Undercover Fiancee

by Rebecca Winters

  “My feelings exactly,” he agreed as if they’d never strayed into explosive territory. “Has Trina heard the tape yet?”

  Annabelle looked away. She didn’t know Rand like this. Normally he was more volatile. His mild-mannered question threw her.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Maybe we could meet her somewhere and she could listen to it.”

  “Actually, Roman wants me to keep a low profile on her case. I’m going to have to confine all contact with her to the phone.”

  Rand nodded. “It’s an excellent recording. She ought to be able to hear it clearly over the line.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Why not call her right now? If that voice doesn’t belong to Bryan, then we’ve got our work cut out for as long as it takes.”

  For as long as it takes.

  Those words struck pure fear in Annabelle’s heart. Until the case was solved, Rand wouldn’t be going anywhere. He’d made that perfectly clear. Already he seemed at home in her house and didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave.

  Worse, he was being so pleasant, she didn’t recognize him from the implacable, forbidding stranger who’d once told her she wasn’t capable of love because her death wish was all that was important to her.

  Unable to bear the excruciating pain, Annabelle had removed the engagement ring he’d recently placed on her finger and put it on the coffee table separating them.

  He’d stared at it for the longest time before ordering her out of his condo. “I wish you the joy of your career, but don’t expect me at the funeral, sweetheart.” His eyes had turned to black slits before he’d closed the door on her. As far as she was concerned, he’d just murdered her soul.

  “Annabelle?”

  Rand’s voice jerked her back from agonizing memories. She felt heat creep into her cheeks. Obviously he wasn’t in the same torment or he would never have sought out her services.

  Because he was no longer emotionally involved with her, he could afford to be amiable rather than intense. She actually found him enjoyable to work with. That’s what was worrying her.

  From the beginning, their relationship had been so out of control and fiery, she’d never even glimpsed this side of his nature. No doubt it was the side the public saw. Combined with his rare intelligence and dynamism, she could understand why he was a pivotal force in the business world.

  If he’d been like this throughout their engagement, they might have been able to reach a compromise, they might...

  Oh, dear God. What was she thinking?

  “I—I’ll call her from the kitchen phone. It’s a better connection than my cellular.” With trembling hands she picked up the recorder and started for the other room, aware of Rand in close pursuit.

  After placing it on the counter, she opened the phone directory. School was almost out for the day. That might be the best place to reach Trina.

  She picked up the receiver and punched in the number. After a few seconds she heard, “Roosevelt High School, student speaking.”

  “Hello. This is Mrs. Smith from the PTA Reflections contest returning Trina Martin’s call. She needed information to give the poetry club about next year’s theme. Would you please get her out of class and ask her to come to the phone?”

  “Sure. Just a minute while I see what room she’s in.”

  “Thank you. I’ll wait.”

  Rand’s eyes gleamed. “Mrs. Smith,” he murmured wickedly, “care for an apple?” He’d helped himself to one from the refrigerator.

  She shook her head negatively and turned her back on him. Since their breakup, she would never have conceived of the day when Rand would be in her kitchen, rooting around in her refrigerator, distracting her until she could barely think.

  “Hello? Mrs. Smith?” came the tentative greeting.

  “Hi, Trina. It’s Ms. Forrester. Don’t let on who I am, okay?”

  “Oh! Okay.”

  “I have a tape recording I’m going to play for you. Tell me if you recognize the voice.”

  “Okay.”

  Annabelle placed the receiver next to the recorder and turned on the machine. Somehow Rand had changed positions and now his encompassing gaze had trapped hers while she let Trina listen to the conversation. Annabelle’s heart pounded outrageously.

  Finally she looked away, turned off the recorder and put the phone back to her ear.

  “What do you think, Trina?”

  “That was Bryan,” the girl whispered. “I’d know his voice anywhere.”

  “You’re positive?”

  She felt Rand’s hand give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He shouldn’t have done that. It sent sensation after sensation chasing through her body.

  “Yes,” the teen answered. “How did you get him to talk to you? Where did that dog come from? He doesn’t own one.”

  Annabelle filed that information away, then twisted around out of Rand’s reach. “I’ll explain everything the next time I call you. Hang in there. If by any chance you should hear from Bryan, leave a message at the agency and I’ll get it.”

  “Okay. You’re the greatest.”

  “We’ll see,” Annabelle mumbled because Rand had made her too flustered to carry on a normal conversation. “Better get back to class before someone becomes suspicious.”

  “Okay. Talk to you soon.”

  As soon as Annabelle had hung up the receiver, she headed for the dining room, needing to get out of the kitchen and put space between her and Rand. She grabbed hold of the first chair for support.

  “It seems Trina was right. Bryan is purposely trying to get in trouble as a way to hurt his father’s political career. It appears he and the person helping him are doing a good job of it.

  “Once exposed for their crimes, the media will swarm all over the story, garnering the family negative press. Needless to say, when you prosecute Bryan and his accomplice, public opinion will ensure that his father isn’t elected.”

  Rand stood a few feet away from her, making it difficult for her to breathe.

  “Possibly.” He cocked his dark, attractive head. “Why do I get the feeling that idea doesn’t sit well with you?”

  “Because Bryan strikes me as a mixed up teenager who’s mad at his parents the same way a lot of kids that age are mad at their parents. Unfortunately, his knowledge of computers and electronics makes him more of a menace than the usual rich kid who abuses alcohol and drugs, or runs away with a girl his family wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Or he has a criminal mind,” Rand conjectured.

  Annabelle sighed ruefully. “I suppose that’s possible, but Trina doesn’t think so. She really cares about him and hopes to stop him before he does something really stupid.”

  “I’m afraid he already has.” Rand folded his arms, drawing her attention to his incredible male physique. “I’ve probably lost a couple of dozen customers already. The longer he’s out there on the loose, the more difficult it will be for my company to maintain its credibility in the Salt Lake region.”

  “You’re right. Whether it’s a teenage prank which has escalated out of control, or the beginning of a true crime spree, there’s no doubt we need to act fast to find him.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  His enviable calm was unnerving. She smoothed an errant curl off her forehead, but it just flipped back again. “After reviewing all the facts, I’ve decided to go undercover as a Dunbarton technician for the first phase of the investigation.”

  At this juncture she expected Rand to give her an argument. The old Rand would have listed several compelling reasons why someone else should take over this part of the case. But he didn’t say a word.

  “A—a lot of talk circulates when a bunch of employees are closeted together. Once I’m a part of that inner circle, I can infiltrate and try to glean information on the person who gave him the password. It would help if I had a list of all Dunbarton employees who are now working or who have ever been let go or fired by your managers
since the Salt Lake store was opened.”

  “It’s in my briefcase at the hotel. I’ll get it for you,” he interjected smoothly. “In fact, while you’re occupied at the service center, I’ll put a tracer on the phone and start calling in on the support line to draw Bryan out.”

  “That might be difficult to do from the hotel.”

  Something glimmered in the deepest blue recesses of his eyes. “Since you’re all set up with the necessary equipment here, why don’t I use your house as a basis of operation for the next week or so.”

  What? If she hadn’t been gripping the chair, she would have fallen down.

  “It’s a temporary solution that should work to help you keep up your cover, Annabelle. You’re going to be working at my office in disguise anyway, so you might as well use my hotel room when you’re off duty to keep the pretense alive.

  “That way we can both maintain our privacy and no one will have the faintest notion of our whereabouts. When we’re not sleeping, we’ll stay in close touch on our cellular phones.”

  His idea was brilliant. She would give him that.

  Just when she was screaming for breathing space, he’d come up with a plan she could live with. Any more physical togetherness and she would lose all perspective.

  As for Rand, it only went to prove that he looked at her as a PI who’d been hired to do a job, nothing more. She should be relieved that the situation was progressing without undo complications. Hopefully they would catch Bryan right away. Then Rand would disappear from her life for good.

  She lifted her head. “I think you’ve come up with a very practical idea.”

  “Good. I’m glad you agree. Why don’t I leave for the hotel right now and gather a few things to bring back here tonight. I’ll ask the desk for an extra room key.”

  She nodded. “That will give me enough time to drive over to the service center and get hired before I come back and pack some essentials.”

  A half smile broke out on his arresting face. It was a look she hadn’t seen for a long time. She couldn’t stop her heart from turning over. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you go to work on my manager. Howard won’t know what hit him.”

  It was hard to swallow. “Let’s hope not.” Unable to stand his proximity any longer, she hurried to the kitchen again and found a spare key in her junk drawer.

  “Here.” She took care to drop it in his hand so their fingers wouldn’t touch. He made a fist around it. Anxious to be alone with her thoughts, she opened the door for him. “The key fits this lock.”

  His head reared back. “Do I dare leave?” he quipped.

  Struggling to keep a poker face she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The hell you don’t.”

  “Goodbye, Rand. See you later.”

  She shut the door after him and waited for the siren to go off when he reached the bottom step. To her shock, it never sounded.

  The beast. He’d outsmarted her by jumping over the railing onto the grass.

  She ran to the living room and stood behind the curtain at the front window. Finding a crack, she held up a pair of high-powered binoculars Roman had given her for a birthday present and watched Rand drive away on his motorcycle.

  He was laughing!

  Conversely she felt like sobbing, but she didn’t have the luxury. It would take her a few minutes to get into her disguise before she left for the Dunbarton service center. Assuming Howard didn’t go home before four-thirty, she would have an hour to fill out a job application and manipulate him to hire her on the spot.

  Forty-five minutes later Annabelle reached the parking lot outside Dunbarton’s and immediately proceeded to phone Gerard on her cellular.

  He sounded pleased to hear from her, but she told him this had nothing to do with going out to dinner. Instead, she explained what was going on with her case and informed him she needed his help. After he agreed to cooperate, she didn’t prolong the goodbyes. As soon as she turned off the phone, she hurried inside the building.

  The interview with Howard went even better than she’d anticipated. After dropping him a juicy piece of industry gossip, she passed the technician’s test with zero errors. Gerard pulled through like she knew he would because he was a wonderful man.

  After the glowing report he gave Howard about her past work record, Howard fell all over himself welcoming her to the team. He not only showed her where she’d be working, he told her she could report that night and work the ten to six shift if she wanted to.

  Annabelle informed him she needed the money and would be there on the dot.

  When she pulled her Jeep in the driveway, she was feeling so pleased with herself she forgot to press the remote. The alarm went off as she started up the stairs, bringing Rand to the door.

  He was back already? There’d been no sign of his motorcycle. His white smile did amazing things to her insides. So did the delicious odor of steak and pan-fried potatoes with onions wafting past her nostrils. She’d hadn’t smelled anything as good in a long time.

  “I’m going to assume that you were so happy to see me, you didn’t realize that I would reset your gizmo. Sorry if it startled you.”

  He wasn’t sorry at all, but she purposely let that comment pass as she swept into the kitchen and promptly removed her ash-blond wig and glasses.

  “I have to admit I’m glad you’ve been here slaving over my hot stove, but the good news is, I start work tonight. It may be that by morning, I’ll have learned something that will lead us to Bryan’s accomplice. How did you get here?”

  “In a rental car. It’s parked across the street.”

  She hadn’t even thought to look. “Look, Rand—I’m quite aware that you are taking precious time away from your work at headquarters in Phoenix. Because of that, I’ve made a vow to get this case solved in record time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll change my clothes. When I come back, I’ll set the table.”

  “It’s already set.”

  She wished he wouldn’t stare at her mouth like that when he talked to her. Avoiding his gaze, she plunged her hand in the deep pocket of her navy blazer and pulled a mini tape recorder from her pocket. “Here.” She placed it on the counter. “I recorded everything Howard and I said to each other. This ought to amuse you while I’m changing.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  RAND followed her retreating back with his eyes. She looked extremely beautiful, but so different in the no-nonsense business suit that camouflaged her curves, he wouldn’t have recognized her except for her auburn hair. With that blond wig and steel-rimmed glasses, her disguise had him completely fooled.

  Burning with curiosity over her interview with Howard, he turned on the recorder. Howard’s voice blared.

  “Thanks for coming, Mrs. Black, but we’re not hiring technicians at the moment.”

  “Your secretary told me, but I still wanted you to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “A couple of samples of memory chips. This one is the new memory chip made by CyberMedia where I just turned in my resignation. They’ve been installing these in their computers for the last couple of months to lower the base price of their new P.C.’s so they can wipe out all the competition, mainly from Dunbarton’s.

  “Now—if you’ll look closely at this other memory chip, you’ll see this is a Dunbarton chip. Check them both out and tell me what you see.”

  “I don’t know. They look the same to me.”

  Rand frowned. Howard sounded like an idiot.

  “That’s because Cyber’s chips are made with inferior wire which is coated to look like copper, but breaks down easily. Dunbarton uses real copper which is more expensive to begin with, but almost never breaks down. I wrote a paper on the advisability of using copper wiring over other metals in the chips before I graduated in computer engineering.”

  “You’re a computer engineer?”

  “I put it on my application but I realize you haven’t had a reason to read it yet. One day I’ll open
my own company. Right now I’m getting experience in the workplace where I can conduct my own personal research and put my theories into practice. Go ahead, scrape both of them with a coin. See what happens.”

  Rand heard a scratching noise.

  “You’re right, Mrs. Black. The coating sluffs off on this one!”

  Howard sounded like he’d just invented the wheel. At this point Rand was as spellbound as his manager by Annabelle’s persuasive arguments.

  “A Dunbarton computer may cost two hundred dollars more, but the maintenance problems are minor compared to the astronomical nightmares on a Cyber. They can’t keep enough technicians on hand to answer all the complaints.

  “If you quote me on this I’ll deny it. But—their trainers are disgruntled technicians they picked up when Info-Tech folded. Mark my words, within six months Cyber will be losing money and laying off employees.

  “By the way, I’ve got half a dozen other faulty parts I’d love to show you sometime, not only from Cyber but Space Tel, Tronimania, and Electronic Gadgets, Etc. So far, all my research points to Dunbarton being the one company with the least amount of problems.

  “Of course I couldn’t in good conscience tell Cyber’s customers to sell their computers and go purchase a Dunbarton, but I have urged them to buy Dunbarton components.

  “You can keep both chips if you like and send them to Mr. Dunbarton himself in Phoenix. It ought to make his day that his company has wiped out another competitor. Thanks for listening. I’ll let myself out.”

  “Wait just a minute, Mrs. Black. I’d like to talk further with you, but first I want to take another look at your application. Eileen?”

  Rand listened to a little more of their exchange. He laughed until his sides hurt. Finally he shut off the tape recorder.

  “Shame on you, Mr. Dunbarton, for finding CyberMedia’s demise so amusing,” a familiar female voice reverberated in the minuscule kitchen.

  She’d come in through the dining room dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and top. He rested his hip against the counter, content to take in her womanly attributes, especially her hair. The curls looked tousled, like she hadn’t stopped to brush them. She looked good. Too good.