Undercover Justice

by Adrienne Giordano

  And that, Caroline knew how to deal with. When it came to sex, she and Mitch Monroe understood each other. First though, she’d have to drill through the wall of anger.

  She closed the distance between them and ignored his leer at her skimpy dress. “What are you doing here?”

  “You threw me a pity assignment.”

  Oh, please with the drama. And me without my gun. Again.

  But maybe a good battle would help now. Get them back to their safe place. That place where honesty ruled and—twisted freaks that they were—became part of their communication process. Fight. Mind bending sex. A good talk. Problem solved.

  But, it worked.

  Prepping for their usual routine, Caroline crowded in, got right into his space. His breath skittered across her cheek and she tilted her chin up. Game on. “It wasn’t a pity assignment.”

  “Sure it was. And worse, Ms. Production Assistant, you lied to me.”

  “Mitch—”

  “—You lied.”

  Whoa. The gritty, rough edge of the words knocked her back. “I…um…had to.”

  He let out a grunting laugh.

  Sarcasm.

  Excellent. Back to business. A few more expertly placed verbal shots and he’d start yelling. Yelling, from Mitch, she understood. Yelling took the pressure off.

  She waited. Anticipated that moment when he’d let her have it and she’d get all churned up, blasting back. Bring it on, Mitch.

  But…nothing. She waited another three, maybe four, seconds, but all he did was nod. A slow, even bob of his head. No hands flying, no animation, no smirking.

  He looked her up and down again. “So, you’re dressed like a whore and you didn’t think maybe you should tell me about it? That maybe the guy your mother is so hot for you to marry should know about men pawing at you? You didn’t think you should prep me? I mean just in case, while trying to help you with your assignment, I happened to run into a guy who might tell me he’d like to—” he paused, leaned in closer, his face right next to hers, “—fuck you from every position imaginable.”

  God. Poor Mitch. Sickness railed against her, slamming around in her stomach. “Someone said that to you?”

  He closed his eyes, raised his hands and dropped them. “Yeah, Caroline. Some dickhead named Steven you supposedly blew off.”

  “The pig?”

  “How the hell should I know? I saw him in the alley. Where I had to listen to him talk about you like some piece of trash. A piece of ass he’d fuck, and then be done with. You might land him a $1000 bonus and his own reality TV show. How’s that sound, partner?”

  Horrible. That’s how it sounded. And she had no response. Zero comments. She’d betrayed him. Unintentional as it was, she’d still done it. Avoiding his eyes, Caroline stared straight ahead at the spot on Mitch’s neck that she liked to snuggle into at night.

  “Look at me, Caroline.”

  No.

  “Okay. Don’t look at me. Whatever. Guilt does that to people. Grey knew about this?”

  Caroline nodded.

  “Of course he did. So my closest friend, my go-to guy, went along. Perpetuated the lie. And neither of you, the ones who count, had enough faith that I could control myself.” He dragged his hands over his hair, pulling hard enough to tug the skin on his forehead tight. “Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot.”

  Fix it. Somehow, she had to make this right. Make him understand. “Mitch, please.”

  “No, Caroline. You want me out of the way, sure. Great. I’ll go back to the hotel. I’ll gamble and take in a show. I’ll let you stay here, with your tits and ass hanging out, while men try to fuck. You. Blind.”

  “That’s not—”

  “—I’ll watch showgirls. Isn’t that what you told me to do?”

  And damn him throwing her words back at her. Rather than leave the love of her life at home in D.C., idle and thinking too much, she’d let him tag along.

  To Vegas.

  Where he could busy himself with craps and the sports book and showgirls. Showgirls, she’d teased, were meant to be seen and not touched. Mitch knew this and she didn’t worry about him. With his loyalty, he’d sooner cut off his own fingers than let them wander.

  And all the while she’d been teasing him about not touching the showgirls, she’d been preparing to throw herself at a bunch of pigs.

  But that’s what undercover assignments were. Lies and deception. Even with loved ones. Mitch knew this. Better than anyone, he knew it. Still, the hurt in his eyes, the deep, deep disappointment, nearly tore her in two.

  Control. She had to maintain control. She clasped her hands in front of her, straightened her shoulders. “It’s an assignment.”

  “Right. Speaking of which.” He pulled a phone and charger from his back pocket and slapped it into her hand. “Megan’s phone. I found it in her room, but I couldn’t get past the passcode. Thought you’d want to have that since our missing girl is addicted to social media.”

  Addicted wasn’t the word. This girl chronicled her life on Twitter. Fifteen minutes didn’t pass between tweets. “She’d never leave her phone.”

  Mitch turned and waved for a cab.

  “Mitch, please. Don’t go.”

  “Tami?”

  Caroline whipped back to the front entrance of the club where the young assistant producer—Toby—held the door open. How much had he heard?

  Mitch looked back at her then to the producer.

  “You two need to get in here. You can’t be alone together. Against the rules.”

  You two? What did that mean?

  Mitch slashed his hand across his neck. “I’m done. I was walking by, saw a guy out here having a smoke, and for shits and giggles, went in with him. Checking things out. That’s all.”

  So good at this. Every situation, every tight spot, he found a way to work out of it. After their time at the FBI and now the Justice Team, his brilliance at fieldwork didn’t surprise her, but this time, the job had intersected with their personal life.

  And he still worked the case.

  The producer let the door close and walked toward them. “Oh, no. You’re not leaving. Trust me, you want in on this. I saw you come inside with that douchebag, Steven. I saw you look at her. And her at you. Bam.” He waggled his hand between them. “Whatever this is, it’s magic. The ratings will be epic. You two know each other?”

  Whoopsie. This right here? Big problem. The producer wanted Mitch as a bachelor, but the show’s rules specifically stated the bachelor and bachelorette had to be strangers. No previous knowledge. That’s what the contract had said. Not that it mattered since they’d be out of here as soon as they found the senator’s daughter. But if Mitch joined this crazy-assed production, them knowing each other would bring unwanted attention, complaining from the other bachelors that Mitch had an unfair edge.

  After what Toby had just witnessed, they obviously knew each other. Caroline squeezed Mitch’s arm, the signal to let her handle it. If, of course, he was still willing to let her do that.

  When he didn’t pull away, she went back to Toby. “We met in the bar last night.”

  “Yeah,” Mitch said. “She told me about the audition. I figured I’d come down and check it out.”

  The producer came closer, waggled a finger between them. “That’s it? No personal connections? No hookups in the restroom? Nothing?”

  Every man on this production was a pig. Every one of them. “No,” Caroline said, drawing out the word. “Nothing.”

  “Good. As long as there’s been no fucking around, we can live with it. And, look at you two. Fucking gorgeous. People magazine here we come.”

  Toby pivoted, prepared to march back to the front door.

  “Dude,” Mitch said, “I’m not staying.”

  He waved down a passing taxi and it pulled up to the curb. She couldn’t let him leave. Not like this. Not mad at her. Besides, now that Toby had invited him to be part of the circus known as reality television, now that he’d inserted
himself into the op, he might as well stay and help her. Behind Toby’s back, Caroline made prayer hands and mouthed the word, “please.”

  Come on, partner. I need you.

  In more ways than one.

  4

  Betrayal sucked donkey balls.

  Caroline was staring at him, silently begging him to go back inside with her. Begging him not to be gutted by the fact she hadn’t trusted him with the details of her op.

  But he was gutted. Gutted and gripping the taxi door hard enough to bend it like the Hulk.

  Yes or no? Stay or leave?

  “I’m telling you, man,” Toby said, completely ignorant of Mitch’s suffering. “If you ever wanted a career in front of the camera, this is your chance. You’re star quality. Camera magic. You could end up on a soap opera. You’ve got that tough guy, bad boy look all the women love. Or maybe land your own reality show.”

  What would that be? Unhinged: The Mitch Monroe Story?

  Toby brushed by Caroline, taking the steps two at a time up to the door. “The camera loves him. You get a bonus if you get him to stay.”

  Fuck the camera. Did Caroline love him?

  Loyalty was the only thing Mitch had ever cared about. The one thing he’d always known he had from Grey and, yes, Caroline after they’d worked on clearing his name of murder the previous fall. Unfaltering, resolute loyalty.

  Fucking A.

  And now that loyalty was as sullied as the alley. The air wasn’t only tinged with the smell of garbage. It stunk of betrayal.

  Caroline started to speak, stopped. Smart girl. She knew he was on the cusp of leaving, not only the club, but the op, and maybe even her.

  “Yo, buddy,” the taxi driver said, “you comin’ or not?”

  Mitch’s knuckles hurt from clenching the car door so hard. He forced himself to loosen his grip.

  If he opened his mouth, even to answer the driver, he was afraid of what would happen. He’d lose it, lose the thin control he had at the moment and start yelling. Cursing. The filter was not only absent, it was buried six fucking feet under.

  And if he said the wrong thing at this moment—which he most certainly would—his relationship with Caroline would fall into the same deep, unforgiving hole.

  “Please, Mitch,” Caroline whispered. “Say something.”

  He’d rather punch the wall.

  Truth was, though, Grey and Caroline knew him better than anyone. Was it really such a surprise that they hadn’t told him the details of this assignment, knowing he would go apeshit? He would have put the kibosh on it before Caroline could say “blackjack.”

  Sarcasm, his old friend, came to his rescue. “Do you get to keep the dress?”

  Her brows drew down over her heavily charcoaled eyelids. “What?”

  “Do you get to keep that incredibly slutty dress?”

  “Why?”

  “I may have uses it for it later when I get you back to our hotel room.”

  And…wait for it….

  Bam. The tight tension she was holding herself together with leaked out like a popped balloon on her loud exhale. “There’s not enough material to this thing to do more than tie me up.”

  “Exactly.”

  One corner of her mouth quirked. “Kinky.”

  He closed the taxi door and waved the driver off. “Let’s get this over with so I can get you back to the hotel, strip that stupid thing off of you, and make you a happy woman.”

  He started to brush by her, but she caught his arm. She’d caught the flatness of his voice, the lack of conviction in his statement. “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t look her in the eye. His gaze rested on her cleavage, which was truly a hardship. Her boobs were hiked up and squished in so much, the showgirls at the casino would be jealous. “Yeah, sure, but we will discuss this. Later.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led her inside. The music had stopped for a moment and Toby was giving out instructions. “We will announce the bachelorettes and bachelors for the show tomorrow morning. There will be a party for the cast in the evening. Make sure you’re available. If you get the call, you’ll also be expected to be at Dominion, five a.m. sharp on Friday, where a van will pick you up and drive you to the mansion to begin taping. Remember boys, you get a bonus for fighting, a bonus for 911 calls, and a bonus for sex.”

  Every man’s gaze swung to Caroline and Mitch’s blood pressure went into orbit.

  The show claimed to be unscripted, but the producers sure knew how to manipulate the contestants to ramp up the drama.

  “Sounds like your kind of show,” Caroline murmured close to his ear. Her voice held a teasing note, but it was masked by nerves. “You’d make a killing if you were sticking around.”

  He would win this show hands down, even before it started. As Toby spit out more rules and instructions, Mitch made his way to the DJ, requesting a hip-hop tango number he’d seen on Caroline’s iPod.

  When Toby gave the DJ a nod to start the music again, Mitch grabbed Caroline’s hand and drew her to center stage.

  The music started and she raised an eyebrow. “Is this what I think it is?”

  He twirled her around in place and set his feet for the tango. “Think you can keep up with me, Foster?”

  Her smoky eyes locked on his, and there it was. The chemistry. The heat.

  She pressed her sky-high boobs against him and grinned. “I’m going to leave you in the dust, Mitch Monroe.”

  They started moving to the traditional tango, the rest of the contestants staring at them with stupefied looks. The traditional tune gave way to a hip-hop beat and Caroline broke from Mitch’s arms and went into her rendition of something Mitch likened to The Robot.

  The dress and heels would look at home in a Beyoncé video, but her ungraceful, geeky dance moves made him smile.

  Of course, his moves weren’t any better.

  As soon as the classic rendition picked up again, he drew her close, enjoying the way she skimmed his body, her hands gliding down his back, over his hips to his ass and back up. She twirled around and together they did some grinding, their hips moving in and out, in and out, in perfect unison. Just another night with Mitch and Caroline tearing it up. Only this time, they were missing a bed to drop into and make each other howl. Later.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Toby talking to another man, both of them nodding their approval.

  “Megan left here last night with two of the bachelors,” Caroline said just loud enough for him to hear as Mitch leaned her back over his arm.

  Returning her upright, he held her close. “Names?”

  “Not yet.”

  He twirled her out and back, and then tucked her into him. “Security camera west corner. I’ll have Teeg hack into the database and pull footage from last night. I’ll have him check the hotel’s security footage as well.”

  Another couple of moves and she was close enough to talk again. “I’ll check her social media accounts from her phone.”

  The dance ended. A scattering of applause, mostly from the director’s booth echoed in the club. The next song—an electronic dance number—started up, and Mitch led Caroline from the floor. “We need to blow this joint.”

  “We can’t just leave togeth—”

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Steven stepped into their path, his eyes raking over Caroline’s body. “Fancy moves you’ve got there.”

  Mitch’s hand clenched into a fist but before he could pop the punk, Caroline stopped him. She ran a hand up and down Mitch’s arm and smiled. Her voice came out low and sexy. “I had a good partner.”

  “I’ll be your partner,” the kid said with a wink.

  “Did you leave here with Megan last night?” Mitch asked. “You and Cole, your drinking buddy who can’t hold his liquor?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  Mitch patted Caroline’s hand. “Go get that drink you wanted, baby. Me and Steven here need to have a talk.”

  He hustled the kid into a hallway where the music was muffled
. Glancing back at Caroline, who’d already pulled Megan’s phone from somewhere, he saw her turn it on. His mind traveled to where she might have been hiding that phone and he had to rein in his lascivious thoughts.

  “Start talking,” Mitch said to Steven, shoving him up against the wall with one hand while he texted Teeg with the other. “What did you do to Megan?”

  “Megan?” The cocky kid wasn’t so cocky when faced with a true badass. “What are you talking about?”

  Mitch finished his text. “You and Cole. Megan’s disappeared, as in off the face of the earth, and my guess is you’re to blame. Start talking, douch-osaurus, or you won’t be able to get a bonus for fucking any woman, much less the bachelorette, although I can’t comprehend why she would have sex with you in the first place.”

  “Jesus, man. What’s your problem? Why the fuck do you care about that cocktease Megan when you have Tami drooling all over you?”

  Mitch banged Steven against the wall again, knocking his head back. “She’s a friend of mine. Tell me what happened last night.”

  “Okay, okay.” Steven looked around wild-eyed. “I didn’t do anything to Megan, I swear. We partied a little and that was it.”

  “Where did you party?”

  “Back at the hotel where we’re all staying. The club downstairs. Waaayy nicer than here, you know, and Cole’s uncle is a manager, so he upgraded us to a better room and we got some free food.”

  Mitch added an addendum to his text to Teeg. Check for Megan in hotel club. “Did you fuck her?”

  “She was a total cocktease, like I said. Bailed on us about half an hour after we got to the hotel and said her phone was dead. She was going to bed. There was this dude watching her. She didn’t like it so she bailed. All that flirting and texting and tweeting and shit? Total acting job. She wouldn’t even let me cop a feel.”

  Shit. Mitch’s internal bullshit detector was mute. The kid was telling the truth.

  At least part of it.

  He released Steven, wondering what the hell had happened to the girl. Maybe Teeg’s hack into the hotel’s security cameras would give them a clue.

  “And then you know what she did?” Steven was on a roll now. “I saw her later, meeting that same dude at the bar. He was all over her. Like, what was that shit? One minute she’s running from him, and the next, she’s having a drink with him and letting him get in her space? I’m telling you, man, total cocktease. I bet he was her boyfriend or something and she was just pretending she wants a bachelor so she could get on the show. Bitches will do anything to get on TV.”