Secret Agent Boyfriend (5 page)

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Authors: Addison Fox

BOOK: Secret Agent Boyfriend
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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.

Chapter 5

D
erek retrieved the results of their search queries from the printer and briefly toyed with hunting down Mark for an update on the Frederickson case. He’d managed to put some of his seething frustration aside since taking on Kate’s request to help the Adairs, but the case wasn’t ever that far from his thoughts.

The Bureau-imposed leave of absence hadn’t helped.

The case had captured his attention from the start, but the addition of too much time on his hands and a young girl still missing had been agony.

No matter how he worked through it in his head, he always came up with the same answer. He’d had no choice but to discharge his weapon, especially when their suspect—a low-level drug runner who thought he’d increase his income by kidnapping young girls—intimated he had Rena and then moved as if he were pulling a gun of his own.

It had been a race to see who pulled their weapon first, but Derek had beat Mark to the punch and fired. And it was only when he ran to the struggling, bleeding man on the floor that he realized he was unarmed.

In moments, it had also become clear the man didn’t have Rena.

One moment Derek was milliseconds from bringing a low-life scum to justice and saving the life of a young girl, and the next he was defending his job to the brass over a botched warehouse raid. He fought the roiling, seething anger that still rose up and grabbed his throat at odd moments. They’d worked so hard. And he knew they were close to finding the girl if he’d only had more time to keep pushing.

Instead, he now cooled his heels while the Bureau worked through its reams of paperwork and protocols. His section chief had been decent about it—and had practically pushed him toward the Adair case when it came up—but he’d still forced Derek to play by the rules and take some time off.

Wounding the main suspect in the kidnapping of a teenage girl was a Bureau no-no, no matter how badly the bastard deserved it.

The rip of paper pulled him back from his thoughts, and he glanced down at the printouts in his hands. The thick stack was crinkled in his fist, several edges torn. Easing up, he forced a sense of calm back into his thoughts. The situation was monumentally unfair, but he was working through it.

And he’d get through it.

“Derek?”

Landry stood over him, an even larger stack of papers in her hand, curiosity riding high in her gaze. “I made a few copies of the files you called up. I’m not sure there’s much there but I erred on the side of pulling more so we could sift through it later.”

“Good.”

She hesitated, that vivid blue gaze roaming over his face as if searching for answers. “Did you find something?”

“No. Nothing yet.”

“Well, that’s good, then. No evidence points to the fact that Noah’s not exactly who he thinks he is. Who he’s always been.”

“We’ll see what leads turn up after we spend some time with the material.”

“Of course.” Her lush mouth settled into a thin line, and the urge to apologize hit him square in the chest. When the impulse faded, one more powerful rose up in its place.

The desperate need to uncover the truth.

It was the hallmark of his personality, and it had been the driving force of his life, calling him to a career in law enforcement.

Landry settled into the cubby next to him and made herself busy with the stack of printouts. The stiff set of her shoulders hadn’t faded, but her focus on the material took some of the edge off. He watched as she typed notes into a small tablet on her lap, and he took the quiet moment to observe her.

She was prickly, yes. And she could turn on the haughty-rich-girl attitude at a moment’s notice. But he’d also seen glimpses of another woman beneath those shields.

She was loyal to her family, even though several of them didn’t seem to deserve the allegiance. And her thorny demeanor hid a deeply compassionate person. First her devotion to her children’s charity and then her obvious concern over digging into Noah’s background.

Landry Adair cared far more deeply than she was likely comfortable admitting.

A sweep of hair framed her face where she’d pushed it behind her ear, and Derek followed the firm line of her jaw. She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about it, but there was something else there.

Something rather fierce, if he wasn’t mistaken.

Landry Adair had the soul of a warrior. And after spending a few days with her he was more and more sure the people she surrounded herself with were completely unaware of that fact.

Her parents were more concerned with their own lives than the lives of their children. Her oldest brother, by all reports, had been maniacally focused on his career before settling down a few months ago. And her next oldest brother had spent his life in military service. Fair choices for both Whit and Carson, but it would have been all too easy to dismiss their little sister as they went about, focused on their own lives.

With that thought came another—an unbidden memory of Sarah.

She’d been the youngest of several children and had used her role as the baby of the family all too often to get her way. One of their last fights before they broke up had been about what she wanted.

She’d resented his job. She’d hidden it well during their courtship, the subtle disapproval rearing its head only on rare occasions. After they got engaged, though, her attitude had changed.

Resentment over his devotion to his work.

Anger over his long hours.

And bitterness for the victims—missing persons with no one to stand for them—that he worked so hard to find.

The day she left he’d been surprised, blindsided by her abrupt decision. But it was only later, when he tabled his hurt male pride, that he remembered all the signs that had littered the journey of their failed relationship.

While he couldn’t let go of his need to see the Frederickson kidnapping through to completion, his memories of Sarah had faded to near nothingness. The wounds still flared up at ill-remembered moments, but the pain of ending his engagement had lost the twin edges of regret and disappointment.

Now there was simply indifference.

“I heard you were down here in the boiler room. And with a beautiful woman, no less.”

Mark’s voice interrupted his musings and Derek glanced up to see his partner’s jovial face. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights hit his features at odd angles and Derek stood, taking his friend’s outstretched hand. “There hasn’t been a boiler down here for ages.”

“Once a boiler room, always a boiler room.”

Derek didn’t miss Mark’s pointed stare at Landry—or the scrape of her chair as she stood—and he made quick work of introducing the two of them.

“I guess I know why Derek picked the darkest place in the building instead of his desk upstairs.” Mark’s smile grew even broader, his eyes flashing amusement.

“Why’s that?” Landry’s polite smile never wavered in return, but Derek heard the notes of steel that lay beneath the polish.

“He clearly wants to keep you all to himself.”

“Then Derek and I are on the same page.”

Landry settled a hand on Derek’s shoulder, the warmth of her fingers at odds with the chilly tone of her voice. Mark had never been the most suave fellow—and beautiful women made him nervous on the best of days—but his wide eyes and even wider smile had Derek reconsidering the wisdom of bringing Landry here.

Although their office was well integrated, with several female field agents on the team, it was no place for someone he was pretending to romance.

Landry’s touch—and the not-so-subtle implication they were a couple—only added to his conviction they should have stayed away.

Mark’s eyes widened a bit further before he visibly backed down in the face of Landry’s cool reception. “I just wanted to come down and say hi. Give Derek an update on the latest with some of our cases.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

If the notes of dismissal weren’t clear in her tone, her return to her seat and obvious fascination with her tablet did the trick. Mark gestured toward the hallway and Derek followed, resigned to the explanations that would inevitably come when he and Landry reached the car.

* * *

Landry focused on her notes and tried to ignore the lingering unease Derek’s partner had managed to stir up. She had no doubt Derek trusted him—there was no way you could work that closely with someone if you didn’t—but she couldn’t shake the sense of dissatisfaction that had registered in Mark’s eyes.

Cold, flat and envious.

She’d seen the look often enough in the people her parents associated with. Other society families who didn’t have properties that matched the lushness of Adair Acres or business owners who hadn’t seen quite the same annual profits that AdAir Corp generated.

Humans liked their boundaries. And they liked it even more when they were the alpha dog. Landry had sensed—no, she’d known—in mere milliseconds that Derek was the alpha in his partnership with Mark.

“You hungry?”

At the mention of food, Landry’s stomach growled as she glanced up from her notes. “Where’s Mark?”

“That was a quick visit. He’s working a field assignment and had to get back to it.”

The statement gave her the opening she was looking for. “Is that a big part of the job? Field assignments?”

“It can be. Depends on what your job entails, but yes, it’s a significant part of an agent’s duties.”

“Is my family considered field duty?”

“No.”

The finality of his tone brought her up short. “Your time investigating my family isn’t sanctioned by the FBI?”

“I’ve been given leave, but this isn’t an FBI matter.”

The husky timbre of his voice wavered on the word
leave
and once again, Landry struggled to understand what was going on. While she’d blithely followed Derek down to the archives earlier, the afternoon had given her new perspective.

The FBI subbasement obviously held the tools they’d needed, but Mark’s visit had clued her in that it was a little odd that Derek hadn’t even tried to take her past his desk.

“If we’re not a field assignment then why are you staying at Adair Acres?”

“It’s awfully hard to play your boyfriend from Los Angeles.”

“Maybe.” She cocked her head and evaluated his sexy, trim form.

Probably
, her conscience taunted. Besides, would she really want him a hundred miles away?

“And I’m sure you know best of all, but no one argues with a favor for the former vice president of the United States.”

Derek’s smile was broad, bordering on cocky, and she gave him credit for the quick save. As answers went, it was effective yet evasive. But as a woman used to digging for the answers that lay underneath what people said, it was the fact that his grin didn’t quite reach his shuttered gaze that had her antennae on high alert.

“I would imagine it’s a challenge living like that. Always in the field.”

“How so?”

“Part of the fun of a job that’s always changing is that things are always different.”

“Sure.” Derek nodded. “I can see that.”

“In your case, the scenery changes but the lowlifes never do.”

Where she expected that stoic reserve to remain, instead something in the dark depths of his eyes seemed to open. “No. They never do.”

Landry wanted to dig further but sensed he’d opened as wide as he was going to. Instead of her normal bullish rush to have things her way, the realization that she might get better information if she bided her time had her nodding. “Why don’t we go get that late lunch, then? I know a mean little stall at Farmers Market that makes the most amazing hummus.”

“The one by the nut place?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s go.”

She navigated the normal midday traffic as they left FBI headquarters, excited for a stop at one of her favorite LA spots.

“I have to admit I’m a bit surprised.”

Landry turned toward him as she waited for the turn onto West Third. “Surprised about what?”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a Farmers Market girl. The Grove, I can see. High-end shopping and eateries. But its sweet, old-fashioned neighbor is a surprise.”

Derek’s words struck like swift arrows and she swallowed hard, fighting off the initial urge to offer up a smart-ass remark. Instead, she took her turn at the light and used the moment to marshal her thoughts.

How did they keep coming back to the same place?

No. Correction. How did
she
keep coming back to the same place?
Landry Adair, society girl.

Although she knew herself well enough to know she’d fastened on her cool, rich-girl attitude from the first moment with Derek, she also knew she’d let it slip more than once.

Was it possible that sense of connection she’d felt hadn’t been there at all?

With an indifferent shrug, she answered his question in simple, perfunctory tones. “I like being outside. I like food prepared by hand. This place has it all.”

“I always imagined the Farmers Market would be a great first-date place.”

Since she’d put on the shield of disinterest, she couldn’t exactly pull it right back off, so she kept her voice cool as she maneuvered through the parking lot. “A date?”

“Absolutely. It’s casual here but the market has the sophistication of being a part of old Hollywood. Definitely good first-date vibes.”

“So how many women have you brought here?” She put the SUV in Park and turned toward him, intrigued regardless of the shield of disinterest.

“Well, despite the brilliance of my plan, I am forced to admit I’ve never actually brought a first date here. But Sarah and I used to—” He hesitated before moving on quickly. “I used to come here often.”

Sarah?

Landry fought the subtle squeeze of jealousy that he’d spent considerable time here with another woman, firmly pushing the green monster away. Derek wasn’t a date, he wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t a man she wanted to get to know better. They were playing parts, and his background was none of her business.

And if she said it often enough maybe she’d start believing it.

* * *

The scents of the market surrounded them as they walked past the vibrant stalls. As usual, Landry nearly changed her mind ten times before she reached the small stand that served the best hummus outside Greece.

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