Sure Bet

by Maggie Price

  * * *

  Sure Bet

  Maggie Price

  * * *

  Published by Silhouette Books

  America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance

  For opposites who attract

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  CONFIDENTIAL MEMO

  Badge No. 1314— Morgan McCall

  Rank: Rookie Officer

  Skill/Expertise: Thorough and meticulous. First in recruit class (outstanding achievement in academics, firing range, self-defense).

  Reason Chosen for Assignment: Her tall, leggy blond looks are likely to appeal to the target of this undercover operation—and her fellow officer. Will she be able to stay focused under his heated, intense gaze?

  Badge No. 0539— Alexander Blade

  Rank: Sergeant

  Skill/Expertise: Chameleonlike ability to change appearance and personality in order to convincingly assume any covert identity.

  Reason Chosen for Assignment: Razor-sharp instincts make him a natural for this risky operation. But it might be more difficult for him to resist the beauty of his passionate partner.

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  Dear Reader,

  The year may be coming to a close, but the excitement never flags here at Silhouette Intimate Moments. We've got four—yes, four—fabulous miniseries for you this month, starting with Carla Cassidy's CHEROKEE CORNERS and Trace Evidence, featuring a hero who's a crime scene investigator and now has to investigate the secrets of his own heart. Kathleen Creighton continues STARRS OF THE WEST with The Top Gun's Return. Tristan Bauer had been declared dead, but now he was back—and very much alive, as he walked back into true love Jessie Bauer's life. Maggie Price begins LINE OF DUTY with Sure Bet and a sham marriage between two undercover officers that suddenly starts feeling extremely real. And don't miss Nowhere To Hide, the first in Rae Anne Thayne's trilogy THE SEARCHERS. An on-the-run single mom finds love with the FBI agent next door, but there are still secrets to uncover at book's end.

  We've also got two terrific stand-alone titles, starting with Laurey Bright's Dangerous Waters. Treasure hunting and a shared legacy provide the catalyst for the attraction of two opposites in an irresistible South Pacific setting. Finally, Jill Limber reveals Secrets of an Old Flame in a sexy, suspenseful reunion romance.

  Enjoy—and look for more excitement next year, right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  Yours.

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Executive Editor

  Books by Maggie Price

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  Prime Suspect #816

  The

  Man She Almost Married #838

  Most Wanted #948

  On Dangerous Ground #989

  Dangerous Liaisons #1043

  Special Report #1045

  "Midnight Seduction"

  Moment of Truth #1143

  *Sure Bet #1263

  MAGGIE PRICE

  turned to crime at the age of twenty-two. That's when she went to work at the Oklahoma City Police Department. As a civilian crime analyst, she evaluated suspects' methods of operation during the commission of robberies and sex crimes, and developed profiles on those suspects. During her tenure at OCPD, Maggie stood in lineups, snagged special assignments to homicide task forces, established procedures for evidence submittal, and even posed as the wife of an undercover officer in the investigation of a fortune teller.

  While at OCPD, Maggie stored up enough tales of intrigue, murder and mayhem to keep her at the keyboard for years. The first of those tales won the Romance Writers of America's Golden Heart Award for Romantic Suspense.

  Maggie invites her readers to contact her at 5208 W. Reno, Suite 350, Oklahoma City, OK 73127-6317. Or on the Web at http://members.aol.com/magprice.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 1

  "Anytime you want to move your tennis shoe off my windpipe is good for me."

  Keeping her foot in place, Morgan McCall gazed down at her fellow police recruit, whom she'd tossed onto his back on the padded gym mat. "I wouldn't have my tennis shoe on your windpipe if you'd quit acting like I'll break if you fight back."

  "I fight back, you'll start using those karate moves of yours," Lonny O'Brien pointed out. "Then where will I be?"

  Morgan's mouth curved as she stabbed a loose pin back into her disheveled blond topknot. "On your butt, with my foot on your windpipe."

  "Case closed."

  Around them the echo of voices—and occasional grunts and groans—filled the Oklahoma City Police Department's gym as the members of their recruit class practiced self-defense moves. Rubber-soled shoes squeaked against the shiny wood floor. From somewhere in the distance, the staccato dribble of a basketball echoed off the high ceiling.

  With sweat gleaming on his flushed, freckled face, O'Brien speared a look toward the gym's bleachers. "You too busy mashing my windpipe to notice your stalker's made another appearance?"

  Morgan's smile melted. "I noticed."

  She hadn't needed to catch a glimpse of him to know he'd shown up. Again. The tall man with dark, shaggy hair tied back from his unshaven face had first appeared at the academy a week ago. She'd spotted him shaking hands with the major in charge of training, so there was no doubt he had authorization to be there. Later, the man strode into class alongside her criminal investigations instructor and slid into the seat behind hers. She hadn't had to see his face to know his gaze stayed on her the entire hour. She'd felt it, as physical as a touch. The instant the instructor dismissed class, she swiveled and looked directly into brown eyes as hard and sharp as stone.

  She'd found herself fighting not to jolt at the sudden and unexpected punch of power. Sheer willpower had kept her from blinking or shifting her gaze from the sharp-planed face that gave nothing away. For humming seconds they'd stared at each other while something undefinable sizzled in the air.

  "Who are…" Her words had faded away when he stood, turned his back and walked away. She'd remained in her chair, her heart hammering while she watched him stride out the door.

  He had shown up at the pistol range the next day, his interest intensifying when she stepped to the target and aimed her Glock. Two nights ago he'd lingered in the humid June shadows and observed her participate in arrest reenactment exercises. She had lost count of how many times he'd settled on the gym's bleachers and studied her self-defense moves.

  With his measuring gaze consistently directed at her, the other recruits had dubbed him "McCall's stalker." Morgan had kept to herself the fact that each time he appeared, an electric current zipped through her veins.

  It was a familiar sensation. That same frisson of awareness that brought all of her nerve endings to full alert had stirred her senses only once before in her life. Then, it had left her with a broken heart and physical scars.

  The man who now seemed to size her up with a hunter's focused interest possessed a similar power that drew her even as it set off alarms. She had no idea who he was or why he was there. In the academy's military-like climate, she wasn't at liberty to question his presence, merely accept. She figured he was a cop, but had no clue if he was local, state or federal. All she knew for sure was she wanted nothing to do with a man who could jolt her so thoroughly with one look.

  Keeping her gaze off the bleachers, she shifted her foot from O'Brien's throat. "I'll spare you, rookie, only because you've got such a cool wife and baby. O
therwise, your windpipe would be history."

  "Gee, thanks, rookie," O'Brien rasped as he shoved his six-foot frame up off the mat. Using the hem of his gray academy T-shirt to swipe his sweat-soaked forehead, he slid another look toward the bleachers. "Found out yet who the guy is?"

  "No." Morgan snagged the pair of hand towels she'd left folded on the edge of the mat. She tossed one to O'Brien, then looped the other around her neck. "We graduate in two days," she said, blotting one end of the towel against her throat. "I plan to hit the street and do my job. That's all I care about."

  "That, and becoming OCPD's first female chief," O'Brien amended.

  "I keep telling you there's nothing wrong with setting lofty goals. You want to get anywhere in this department, you'd better do the same thing, starting now."

  "Yeah, well, my most pressing goal is to be an awesome host at our graduation party. Anna's made so many hamburger patties I'll have to sweat over the grill for hours to cook them all." He scrubbed the towel over his head, leaving his sandy hair standing in spikes. "You'll be there, right?"

  "Wouldn't miss it. I promised Anna I'd make tiramisu for dessert. And my mom's sending over pots of flowering plants to decorate your patio."

  "Must be nice to have a garden center in the family."

  "It has its advantages."

  "You bringing a date along with that fancy dessert?"

  Morgan raised a shoulder. "Maybe." She far preferred a vague answer than having to explain she'd long ago sworn off dating. And everything else that had to do with nonplatonic relationships.

  Amusement slid into O'Brien's blue eyes. "If you're having trouble finding a date, you could ask stalker-man."

  "And you could wind up on your butt again before this class is over."

  "No way. My pride is bruised enough for one day. Anyway, it looks like your guy's leaving. Maybe he won't be back."

  "There's a happy thought."

  Morgan shifted to get a view of the far side of the gym where the subject under discussion made his way down the bleachers. Dressed in worn jeans and a denim shirt, he moved with the unhurried stride of a man who did not know what it was like to be off balance either mentally or physically. When she found herself wondering what it would take to make him move fast, she bit back a curse.

  She didn't care. Didn't want to be drawn to any man. Had no desire to ever be drawn again.

  Just then the shriek of the training instructor's whistle split the air. Morgan glanced at the clock bolted high on the wall. "Time to hit the showers."

  "I get a shot at you tomorrow, McCall," O'Brien said, snapping his towel at her sneaker-clad feet. "Wear your padded undies because I plan on tossing you on your butt."

  "In your dreams, pal," she bandied over her shoulder, then jogged off toward the women's locker room.

  She was almost there when an academy instructor barked her name. After weeks of training, she automatically halted and stiffened to attention. "Yes, sir?"

  The instructor's black buzz cut was as severe as his expression. "Report to the major's office."

  "The major's office?"

  "Nothing wrong with your hearing, McCall."

  Knee-jerk reaction had her wondering if she had failed to do something required of her, skimmed over some rule, left a task uncompleted. Just as quickly she pushed away the thought. Would the time ever come when her past mistakes lost the power to reach out and grab her by the throat? She knew she hadn't screwed up.

  Not lately, anyway.

  Just a few years before, she had pulled herself out of the black hole she'd dug for herself and vowed to never again lose direction, lose herself. Since then she had made a point to live by the rules. Go by the book. Follow instructions with precision. When she joined the academy she had focused on doing her best, being the best, making her family proud. Having let them down once, she had a lot to make up for.

  Letting logic take over, she directed her thoughts to the memo she received the previous day that advised she would graduate at the top of her recruit class. Surely that was the reason the major had summoned her.

  Beneath her gray academy T-shirt, Morgan felt the sweat from her strenuous workout pooling between her breasts. She glanced toward the locker room, then looked back at the instructor. "Sir, do I have time to shower first?"

  "Negative, recruit. Report to the major's office now."

  "Yes, sir."

  Morgan hesitated when a tingle of eerie awareness drifted through her. As if drawn by an invisible force, her gaze returned to the bleachers, where her stalker had spent hours observing her. She might not yet have a badge, but that didn't prevent a deep, intuitive disquiet from sweeping through her.

  Standing there, she knew instinctively that the dark-haired man with the stiletto-sharp eyes was the reason for her summons to the major's office.

  Chapter 2

  Minutes later Morgan stood at attention before the major's imposing desk, using all of her inner control not to gape at the man. "Sir, how can I work an undercover assignment when I'm still in the academy?"

  "The chief's ordered you to, that's how," Edward Henderson stated. The training center's commander was a big bear of a man clad in an immaculate uniform with razor creases. His office with its cool black furniture and stark white walls was as pristine as his appearance.

  "You'll still graduate with your class." As he spoke, the office's fluorescent lights reflected off Henderson's bald head. "You won't attend the ceremony, is all."

  "Not attend, sir?" Thoughts of her family flashed through Morgan's brain. Her grandfather and father had served on the department. Her three brothers and two older sisters were active-duty Oklahoma City PD officers. Morgan had looked forward to her entire family serving as a cheering section when she accepted the silver badge she'd coveted most of her life.

  Henderson gave a curt nod. "Missing graduation after sixteen weeks of hard work is a disappointment, but it can't be helped. The media air coverage of these ceremonies on the news and print a picture of the recruit class in the paper. They'd clamor to run a piece on you, being the eighth person in your family to wear an OCPD badge. One of the bad guys targeted in this operation might get a glimpse of you and remember later where he'd seen you. That's a risk we can't take."

  The major's use of "we" had Morgan shifting her gaze to the man standing on the opposite side of the room. When she'd entered the office, the major introduced her to Alexander Blade, a sergeant in one of OCPD's undercover units.

  Her stalker.

  Blade now stood with a shoulder propped against a built-in bookcase, one thumb hooked in the front pocket of his jeans. Unease rippled up Morgan's spine while he watched her through those unreadable dark eyes.

  "I have a memo to you from Chief Berry." The comment pulled her attention back to the academy's commander. He opened a desk drawer and retrieved an envelope. "Per the chief's orders, you're assigned to Sergeant Blade's undercover operation for its duration. I'll swear you in and give you your badge before you leave today. You will no longer report here for duty."

  "Yes, sir." Morgan broke her "at attention" stance long enough to accept the envelope. Her brows slid together. "Sir?"

  "What is it, McCall?"

  "There's…a postgraduation barbecue at recruit O'Brien's house. It's private. No media. Am I allowed to attend?"

  "Negative. We'll inform the members of your recruit class you're on special assignment. They'll receive orders not to contact you." Henderson rose. "You're to cut off communication with them until after this assignment ends. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir." Coming from a family of cops, Morgan knew being chosen for undercover work could boost her career. Which would put her on the fast track toward a rise in rank after she'd served her time on the street. Still, the instant flare of disappointment at having been jerked so suddenly from her fellow recruits was a jolt. Over the past months she had purposely paid more attention to her studies than to those with whom she'd shared a classroom. She hadn't realized until this mome
nt she had formed an unintentional emotional bond with her peers.

  "Sergeant Blade has the use of my office to brief you," Henderson continued. "Until further notice, you report to him."

  "Yes, sir." The sense of unease already in her stomach tightened. Before she could switch off her mind, Morgan felt again the memories that still oozed blood, and wounds that had never healed. All because of a man whose very presence sent electricity up her spine. She wasn't into self-deception—around Blade she felt that same hard, hot ball of awareness.

  She had promised herself if her hormones ever again stirred like that for a man, she would run in the opposite direction. Right now the only way she could do that was to stop being a cop before she ever got started.

  Since she had no intention of walking away, she was stuck.

  The door's quiet snap had her looking across her shoulder. Henderson was gone, and Alexander Blade was advancing across the office like a hunter who'd gotten a bead on his prey. She forced herself to stand motionless while anxiety shredded her insides.

  "This assignment come as a surprise to you, McCall?"

  He talked like he moved—slow with a warm-honey tone to his voice.

  "Not totally, sir." She matched his gaze, look for look. "The training staff wouldn't have let you hang around here for a week staring at me if you were just some crazed stalker-pervert off the street."

  His mouth hitched on one side. "My 'hanging around' had a purpose. I wanted to check you out. And I needed to know how you handle yourself when you're aware you're being observed."

  "Since I'm here, I take it I passed?"

  "Barely. Every time I walked into a room your spine stiffened and your shoulders went as tight as wire. Your body language sent the message you knew I had my eyes on you. That won't work for this assignment. You'll be watched, yet still need to act like you're unaware."

  Although it stung he'd read her so well, she gave thanks he didn't know the underlying reason for her reaction to his presence. "What's the assignment?"