My Spy

by Marie Ferrarella

  Definitely going to hell for this, he told himself.

  “So,” he finally managed to say, measuring his words in order not to sound breathless, “what else did you say was on that list?”

  She laughed then, her breasts rising and falling, brushing against his arm and creating fresh tidal waves within the pit of his stomach. Damned if he didn’t want her all over again.

  Probably hadn’t the strength to act on that desire, he thought, but it didn’t stop desire from taking root and infiltrating his mind, seductively whispering along his all but spent body.

  “I think, Secret Agent Man, that we just managed to burn the whole list.” She took a long, deep breath, wondering just when her heart was going to stop racing and return to normal. Right now, the answer felt like never. She turned her body toward his, for the moment blissfully unself-conscious in her nudity. “So, is this how you ‘take care of’ all your assignments?”

  Joshua raised himself up on his elbow, looking down at her face. He looked very serious, she thought.

  “No,” he told her without even a hint of a smile. “This is a first.”

  For a second, she thought he was referring to making love. Just how simple did he think she was?

  Pru studied him for a moment. “And you were a virgin before this,” she teased. “What about that teacher you said you seduced when you were, what? Fifteen?” she reminded him.

  “She was never my assignment,” he pointed out, then added, “I’ve never mixed business with pleasure before, Pru.”

  She noticed he’d used her nickname instead of the given one she hated. Was that a slip, or on purpose? Because he knew she preferred it, or to get her off her guard? Her head ached.

  “Never?” she wanted to know.

  Joshua moved his head from side to side slowly. “Never.”

  “And if I were to believe you—” her tone indicated to him that for at least now, she didn’t “—what makes me so special that you broke your ‘never’ rule?”

  This time he did smile, just a little, as he toyed with the ends of her hair. “If you have to ask, then maybe you’re not the woman I took you for.”

  Something bubbled up within her, a giddiness that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She felt like laughing and she had no idea why. She knew better than to believe the word of a man who was just passing through her life.

  And yet…

  And yet there was something inside her that really wanted to believe. In love, in knights in shining armor. In him.

  “And just what kind of woman did you take me for, Secret Agent Man?”

  Joshua paused for a moment, as if he was giving her question serious consideration. “Feisty, intelligent, feisty, witty—did I say feisty?”

  Her mouth curved invitingly. She shifted her body a little closer to his. Even as she did so, she could feel it humming. Anticipating. “You did.”

  He inclined his head, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Bears repeating.”

  His breath tickled her. She didn’t bother pretending that she wasn’t reacting. “Yes,” she agreed, smiling as she threaded her arms around his neck. “It does.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand her meaning.

  Cassandra paced around the spacious suite that had once belonged to her father and now served as her bedroom. It was three in the morning.

  She didn’t sleep much anymore.

  The last few months, sleep had begun to visit her less and less. And when it came, it rarely remained for very long, slipping away like a guest afraid of overstaying his welcome.

  It was because her mind never stopped working. She couldn’t allow it to. She had not gotten where she was by letting nature take its course, or by letting “the men” handle things. She was at the head of this vast, powerful organization not because she was her father’s daughter but in spite of it.

  Because Maximilian had wanted to pass this to a male heir. After Apollo had died, he’d tried to groom others for the position. Others whom she had secretly taken care of, either on her own, or by making use of the men who succumbed to her. Until finally, she’d put an end to it, an end to her father’s search.

  An end to her father.

  It was necessary. He’d been her weakness. Because she loved him when he didn’t love her.

  Men. They were useless. All useless. Her father, her brother, the men who now bore alliance to her, they were all mere pawns for her to use in her plan to become an ultimate force to be reckoned with.

  Even Troy, the child she’d taken to her breast, the son she had christened with her name, even he was guilty of the same sins as the others of his gender.

  But for him, she had hope. Because she had schooled him to follow her path, to think her thoughts. To become the shadow of her ambition.

  And when the time came, she would use him. Use him to strike at the man she’d once thought different from all the others.

  The man she was now bent on making repentant with every breath he took. Until there were no more breaths to take.

  She raised the receiver to her ear, pressing a single button. The other end was picked up before the first ring was completed.

  As it should be.

  “Well?” she demanded sharply.

  A voice on the other end said, “Malcolm is dead, as is Conrad. Ken was arrested.”

  “Kill him.” Her voice was flat as she struggled to contain her rage. She would not be bested. “And send in the second team.” Cassandra let the receiver drop back into the cradle and rose, crossing to the window.

  She drew aside the drapes and stared into the moonlight, wishing she could sleep.

  Chapter 12

  The room was stuffy. He didn’t dare open the windows. That would be courting disaster. Long ago, he’d learned there was no such thing as too safe.

  And at the heart of the reckless life he led, he always played it safe.

  That, he was beginning to think, sitting on the side of the bed and looking at the woman he’d made love with for a good part of the night, included the women he’d had. Wild, sensual, sexual, they were still all safe. Safe because he wouldn’t have wound up at the end of the month with any of them.

  But this one…

  This one had to be protected, he reminded himself tersely. Everything else was just secondary. Or inconsequential.

  Joshua glanced at his watch. They’d already been here too long. Too long in one place. He didn’t like to tempt fate.

  Because he knew she was exhausted, he’d let her sleep as long as he could and even now, he was loath to wake her. But he knew he had to.

  Against his practical nature, Joshua paused a moment longer, just watching her sleep. The spitfire looked a great deal more peaceful this way than she had since he’d met her.

  It was hard for him to believe that was less than twenty-four hours ago. It felt more like a lifetime. They’d fought, run for their lives and made love in less time than it took to marinate a fine steak. They’d packed the last half of the day to the bursting point. It was going to be a long time before he forgot any of it.

  Especially the lovemaking.

  They’d made love one more time before finally falling asleep. At least, she’d fallen asleep. He had learned the art of sleeping with one eye open when he joined the Lazlo Group. He couldn’t remember when he’d actually gotten a full night’s rest, even on holiday.

  But she had certainly done her best to iron out all the kinks in his body, Joshua thought with a smile. Too bad there was no time for an encore.

  Although, now that he thought of it, he had a feeling that in the light of day, she would probably push him away. Nothing about Prudence Hill, he was learning, was simple or easy.

  But then, that was what made her interesting. And him interested.

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently shook Pru. “Rise and shine, princess.”

  In response, Pru, still firmly entrenched in a dreamless sleep, merely swatted his hand away and rolled over on her s
ide.

  God, but she looked delicious, he thought, then roused himself. There was no time to get distracted, or get lost in the rise and fall of the curves of her anatomy. It was almost six. The sun had been up for a while now. And they had to get going.

  “Sorry, Prudence.” He shook her shoulder again, more forcefully this time. “We need to get going. If nothing else, we’ve got a limited amount of time to get to your father and I don’t want to cut it too close or get too cocky about making it.” And then he smiled. “Even though after last night, I feel that wouldn’t exactly be that much of a stretch.”

  Last night.

  Pru’s eyes flew open. The next second, as her mind focused, she bolted upright. And realized, as she sucked in air, that she was still very nude and right now, the object of Joshua’s very intent stare.

  Indignant, embarrassed, Pru grabbed the edges of the comforter on either side and yanked it close to her, even as she felt her skin shrinking back from the fabric. Being wrapped in a less-than-clean comforter was still better than being exposed to Joshua’s unrelenting scrutiny. Didn’t he have any decency?

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded angrily.

  A gentleman would have looked away. But a gentleman wouldn’t have made love with her like that last night. And he wasn’t a hypocrite unless he had to be. “Looking at one of the very best bodies I’ve had the privilege in my lifetime to see.” And then he raised his eyes to her face. “However, we do need to be on our way,” he urged. “Bad guys,” he reminded her in case she’d forgotten.

  Pru took him literally and immediately scanned the area. “Where?”

  “That’s just it, we don’t know.” He moved about the room, pacing. Impatient to be gone. “So we need to hit the road and keep things in our favor.” He stopped at the foot of the bed.

  “Turn around,” she ordered.

  This time, he stared more intently. What was this nonsense? “Excuse me?”

  Pru twirled her index finger downward in the air, indicating motion. “Turn around. If you want me to get dressed, you have to turn around.”

  “I’m the one who undressed you, remember?” Finding the whole thing oddly humorous, Joshua did as she asked and turned his back to her. “There’s no reason to suddenly turn shy on me, Pru. I’m the same guy whose clothes you almost ripped off last night.”

  “I wasn’t ripping,” she protested. “My nails got caught in the material.” It was a lame excuse, but it was all she had.

  “If you say so,” he answered in a singsong tone that told her the exact opposite. “Although I have to admit this sudden modesty is rather sweet in an old-fashioned sort of way.”

  Pru bit back a few choice words. He was patronizing her, she thought angrily. She hated being patronized.

  “It didn’t mean anything you know,” Pru told him heatedly as she hurried into her clothes. “Last night,” she clarified in case she’d lost him. “It didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t myself.”

  He laughed shortly, shaking his head. Picking up the holster, he rested his foot on the bed and moved his pant leg up, exposing his calf. “Whoever you sent in your place was one hell of an athletic wonder,” he commented, strapping his weapon to his calf before lowering the pant leg back into place. It was hidden to all but the well-practiced eye.

  “I do that sort of thing all the time.” She did her best to sound casual, dismissive. Anything but the way she felt. Like a tender-footed cat on a tin roof sizzling beneath the July sun. “There’s nothing to single you out.”

  He accepted that the way he did everything else. With a grain of salt. She was too adamant when she said it. The line about Lady Macbeth protesting too much ran through his head, but he refrained from saying it out loud. He had no desire to agitate her. Yet.

  “Nice to know I blend in so well with the rest of the male population,” he replied crisply. It was time to cut through the bull. He knew why she was saying what she was. It was a trust issue. “Look, Pru. I’m not about to sell the story about last night to the nearest tabloid. You can stop worrying.”

  Pru took instant umbrage. “I’m not worrying,” she snapped. “I’m—” And then, just like that, she ran out of steam. Slanting a look in his direction, Pru asked, “You’re not?”

  “No.” Not above needling her just a little, he added, “It would ruin my cover.”

  She couldn’t explain why, since she’d expected nothing more from him, there was this sinking feeling in her stomach when Joshua said that. “Is that the only reason?”

  Really in a hurry now, he still spared her one intense look. “What do you think?”

  Warmth crept over her. The kind of warmth that led to acts that were less than prudent. The irony almost made her smile. She straightened her shoulders. “I think we’d better do as you said and get out of here.”

  “That’s my girl—in only the most general sense of the word,” he quickly qualified when she looked at him sharply.

  The look didn’t fade. Now what the hell was going on? he wondered, hustling her out the door.

  The same clerk from last night was at the desk, in the exact position they’d originally found him. With his head cradled against the registry where they had signed in last night under false names.

  Except that this time, the position had become permanent.

  The air caught in Pru’s lungs. She opened her mouth. Whether to scream, protest or make a vehement disclaimer she wasn’t sure but she never got a chance to express any of it. Joshua’s hand clamped over her mouth.

  Shock telegraphed through her as she continued to stare at the clerk. There was blood, fresh blood. Pooling just beneath the man’s head, seeping onto the pages of the guest registry.

  Slowly removing his hand from her mouth, Joshua indicated the door they’d just walked through with a sharp nod of his head. He didn’t have to do it twice. She was ready to flee the minuscule lobby in a heartbeat.

  In her wake, Joshua quickly looked behind the front desk, looking for the clerk’s killer. There was no one in the area but the three of them. The killer was nowhere in sight.

  And then he was.

  He heard Pru stifle a strangled cry of surprise. Instincts took over immediately.

  The doorway was blocked by a wiry, thin man not much taller than she was. He had the coldest eyes she’d ever seen.

  “You’ve given us a lot of trouble, Miss Hill.”

  “Pru, drop!”

  Instantly, she went limp, falling flat on the floor just as the man was about to reach for her. A shot whizzed above her head. She could almost feel its vibration as she heard metal meet bone.

  The next second, she was being yanked to her feet and propelled forward, forced to step over the body of the man who was no longer a threat to her.

  But still the nightmare was continuing.

  Her eyes scanned the area, looking for others. For more. “Who are these people?” she demanded breathlessly, bursting out the front door.

  “The best damn trackers I’ve ever run into,” was all Joshua said. Rather than the vehicle he’d left parked in the lot last night, he hurried her into the only other car in sight, a sleek, black sedan.

  The smell of new leather faintly registered as she fumbled with the seat belt. The killer’s car? “What about the truck?” she wanted to know.

  “Low on petrol,” Joshua retorted, annoyed that even at a time like this, she was constantly challenging him, demanding explanation. The car sputtered to life. He dropped the two wires he’d brought together and grabbed hold of the wheel.

  As he drove away, flooring the accelerator, he looked in the rearview mirror. Another man was running out of the inn, brandishing a gun.

  “Duck!” Joshua ordered.

  “Why?” she cried. “There’s no one up ahead.”

  Rather than argue with her, Joshua covered her head with his hand and physically pushed Pru down far into her seat.

  Just as something whizzed through the vehicle on her side.

>   “There’s more,” she lamented in disbelief, staying down.

  “There’s more,” he confirmed grimly.

  He drove like a man possessed.

  Pru looked over her shoulder at the black sedan that she and Joshua had just spent the last ten minutes covering up with broken branches and loose shrubbery so that it wasn’t visible from the road. They were now quickly putting distance between themselves and the vehicle. She’d followed orders, but not willingly. It made no sense to her.

  “Why are we abandoning the car?” she asked for the third time, her tone indicating that she wasn’t going to be satisfied with just going along with this. “Can’t we just drive it to London?” That would have made more sense to her.

  “Because they’ll be looking for it,” he told her. Not to mention that the car might have a built-in tracking device or be rigged to self-destruct after a given point if a code wasn’t properly input on it. He’d taken it because he knew it was faster, because it had temporarily left Pru’s would-be abductors without their own transportation and because it had gas. But keeping the car was pushing their luck.

  She sighed, not at all happy with this change in venue. “So we’re walking?”

  He looked at her, an amused smile curving the corners of his mouth. “I’d never make the prime minister’s daughter walk.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Was he lapsing into some kind of riddle? “We’re walking now.” She gestured at the dirt path they were on.

  “To London,” he qualified, feeling remarkably even-tempered, given the circumstances. “I’d never make the prime minister’s daughter walk all the way to London.”

  “So where are we going in the middle of nowhere?” she wanted to know. “With your bum leg,” Pru tagged on, looking down at the leg she’d taken a bullet out of not that many hours ago.

  “My leg is not bum,” he informed her calmly. “It’s healing.” And then he heard a rumbling noise in the distance. “At least, I hope it is,” Joshua murmured under his breath.