by Mia Downing
Jake looked at Charlotte, his hand rubbing his chin in contemplation. “Is this okay with you, Lady Frosty?”
“Whatever you think.” Her voice rang soft, compliant, unlike Lady Frosty. She removed her hat, and deep red hair tumbled down, just past her shoulders. Aaron itched to run his hand through the glossy strands. “I owe you. I trust you.”
“I don’t know what Chase was thinking, sending you here.” Jake frowned, and shot her a protective glance. “But this doesn’t have to set off the endgame.”
“Like I said, whatever you think, love. I trust you and Chase to do what’s best for me.” Her tone sounded almost…submissive and definitely in direct contrast to her icy persona.
“I’ll discuss this with him in the morning, but for right now, we’ll run with the plan as ordered.” Jake turned to Aaron. “Aaron James, meet Amanda Galen. Your new girlfriend for the next week.”
“Amanda Galen?”
She shrugged, and a faint smile touched her lips. “’Tis a tangled web of deception I weave.” Her voice turned all-American with no hint of accent.
Aaron blinked, pissed. They were better actors than he was. But he smiled as he assessed Charlotte again, those long legs of hers and the sexy violet eyes.
This would be a new role for him since he’d never had a girlfriend. He liked learning new roles. Maybe his life didn’t suck quite so much, now that he had a pretend girlfriend with tangled webs of deception waiting to be unraveled. If she’d let him. This was definitely a lie he could live with.
But he wasn’t going to make this easy on any of them. He was an Anderson, after all. And Andersons didn’t do easy. “Fine. I’ll play your game.”
Chapter Two
Charlotte curled up on the couch in the living room later that evening, feigning sleep. If Jake were closer, he’d know she was faking it. He had a sixth sense about stuff like that.
She peeked around the arm of the sofa. Jake and Aaron played cards, looking like bookends at the kitchen table as they sipped drinks. There was no way either would know she was eavesdropping, and her hearing was above excellent. A definite asset for a spy.
Charlotte peered at Aaron again as he sipped from the long-necked bottle, a faint smile on his fine lips as he listened to one of Jake’s stories. His hair was still shoulder-length, and though he’d had a bit of a scruff for the filming most days, today he must have shaved. He looked good either way, and it made her uneasy.
She hated that he made things inside her stir, even now. Evil feelings that had awakened at that damned wedding and plagued her dreams as well as her waking moments. Feelings that had made her straddle his lap and kiss him despite everything.
She was losing it, becoming no better than one of his starry-eyed groupies. Aaron James, sex god of the teen world was her charge until Chase told her differently. Her fake boyfriend, and she didn’t even want a real boyfriend. Stuff Aaron’s damned movies couldn’t make up.
When Charlotte envisioned her endgame five years ago, she had never pictured this, her wanting and needy. She’d been angry then, no feelings, hating everyone. Chase had bribed his boss to take her on. They had sent her to Jake’s childhood home in Texas for a few weeks to fatten her up, heal her mentally, and then the training began. Hardcore, ass-kicking, want-to-die training that channeled her anger into that freight train aimed at someone else. Sometimes the anger surfaced, but usually, she kept it under control.
She was trained as an assassin, her code name Dragon Queen, though Jake called her Ginger. She was feared in the underworld of thieves, drug lords, and other evil. Cold, hard, and mean, that’s how Jake described her now. She was a killing machine, not a suicidal, submissive pet.
During that time, things changed. Chase was promoted to boss and lorded over their missions. She had become Jake’s partner, and through long hours and much patience on Jake’s part, she learned to trust him. Now she loved them both, would steal, lie, and kill for them both. Chase was still her favorite, but being boss made him grumpy and less open to letting her get on with business—killing motherfuckers.
In August, she’d been assigned to follow Celia around on location in Wales. That meant she also observed Aaron from afar, disguised as a gofer girl with glasses, ginger hair instead of her deep red, and different contacts. The disguise had been fool-proof.
Then Jake had to go get married in October—and invite Aaron to the fucking wedding. She’d managed to avoid Aaron for two months until Jake had made her dance with him. She’d never forget his arms around her as they swayed to the music, how parts long dead had woken up and reminded her she was female. Then, in a stupid move, she allowed him to kiss her, wanting nothing more than to taste his lips, press her needy body against his. Her, hungry for a man?
She’d dismissed the kiss as a fluke. Jake and Chase were moving on with their lives and that left her unsettled. Letting a handsome man kiss her was understandable. The day after the wedding, she’d been sent back to the movie set to her original duties, only this time, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Aaron. Without warning, the fluke had become a reality.
Aaron James made her feel like a woman, not a killing machine. That was bad, so bad. Yet, when she’d walked into the house earlier to him trussed up, she knew she had to kiss him. She had to see if he’d really penetrated the heavy armor she’d layered in place over the years.
That kiss proved he had gotten around her defenses, oozing through to the woman hidden beneath. Aaron made her knees weak, made parts of her that had been dead sing with need. Desire and lust rode strong, heady surges of pleasure. She wanted to be held, touched, kissed, and yes, even fucked senseless. Scary, scary feelings. Killing machines who planned on dying at some point did not indulge in love or sex. Period.
She should call Chase and get on a plane. He would understand.
“So what does Gingy owe you?” Aaron asked Jake.
“None of your business.”
“Does Tia know she owes you?”
“I can see nothing’s changed. You’re still a nosy son of a bitch.”
“You’re my big brother. When pretty English girls say they owe you, it makes me protective.” Aaron faked the innocence in his voice very well.
Jake laughed heartily. As if six foot, one hundred eighty pounds of sheer muscle and deadly skill needed protecting. “I have nothing to be afraid of. You—you do. She was hatched by dragons across the pond. So you watch that mouth of yours or she’ll clean your clock. You do not have an extended warranty plan.”
A chair scraped. The fridge opened, closed, and Aaron opened another beer, the bottle cap clanking on the table. He sat down, chair creaking, and said, “You’re really an agent.”
“Yes.”
Aaron groaned. “Why the fuck couldn’t you have told me before I finished that damned movie? You could have trained me.”
“I’m sure you were great on your own. Being a spy isn’t like the movies. It’s boring.”
“Boring?”
“Yeah. I sit and wait, watch people and gain information. I’ve had more exciting times in a doctor’s office waiting room.”
Charlotte nodded in agreement. It was true, most of the time. And then there were the times they jumped from planes, snuck into heavily armed places loaded to the gills with bad guys, and took care of the riff raff. Jake never liked to brag, though.
“So how did she become dragon mean if all she does is sit around and watch people?” Aaron asked.
Jake sighed. He did that a lot when discussing her, just like Chase did. “She’s not patient, and she has anger management issues. So just watch it with her, okay? I have brotherly ties to keep me from killing you. She only has the threat of paperwork to keep from killing you. And sometimes, she likes paperwork. She says it’s relaxing.”
“You’re joking, right?”
No, Jake wasn’t. She did like the paperwork, though she liked to think the anger was well-managed at this point.
Jake sighed, again. “Shut up and ante up.”<
br />
Aaron anted up.
She’d met all of Jake’s brothers except Aaron over the years before the wedding, and he was definitely different than any Anderson she’d met. Not in looks—they were all hotter than an August afternoon in Texas. They were all smart, sexy, easy to like.
Though she was having a hard time liking Aaron at this point. He fired up the anger and invoked satisfying visions of her hands around his thick neck. How he could make her horny and want to kill him at the same time, she had no clue. If Jake knew, he’d be taking bets on what she did first—fuck him or kill him. She was going for a quick, bloodless death.
“I want you to go to Texas. You’ll be safe at home,” Jake said to Aaron as he sat down again at the table, his chair scraping the floor as he pulled it in.
“When? Why? I told you, I can’t. I have a talk show next Wednesday morning, I have a film premiere that evening, and then I have to fly to Manhattan for the premiere there next Friday.”
“You can’t be visible. The ranch is safer.”
“I’m not going home, period. If you’d get your ass out of my kitchen and out on the street, I’d be that much safer, that much faster.”
“My orders were to secure you and let Charlotte rest. She just came off a job. We’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
That meant Jake had a hunch who was behind this, though he hadn’t said much to her yet.
“Won’t the trail go dead or whatever?” Aaron asked.
Jake snorted. “Doubtful. We are your punishment for chasing married women, and for your safety, you need to go home to Texas.”
“Ain’t happening.”
“Aaron—”
“No, and that’s that. If you want to keep me alive so badly, you let me go about my business, and I’ll let you do your job. Deal?”
Jake grunted, unimpressed. “You want an award for this performance? Because you’ve got whiny bitch down to a tee.”
“Fuck you.”
She could feel the tension between them way over here. Jake was stubborn as hell, but she sensed Aaron was even more so.
“Momma’s not mad anymore, Aaron. She misses you,” Jake said softly. “You can go home. Be safe.”
“You do your job. I’ll do mine.”
Jake sighed. “Fine.”
Charlotte blew out a breath she didn’t realize she had held, trying to release the tension. Damn, Aaron. Why couldn’t he make her life easier and just go home? An agent never wanted to be in the spotlight, never mind one with her past. Her surgeries were flawless, and no one from her past would recognize her unless they knew the tattoo on her wrist—she hid it under chunky jewelry or makeup. But still, the idea of being on Aaron’s arm, all week, made her a little nervous.
“Whatever,” Aaron was saying to Jake. “But I’m not going to Texas.”
They played the hand—Jake won. If they were playing with Jake’s deck, he would win every hand, because the cards were marked. Aaron must have shoved chips his direction and a pile fell over, pinging on the table.
“You going to tell me why you slept with Celia?” Jake asked a bit later as he shuffled the cards again.
“Why do you sleep with women, Jake? I am an Anderson. Fucking is hardwired into my genetics. It was just a matter of time.”
“I don’t sleep with married women unless I have permission from the husband.”
“Seriously? Wait, I don’t want to know about that kinky shit.” Aaron set down his bottle firmly. “And don’t judge me.”
Jake sighed. “I’m not judging you. I’ve committed more sins than you’ve dreamed of. But this isn’t like you. Sleeping with a married woman has got to be killing you.”
“Maybe you and Paul are rubbing off on me.”
“I doubt it.” Jake tapped his cards on the table. “Why, Aaron?”
“I didn’t know she was married.” His voice was low, resigned. “She uses her SAG name, just like I use mine. I’d spent the whole damned movie kissing her and pretending to make love to her, so when filming wrapped and she snapped her fingers, I jumped.”
“You gotta look before you leap, boy. Didn’t I teach you anything?” Jake asked through clenched teeth.
“Fuck.” A beer bottle cap skittered across the table.
“What number was she?”
“I don’t ask you about numbers. Jesus. If Tia knew—”
Jake laughed. “She knows. Believe me; she likes the experience I bring to her bed.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“No, it’s not.” Jake sipped, the ice cubes rattling in his whiskey and coke. “But you’ve got issues, and I think the whole sex thing is a part of why you’re angry. So I’m askin’.”
There was a long, long pause that made Charlotte strain to hear.
“Two,” Aaron said so softly Charlotte almost missed it.
“Jesus. Aaron. No wonder you’re angry.”
Her reaction exactly. What man at thirty-one had only slept with two women? And one of them recently? Sure, she knew his past. He had been on track to become a priest, had spent a year or two in Haiti doing ministry work, and then left the seminary for some reason.
But wouldn’t he run screaming from the forced celibacy and fuck everything in sight? He was an Anderson, after all.
A small voice reminded her that she was twenty-eight and had less experience than he did.
“Don’t start,” Aaron warned. “I’m not like you—yet. It may take me a bit to work up to fucking every woman in sight like you did after your fiancé died.”
Jake’s breath hissed out. “Low blow.”
A tense silence descended for a long moment. “Sorry.” Aaron groaned. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
Charlotte’s heart ached for Jake as he sighed sadly. “It’s the truth, unfortunately. I can’t change the past.”
“I’m sorry.” There was another long pause. Cards shuffled, chips clinked. A chair creaked.
“So, Aaron, what am I going to do with you? You weren’t much trouble as a kid, but you’re sure as hell dishing it out now. You don’t want to go to Texas, you’re being nasty. Hell, I find out you kissed Char at my wedding, on top of screwing Celia. Capital T, trouble.”
“It’s not just me, you know. She kissed me, too,” Aaron murmured. Again, so soft, she almost missed it, but her ears flamed hot.
Fabric rustled—Jake must have glanced over at her. “She did? Her.” The surprise in his voice would have been comical if she had come with less emotional baggage and less of a career path.
“Yeah,” Aaron said. “She was laughing because I was trussed up like a Christmas goose and how she loves Christmas, and when she took off the hood, she… I don’t know. It was intense electricity all over again. I didn’t know that sort of shit existed.”
“She kissed you? Charlotte?”
“Don’t make it sound like such a chore.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. You are an Anderson.” Jake sounded so smug she wished she could hit him. She hated that smug tone.
The bottle cap clinked again, spinning. “Does she do that?” Aaron asked. “Kiss the men she’s releasing from captivity?”
“No. That’s not like her. She probably wanted to yank your chain. That’s her—she’s a ball buster and a trash talker. But kissing you…no.”
“It was good, though.” Aaron sounded wistful as poker chips clinked. “Kissing her made me forget just how much my life sucks.”
“Your life doesn’t suck. You’re Aaron James. You have a film releasing Wednesday and another in the wings.” Jake set down his glass way too hard, and the ice tinkled against the sides of the glass.
“Yep, and I should be grateful for all of that, but I’m not. It’s what my life is, but it’s not what I want. My life sucks.”
“What do you want, then?”
“Her, for starters. She’s haunted me since the wedding, and now here she is, in my house. I just…” He gulped. “I fucked Celia because I couldn’t get her out of my mind. That’s crazy, be
cause I only danced with her once. I kissed her once, but I want more.”
Charlotte blinked, stunned.
“Jesus, no.” Jake sucked in a breath. “Oh, hell, no. Don’t pursue this.”
“Hell, yeah.”
Charlotte fought to breathe. Aaron wanted her. She knew that—she’d felt how aroused he’d been when she kissed him. But the words uttered from those fine lips made her feel giddy. Girly. Nothing cold, hard, and mean at all. Not good. So not good. She needed to be on a plane. Now, before it was too late.
“Chase is going to have a cow,” Jake muttered. “She has way more baggage than you do. Tons more. And as much as I had hoped you’d make a connection at my wedding…no. This can’t happen. Not now.”
“You realize asking me to leave her alone makes the whole thing more tempting, don’t you? Don’t fuck with me,” Aaron said so softly, almost dangerous in tone. It made her want him even more.
“Can’t take the Anderson out of the man.” Jake sighed. “Do you love me, Aaron?”
“Not as much as I love Paul.”
“No one loves anyone as much as they love Paul,” Jake said. Paul was the wildest brother, all laughs and untamed testosterone. Aaron’s twin. “But I’m serious. Do you?”
Poker chips clinked again. “Yeah.” He sounded reluctant.
“She’s off limits, unless she decides differently. If you love me, you’ll do this for me.”
Aaron sighed, long and conflicted. “Okay.”
****
Aaron prided himself in being smarter than he was hot. History had proved that smart got him a lot more in life. Being the youngest of four strapping, hotter Andersons meant everyone at home was immune to the Anderson charm. Teachers, babysitters, store clerks, family friends, any female under fifty—been there, experienced it. He didn’t get away with shit at home when he flashed the charm, oozed the sex appeal.
Then he’d gone on to a more pure life in the seminary. God didn’t care how hot or smart you were. God cared that you were obedient and pure of mind. He was neither, and God didn’t want him.
Being hot had landed him tons of work in L.A., which only served to remind him he was an excellent liar, and that pissed him off. But eventually it all circled back to the intelligence factor. Smart guys got juicy roles while stupid, pretty boys were relegated to ads in the back of glossy magazines.
