Best of Virgins Bundle

by Cathy Williams

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “There’s no need to call me ma’am. We’re all one big family here. My name is Samantha,” she said, and then asked, “And your first name is Anthony?”

  “Tony’s fine.”

  For this assignment, he was keeping his hair dyed inky black. Thanks to tinted contacts, his blue eyes were temporarily brown. He’d even added a mustache. His naturally dark complexion had always made it easy for him to take on a Mediterranean look.

  “Well, Tony, I certainly hope you’re enjoying yourself. Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Yes, ma’am—I mean Samantha.”

  She smiled again—a smile meant to reach right into a man and make him relax. Maybe even threaten his control. Kyle felt another unexpected zing of physical awareness, but hardened himself to the response.

  “Do you dance, Tony?” she asked.

  He glanced toward Damon, who was giving him a cheesy grin and a sly thumbs-up behind her back. Then he looked toward the dance floor. Several couples were shuffling around to a slow tune, but he wasn’t eager to join them.

  “I’m not much for dancing,” he insisted.

  Samantha curled her fingers around his forearm, smiled and batted her lashes with the finesse of a siren.

  “Please, don’t be shy. I promise I won’t step on your feet,” she teased. “I’d feel honored if you’d share at least one dance with me.”

  He glanced toward Haroldson. “Sure the boss won’t mind?”

  Her husky laughter shivered along his nerves. “I promise the boss won’t mind. He thinks it’s important for a hostess to mingle with her guests.”

  She gently but firmly led him to a shadowed corner of the dance floor, and then fitted herself snugly against his body. Heat radiated through him at every point of contact. Her hands slid up his chest to settle lightly on his shoulders, and she tilted her head back to study his face.

  Kyle returned her steady gaze while his senses feasted on her warmth, the sweetness of her scent and the full, firm breasts pressed against his chest. He slid his hands to her waist and enjoyed the feel of the taut feminine body wrapped in soft, silky fabric. His fingers tightened convulsively.

  It felt good to hold her. Really good, yet disturbing. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong woman, his brain insisted while his body vibrated with pleasure. It had been too long since he’d felt such a rush of sexual response to a woman. His deprived hormones were going haywire, but there was no sense fighting the reaction. Might as well enjoy the moment, he thought with a mental shrug.

  “Tell me about yourself, Tony,” she coaxed, sounding as though she really cared.

  He wondered if the attentive attitude was all part of a well-orchestrated game she played with Haroldson. Her lover never made a move without a carefully thought-out plan. Did she support him in his sick games? Would she tempt him with her smile and body, then chuckle about his response in bed tonight?

  At the thought, a shaft of anger pierced Kyle, but he swiftly controlled it. Samantha’s eyes widened a little, making him wonder if she sensed his tension. Maybe she’d attribute it to sexual frustration.

  “There’s not much to tell,” he finally answered.

  “Everybody has something to tell,” she urged, subtly shifting closer to him.

  He grew even more tense as she swayed against him, held his gaze with her beautiful, beguiling eyes and pleaded for a response.

  “Everybody has likes and dislikes,” she said. “Favorite books or TV shows or movies.”

  When he failed to respond, she continued, undaunted. “I enjoy movies myself, but I’m especially fond of the theater. Have you ever seen the classic Phantom of the Opera?”

  Kyle froze. His muscles locked and his mind went blank for an instant. “Phantom of the Opera.” The code for recognizing Sullivan’s undercover operative. He’d been waiting for someone in the organization to use that phrase. A phrase no other member of Haroldson’s family or staff was likely to use.

  He stared at the perfect, pouting lips, wondering if he’d misinterpreted the message. The undercover agent’s nickname, Phantom, registered in his brain, but he couldn’t reconcile the fact that the beautiful, possibly treacherous woman in his arms was one of the FBI’s top operatives.

  Haroldson’s lover? Sullivan had said Phantom was deep in the organization, but this staggered the mind. He couldn’t imagine any agent being dedicated enough or reckless enough to sleep with the enemy. Nor could he imagine the deputy director condoning it, however badly he wanted Haroldson brought to justice.

  He had to be missing something.

  She gently nudged him into motion, and Kyle automatically took the lead again. He stared into her eyes. Were they glittering with satisfaction, or warning? Was her expression taunting him for his unprofessional reaction?

  Her husky voice interrupted his thoughts. “Am I boring you, Tony? You seem to have gone into a trance.”

  He didn’t have to be a genius to realize he’d blown his cover like a raw recruit. At least where she was concerned. Allowing himself to be caught so totally off guard could get him killed. Might still get him killed if he didn’t pull it together.

  He continued to stare at her, studying the creamy skin of her cheeks, highlighted with a hint of natural blush, the lips that glistened with lipstick as red as her gown.

  He silently cursed Sullivan for setting him up to extricate a female agent. His last partner had infiltrated Haroldson’s organization, too, but she hadn’t made it out alive. Margie—his partner, best friend and lover. The thought of her made his breath hitch. She’d given her life for the job, and he’d never forgiven himself for not being there to protect her.

  Samantha slid her hands to his chest and flexed her fingers against his shirt, her nails scoring him through the lightweight cotton and jarring him back to the present.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she whispered.

  Her touch lit a fire beneath his skin, making his blood run hotter. Kyle fought the wave of heat and racked his brain for the code Sullivan had given him to verify his own identity. He recalled the answer and recovered some control.

  “I don’t know nothin’ about no phantoms,” he declared exactly as he’d been coached. “I don’t go for that high-brow stuff.”

  Her smile widened. She batted her lashes flirtatiously even though her eyes sparkled with keen intelligence. A paradox, to be sure, but could he trust her? Kyle continued to scrutinize every feature of her face, his mind still coming to terms with all he’d heard about Phantom, all he’d learned about Haroldson’s fiancée, and what a helluva tangle the whole assignment had just become.

  According to his instructions, she was the agent in charge of the rest of the assignment. Once they’d made contact, he’d been ordered to let Phantom orchestrate the escape strategy. He waited, barely breathing, for her to make the next move.

  “I like you, Tony. I think I’ll have Gregory reassign you as my personal driver.”

  Her throaty announcement was accompanied by a seductive thrust of her hips, just as the music came to an end. But the ploy to tease him backfired. Heat simmered between them; the intimate connection sparked and crackled. Blood sizzled beneath his skin, and he knew she felt it, too.

  Her brow creased at the undeniable attraction. Annoyance shimmered briefly in her eyes before being quickly replaced by iron determination, then her more proper hostess facade.

  In any other circumstances, Kyle would have laughed out loud at the telltale crack in her armor. He wasn’t the only one who’d been caught off guard by a spark of desire. Maybe in the future she’d be more careful about teasing a man.

  “What do you think, Tony?” she prodded, her tone edged with impatience. “Want to be my personal driver?”

  “That sounds just fine, ma’am.”

  “Samantha,” she insisted. Then she slipped out of his arms and strolled off the dance floor.

  He watched her closely, appreciating the gentle sway of her hips a
s she moved across the room, and wondering if he’d just signed his own death warrant.

  One thing was for sure: this assignment would be coming to an end soon. Adrenaline pumped through his veins at the knowledge. He’d finally been offered a real challenge, to get Phantom out of harm’s way and to the FBI’s safe house. Sullivan had sworn the evidence she’d collected would be enough to nail Haroldson.

  Both prospects spurred his excitement, fueling a long-suppressed need. He could have done without the sexual jolt, but he was an expert at tamping down those flames.

  “What’d I tell ya, Tony?” Damon met him as he left the dance floor. Handing him a cold beer, he elaborated. “She’s something, ain’t she? I’ll bet that’s the first time you ever held such a classy piece of sugar in your arms. You looked a little starstruck.”

  Kyle glanced sharply at the other man. So Damon had noticed his momentary confusion. Damn. How many others had witnessed his involuntary reaction? He’d been so distracted that he’d lost objectivity. A good agent had to be observant at all times. Lives depended on it.

  Swallowing a long drag of beer, he comforted himself with the fact that he wasn’t a field operative anymore. He was a woodcrafter from a sleepy Texas town who’d been dragged back into service. Just a civvie doing a deferred duty. His pride still stung, but he figured he could live with another dent in his ego.

  “Haroldson must be crazy to turn her loose on his employees,” he finally said, wondering if the slight insult to their boss would be tolerated.

  Damon just chuckled.

  “He’s crazy, all right. If she was my woman, I’d keep her chained to the bed. Preferably in the buff.”

  Kyle felt a spurt of annoyance at the lewd suggestion, but he quickly stifled it. An explicit, erotic image followed, teasing him with a slender, shapely body all soft and naked and needy in bed. Regardless of her name or game, he wouldn’t mind getting more intimate with the body.

  For that reason, he avowed sexy Samantha/Phantom off-limits. He prided himself in learning from his mistakes, and the biggest of his life had been getting involved with a female agent. His relationship with Margie had sent up all sorts of red flags, yet he’d arrogantly ignored the warnings. Her death had been an emotional blow he never wanted to repeat.

  Foul play or fair, the lovely Phantom had prostituted herself to the scum of the earth. He believed in honor and duty, but not if it meant selling your soul to further your career. Nothing she could do or say would ever erase the facts, and that dropped her desirability to zilch.

  Samantha made her way back to Haroldson’s side on legs that weren’t as steady as she’d have liked. Her heart pounded, her breasts felt full and tight, and her skin was flushed with heat. The intensity of her arousal was unsettling. She didn’t appreciate the way her body had come alive in a stranger’s arms.

  For most of her adult life, she’d existed in sexual limbo, devoid of any burning desire beyond professional duty. She’d met and dated a few men she found attractive, but none who’d made her wild with desire. She’d never been easily aroused, and had resigned herself to the fact that she must somehow be lacking.

  The emotional and physical reserve was an advantage to her career, if not her personal life. Now, all of a sudden and at the worst possible time, she’d experienced the hots for a total stranger. It had to be the mental strain and incredible tension of the situation, she decided, shaking her head.

  She reached Gregory’s side, and he pulled her hand through the crook of his arm. His touch was cold compared to the masculine heat she’d just experienced. She repressed a shiver of revulsion.

  A head taller than her, Haroldson was trim and fit, his spine ramrod straight. He had handsome, aristocratic features with dark brown eyes. His personal hairstylist made sure the color of his hair stayed the same dark brown, so that he looked younger than his sixty years.

  His expression was affectionate and approving. She gave him a practiced smile that hid her true feelings. It wouldn’t do for him to know how much she despised him, from his polished good looks to his ugly black soul. When they’d first met, it was all she could do to keep from recoiling at his touch, but she’d hardened herself to that emotional weakness.

  The past few months had been an ongoing nightmare. The only thing that kept her sane was the knowledge that it would be over soon. Haroldson had destroyed her family, and now she had the evidence to prove it.

  She forced herself to slip back into the role of fiancée and hostess. She’d made it her life’s work to bring him to justice, but the only way to do that had been to get close, really close. It meant drawing on incredible reserves of strength, and it got more difficult each day, but she’d worked too long and hard to fail now.

  “What did you think of the new guy?” he asked.

  “He seems nice enough. A little lacking in personality, perhaps, but pleasant. Is he a good driver?”

  “Nearly as good as Damon.”

  “In that case, you should have Damon driving for you again. You’re on the road more than I am. If the new man is good, I’m sure I’ll be safe with him.”

  Gregory patted her hand. “Your wish is my command,” he insisted. “You’ll be perfectly safe with Tony. He knows that I’m fanatic about my future wife’s welfare.”

  She smiled, forcing her expression into one of warmth and gratitude. It was imperative that she keep up appearances. He thought her a well-bred, sophisticated socialite, so that’s what she’d become for the past few months.

  He’d proposed to her in an effort to garner more respect. For Gregory, image was everything. Respect was a living, breathing entity. He’d spent a lifetime accumulating wealth and power in hopes that it would buy him the respect he so badly craved.

  That’s why he’d decided to pursue a partnership with one of North Carolina’s oldest and most reputable import-export companies. He wasn’t satisfied with ruling his own small empire. He wanted to prove his respectability to the whole community.

  As a prominent banker, he was welcomed into many social circles but he wanted a foot in the door of the most elite. He’d been advised to marry someone who’d be an asset to his home and social life. That’s where she’d stepped into the scene.

  He boasted that he was a hardworking man who’d realized the American dream. The story he gave the media was one of rags to riches: a life so dedicated to work that he’d had no time for personal relationships. In reality, his wealth stemmed from a lifetime of carefully coordinated crimes. He owned several offshore banks where he laundered drug money and practiced tax evasion.

  But that wasn’t why she wanted to bring him down. He had far greater sins to answer for. One was the murder of an undercover FBI agent. Another was the slaughter of a small, law-abiding family. Hers. She had put her life on the line to bring him to justice. And when she did, maybe, just maybe, she could shed a heavy burden of guilt that never seemed to ease.

  Another glance at Gregory sent a shiver down her spine. She wondered, yet again, whether he was somehow aware of her double life.

  Chapter 2

  Three days after the party, Kyle got orders to drive Samantha to a beauty salon in Elizabeth City. He deliberately thought of her by her alias to distance himself from the woman behind the facade. Every time his fantasies drifted toward the feel of her in his arms, he quickly slammed the door on his memory.

  She preferred to travel in a Mercedes, and he had no complaints. It handled like a dream, and had plenty of power plus bulletproof windows. He hoped her escape plan didn’t include a shoot-out, but he wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.

  Rudy, one of Haroldson’s most trusted bodyguards, accompanied them. Big and muscular, he looked like a brainless bull moose, but looks were deceiving. He moved faster than a jackrabbit and was nobody’s fool. His responsibilities included escorting Samantha into the salon and waiting there while she had her hair styled. Haroldson was notoriously protective of all his possessions, especially his fiancée.

  Kyle w
aited in the car, surveying the area for any sign of other guards on Haroldson’s payroll. Security had tightened in the past few days, making him wonder if their assignment had been compromised. He sensed that Samantha would make her move soon. He expected her to enact her plan in the dark of night, not the middle of a bright summer day, but he wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

  An hour after entering the salon, she exited, looking every inch the pampered socialite. Her jeans were designer tight, accenting rounded hips and long legs. She wore red again, this time a full-sleeved blouse, unbuttoned down the front to display a white knit top that hugged soft, full breasts.

  Despite the casual wear, there were diamonds at her throat, on her wrists and fingers. The brilliant sunshine caused them to shoot sparks in every direction. The only difference he noticed in her personal appearance was a fuller hairstyle. As well as a purse that was big enough to pass for a suitcase, she also carried a shopping bag with the salon’s name on it.

  A ripple of masculine interest spread through Kyle as he watched her slow, graceful movements. He felt a punch in the gut when she smiled at her escort, but he swiftly stifled the reaction.

  Rudy followed a few steps behind her. He opened the back door of the car and held it, while she took a seat, filling the car’s interior with her unique, expensive scent. Then he closed the door, opened the front passenger door and settled in the seat beside Kyle.

  “Where to? Back to the house?” he asked, glancing at Samantha in the rearview mirror.

  “I need to go to Anderson’s Jewelers and have the safety catch on my bracelet checked. Do you know where it’s located?”

  Kyle had spent his spare time learning his way around the city. He knew every alley, intersection and parking lot, but not every business.

  “What’s the address?”

  “It’s out near the strip mall,” offered Rudy.