The Cinderella Mission (8 page)

Samantha stepped forward and extended a hand with the gracious elegance Ethan had counted on her showing. “So pleased to meet you, Kelly. I suspect we’ll all be seeing a lot more of you in the future.”

Ethan watched Kelly slide into conversation with ease.

They had somehow convinced these people after not more than one close-mouthed kiss and a simple greeting. It shouldn’t have been that easy, given how commitment-shy they all knew him to be since Celia.

Yet they’d bought it all the same. Had he and Kelly looked that convincing as a couple? So much so, Samantha immediately plopped Kelly into the prospect of any future gatherings.

The future.

Ethan hadn’t thought beyond finishing a mission in years and yet, he found himself imagining how much Kelly would enjoy outings on Jake’s yacht. Or how she and Samantha would discuss European politics and brush up on foreign languages together.

The future. With Kelly in it outside their roles at ARIES.

As much as an operative tried to distance himself from his cover, the lines blurred. He’d been around long enough to accept that. Except right now the lines seemed a hell of a lot more than fuzzy.

For the first time in over ten adrenaline-packed years with the CIA, Ethan Williams was in serious trouble.

“Thank you for going to the trouble to come over.” Kelly walked Ethan’s guests toward the sunroom door, tension twisting within her until she felt ready to snap.

She’d made it through with no social gaffes, rounding out their dinner party with after-meal drinks by the pool. So why the unrelenting tension?

Because that kiss had knocked her off-kilter for the whole evening. The heat of his lips, his breath, his words lingered.

Why did Ethan stir her when both of these other men left her cold? All three tall, dark and studly men could have stood in front of a camera—Matt for a
GQ
cover spread, Jake for a cowboy calendar pin-up, and Ethan for
Biker’s Monthly.

Kelly definitely favored the Harley.

Matt helped Samantha into her beige suede coat and winked over her shoulder at Kelly. “I wouldn’t have missed this.”

Jake’s pampered fiancée Tara smiled her farewell. Kelly suspected if they’d met without the endorsement of Ethan’s arm and hefty bank account, the woman wouldn’t have considered Kelly any more important than Aunt Eugenie’s brass bull doorstopper.

Jake clasped her hand. “Nice to meet you. Have Ethan fly you out to the ranch for the weekend sometime soon.”

Matt thumped Jake’s back. “Yeah, looks like these two may beat you to the altar if you change the date again.”

Tara’s smile turned brittle. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Apparently Matt’s White House position bought him
courtesy points since she let him off the hook with only one comeback.

After the couples left, Kelly sagged onto a poolside lounger. She stretched out, wiggling her toes inside her shoes and staring up at the stars.

Their kiss had left her too restless to call it a night. They would have to debrief the evening anyway. She would just keep a safe distance on her lounger.

Ethan dimmed the overhead lights until only the moonlight above and lamps inside the pool illuminated the glass room. He cruised to a stop beside her. “What did you think of them?”

He snagged a deck chair and flipped it to face her before he dropped to sit. Close. Too close.

So much for distance.

His elbows rested on his knees, a drink clasped in his hand. Muscled forearms flexed, a dusting of dark hair along tanned skin showing beneath his rolled and cuffed shirt.

The heater purred to life in the already too-warm room.

“I liked Samantha.” Air swirled around her, saturated with the scent of chlorine and Ethan’s musky soap. “She had some fascinating insights on the current political unrest on the Delmonico-Rebelian border. Delmonico should kiss her feet in gratitude if she gets that economic treaty hammered out with the US.”

Ethan tapped her chair with the toe of his wingtip shoe. “What were the two of you saying about us when you swapped languages?”

“Nothing much.” Except for Samantha’s friendly warning about Ethan’s commitment-shy ways and a confusing reference to a woman named Celia. Somehow the mere mention of that name carried more weight than a pack of Brittanys.

“And what do you think of the others?”

She turned her head to look at him, to enjoy the play of the starlight along his coal-black hair. “Jake’s a good guy. I’d trust him.”

“You’re right on with that. Solid intuition will serve you well in the field.” He rolled his glass between both broad palms. “What about Tara? You didn’t seem to say much to her.”

“I’ve learned that quiet can be good, too.” She toyed with the edge of her ponytail. “I discover more about people that way. You’d be surprised what I pick up around the agency because people don’t notice me.”

“Kelly—”

She didn’t want to hear his protest. “Or if they do notice me, they’re so convinced I must want detailed descriptions of their exciting lives since mine must be so boring.” Kelly smiled. “Listening to Tara go on, I got such a kick out of knowing that ‘astute’ corporate attorney didn’t have any clue who she was talking to.”

“You’re ten times the woman she is.”

“Thanks.” The draw of the admiration glimmering in his eyes proved as heady as his touch.

“I apologize for any awkwardness, all the same.”

“It’s not your fault she and I didn’t have much in common to discuss. Makes me glad you and I aren’t really a couple so I don’t have to put up with her for the rest of my life.”

Their eyes met, held, heated, until his gaze dropped somewhere around her ponytail dangling over the side of the lounger.

Ethan rattled the ice in his glass and knocked back the last swallow. “It took a determined woman to rope Jake.”

“Some don’t fall easy, I guess.”

“Guess not.” He scooped a melting ice cube from his glass and pitched it in the pool. “What about Matt?”

“He says you cheat at poker.”

“He’s just pissed because I beat him last time.” Ethan angled his head to the side. “So what did you think of him?” he asked again.

Kelly smiled at the memories of Matt ribbing Ethan throughout the night. “He’s fun.”

Ethan’s face blanked.

What? Did Ethan actually think she was stupid enough to chase after the guy, even if she was attracted to Matt, which she wasn’t. “You can quit the jealous boyfriend act since no one’s around. Mighty dog-in-the-manger of you anyhow since you only want me for the job.”

“Who says I don’t want you?” He lifted a strand of her hair and caressed it between two fingers.

Kelly held herself still, willing away the shiver of awareness at his touch.

He twisted the lock of hair around two fingers. “That doesn’t mean it’s right. Knowing I’m the wrong kind of man for you won’t turn off the attraction. Men’s minds and, uh, libidos aren’t necessarily in synch with each other.”

“Oh.” The power of that single kiss tingled back over her like a near-miss with an electrical socket.

“Yeah, oh. But your objection is duly noted. No more jealousy.” He dropped her hair. “Good luck chasing Matt around the White House when this is over if that’s what you want.” He started to stand.

She dropped her hand to his knee, halting him. “It’s not. Not what I want, I mean.”

Ethan sat down again without speaking.

“Just ask the whole office. I told them all how I feel, didn’t I?”

His pupils dilated until the black nearly pushed past the deep blue, like storm clouds chasing through a clear sky. The electric tingle spread into something more like an unharnessed lightning bolt.

Samantha’s words came back to haunt her. Not because she harbored any thoughts of settling down with this guy. But because he seemed so far out of her league at the moment she wondered if an encounter with him would leave her fried to a crisp.

She needed to think, and she couldn’t with him so close. So gorgeous.

So wanting her, too.

Kelly sat up. “I told the office this is about business. In spite of your…” she paused to let her eyes rake him in a bold maneuver she would have never managed a couple weeks’ prior, “…charms, I will do my job.”

She shot to her feet and made tracks away from him before all her bravado abandoned her in favor of returning for another round of Ethan’s kisses.

The house echoed like an abandoned tomb from one of Aunt Eugenie’s sightseeing jaunts. Sure the place usually reminded him of a crypt with all its ghosts, but he’d been willing to wade through them to find Kelly. No luck. Ethan took the stairs two at a time back into his apartment.

Where had Kelly gone after she’d run out an hour ago? He still wanted to punt Jake’s fiancée on her liposuctioned butt for being condescending to Kelly.

Although Kelly seemed to have held her own damned well.

A newfound respect for her swelled within him. He’d thought she was insecure. What the hell had he known? Kelly didn’t need to flaunt her importance to make herself feel good. She’d let Tara condescend without ever once setting her straight or putting her down.

So, if she wasn’t upset about Tara, what the hell had gone wrong to make Kelly run away? Whatever it was, he had to fix it and ease the tension between them.

If only he could find her.

Unease threatened the edges of his reason. He wanted to believe nothing could happen to her behind the walls of his home. But he knew he couldn’t count on that.

Part of him shouted to run the grounds. Find her. Now. But logic argued he could search faster with his surveillance system.

Ethan jabbed the code into his lock and swung into the main room. Five steps in, he realized he hadn’t taken time for any of his usual precautions.

Hell. He’d get them both killed this way.

He wasted twenty-three heart-pounding seconds checking his apartment before he leaned over the computer desk. Forget sitting. He punched codes, clicked through locations…

The empty industrial-sized kitchen.

The library. Aunt Eugenie and her cat curled up and napping in a wingback by the fireplace.

The camera made a slow sweep of the front grounds before he swapped to the rear-grounds angle.

“Come on, Kelly. Where the hell are you?” She wouldn’t leave without telling him. She might not be experienced in the field, but she knew better than that.

A flicker sliding off the screen snagged his attention.

Ethan reversed the camera. Adjusted the angle. Narrowed. Closer, until he locked in a close-up of the greenhouse.

A light shone through the thick panes.

His heart rate regulated back down to only time-and-a-half. He clicked through keys, searching for the camera inside the greenhouse.

Nothing?

He hacked into regular security…and still nothing.

Why the hell hadn’t any of them thought to install cameras inside the greenhouse? Ethan swiped his 9mm off the desk and sprinted down the stairs. Damn it, Kelly was inside. He knew it.

And heaven help anyone responsible if she’d had another one of her “accidents.”

K
elly reached to brace a hand on the glass pane beside the spidering ferns. Sleet pinged the greenhouse roof with hypnotizing regularity. She secured her headphones and let the CD sounds of
Ocean Serenade
soothe her.

She straightened into the delicious stretch until her spine reached perfect alignment, and then she began the series of controlled movements. She didn’t have the equipment for her Pilates stretches and exercises available, a price she would have to pay as she didn’t want to risk interruption in the gym. So she improvised, the solitude and scenery being more important to her. Her feet never tangled when she was alone.

Inhale. Stretch. Exhale. Inhale. The fragrant bouquet of hothouse roses, gardenias, lilacs and lush fertility swirled through her with every breath and conditioning exercise. If only she could capture this scent and setting to take home with her, so much more deeply transporting, sensually exotic than her window garden.

Tension melted from her a layer at a time as she directed
energy to one area at a time, while relaxing the rest of her body. She put all worries of investigations and deadlines and criminals out of her mind.

Excising thoughts of a certain agent tempting her to bare more than her tattoo proved a little tougher. What had happened to getting over him? Their whole evening together as a couple had felt real. Too real.

Too right.

Inhale. Stretch. Exhale. Focus on the rushing waves flowing through the earphones.

Her connection crackled. Wobbled. Kelly secured the cord on the headset. She should have just bought a new one. It wasn’t like the things were even expensive, but frugality became second nature in her quest for travel.

The soothing sounds steadied. Kelly nodded and pulled herself straight again. On a whim, she reached to snap an orchid off the plant. Eugenie had issued an open invitation to help herself to anything in the greenhouse, and right now she couldn’t resist treating herself to at least one sensual indulgence.

Kelly savored the heady scent before tucking it behind her ear. A frivolous gesture, but who would know here in the shadowed darkness?

Moving shadows.

Outside the window.

Apprehension stung her like the sleet sheeting the panes. Ethan had never uncovered who had followed them. She might be behind secured walls, but that didn’t mean she should let down her guard for a minute. She dropped into a crouch, cursing that her new SIG-Sauer lay locked and useless inside a secret compartment in her suitcase.

Hadn’t she learned threats could lurk in the safest of places? Her professor hadn’t respected the sanctity of school grounds when he’d lured her into his office under the pretense of discussing a test grade.

Her pounding pulse throbbed in her ears. At least no one skulking outside would be able to see her. She inched farther
to the side. Think. Stay out of sight until she could find a weapon and ID who it was.

She stifled suffocating memories of a hand on her mouth, blunt fingers pinching her nose until she stilled beneath him rather than pass out from lack of air. Her hands fisted.

More than her safety depended on keeping a cool head. Alex Morrow was somewhere, waiting, hoping his government would retrieve him.

What if Ethan had been the one lost overseas?

Determination fired within her. She made a quick visual sweep of the greenhouse.

Snaking a hand up, she snagged a miniature garden rake from the shelf. The lethal three prongs on the hand-sized cultivator would make a weapon more deadly than any dragon-eye slap. As long as she didn’t lose control of it.

Kelly crouched, crept toward the door. Adrenaline burned the sweat from her skin, the spit from her mouth. It was likely nothing, she reassured herself. Just some animal rustling through the snow. There certainly wasn’t much noise.

The knob turned.

Not an animal. Kelly’s grip tightened around the plastic handle. The door swung open, the entryway empty. Pressing her back against the wall by the door, she waited. She wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t strike unless necessary. But if she did—

“Kelly?”

Ethan’s voice rumbled through the opening even though he didn’t show himself. Relief surged through her and she shot to her feet.

Her body slammed against the wall. Ethan pinned her, his face looming over. Where had he come from so fast?

“Kelly?” His hand vise-locked her wrist to the wall.

Her fingers numbed. The three-pronged rake clattered to the ground. “Geez, Williams, way to stop a girl’s heart.”

He didn’t laugh.

She glanced down at the 9mm in his other hand. Suddenly
the abundance of flowery scents made her nauseous. Thank God for his fast reflexes in lowering the weapon.

Harsh lines marked his face, his skin pulled taut along angular bones. “Don’t ever, ever jump out at me like that. You’re damned lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

Residual fear made her ornery. “I didn’t jump out. You snuck up.”

“That’s what I do in order to stay alive, take my time entering an unsecured area.” Water glistened on his hair like the sparks flecking his angry eyes.

“I waited until I knew it was you.” She nudged the gardening rake with her toe. “And I had a weapon.”

A smile kicked through the harshness hardening his face. “Good, making the most of what’s around.”

Pride flowed through in a warm rush that eased her fear. Slowly, her heart rate returned to normal.

Only to speed right back up again.

His long lean body pressed flush along hers. His hand lowered her arm, bringing them closer still until her breasts flattened to his solid chest in an exchange of heat that conversely sent shivers through her.

He stared back at her. Then down. His slight shift allowed a whisper of air between them.

Ethan’s eyes cruised every inch of her leggings and sports bra. The fire of his gaze threatened to melt Lycra clean away from her skin.

Not that she could feel any more exposed than she already did.

She scrambled for composure. A sweatshirt to yank over her skimpy getup might help. Her increasing breaths threatened hyperventilation, not to mention too-damned-enticing brushes of her breasts against his pecs. “So glad you’ve decided to apologize for what you said earlier about Matt,” she babbled.

“I’m not here to apologize.”

“Oh. Then please leave.” Please, please, please. “I’m busy.”

He braced an arm over her head. “But I will apologize for scaring you just now.”

Kelly sagged against the wall, farther from him and the temptation to rest her hands on his shoulders. “I’m fine. Just startled.”

“Couldn’t guess by that yell.”

“I never yell.”

“Tell that to the office full of operative-support folks.”

“It’s called projection. Not yelling. There’s a difference.” She knew she was rambling to cover her nerves, but couldn’t make herself stop. “You can go now.”

He pushed away from the wall and strode down the row of plants, tapping along each one with careless leisure, while the 9mm dangled from his other hand.

“What are you doing?” She scooped her sweatshirt from the floor and yanked it over her head.

“Taking inventory.”

She grabbed her jacket from a hook by the door. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

“Stay,” he called over his shoulder without turning.

She shouldn’t. But suspected she would anyway. “Did we forget to discuss something?”

He shook his head.

“Okay. Then I’d like to go.” She clutched her parka in her hands without moving.

“Soon.” The length of the greenhouse separating them, he pivoted on his heel to face her. “Right now, I need to look at you for another minute.”

“What?”

He set his weapon beside a potted topiary of miniature roses. “You may have only been startled, but I was damned scared.”

“Of what?”

The harsh lines of his face hardened into a man she barely recognized, but she’d bet those he’d taken down in the field would know well. “You scared the hell out of me, disappearing like that, Taylor.”

“I did?” Kelly clutched her coat to her stomach in direct pressure against a dangerous yearning blooming faster than the orchid stretching toward the sunlamp.

“I’m responsible for you.”

And then he wilted those tender feelings as quickly as if he’d pulled the plug on the lamp. “We’re responsible for each other.”

“Whatever.”

Damn it, they had to start working together as partners or they would end up maiming each other with garden tools by the end of the week. She accepted responsibility, as well, knew she should have kept him informed if she intended to wander off.

But he wasn’t being straight with her, either. Sure his ego might sting if this assignment didn’t shake down right, but he would still have a future in the field. Unlike her. She needed to close this case.

Alex Morrow needed them to close this case.

No more holding back. No more secrets. Finally, Kelly asked the question that had knotted her muscles all night, necessitating her relaxing escape to the greenhouse.

“Who’s Celia?”

Ethan planted his feet to keep from staggering. Damn, the woman knew how to stage a hell of an ambush. “What?”

Kelly flung her coat on top of bags of potting soil. “Who’s Celia?”

He stalled for more time to find his footing. His head still buzzed from the outright fear that something had happened to Kelly. He didn’t need this conversation, not now when he just wanted to look at her and reassure himself she wasn’t somewhere bleeding out.

Or already dead.

Ethan braced a hand against a support beam. Yeah, he would just hold up this wall for another few minutes. “Where did you hear her name?”

“Samantha mentioned Celia as if I should already know
about her.” Kelly trailed a hand down a table of empty clay pots, her sweatshirt doing nothing to disguise her curves now that he knew what rested beneath that cotton.

“Who’s acting dog-in-the-manger jealous this time?”

She met him toe-to-toe. “This has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with the integrity of our cover. If I’m going to convince people we’re a couple, you can’t hide important parts of your dating history from me.”

She was right, damn it. He pulled the words up and out. “Celia and I were engaged. She died.”

Kelly deflated. “Oh, Ethan. I’m sorry. How? What happened?”

“Still working to get our stories straight?” he asked with bitter precision.

Her hand settled on his arm with a gentle reassurance he didn’t want.

“Ethan, be fair, please. That’s not why I’m asking now, and you know it.”

He stared down at her wide-open face, so full of emotions and caring and giving. The eleven years difference between their ages stretched in front of him. The world he’d made for himself would suck her innocence dry in a heartbeat.

He held still, only an inch of air and miles of experience separating them. “In case you haven’t noticed, life isn’t fair and I’m not a nice guy. Whether it’s poker or basketball or my job, I fight to win. I learned fast and early there are too many damned times you can’t control losing, so you’d better fight like hell to win the ones you can. No rules. No boundaries.”

She didn’t move, didn’t stop him, just listened with her typical Kelly understanding that wore him down faster than any amount of questioning.

Ethan jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her, holding her close and stealing some of that sweet innocence, and damn it, yes, comfort, for himself. The sooner he told her about Celia, the sooner they could move on. “She caught hepatitis on a trip to Mexico. It destroyed
her liver. She died before an organ donor became available.”

Kelly stroked his arm. “I wish you’d told me.”

Anger steamed through him, mostly at himself. “Damn it, I know I should have briefed you.”

“No.” Silky hair straggled free from her ponytail, but not enough to hide the sympathy he didn’t want. “Before this case. I wish you’d told me.”

And watch her eyes turn soft and compassionate the way they were doing now? Not a chance would he have risked that. “Talking about it won’t change anything. It happened six years ago, right before I joined ARIES. I was a regular CIA operative then, so most people in ARIES don’t know. I should have considered that Samantha or Matt or Jake might mention her.”

He defied her to ask more. Hell, he would have. But then Kelly was a better person.

“Okay, that subject’s closed.” A bracing sigh later, she asked, “But is there anyone else I need to know about?”

He shook his head. “No one. There haven’t been more than passing relationships since then. Never anything serious.”

Never.

The word hovered between them in the silence, only the watery hiss of the plant mister answering his one statement that told more than he’d wanted to relay.

Time to stem all the sympathy pouring from her like water from the ceiling. “You know I go out, but only with women who want as little as I do. The smart ones like Samantha punch out of any relationship with me damned quickly.”

Her gaze probed him, luring him to share more than if she’d openly asked. He needed to distract her before he started spilling his guts in some pathetic display that would land him right up against the comfort of those incredible breasts. “So what were you doing out here anyway in this getup?”

“Pilates.”

Pilates Method exercising? Good God, he’d expected any answer but that. “How does a girl who grew up on a Nebraska wheat farm pick up an affinity for Pilates?”

She stared at him so long he wondered if she would let him off the hook, but her sweeter side obviously won out against her pit-bull determination. “Nebraska isn’t the boonies.”

He held up his hands. “Sorry! No offense to Nebraska.”

“None taken.” Her shoulders relaxed their defensive arch. “Actually, I started out with meditation first, looking for some kind of relaxation. It takes a lot of late nights to become fluent in seven languages. That doesn’t leave many hours for sleep.”

“Seven, huh? I wondered what the count was.”

She packed a big-time IQ under all that hair. No secret since Hatch had plucked her from the CIA ops support for ARIES so fast.