of my life.”

“Was?” Suddenly, Laurie wasn’t playing a part. All she was doing was reacting to the raw grief in those incredible dark eyes.

“Carla died a year ago.”

“Oh, my Lord. I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, she reached out a hand and placed it on his knee. “How did she die?”

Cameron covered her hand with his. A warm tingle of electricity spiraled from the point of his touch through to her every nerve ending. Careful, Laurie. You know feelings are not allowed in this line of work.

“I killed her.”

* * *

The lower reaches of the Stillwater Trail were popular with tourists. Higher up was for serious hikers and hunters. Starting out at the river’s edge, it wound inland and upward until it reached the highest point in the county, the treacherous climb known as Devil’s Peak. Aware she would be gone for much of the day, Laurie set out early, throwing a few snacks into her backpack before she left the rented cabin that sat just at the edge of the pine forest.

Although her mother had lived in this state for only a few years, her short married life had been happy and she’d had fond memories of her time in Wyoming. Laurie’s childhood had been filled with stories of the beauty of Stillwater. Laurie herself had always planned to visit one day. How strange it should have happened this way. She locked the cabin door. Not that there was anything inside that would give her away. She was too professional to compromise her personal safety.

If anything, her mother’s enthusiastic praise had understated the wild perfection of this place. The air filling her lungs was crisp, clean and plentiful. Which was just as well, because the scenery really did steal your breath from you. Tucked away on the northernmost edge of the state, bordering Yellowstone National Park, West County was still largely undiscovered by tourists. It shared the grandeur and wildlife of its well-known neighbor without attracting the same sort of fame.

The trail started out deceptively flat, and Laurie had time to admire the emerald green of the gigantic trees rising on either side of her, the azure blue of the sky together with the sound of the sparkling stream tumbling alongside the path. After a few hours, she was breathing hard as the gradient increased and, by the time she reached the mountain-encircled body of water known as Wilderness Lake, she was glad of the chance to shrug off her backpack, sit on a rock and take a long slug of water.

She had been there for about ten minutes, drinking in the rugged drama of the granite landscape, when another walker came into view. Although the man wore shorts and hiking boots, he looked as though he would be more comfortable in a business suit. As he got closer, Laurie noticed the sheen of sweat on his face and bit back a smile. Special Agent Moreton had been her partner in a lengthy undercover operation and she knew him well. Even so, if she hadn’t seen him in the outdoors with her own eyes she’d have continued in her belief that he was allergic to fresh air.

Moreton carried a map, and as he approached Laurie, he held it out to her, pointing to a spot on it. Anyone observing them would assume he was one hiker asking another a question about the trail. “Were you followed?”

“I don’t think so.” She bent her head over the map. “That doesn’t mean we’re not being watched through binoculars right now, of course.”

He followed her lead, covering his mouth with one hand as he spoke. “Lipreading? You think Delaney could be suspicious of you already?”

Laurie shrugged. “If he’s who we think he is, he’ll take good care to protect himself.”

“How did he react when he saw you?”

She shot him a sideways glance. “How do you think?”

“Did he mention Carla?”

She nodded, making a pretense of turning the map and looking up at the surrounding mountains. Anything to buy a little time. When she bowed her head again, her voice was quiet. “He said he killed her.”

“That’s what he told police at the time. It was the grief talking. What he meant, of course, was that he failed to stop her from taking her boat out that night.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Moreton looked startled. “You don’t mean...? No, he was at a state function in full view of hundreds of people when she died. Mayor Delaney was the keynote speaker.”

“If Cameron Delaney is all the things you tell me he is, would he think twice about getting someone else to kill his girlfriend?”

His round face became even more serious. “If you want out, you only have to say the word.”

“You know me better than that, Moreton. When you approached me with this job, I knew what it involved. I’ll see it through. I guess if I’m having dinner with a guy I’d like to know in advance if there’s a chance he might have killed his last girlfriend.”

“Dinner? Tonight?” When she nodded, he whistled. “He’s a fast worker, our guy. How will you deal with it if he wants to...” He cleared his throat. “...You know?”

“You mean if he wants to have sex with me?” She almost laughed aloud at his pained expression. “I’ve done this sort of thing before, remember?”

“I seem to recall you have a few creative ways of keeping them at arm’s length. So, now you’ve met him, what are your initial thoughts on Delaney?”

Laurie hesitated. First impressions were important, and she knew Moreton was asking her because he trusted her instincts. For the first time ever, she wasn’t sure he was right to do so.

“You know I had my doubts about this job. Using a man’s grief to get under his skin? That has never felt right to me. It was only when you showed me the file about what was going on here—what Delaney Transportation is potentially a cover for—that you convinced me. The evidence against him is about as watertight as it gets.” She spread her hands, palms upward. To an observer, she could have been indicating she was clueless about the route. “Initial thoughts? The file you compiled told me he’s one of the wealthiest men in the state. Each of the three Delaney brothers inherited a modest amount of money from their father. Cameron used his to set up the business, growing it into a thriving corporation within a few years. He’s also a successful businessman and politician. Mayor of Stillwater. The voters love him. He’d get my vote and I don’t even know what he stands for. The guy’s got charisma. Underneath it all he’s hurting like hell. Even when I rocked his world yesterday, the facade stayed in place. I’d say he’s going to be a tough one to crack.”

“If anyone can do it, you can. Delaney is one of the smoothest operators we’ve come across. On the surface, he’s squeaky clean. He’s never had a parking ticket, or filed a late tax return. We have to throw him off balance. The psychologists tell me Delaney will be drawn to someone who looks so much like Carla. He was devoted to her. You’ll shake him out of his usual composure. When he’s with you he may just slip up, make a mistake, however small, and allow you to get close enough to glimpse the illegal side of the business. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we have right now. I want to close this bastard down, but so far every attempt we’ve made to get someone undercover inside the firm itself has failed. This operation has been going on for a long time, but it’s only recently we’ve had the evidence to pinpoint Delaney Transportation.”

“Possibly he’s started to slip up. There’s no doubt that Carla’s death devastated him.”

Was Moreton frowning because he sensed sympathy in her voice? Even imagining he could detect a moment’s hesitation? “Every time that bothers you, think about the drugs and firearms that are pumped onto the streets every day. And we both know that’s not the worst part of this operation. Human trafficking. Forced prostitution. A nasty, but very lucrative, business. Many of the girls we’re talking about are as young as thirteen. Some are younger. If ever you find yourself feeling sorry for Delaney, think of them.”

Laurie felt a flash of anger light her eyes as she raised them to his face. “Are you questioning my commitment?”

“Never.” Still in his role as the hapless hiker, Moreton folded his map and turned, shrugging as he pointed back at the trail. “Anything you need from me?” Laurie shook her head. “Next time, maybe we can find somewhere civilized like a coffee shop?”

After he’d gone, Laurie sat a while longer, allowing the peace of her surroundings to soothe her. In six years of working undercover, she had never let her emotions get to her. For a moment back then, she had come perilously close. Why was it so hard to be objective about Cameron Delaney? From the outset, she’d allowed emotion to creep in. It must be the Carla factor. It was hard not to feel a connection to the other woman when she had recently discovered their relationship. The cousin she never knew she had. And Carla had died tragically. Just when she had everything to live for. Sighing, Laurie rose and tugged her backpack into place. She’d have to work a bit harder to fight the feelings in the future. There was a job to be done. Starting with dinner tonight.