Secret Agent Boyfriend Read online

  Landry settled back in her seat, the aggression fading from her shoulders. “Ah yes, the missing Adair heir. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

  If the past few days had shown him anything, it was that the Adairs knew how to keep to themselves. Yes, they had a legion of staff at their disposal, but they were a family that lived at the highest echelons of society. Babbling about their family business wasn’t in their nature. And he suspected that what conversation had gone on was done behind closed doors so even the servants couldn’t hear all the details.

  “No, it’s all you and your family can talk about. And it’s the real reason Kate asked me to come.”

  Her gaze roamed over his face, and he fought the urge to shift in his seat under that direct stare. Before she could say anything, he pressed on. “My expertise is missing-persons cases. It’s what I do for the FBI and I’m damn good at it.”

  Until recently.

  That admonition whispered like smoke through his mind, and he ignored it. Ignored that pervasive sense of failure that had dogged his heels like the hounds of hell since his last case went unsolved. Ignored the resulting sense of loss at his failure to protect an innocent young girl.

  Landry Adair wasn’t Rena.

  And he wouldn’t fail again.

  “So that’s the gig? You pose as my new boyfriend so you can nose around here and dig into the past?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Landry slipped on her sunglasses, the shielding of her eyes as clear a message as simply standing up and walking away. “I’ll consider it on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re partners on your little investigation.”

  “I work better alone.”

  “Then you can head right back the way you came. Despite what she may think, my aunt doesn’t have a say in what goes on in this house. Neither do my brothers. And while I may love all of them to pieces, I’m not going to follow along like some frightened puppy.”

  “I’m a trained professional.”

  “And I live here. You’ll do far better as my ally than my enemy.”

  Derek knew he had a stubborn streak a mile wide and twice as deep. He also knew when it made sense to step back and let the target think they had the lead. He’d give Landry Adair her head for a few days. From all the intel he had, it was easy to assume she’d get bored in less time, anyway.

  “No one can know what I’m after.”

  “Of course.”

  “Not even your mother.”

  “Then it won’t be a change from how we usually get on. I don’t tell my mother anything. And as you so succinctly mentioned, she’s out of the country right now anyway.”

  With her eyes shaded, he couldn’t see any hint of emotion deep in her expressive gaze, but even sunglasses couldn’t hide the subtle tightening of her slim shoulders. “So we’re agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  She extended her hand across the table and Derek hesitated, the implied contract not lost on him. When she only waited, he slid his fingers over hers, her delicate skin soft under his calloused palm.

  It didn’t make sense, nor was it rational, but in that moment he knew his world had reordered itself. And he knew with even greater certainty that nothing would ever be the same again.

  Her hand slipped from his as she stood, her breakfast untouched. “Well, then. You’d better get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “We’ve got a governor to go meet.”

  * * *

  Landry slipped her cell phone into her caramel-colored clutch purse and left her room. She’d already fastened on her suit—Armani, of course—and the subtle jewelry that had become her trademark. Her heels sank into the ranch’s plush carpet as she moved from her wing toward the main staircase.

  Although she’d been raised with the understanding that not much was expected of her beyond perfect hair, impeccable manners and a few well-chosen charities, she’d determined early on that she wasn’t going to let that be an excuse. So she’d channeled the frustration born of low expectations—along with boredom and a damn fine business degree—into making life better for others.

  It had been a fulfilling choice until recently.

  Until the bottom had dropped out of her world and she’d been forced to wonder about the morals, ethics and basic decency of her loved ones.

  And her mother sat at the top of the list.

  As Patsy Adair’s youngest child—and only daughter—she’d grown up with the knowledge that her mother was different. Cold and brittle, she wore both like a battle shield against the world. And wielded them equally well.

  As a result, Landry had gone to the right schools. Had the right friends. Hell, she’d nearly even married the right man because it fit what was expected of her.

  Wealth brought privileges and expectation in equal measure, and Landry had always understood that. What she couldn’t understand was how her mother could live a life so devoid of warmth and kindness.

  Or love.

  She turned down the last corridor toward the stairs and came to a stop at the top, thoughts of her family and their low expectations vanishing as if they’d never been.

  Derek Winchester stood in the great hall, a phone pressed to his ear, and she gave herself a moment to look her fill. The same impression she’d gotten this morning of subtle strength and power was still there, but she let others swirl and form around it. He was tall and whipcord lean, but the strength in those broad shoulders was more than evident.

  His coloring was dark—darker than she’d realized in the sun—and she placed his ancestry as holding some, if not all, Native American. Unbidden, an image of him on horseback filled her mind’s eye, roaming the High Plains and protecting his family from harm.

  Protecting what was his.

  She fought the fanciful notion and continued on down the stairs, already on the descent before he could catch her staring at him. Landry fought the slight hitch in her chest when she cleared the last stair and came to stand next to him.

  And she refused to give an inch by relaxing the haughty demeanor that she swirled around herself like a cloak. “Do you have a suit jacket?”

  “In the car.”

  “And a tie?”

  “Right next to the jacket.”

  “Then let’s get them and go.”

  Twenty minutes later they were on their way toward San Diego in her BMW. Unwilling to ruin her hair, she left the top up all while cursing herself for the choice. She should have selected her large SUV instead of the tight confines of the two-seater.

  Serious mistake.

  Derek’s large body filled up those confines and she could swear she felt the heat rising off the edge of his shoulders, branding her with its intensity.

  “What event are we going to?”

  Landry filled him in on the work of her favorite charity, the project’s focus on children an ongoing highlight in her life. Although she’d let several of her other commitments lapse over the last few months since her father’s death, she’d refused to cut ties with the bright and able-bodied leaders who worked tirelessly to ensure that the children of Southern California had enough basic necessities to not only survive, but blossom.

  Weekend camps, tutoring and days out simply enjoying their youth were a mainstay of the organization, and in the past three years she’d seen the children who took part begin to thrive.

  “Sounds like a special group. Why is the governor attending?”

  “He promised some additional funding if we met certain testing criteria, and the children in the program exceeded every goal set for them.”

  “You’re proud of them.”

  “Absolutely.” The response was out, warm and friendly, without a trace of her “haughty demeanor” cloak.


  “Everyone needs a champion. Those children are lucky to have you on their side.”

  Whether it was the close confines or something more, Landry didn’t know, but she sensed something underneath his words. Treading carefully despite the curiosity that ran hot in her veins, she nodded and kept her tone neutral. “All children deserve that.”

  “Even if there are too many who don’t get that opportunity. Or a chance to shine.”

  And there it was.

  That subtle suggestion of something indefinable. Of something more.

  “You speak from experience?”

  “My work revolves around missing-persons cases. There aren’t nearly as many happy endings as there should be. Or beginnings, for that matter.”

  The urge to remain distant was strong, but something long dead inside her sparked back to life. “It sounds like a taxing profession.”

  “At times. But it’s also one I’m good at. Your aunt was a part of that.” She shifted into another lane, the sign for their exit coming up, and he continued on. “I was on her protection detail, but she saw something in me. She knew I had ambitions beyond security, and when a job opened on the FBI’s missing-persons team she gave me a glowing recommendation.”

  “You must have impressed her. Kate Adair doesn’t do ‘glowing’ lightly.”

  “She’s a special woman.”

  Landry risked a glance at him as she slowed for her exit ramp. His face was set in hard lines as he stared straight ahead, his gaze set on something only he could see. Once more, the realization that something hovered just under the surface tugged at her.

  The hotel came up on her right, and she pulled into the valet station. Two valets rushed to open their doors, the man on her left all smiles as he gave her his hand. “Welcome back, Miss Adair.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  Landry didn’t miss Derek’s widened eyes over the top of the car or the assessing gaze that accompanied his perusal. Annoyance speared through her at the speculation she saw there—and the surprise that she’d know the name of a hotel employee.

  Whatever he thought—or whatever she believed she’d seen—vanished under a facade that was all business as he rounded the front of the car. With swift movements, he took her hand. “Come on, darling.”

  Heat traveled up her arm, zinging from her fingers to her wrist to her elbow before beelining straight for her belly. She kept her expression bright and her smile wide, even as she clamped down on her back teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  His grip tightened, his smile equally fierce as another set of employees opened the hotel’s double front doors. “Why, escorting you, of course.”

  “I hardly think this is necessary.”

  “Of course it’s necessary. People see what they want to see, and we’ve got something for them to talk about. You’re showing off your new love, whom you can’t bear to be parted from.”

  While she’d later admit to herself she had no excuse, in that moment she could no more stop herself than she could have voluntarily stopped breathing. The combative imp that liked to plant itself on her shoulder—the one that regularly whispered she needed to push against convention and what was expected of her—couldn’t resist putting her earlier impressions into words.

  “So it’s all about distraction, then.”

  The rich scent of lilies filled the air around them, dripping from the six-foot vases that filled the lobby of the hotel, a vivid counterpoint to the foul stench of her father’s murder that had seemingly clung to her—to all of them—for the past two months.

  “Distraction?” Derek’s eyebrows rose over the almost-black depths of his eyes.

  “Of course. It helps hide the secrets. Like a sleight of hand, it focuses attention elsewhere.”

  “Are you suggesting you’re hiding a secret?”

  “No. But I think you are.”

  Landry had to give him credit, he held it together, his poker face firmly intact. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she wouldn’t have even noticed that slight tightening of his jaw that gave him away.

  “Everybody’s got a few, you know. But in this case, I’d say your secrets are more present. Recent, even,” she said.

  “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “Oh, no?” Landry waited a beat or two—her father had taught her the effectiveness of the approach—and watched as his attention caught, then held on her. “Then what is a big, bad FBI agent doing here on babysitting duty?”

  Chapter 2

  Secrets.

  The word whispered over and over through Derek’s mind, filling up every nook and crevice until he barely knew who he was anymore.

  Hell yes, he had secrets. And an endless series of questions that always culminated in the biggest query of all. When had it all gone so wrong?

  Six months ago he was a man with a plan. A career he loved. A fiancée he was planning on spending the rest of his life with. And a series of cases that gave him purpose each and every day.

  And now he was a glorified babysitter, living with the memories of a child who was still missing, a perp wounded by Derek’s own hand and a leave of absence while the FBI investigated it all.

  Did he have secrets? Bile choked his throat at the raw truth of that question.

  He had a boatload of secrets, and every damn one of them was eating him alive.

  “Stay with me, Ace.” Landry’s sultry voice whispered in his ear moments before her hand came to rest on his forearm. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

  She cocked her head, the motion almost comical if it weren’t for the well of compassion she couldn’t fully hide beneath her gentle blue gaze. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  She turned away before he could respond, and then there was no need when the governor stood before them, his crisp black suit as perfect as his smile.

  “Governor Nichols. So lovely to see you again. I so enjoyed catching up at Congresswoman Meyers’s home last November.”

  “As did I, Landry.”

  Landry made quick introductions and Derek sensed the question that hovered in the air among all three of them.

  Who was this man with one of California’s favorite daughters?

  Was he good enough?

  Would he ever be?

  “Derek’s a friend of my aunt Kate. She’s raved about him for years and simply insisted we had to meet.”

  The governor’s handshake was firm and his eye contact direct as he nodded through Landry’s introduction. “Kate always gets what she wants.”

  Landry’s arm wrapped around Derek’s the moment he was done shaking hands and she squeezed. Hard. “Don’t I know it.”

  Derek took that as his cue, smiling at Landry before turning toward Nichols. “And clearly I’m the lucky beneficiary. A beautiful, dynamic woman on my arm and the endorsement of another dynamic beauty.”

  “And what do you do, Mr. Winchester?” Nichols’s smile was broad, but Derek didn’t miss the continued curiosity underneath the polite veneer.

  “A little of this, a little of that.”

  “Derek’s got the especially lucky opportunity to travel where his whims take him. Give of his time where he sees fit. And support the causes that are near and dear to him.”

  Landry’s quick description of a wealthy, aimless playboy had the governor’s eyes dulling, and Derek chafed at the description.

  Sure, he was here on an op, nothing more. But it still stung.

  He worked damn hard, for every single thing in his life. None of it had come easy, nor had it come without a price. Long hours. Endless days spent briefing and debriefing, planning and then executing to a precise schedule.

  They exchanged a few more pleasantries—and Landry’s
confirmation of when the organization could expect a check from the governor’s office as promised. Only when Nichols walked away did Derek feel Landry relax by his side, her grip loosening, even though she didn’t fully pull away.

  “Nice job, Slick. Even if you were gritting your teeth through my flowery description of your globe-trotting adventures.”

  “I have a name, you know.”

  She dropped his arm, but the husky register of her voice made him feel as if they still touched. Intimately.

  “Yes, but then how can I objectify you in my mind? If I use your name, I’ll be forced to see you as a person.”

  He marveled at her words and their distillation of something career abusers inherently understood. Objectify the victim. See them as something separate. Apart. If you don’t humanize them, then there’s no guilt over your choices—as with Rena and her captor.

  “That’s awfully deep. And here I thought you had a business degree.”

  “With a minor in psychology.” She patted his arm before reaching for the slim purse she’d laid on their table.

  “I’d say you understand more than a few courses’ worth.”

  Those husky notes gave way to a lighter, airier tone. “Ah, yes. The glorious education one receives as an Adair. We can’t forget that.”

  Derek followed her back the way they came, down a long corridor and then through the main lobby. “Sounds lonely.”

  “At times. Until you hit a point when you don’t care any longer.” The breezy socialite was back as she handed her valet ticket to the attendant.

  Derek marveled at her quick and ready costume changes—the cool, refined temptress from the pool to the excited ingenue on their drive over to the responsible socialite with the governor.

  Each one was undoubtedly a facet of her personality, but which one was dominant? Which one was the real Landry Adair?

  And when had he begun to crave the answer?

  * * *

  Landry offered up a small “come in” at the knock on her bedroom door. She shoved the Roosevelt biography under her covers and opened the tabloid just as her brother Carson walked in.