Hitched

Hitched

A
Faerily Imperfect
Story

By Mia Watts and Katie Blu

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Ave #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Hitched
Copyright © 2011, Mia Watts and Katie Blu
Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman
Cover art by Kendra Egert, www.creationsbykendra.com
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-344-7

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic release: June 2011

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

For Amber Skyze, whose sweet manner and kind words have a magic all their own.

Chapter One

Kane Wilcox recorded the time in his notebook as Willow Harper waved and walked away from Austyn Felix, her companion. He’d been trying to get to Dr. Felix, and it looked like the best way would be through his daughter, Austyn. For that, he’d need Willow’s help. Trying to get Willow alone had been virtually impossible without giving away his identity. But the case had reached a dead end, and it was either convince Harper Security to work with the FBI, or flounder in failure.

Kane had met the owner of Harper Security, and Sage Harper wasn’t a guy to give up his sources. Kane had no doubt that if he flashed his badge, Sage would relent, but getting to the case through Willow sounded so much sweeter.

He watched the easy flirtation of her hips sashaying with each step.
A lot sweeter
. Kane glanced down at his notebook. When he looked up again, Willow was nowhere in sight. His gaze took in the perimeter of the parking lot, edged with trees and shrubs. Her car remained where it had been, nose to a slender apple tree in full blossom, Kane hadn’t noticed before.

He blinked. “You’re losing it, Wilcox.” As the kind of agent who could close his eyes and tell you every detail of his surroundings, it was a horrific discovery to have missed such an impressive—

Kane returned his attention to the car. Willow darted a look around, and bent to dig through her purse. The thin arms of the apple tree no longer shaded the hood of her car.

“Jesus. I need to get more sleep.”

He grabbed his keys from the ignition and raced across the lot to reach Willow before she got in her car and drove away.

“Ms. Harper,” he called, still several feet away.

Willow froze then resumed digging in her purse.

“Ms. Harper.” Now beside her, she couldn’t help but hear him.

She glanced up, her bright, leaf green eyes wide behind a veil of black hair. “Um, you have the wrong person.”

Jogging steps reached his ears. “Hey, what’s up?” the newcomer asked, looping an arm around Willow’s waist.

Kane turned. He should have known. Part of the problem with getting to Willow was her ever constant companion, Bruce. Kane’s gaze flicked over him. Bruce’s messed hair, his bottomless black gaze, the calm confidence of a surfer without all the posturing. But Kane wasn’t there to talk to Bruce.

Kane held up his badge, and stepped closer to Willow. “Do I still have the wrong person?”

Willow made a sound of disgust. She shot a look at Bruce then narrowed her eyes on Kane. “Do you mind not blowing my cover, Agent—” She peered at the I.D. “Kane Wilcox? Here, on campus, I’m Willow Harley.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’d like you to come with me, please. Just you.”

“Not likely,” she scoffed.

Bruce grinned, tightening his hold on Willow.

“You don’t exactly have a choice,” Kane countered.

“Sure, I do. I can get in my car, and drive away. Unless you have some kind of FBI warrant?”

“Unless you really want me to call Austyn Felix and tell her who you really are?” he countered.

“That’s low, even for the FBI,” Bruce cracked.

Willow looked troubled. “Can Bruce please come?”

“No, ma’am, but he can follow you to the office and wait outside.”

“Why can’t I ride with him?” she asked.

Kane sighed. “Because, Ms. Harper, I need you two separated and there’s less of a chance you’ll drive off together if you’re with me.”

Willow’s bottom lip tucked under her front teeth. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, but I need to call my brother and let him know we’ll be late.”

Kane wasn’t thrilled about that. Putting himself and his activities on any of the male Harpers’ watch-list wasn’t something he relished. Those boys would have him background searched and followed before the day was over. They were good at their jobs, and having the tables turned on him, didn’t feel like a picnic.

Kane lightly caught her upper arm, escorting her to his car. Willow found her cell phone faster than during her previous purse search and was informing whoever picked up that the FBI had her in custody. When she got to the part about Kane possibly blowing her cover, he could hear the angry rush of words on the other end as a muffled blast of testosterone.

Willow winced. “He wants to talk to you.”

“He who?”

“Sage.”

“No. Not until we’ve concluded the interview. I have some questions for you, Ms. Harper. You aren’t actually being
taken into custody
.”

Willow relayed the information. It didn’t sound like Sage was appeased. Kane took the phone from her, and depressed the end call button. Then he held down the power key until the screen blinked off. Handing the phone back to her, he smiled tightly.

“It won’t take long. I need your help.” Kane opened the passenger door of his car.

Willow sighed.

“Please?”

She slipped inside. He breathed relief as he shut the door behind her. Circling the front of the car, he got in, and started the engine.

“You know, they make fake badges now days,” she said.

He tossed his onto her lap. “Feel free to check it out. Write down the number if you want. I need some information, and you’re the one who can give it to me.”

Kane shifted into gear, but his foot stayed on the brake. He looked at her, hoping she could read the sincerity in his eyes. Willow pursed her lips thoughtfully. The tight pink moue only plumped the already soft flesh into a teasing kiss. Unfortunately, her eyes said, “stay away.”

That wasn’t an easy request. Willow Harper was just as beautiful as her sisters. Younger by a few years, but with all the attitude and entitlement of a youngest sibling, Kane expected her to stomp her cute little feet and call in the big dogs. Okay, so she’d called the big dogs, but not to come help. And instead of stomping a perfectly arched foot, encased in black high heels, she crossed her long, slim legs. Willow’s loose hemline slid backwards, revealing yet more trim thigh, and Kane momentarily forgot what he was waiting for.

He turned the key in the ignition and heard the protesting grind of an already engaged engine. Willow’s gaze darted to the steering column, then back at him. While it was clear she hadn’t missed the engine-abuse, she wasn’t distracted by it.

“Since you were willing to ruin my cover, I’m guessing this has something to do with Austyn?”

Right, he wanted her to answer questions. “Let’s get back to my office and discuss it there. Unless you want someone to see you with me?” he asked.

She shook her head, her long hair sifting over itself in a loose ebony tumble. Kane cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and faced forward. He’d counted on Harper family resistance to his case. He hadn’t counted on controlling his libido.

I’m a professional. She’s a woman with information. Get to the office, pick her brain, get her cooperation, and be done with it
.

“Bruce might have information too. You should talk to him while you’re talking to me,” she said quietly.

“You’re the one I’m interested in.” A hot flush rose up his neck. “For the
case
.”

He could feel her eyes on him. “Really?” She drew the word out with a hint of amusement.

I’m thirty six goddamn years old. I will not let this
kid
, ten years younger than me, get under my skin
.

“You’re the closest one to her,” he clarified.

Except she
was
getting under his skin. He felt like a randy teenager. Bruce was more her age. He was the kind of boy Willow could wrap around her finger. Bruce wore his hair shaggy, every brown lock in a deliberate swag or spike, adhering to the mis-fashion of his generation. Bruce’s black eyes were so dark, there was no difference between his iris and his pupil. It was creepy. Kane could also see why Willow worked so closely with him. Because as creepy as that gaze was, it was magnetic. The one time Kane had caught it, he’d been sure his cover was blown.

Kane pulled up in front of the sector office. He and Willow entered the building and rode up the elevator in silence. She shot him small sidelong glances, and he felt his confidence boost with each one. The elevator dinged, letting them out on the twelfth floor. Motioning for her to walk ahead of him, he directed her to the small interviewing office at the rear of the building.

Kane pulled out a chair for her and suggested she take a seat.

“Do I need a lawyer?” she snarked.

“No. Unless you think doing your civic duty to help the government requires someone with a degree to lie.”

Willow frowned and folded her arms across her chest.

“Please take a seat, Ms. Harper. I’m not grilling you, and you’re not in trouble. We need your help.”

Willow sat, but kept a suspicious gaze on him.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, hoping to relax her with hospitality.

“Water would be great. I feel a little dry.”

He nodded his head once, turned, and headed for the door. “Don’t leave the room, please. I’ll be right back and we can get through this quickly.” He smiled, though it felt forced.

Her return smile appeared just as wooden.

Kane filled a Styrofoam cup with ice water, careful not to spill it on the research file, as he returned. He’d picked up a couple of break-room cookies, too. She didn’t look like a cookie eater, but he was going for ambiance. If she felt like a guest, theoretically she’d behave like one, and this would go pleasantly. Psych 101.

When he got to the room and opened the door, though, she wasn’t there. It looked the way he’d left it. Three chairs, a table, and a…coat tree? Kane put the offerings on the table then jogged back through the doorway.

“Hey, Torrez,” he called to the nearest stationed agent. “Did you see a good-looking brunette leave?”

Torrez shook his head distractedly, as he continued to argue with the phone.

“Great. Just great,” Kane muttered.

He turned the opposite direction out of the room. He’d have passed her if she’d gone the other way. It was a prank. It had to be. He could see her leaving when he asked her to stay, but putting a coat tree in the room? That smacked of a lame-assed joke.