“Not at all. We’re late,” Kane said, cutting her off with a wave of his hand.
“You’re not the only one, trust me,” she said with a quick nod of thanks as she handed him an envelope. “Keys to your room, and the itinerary for the weekend. The rest of the guests are at the marina, having cocktails before sailing. The path is on the far side of the house.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway, her pace quickening until it was almost a trot.
“Shouldn’t I be the one talking?” Holly asked.
“I’m the assistant,” Kane countered. “You look pretty and act dumb.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” That had to be a joke. Right? She glared at him, but his deadpan delivery gave nothing away.
“Your mouth is open again. You might want to watch that,” he replied.
She cocked her head, staring. Not sure if she should be laughing or holding back from giving him a smack. “If you’re joking, you should give me a sign. Blink. Wink. Something.”
He did neither. Holly snatched the envelope out of his hands and pushed past him.
Ass.
…
Did she think he was serious? Kane watched Holly stomp up the stairs to the second floor, wondering how someone who was so amazing at reading people couldn’t see humor when it was right in front of them. Hell, he’d thought she was joking when she told him to give a sign that he was kidding.
With a sigh, he followed her, wondering what else was going to go catawampus. He was good at reading people, but something about her made assessments more difficult—sometimes impossible. But her ability to hide her true motivations also made her great at her job, he realized. Why she could do what she did with such ease.
The flex of her thighs beneath her slacks caught his attention. She was graceful as hell, he thought, watching her climb the stairs ahead of him then saunter down the hall. A mysterious combination of silk and steel that made him curious to learn more.
“It looks like this is my room,” Holly said, interrupting his thoughts. She had stopped at an oversize oak door.
Kane gave a tight nod, grateful for the interruption. Best to not think of Holly in any way erotic. It was only inviting trouble. Besides, she had her sights set on the idiot man-child due to arrive this afternoon, which told him more about her than any file.
“Where’s my key?” he asked.
She upended the envelope, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor but nothing else. He picked it up. It was their itinerary for the weekend.
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” she said, opening the door.
He followed her in. If she wanted to be difficult and surly, let her. It seemed to be how their relationship functioned.
The room was as stunning as the rest of the mansion. Decorated in varying shades of turquoise and sand-colored accents, the ambiance screamed “beach.” A queen-sized white wicker bed dominated the room, and white sheer curtains billowed as a breeze blew in from the partially opened French doors.
Next to the bed was their luggage and an unopened bottle of Cristal.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He took a seat in a small sitting area in the corner. “What do you think?”
“Like you’re making yourself comfortable in my room.”
He tapped his nose with his forefinger. “Ding. Ding. Ding,” he quipped, pointing at her even though his inner voice told him that teasing her was the wrong thing to do. She was already pissy—probably because Bravo hadn’t arrived—and seemed to have left her sense of humor in L.A.
She glared at him. “Go ask Mary Beth for a key. You’re my assistant. It isn’t appropriate for you to stay here.”
“It’s entirely appropriate,” he replied. “What would be worse would be to draw attention to myself while the staff is busy. Give it a few minutes, and I’ll go hunt her down so you can untwist your knickers.”
“How about searching the other rooms? Sounds like most of the guests are gone.”
If only he could be sure. “Tempting, but some haven’t arrived. Plus, we don’t know the staff’s routine. Let’s take a few hours and then we can make an actual plan. One that won’t get us busted.”
Her lips pressed tight.
He mirrored her expression, exaggerating it in an effort to jolly her out of her bad mood, but her mouth remained scrunched and pissed.
Dammit but she was cute when she was angry. He ducked his face to hide a grin then rose. Time to make peace.
Striding over to the champagne, he tore off the packaging and untwisted the wire that held the cork down. “I’ll pour you a drink and you can relax on the balcony. I’m your assistant. I’ll unpack.”
“Really? Or are you messing with me?”
The cork shot out of the bottle. Quickly, he poured a glass and held it out, giving her a wink at the same time. “Really.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth upward. “Okay. Thanks,” she said, taking the drink. Her fingers brushed against his, and his breath caught in his throat at her touch. For a flicker, he wished he wasn’t running the action but was in the middle of it.
Champagne in hand, she strolled out through the French doors. He could see her through the sheers, leaning against the railing. Sexy in an understated way and looking every-inch the wealthy debutante.
He tossed a suitcase onto the bed and opened it. Her clothes were folded into neat stacks. Shirts. Skirts. Panties. Even her bras. He picked one up. Lavender satin with lace edging. Of course.
What would she look like wearing it?
The visual made him catch his breath, and he dropped the tiny piece of lingerie back in the suitcase with a reminder that this was work. Only work. “I didn’t think you could be this organized,” he said, more to himself than to Holly, as he tried to refocus his thoughts on the op.
There was no reply. He went out to the balcony and saw that it extended past their room, running the length of the back of the building and wrapping around to the sides of the house, allowing all the rooms access.
Holly was nowhere in sight.
Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair as the reason he needed to stay focused became clear—she never did as she was told. Someone had to keep her on target.
That someone was him.
…
Holly walked the length of the verandah, taking a quick glance into any rooms with open curtains. Whoever designed the walkway must have had thieves in mind, she mused.
The creak of a door, subtle and almost lost in the sound of the wind through the trees, made her ears perk up. Out of habit, she pressed herself against the house. A woman giggled.
She knew that laugh. Someone was doing something they shouldn’t. Setting her champagne glass in the dirt of a potted bougainvillea, she stayed low and peeked around the corner.
Tammi Lynn. She recognized her from the picture.
Their hostess stood in one of the doorways that opened on to the balcony, kissing a man who was not her husband. His hand ran up her thigh, hiking up her dress.
She wasn’t wearing panties.
She slapped his hand and giggled again.
Holly sunk back into the shadow of the house, picking up her glass as she rose and waiting to see which way their hostess would leave. The wooden planks vibrated with movement, and Holly stepped around the corner to see them descending a set of stairs at the far end where the balcony met the front of the house.
Holly hurried toward the room they’d left. There was no time like the present to start work. If she were lucky, she’d find the necklace and could spend the rest of the weekend enjoying herself with Bravo.
She tried the knob. Unlocked. Perfect. She slipped inside.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
Holly whirled around. Kane stood in the doorway to the balcony, one hand on the doorknob and the other clenched at his side.
“My job,” she replied, flipping back the edge of a rug
to see if the Burkes had installed a safe underneath. Nothing but an expensive cherry wood floor.
He glanced around and then entered, shutting the French doors behind him. “If you’re caught here, you’ll blow our cover.”
“Then we better not get caught,” she said. “Unless you want to leave and let me get on with my work.”
“What I want is for you to stick to the plan. Let me do my job. I will find the safe. I don’t need you sneaking into random rooms and taking unnecessary risks.”
If I stuck to every plan given to me, I’d be the worst thief ever.
With all the players and political intrigue in play at the party, she’d bet dollars to donkeys that this weekend was going to require agents who could improvise—her specialty.
Even if it didn’t, a little bending of the rules wouldn’t hurt, and being an alarmist only took away from the thrill. “Your way takes too long,” she muttered, lifting the corner of a frame from the wall.
Nothing. Again.
“My way is why I’m in charge,” Kane whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Holly asked. “No one can hear us. They’re all downstairs.”
He straightened. “Oh.”
He looked guilty as sin. He wasn’t lying when he said acting wasn’t his forte. She checked another picture to see if it covered the safe.
Still nothing. She let go of the picture, and the frame hit the wall with a dull thud.
“I told you. Let me do this,” he said. “It’ll be faster and a helluva lot safer.”
She hesitated.
“The safe is probably in either the office or a master suite,” Kane continued. “And this room is neither of those things.”
“It is,” she assured him. “Our hostess just left it, and she wasn’t just checking up on the maid.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he replied.
Did she have to spell-everything out? “She was hooking up. With a guest.”
“I don’t care. You’re putting this mission in jeopardy.”
Control freak. “You don’t know that this isn’t her room. Look at it. It’s enormous.” She twirled in a slow circle, arms outstretched. “Entire families live in houses with less square footage.”
“It’s not,” Kane insisted. “The master suite is above our room, which you would know if you’d listened to me in the car.”
Her cheeks warmed at being corrected. “Well, she still came out of here, so you might be wrong,” she countered, but the argument sounded weak.
“Are you doing this to impress Bravo?” Kane asked. “To show him what an awesome thief you are?”
With a click, he locked the French door and strode across the floor to confront her on the other side of the four-poster bed. “Are you hoping that if you can get this done, you’ll get to spend the weekend having fun?”
The heat was slow this time. It began in the pit of her stomach, working its way up her chest, then neck, and settled in her face.
“He’s an ass, Holly.”
She flashed back to yesterday when Tempe said Kane was as good at reading people and intent. She’d have to remember that. She did not need Kane prying into her private thoughts. Not now. Not ever. “There’s no need to make accusations. Let’s leave.”
He opened his mouth as if to reply, then snapped it shut.
Good.
She shoved past him when voices in the hallway caught her attention, and she paused mid-step. The voices drew nearer and stopped in front of the door to the room.
Then there was the sound of metal on metal—a key in the lock.
“Crap,” Kane whispered.
Her heart beat harder. She and Kane simultaneously sprinted for the balcony door. She grabbed the handle and turned. It jammed. “Dammit.”
“Turn the bolt,” Kane said, trying to reach past her scrambling hands to do so.
The lock to the main door clicked, and they were seconds from being caught. Her mind spun, seeking a reason that they might be in a locked room that wasn’t theirs. Only one idea came to mind.
“Follow my lead,” she said as she pushed Kane onto the bed. Landing on top, she kissed him.
He stiffened, then melted into the kiss. His mouth was hot. Eager. She found herself opening her lips, letting him taste her. He wound his hands through her hair, messing her braid.
She shivered at his touch as he rolled her over until he was on top, pinning her down with his weight and his kiss.
“Excuse me?” a quiet, feminine voice asked. “Excuse me?”
Holly stopped mid-kiss. Kane looked at her in surprise, and she wondered if she sported the same startled expression.
“Excuse me,” the voice said for a third time. “I think this is my room.”
“Let me handle this,” she whispered. “I’m the better liar.”
He gave a quick nod then moved so Holly could sit up. She smoothed her hair. A young woman stood in the door. About her age. Dark hair. Doe eyes. A blue sundress and sandals.
Holly flashed a sheepish smile. Kane rose, offering her a hand as she stood.
Quite the gentleman.
“Excuse me?” Holly replied. “Are you sure? I think it’s ours.”
“Positive,” she replied. “See, here’s my luggage.”
Holly took a step back, making sure to widen her eyes. “I am so sorry. We were in the car all day and just thought—“
“No need. I understand.” The girl gazed at Kane as if he was chocolate, and she hadn’t eaten in hours.
“Thank you,” Kane said, sounding as mortified as he appeared.
Holly giggled, acting like the silly girl she’d never had the chance to be growing up.
The dark-haired girl held out her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Bowler.”
“Holly Kennedy.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and Holly giggled again. “Not those Kennedys.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth focused her attention on Kane again, appraising him and, from the gleam in her eyes, liking what she saw.
Smile plastered to her face, Holly hesitated to introduce him. She sure as hell couldn’t say he was her assistant. Not now. If she did, then all eyes would be on her this weekend, and she’d never get a chance to retrieve the necklace.
There was only one reasonable reply, and knowing she’d brought this chain of events on herself tasted as bitter as a pill.
Despite the anger, she let the smile reach her eyes. “This is my fiancé, Kane.”
Dammit.
Chapter Four
“What were you thinking?” Kane said. “You never listen, Holly. Never. Frankly, it’s getting old.”
Holly walked down the path to the marina, wishing she could steal away from her “fiancé,” but she was stuck. After they’d retreated from Elizabeth’s room to their own, they’d changed their clothes in silence, with Holly taking refuge in the spa-like bathroom. Five minutes later, she emerged wearing a pair of cream-colored linen walking shorts, periwinkle T-shirt, and white sneakers. Kane stood by the door, dressed in khaki slacks, a green and white rugby shirt, and deck shoes.
He didn’t say a word. Just opened the door and escorted her outside and to the path that led to the marina. It wasn’t until they were clear of the house that the current scolding had begun.
A scolding she deserved. As much as she hated to admit it, she should have listened to Kane—at least this time. Instead, she’d come close to botching the mission, and worse, she was now stuck with Kane as her fiancé—not that she planned to tell him that she was disappointed in the latter.
She was already in enough trouble.
Holly plucked a gardenia as they passed the glossy-leafed bush and put the fragrant petals to her nose. Under better circumstances, she’d stroll through the lush landscape and take in the scents and sights.
These were not those circumstances.
Scattering the petals on the path, she picked up the pace, trying to outrun both Kane and her embarrassment, but Kane matched her speed, and he
r embarrassment only grew with each passing moment.
“Are you going to answer me?” Kane asked. “Or do you want to ignore the problem you created?”
Ignore, please. She slowed. She wasn’t getting out of this conversation, even if she broke into a sprint. “I’m sorry. Okay?” she replied, telling herself that despite the change in plans, she’d done a good job covering for her mistake.
Liar.
He snorted in what she assumed was disgust.
Leave it to Kane to not let her off easy. Steeling herself, she raised her eyes and met his hard gaze. His gray eyes were the color of flint, as if reflecting his mood. “I was wrong,” she admitted. “I should have done as you asked and left as soon as you told me to. I didn’t listen and nearly botched the mission.”
Kane slowed mid-step and then came to a halt. His brows furrowed together, and his lips were pressed tight. Still angry, but she also saw a bit of surprise in his eyes.
He couldn’t hide his emotions, she realized. Everything showed on his face. Everything.
“Thanks for admitting it,” he replied. “And you didn’t botch the mission. There’s a change in plans, but it’s still a go.”
“That’s sweet, but notice I said nearly.”
He chuckled. “So you did.”
She glanced at him. He seemed sincere. She smiled, the knot in her stomach loosening but not disappearing. She and Kane might be fine—for now—but there was still the matter of their cover. “Now, the question is, how do we fix this?”
Voices sounded on the path behind them, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a group of four coming toward them. Kane aimed her down a side path that ended in a small sitting area bordered with jasmine, gardenia, and roses.
“We don’t fix this,” Kane replied once the others passed them and were out of earshot. “We play this as is. Bravo will be our assistant. You and I are engaged.”
“They know myself and Bravo as the couple,” she said, regretting her actions. Sure, she’d screwed up by calling Kane her fiancé, but only one person knew about it. That didn’t mean they both had to suffer for an entire weekend. He was the brains, not an actor. To have him play the part of the man she loved was going to tax them both.
Undercover With the Enemy Page 4
