Covert Agent’s Virgin Affair Page 2

  Eyes: the color of fine aged whiskey.

  Or maybe…

  Eyes: deepest amber, the color of clover honey.

  “For most of my life I’ve been at least a hundred pounds overweight,” Mary finally answered flatly, with no emotion in her voice—despite what he could only describe as fear in her eyes. “I’ve recently taken off the weight and reached my goal…more or less.”

  She lowered her chin, and stared into her glass of white zinfandel before continuing, “Being the ‘fat one’ in every crowd tends to put people off.”

  “You can’t be serious,” he cracked, before he thought about what he was saying.

  When her head came up too fast, he tried to recover. “People shouldn’t judge others by their outward appearance. You’re sure beautiful now. I would never have guessed you haven’t always looked the same as you do now. How’d you lose the weight?”

  “Are you asking if I had weight-loss surgery?” She shook her head but was watching him closely. “Too chicken. I did it the old-fashioned way—by letting a psychologist take my brain out and replace it with one a hundred pounds lighter and supposedly more sane.”

  A tentative chuckle leaked from her mouth, but Jake was having a hard time joining her in laughing over her little joke.

  “That’s phenomenal. Your willpower must be amazing.” He reached over his untouched beer and took her by the hand, anxious to get even that much closer to her. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be.” She tugged at her hand halfheartedly. But when he didn’t let go, she stilled.

  “Food was prime in my life.” She reached for the wineglass with her other hand. “Dr. Fortunata helped me see the truth. For years I used food to numb and distract myself.”

  “Numb yourself? To what? Why would a sweet girl from a nice small town need to feel numb?”

  Mary didn’t want to answer him. Couldn’t find the way. She made a big show of sipping wine instead.

  In the meantime, familiar words kept circling through her mind. You’re no damned good, Mary Walsh. No one could ever love you. God only knows what I did to deserve a child like you. You’ll always be worthless and ugly. Get out of my sight.

  “Okay,” Jake said in a hoarse whisper as he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “Maybe that question’s too personal for our very first conversation. But I like you a lot and I want to know more about you. Tell me about your family. I vaguely remember hearing something about a Walsh in the past few days… Was it on TV? A relation of yours?”

  “My father.” Oh, boy. If Jake hadn’t run off screaming after learning she’d been a tubby all her life, finding out about her father was sure to do it.

  “What happened to him?”

  “They found his body. Someone murdered him.” Funny, but over the years she’d gotten used to saying that word. Murdered. It had taken almost fifteen years, but the sound of it no longer seemed nearly as horrific as it once did.

  “How awful for you. Were you two close?”

  What could she say that wouldn’t chase him off? Again, she had little choice but tell the truth. He was bound to find out sooner or later anyway.

  “Not at all. In fact, I…everyone…thought that he’d died already. There’s a fellow in the state prison doing time for murdering him fifteen years ago.”

  Jake sat back, but stayed in his seat. “That’s…uh…unusual. Where’s your father been all this time?”

  She rolled her eyes and shrugged one shoulder. “Your guess would be as good as anyone’s. And before you ask, I don’t have a clue why he would pretend to be dead.”

  Probably because he was a lying playboy bastard, she thought grimly, but refused to say so. No doubt quite a few women would’ve been happy to see him suffer and die. Running from any of those women might’ve been an excellent reason for her father pretending to be dead.

  Mary took a huge slug and finished off the wine. Jake motioned to the waitress again.

  “I shouldn’t have any more. I’m still dieting and didn’t eat much today. I’m here at the librarians’ conference and we’ve been in meetings all day.” Not to mention that she normally didn’t drink.

  Tonight would be the first for many things, she hoped.

  Jake sat back and studied her while he played with his beer mug. “You’re embarrassed about your father being a murder victim. Don’t be. Not unless you killed him.”

  “Me? I can’t even step on a spider.” Not that she hadn’t dreamed about killing her father many times over the years. Even after she felt convinced he was already dead.

  The waitress brought her another glass of wine and Mary only stared at it as though it was a bug. Finally, she shook her head to break through her fog and picked it up. This was the start of her new life. What twenty-nine-year-old woman couldn’t manage a few glasses of wine?

  “My old man embarrassed the hell out of me, too, while I was growing up,” Jake said, and Mary felt the tension between them easing. “He was an overbearing bastard. Bound and determined his son would grow up to be just like him—despite knowing damned well that I didn’t want any part of who he was.”

  Mary reached out and laid a gentle hand on Jake’s arm. “I’m sorry. That’s hard. Who was he?”

  “A survivalist. One of those crazed individuals who lives in the backwoods and stockpiles weapons, waiting for the day when the big, bad government will arrive for a showdown.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Sounds like an awful way to grow up.” Mary’s heart turned a somersault in sympathy.

  “He did teach me how to handle weapons. And I can survive on my own without the trappings of civilization.” Jake sounded as if he thought those things weren’t any big deal.

  “But that wasn’t what you wanted. Was it?”

  He took a swallow of what had to be by now warm beer, and then gazed at her as if she was the only person on the planet who mattered.

  “Not me.” With a hollow-sounding laugh, he added, “I wanted to be involved in one of civilization’s biggest accomplishments—electronics. I wanted to learn how things work. How computers run. Why cell phones sometimes get signals and sometimes don’t. I thought engineering was magic and I was desperate to learn all those kinds of tricks.”

  “Whoo boy. I bet your father hated that.” Their stories weren’t the same, but Mary was feeling connected to this man. A connection through their overbearing fathers.

  “Yeah, he did. I got out from under his control at the first opportunity.”

  She took a slow sip from her glass while trying to clear her head. “So, why are you in real estate and not electronics?”

  Had she slurred a couple of those words? Maybe it was time for her to give up the wine. She set the glass back down on the table and tried to focus her eyes on Jake.

  He wiped his hand across his forehead and then put his palm out as if he was unable to explain himself.

  After a moment he said, “Commercial real estate is more lucrative. Electronics makes a better hobby.”

  He’d opted for the money. Of course. She could certainly understand that. She was considering a change of jobs for the very same reason.

  “You’re not married?” Jeez. She must be drunk.

  “I’ve never had the pleasure.” His whole expression changed and he smiled as if she’d just handed him the moon—or a new BlackBerry. “So far, I haven’t found anyone who could love me.”

  Think of that. They were like two nuts off the same branch. Mary felt as if she’d known him all her life.

  The waitress arrived at the table. “Sorry. It’s closing time. The bartender says you can have one more round. But you’ll need to drink up.”

  Jake turned to Mary and inclined his head as though it were totally up to her.

  “No, thanks. I think I’ve had my limit.”

  After the waitress took Jake’s money and left, Mary began to rise from her seat and said, “I can’t believe it’s 1:00 a.m. already. I…wish we had more time to talk.”

  Talking wasn’t
what she wanted, but she didn’t have the foggiest notion of how to ask him back to her room.

  Jake jumped up from the table and helped her to her feet. “Let’s take our time going back to your room. We can talk on the way.”

  Trying her best to keep the wide-eyed look of wonder off her face, she knew she was failing miserably. But she couldn’t help it. Everything she had ever wanted—ever dreamed about—was right here beside her.

  And he was walking her back to her room.

  Chapter 2

  Jake’s mission couldn’t have been going any better if he’d written his target’s lines himself. After a couple of hours and several glasses of wine, he’d already piqued Mary’s interest enough that she’d allowed him to walk her back to her room. This night would be a great start to his plan—of becoming Mary’s boyfriend.

  When she weaved from side to side down the hall, he slid his arm around her shoulders. She trembled slightly under the weight of his arm. Taking a deep breath, he caught the sweet smell of strawberries coming from her hair. A perfect scent for her. Like a field full of summer sunshine.

  It made him want to pull her closer. Take her in his arms and kiss her until they both lost track of their senses. Until the smell of strawberries surrounded them in a cloud of lust.

  Ahem. The mission always comes first.

  Straightening up, he went over the things bothering him about this assignment—in addition to his unusual physical reactions to the target. The target—Mary. He’d never met anyone quite as guileless as she seemed. Like a naive teen, she appeared incapable of holding back or fudging the truth. Was it all an act? To his trained lawman’s eye she looked about as old as the twenty-nine that was listed as her age. Those minor laugh wrinkles at the corners of her eyes gave her away.

  If she was putting on a gullible act for some reason, she sure as hell had him suckered in. But he was supposed to be a pro. This was his twelfth mission in ten years. Not his first.

  Still, this mission marked the first time that he had actually given out his own background during an undercover operation. Not a smart move. Once a covert agent started mixing up his cover story with his own life history, the whole backstory he’d constructed might come crumbling down around him. He understood that well.

  But she had been completely open with him about her relationship to her father. Open and embarrassed about letting him see that the murdered man was not someone she was sorry to see dead. Mark Walsh must’ve been difficult for her to deal with during their years together.

  Jake thought about how a good covert agent twisted with the wind. Went with the flow. The truth about his own father had come tumbling from his lips in an effort to gain her sympathy. Then he’d had a hell of a time recovering when she’d asked him why he’d chosen to go into real estate.

  Real estate. Why had he ever allowed Jim to talk him into that crazy cover? Yeah, yeah. Jake understood how real estate would be the perfect occupation, allowing a man on a mission to gain information. Real estate gave him plenty of excuses for snooping around. Just looking for potential property acquisitions.

  But now, hell…

  “We’re almost there.”

  They were. A few more doors down the hall. And they had yet to say two words to each other on the way here.

  Jake checked over his shoulder, still concerned that the earlier attack on him had some connection to his mission. But the hotel hallway was quiet. Not one soul in sight. His gut told him they were as isolated out in the hall as they would be inside her room.

  Mary pulled the key card from her purse and stopped. She turned to him with the most hopeful expression on her face.

  “This is it.”

  She was beautiful. Her eyes sparkled with youthful anticipation. Her long, full hair dared him to run his hands through it—to lose himself in the satiny texture and heavenly scent. But could he stoop to taking improper advantage of her inebriated state? It wouldn’t be fair.

  The mission always comes first.

  It had been eons since she’d let a man kiss her, and in Mary’s memory those previous times had been…stressful. She’d wondered why she had ever thought to give it a second try.

  But wasn’t that why she’d come to Bozeman in the first place?

  She gazed up into Jake’s piercing blue eyes and saw a sizzle in them that made her all antsy and suddenly filled with unbearable longing. Oh, yeah. She was going to try kissing a man again. Now. Right now.

  He bent his head, came within a whisper of her mouth and hesitated. It seemed as if he was giving her a chance to back out. Not a prayer of that happening.

  Mary closed the gap between them and fell into heaven. Instead of his mouth being mashed to hers as had happened in her previous experiences, Jake toyed with her lips. He nipped at them, then licked his tongue across her bottom lip to soothe any small pain. The tip of his tongue touched the middle of her closed mouth tentatively as if he wanted her to open up for him.

  She parted her lips, let his tongue enter and experienced pure bliss. He dug his fingers through her thick hair and pulled her closer. All of a sudden, the languorousness that had begun in her chest and tummy widened to encompass her limbs. Her fingers grew warm and limp. Her legs became weak and shaky.

  As he tightened his hold she felt every inch of his hard body pressed against her softness. His erection pushed into her belly. A jolt zapped through her when she came to the amazing realization that she was the one making him hot. Outstanding.

  Their tongues tangled again and the sensual awareness inside her grew to impossible heights. Her whole body began tingling. This was how a kiss was supposed to be. She’d read all about kisses and knew that at least some people liked the feelings that went along with a really good kiss. But she’d never imagined it could be like this.

  Letting herself revel in the sensations, she noted the changes in her body’s temperature. From somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that sweat was starting to form at her temples. Her palms were becoming damp. Her panties were getting wet between her thighs.

  The key card slipped from her fingers and hit the carpet.

  “Oh.” She pulled her head back and then bent to pick up the key, but her knees refused to hold her up. “Oh.”

  Crumbling to the floor, she felt flushed with embarrassment and regret. Surely no other woman had ever collapsed after their very best kiss ever and before they’d even made it to the bed. How ridiculous that she could be this much of a newbie at her age.

  “You okay?” He reached out his hand to help her up.

  “Um. I guess so.” If okay meant having the most amazing kiss of her whole life.

  She tried to stand, but found her legs wouldn’t hold her up. “I can’t… I can’t…” Down she went again, landing on her backside.

  When she began to laugh and cry at the same time, Jake took pity on her and reached down to haul her up in his arms. After all, it was his fault that she’d had too much to drink. He’d wanted her talking and in a good mood—not too drunk to stand up.

  But he would never in a million years regret that kiss.

  “The key card,” she said through giggles and tears.

  His knees were almost too old for this kind of move, but he managed to hang on to her and at the same time bend to pick up the card.

  “I’ve got it.” He opened the door and brushed them both inside.

  Once inside he was at a loss for what to do with her. He didn’t figure she was in any shape to stand on her own two feet again. Her room was small. One queen-size bed. One nightstand and one dresser with a TV sitting on top. The lone chair in the room was shoved into a far corner under a minuscule desk. Straight-backed with no cushions, he couldn’t figure a way to place her upright in that chair without her sliding back to the floor.

  Sighing, Jake walked to the bed and lowered her gently to a sitting position on the mattress. Steadying her, he stepped back and watched, making sure she didn’t hit the floor again.

  She popped straight up
like a Whac-A-Mole. He pushed at her shoulders until she went down on the bed again. She came right back up.

  “Hey, aren’t you going to kiss me again?” She took a shaky step in his direction.

  He took another step backward toward the door. “I think I’d better be going.”

  “Not just yet.” She grinned at him and his whole body went rock-hard. “Um…um… Stay long enough to help me.”

  He would be a lot better off simply making a run for the door; instead, Jake made the fatal mistake of asking, “Help you with what?”

  Rocking uneasily on her feet, she reached for the hem of her sparkly orange, long-sleeved top and pulled it up and over her head in one move. Pitching the top into a corner, she turned back to him wearing nothing above the waist but a silky lace bra and a big smile. She tilted her head and stared at him as if to say, Help me and yourself, big boy.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” His voice was too steely and harsh for the situation. But he was at a loss as to how to change things.

  She shook her head. “What am I doing?”

  “Making it hotter than hell in here.” His mind was on a dangerous edge as he fought with dueling impulses.

  He needed an out. Fast. Or an excuse to change the subject.

  Fortunately, he’d spotted something to talk about while she’d had her back turned. It gave him a momentary reprieve and would be something to occupy her mind, he hoped.

  “You have a tattoo on your shoulder.” He slid a little farther away and pointed. “What is that? A mermaid?”

  “That’s Disney’s Ariel. I had her done last week. I think she’s kinda sexy. Do you like her?”

  The mermaid tattoo did look like a kid’s cartoon character. It was sweet, but not the least bit sexy.

  “She looks like you,” he managed. “With the red hair and all. But why her?”

  “The tattoo was an effort to change. To become a new person.”

  That sounded like just so much psycho babble to him. “And did you? Become a new person?”