Love & Deception (Agents in Love - Book 1)

by Chantel Rhondeau

  “When I tried to check your message, Stephen threw my phone in the yard.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly, so he must have given an answer that reassured her.

  “I texted you again and you still didn’t answer.” He reached his other arm across his body to clasp her hand in his. “Don’t think I’m crazy, but somehow I knew something was wrong.”

  She licked her lips in a nervous gesture. “You had a feeling about me?”

  “I felt your danger or something. I rushed to your house, but your car was gone, so I decided to call you.”

  “And found my phone?”

  “Yeah. If only I had come looking for you earlier, we might have avoided...”

  “I’m glad you came at all after the way I freaked out about Muhammad.” She placed her head on his shoulder. “You probably didn’t count on all this trouble when you asked me to dinner.”

  He kissed her forehead lightly and rested his cheek on top of her head. “You’re worth any amount of trouble.”

  She was quiet for a few seconds and Nick wondered how to prod her into telling him what was going on.

  “Do you believe in fate?” she finally asked.

  “As in, ‘everything happens for a reason’ or ‘we have no control over our destiny?’”

  He felt her shrug. “More like, there’s a perfect person out there for everyone, a soul mate.”

  “Yes. I believe that. I didn’t know I was waiting for anyone, but I told you earlier, you fit. There’s a connection between us.” And it dismayed Nick to realize he wasn’t lying about that. He liked Carlie. Liked her dancing in his arms, liked her sitting in his car, and even more, liked the way she felt wrapped in his embrace now.

  She’s a target. Keep your mind on business.

  “Wow. I don’t really know how to respond to that.” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth a few times. “Alright, if that’s truly how you feel, I’ll tell you what really happened tonight, why Stephen attacked me. There’s just one catch.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to promise not to feel obligated to help me. This is a big decision, and I won’t blame you if you decide it’s too much to handle.”

  He felt miserable being dishonest with her, and he’d never felt that way with a target. However, she was a criminal, and he had to keep up the charade to protect the greater good.

  “No matter what you say, I promise to make my own decision.” He kissed her head again. “If I decide I’ve found the person meant for me, nothing in her past will change how I feel.”

  “That’s a sweet sentiment.” Shifting slightly, she put her free hand over his heart. “I used to believe in love at first sight, too. I even thought I found the person meant for me.” She paused and let out a deep breath. “It ruined my life.”

  Chapter Nine

  Carlie let her words hang in the air for a few breaths, waiting for Nick to pull away. Instead, his fingers slid down her arm and he kissed her forehead again. It was nice. She felt safe and cherished. Although things would likely change once he learned assassins were after her, she let herself enjoy his company.

  “I was young and stupid,” she finally continued. “Ryan seemed so exciting. I hadn’t had many boyfriends, and he invited me to a party.” Even nine years later, she still felt silly for being so naïve. A sophomore in college, and she’d never attended a party. “I was working on my business management degree, and he was in my accounting class. We talked a lot, met up some evenings to study together. I thought I found the perfect guy.”

  “But you hadn’t?”

  She shrugged, provoking a flare of pain throughout her body. “Ouch. Dang. My body is not happy.”

  Nick leaned forward to dig through the basket of medical supplies. He pulled out two plastic bags, squeezed each of them in the center, and shook them vigorously. “I forgot I had ice packs. Lie against the arm of the couch.”

  Carlie did as requested, tucking Nick’s t-shirt around her legs to keep from flashing her underwear. He adjusted a throw pillow behind her head, helping her into a less painful position, and then draped an icepack across her neck. “What else hurts the most?”

  “My stomach. He kneed me there a few times.”

  He laid the icepack on her stomach and gently lifted her lower legs, sitting down and pulling her calves across his lap.

  “Is this okay?” he asked belatedly, lifting his hands off her skin. “I’m not trying to get handsy or make you uncomfortable. Especially not after what you went through tonight.”

  “No, you’re fine.” She attempted a smile and forced herself to relax. “You won’t take advantage of me. I trust you.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but set his hands back down. The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Is it a bad thing if I enjoy touching your legs?”

  His honesty relaxed her further. She shifted the ice from her neck to her cheek, appreciating the numbing coolness. “You’re allowed to enjoy. Just be glad I shaved this morning. It’s November, after all.”

  “And you usually let yourself get all hairy?”

  “Yep. Maybe not the sexy image men want, but it’s true. Why shave in the winter when you’re single?”

  He shrugged and patted her knee. “I’ve been with a French woman before. Hairy legs don’t scare me.”

  The thought of him with another woman caused a different sensation in her gut, though she knew she had no right to be jealous. Especially not after the way she acted earlier when he showed jealousy.

  “So, about Ryan?” he prompted.

  “Can’t put the story off, I suppose. Ryan was a senior and foreign and...” She sighed. “I thought he cared about me. I was so excited for the party. He kept handing me drinks. I told him I didn’t drink, but he said it was fine, not to worry. Said he’d take good care of me.” She shook her head.

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “College boys are stupid. Let me guess, you woke up in a bed the next morning with your clothes off.”

  She rolled her eyes, upset with her younger self for getting into that situation. “Not very smart of me, but yes, that’s basically what happened.” Except she remembered more than just waking up. She’d come to her senses as Ryan climbed off her, after he was finished. “He told me not to be upset. Said it was a good thing that we moved our relationship to the next level. He wasn’t so happy when he found out about the baby.”

  “You got pregnant?”

  She glanced up, unable to read his expression. “I saved myself all through my teenage years with a dumb romantic notion that I should only ever have sex with one man.”

  “That’s not dumb. It’s a good goal. Very smart, actually.”

  She raised an eyebrow, trying to decide if Nick really meant that. “Okay, maybe it is. But after holding onto that ideal for so long, I wound up pregnant, and nothing I wanted mattered after that.”

  “What do you mean? Ryan wasn’t supportive of your dreams?”

  “It wasn’t that, exactly. I didn’t understand how important Ryan was in his country, or that their ideas of premarital sex aren’t exactly as...hmmm, progressive as those of Americans.”

  “Where did Ryan come from?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve probably never heard of it. I hadn’t. A small country in Africa, close to Ghana. It’s called Maharla.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Prince Rayhan of Maharla? Who died in a car accident six years ago?”

  Carlie gripped the back of the couch and pulled herself upright, swinging her legs off Nick’s lap to the floor. “He switched to Ryan to sound more American.” Carlie narrowed her eyes. “How do you know about him?”

  “It was all over the news when it happened.” Nick made as if to touch her, but she flinched and he dropped his hand. “And why are you suddenly so jumpy?”

  Setting the icepacks onto the couch, she forced herself to look at him. “Assassins from Ryan’s country have hunted me for six years. I don’t understand why you would remember some obscure prince so long after hi
s death. Unless...”

  Nick’s mouth dropped open. “You think that I’m... Carlie, that’s ridiculous. If I wanted you dead, I would have let Stephen finish the job tonight. I care about you. I don’t want you hurt.”

  She let out a shaky breath, not realizing she’d been holding it in. “Of course. You’re right, you didn’t have to save me. I’ve been hiding for so long, I’m suspicious of everyone.”

  He shifted next to her, seeming uneasy. “I only remembered Prince Rayhan’s death because they closed the roads into the Seattle airport for a few hours to clean up the accident. I missed my flight for an important business meeting and spent the afternoon watching news reports.”

  Even though she already believed him, Carlie was happy for the explanation. Personally, she never watched the news, hating how depressing it was, but she knew some people enjoyed it. She took a calming breath. Nick didn’t mean her harm.

  He stood and walked to the mini fridge near the doorway, grabbing water. He unscrewed the cap and took a drink. When he returned to the couch, he sat further away, as though sensing her nerves. “What did any of that have to do with you? Why are assassins hunting you?”

  At least he believed her. It hadn’t dawned on her before just how far-fetched her life’s story sounded. “I’m not entirely sure why,” she admitted. “Ryan’s uncle, the current king of Maharla, forced him to marry me when he learned about the pregnancy. Because King Zerach never had children of his own, Ryan was next in line for the throne. If he wanted to keep his place as heir, he couldn’t have a bastard child somewhere that might cause problems later.” She sighed, ashamed once again for getting herself in that situation. “At the time, I didn’t know all that. I thought we were in love and Ryan was eager to be a father. In reality, the king has strict ideas about what a proper heir should do. Ryan had to toe the line if he wanted to keep his kingdom.”

  “Things soured after the marriage?”

  “It might have been okay, but seven months into the pregnancy, I lost the baby.” She fought against tears that always came when she thought about her daughter. “We had finally agreed on her name the week before. Gabriela.”

  Nick’s arms went around her, and he pulled her into his chest. She bit back a sob, struggling against emotions she’d stuffed away for nine years.

  “It’s okay to cry, Carlie.”

  She reached her arms around him, ignoring the pain provoked by movement. Crying into his shirt, she managed to hold back any sobs. Everything had been lost that day on the operating table when they did an emergency C-section. That day, she never guessed what a nightmare her life would become. She didn’t cry only for Gabriela, but for herself. Sometimes she wished she’d never met Ryan, never agreed to go to the party.

  “Something went wrong during the surgery,” she said when she’d calmed down enough to speak. “Turns out, I couldn’t get pregnant again. Scar tissue or something. It was a terrible disappointment to Ryan and his family.”

  “Because a prince has to produce an heir.”

  “Ah. I see you’re familiar with fairytales.”

  He leaned back, half reclining, and pulled her on top of him. He stroked her back, soothing her. “Not really one for fairytales, but I do know politics.”

  Carlie sighed and closed her eyes. She breathed in Nick’s cologne and wished circumstances were different. If she wasn’t living her life on the run, she could actually have a relationship with him. Start rebuilding the dreams she’d given up. For now, fighting to live and keep her sandwich shop running was hard enough.

  “When it became clear I’d never be able to have a baby, things got pretty bad. His uncle questioned whether or not Ryan could continue on as heir or if the position would be given to his little brother. Divorce wasn’t an option in King Zerach’s eyes, so Ryan was stuck with me. I tried to be a good wife, but he didn’t make that easy.” She felt guilty admitting that. She’d never told anyone the truth about her marriage. “Before we resolved things, he died.”

  “I still don’t understand why you think someone wants to kill you.”

  “Ryan’s death wasn’t an accident, Nick. His car exploded. He was murdered.”

  ***

  Nick stretched his mind, trying to remember the details of Prince Rayhan’s murder. He couldn’t believe that was what Carlie ran from, but who would make up such a story? It was too specific to be a lie. With the details coming back to him, Nick realized that also might be why she became involved with terrorists.

  “I remember the news reports.” He rubbed her back, trying to ignore the way his body responded to the feel of her against his chest. “Wasn’t there something about him receiving death threats in the mail the week before his death?”

  “Yes.” Carlie sighed heavily. “He tried to take the letters to the police in Seattle, but they didn’t help. Ryan said there wasn’t anything they could do, so his mom arranged for us to return to Maharla. We were supposed to fly out the following day. Ryan went to the airport that morning to check on the arrangements for our private plane.”

  “So it was Americans who killed him.” Nick struggled to keep his voice level. He was finally getting somewhere. “Must make you kind of hate the people in this country.”

  She braced her hand against his chest and lifted her head. Nick tried not to notice how her eyes were swelling shut and a bruise across her chin had darkened to a deep purple. “You’ve got it wrong, Nick. It wasn’t Americans who killed him.”

  “But, the letters? I thought that was the reason you were leaving, to hide from the Americans after him.”

  “No.” She flopped her head back down, as if she didn’t have the strength to support it any longer on her battered neck. Her hand rubbed against the muscles of his chest and stomach, and Nick found it hard to remember she was a terrorist. “It was his countrymen who killed him. A war broke out and rebels tried to kill the royal family.”

  “What?”

  “Ryan told me attempts had been made against all his family members. They killed his younger brother, Prince Ehud, two weeks before Ryan received the death threats. I guess it took them that long to find him.”

  It felt like someone plunged him into the deep end of the pool and he forgot how to swim. If that were true, Carlie had no reason to hate Americans—no reason to join with a terrorist organization. Paul seemed so certain she was involved, but Nick believed with his whole being that she told him the truth.

  S.A.T.O. became suspicious of her because she popped in out of nowhere, had no past they could trace, and they knew there was a terrorist cell in the area. Paul now made the connection that pointed to Muhammad as the most likely candidate for leader, but maybe Carlie wasn’t in cahoots with him. It was possible she simply donated to a charity she thought worth helping.

  “Anyway,” she continued, unaware of his inner turmoil, “Ryan’s mom flew in to take possession of his body, and I wanted to go with her to attend the funeral and visit Gabi’s grave.” Her hand stopped moving. “That’s when I found out my life would never be the same.”

  Small tremors fluttered through her body, and Nick realized she was crying again.

  “It wasn’t enough to lose my only chance at motherhood and then be trapped in a broken marriage I couldn’t fix no matter how hard I tried.” A sob broke in her throat, and she clutched the fabric of his dress shirt in her hand. “Now, I’m technically the princess of Maharla, next in line for the throne since both princes are dead and there is no one else. Well, Ryan’s mother, but she’s older than the king. No one’s happy about this turn of events—not Ryan’s people and certainly not the rebel fraction waging the war. Everyone would be happier if I were dead.”

  “You’re still princess?” Uncertainty bubbled up from Nick’s gut. Was that the real reason S.A.T.O. investigated her? It was possible the President knew who Carlie was, knew what her power could be on the political field. Nick wondered if Paul knew.

  “I don’t want to be princess,” she complained through her tears.
“Ryan’s mom gave me money so I could hide, start over. She told me never to admit who I was and to never return to Maharla. We thought that would keep me safe. I’ve changed identities so many times. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year since Ryan’s death—usually less than six months.” She sobbed again. “I don’t know how they keep finding me. Even my parents don’t know where I am anymore.”

  “That must be hard for them.” For some reason, the mention of her parents caught him off guard. He’d been trying so hard to think about Carlie as a target, he hadn’t let himself consider her family.

  “They take missions in southern Africa for various charities. Last I knew, they were handing out medicine for tuberculosis and vaccinating children against common diseases. I call them on safe phones twice a year. It’s not as good as seeing them, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Nick had a sneaking suspicion her safe phones might not be as secure as she thought. “When did you last call them?”

  “Right after I moved here, but I didn’t even tell them I moved, Nick. They can’t be turning me in.” Her breath hitched, as though this was a thought that had occurred to her before, and she didn’t want to contemplate it.

  “I’m sure you’re right, Carlie. No parent would turn their child over to be killed.” He resumed caressing her back, but this time didn’t fight the feelings of attraction stirred up by touching her. She wasn’t a terrorist. He didn’t have to hate her. “I think maybe their phones have been compromised. Every time you talk to them, the assassins are figuring out where you are, but it’s not something your parents are doing.”

  What Nick needed to find out was why the United States decided to get involved and help whoever was after Carlie. If that was what they had done, why would President Sharp care who led a small country in northeastern Africa?

  The shaking in Carlie’s body finally subsided, and she let out a long sigh. She relaxed her grip on his shirt and smoothed the wrinkles down. “I decided if the assassins found me again, I’d stand and fight. Take back control of my life. I don’t want to be ruler of their country. It may be rich and have a great agricultural system, but I don’t know anything about leading people. All I ever wanted was to run my shop.” She pushed away from him and sat up, wincing and taking a few deep breaths. “I don’t know what to do.”