Suzanne Brockmann - Hero Under Cover

“NYU,” he said. The bio the agency had created for Peter Taylor had him attending New York University from 1973 to 1977. Truth was, he hadn’t even set foot in New York until 1980. But he’d been Pete Taylor so many times, on so many different assignments, he almost had memories of the imaginary classes….

“Are you aware that I’m currently under investigation by the FBI and the CIA?” she asked, her blue eyes still watching him.

He was caught off guard by the directness of her question and had to look away, momentarily thrown.

“They think I’m involved in some kind of international art-theft conspiracy,” she said.

He glanced up at her and saw that her lips were curved in a small smile. “Are you?” he asked.

He made a good recovery, Annie thought. He had known about the investigation. She was willing to bet he had done a full background sweep on her before coming up from New York City. It didn’t surprise her one bit. Marshall wouldn’t have hired anyone who was less than outstanding.

“Are you hungry?” she said, standing and stretching, arms pulled up over her head, ignoring his question. “I haven’t eaten all day, and if I don’t have something soon, I’m gonna die.”

Pete found his eyes drawn to the gap that appeared between her pajama top and the loose bottoms that rode low on her slender hips. “I ate already, thanks,” he said. “Besides, I have an expense account that Mr. Marshall is covering. It’s not fair that I should cost you money. After all, you don’t even want me here.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Annie said, climbing up the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

“I know,” he said, following her.

She turned on the light in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She pulled an apple from the crisper drawer and took it to the sink, where she washed it quickly, then dried it with a towel.

The kitchen was a small room, just barely large enough to hold a table in one corner and a counter with a sink, stove, refrigerator and dishwasher in the other. It was decorated in black and white, with a tile floor that reminded Pete of a chessboard.

“I’d like to do a complete walk-through of the building,” Pete said, watching her take a healthy bite of the apple. “I checked out the first floor and the basement while you were asleep. Your safe location is good. It would take a significant explosive charge to blow it open. But your general security is—” He broke off, shaking his head.

“Bush-league?” Annie supplied, leaning back against the counter, ankles and arms crossed, watching him as she ate her apple.

It didn’t rate a smile, but there was a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “Definitely. A professional could get into this house without triggering the alarm system—no problem. Don’t you read Consumer Reports? The system you have is known for malfunctions. It’s unreliable. It’s easily bypassed, and it goes off spontaneously.”

Annie shaved the last bit of fruit from the core of the apple with her teeth, licking her lips as she looked up at him. “I’ve noticed.” She opened the cabinet door beneath the sink and tossed the apple core into a compost container, then rinsed her hands.

His expression changed slightly. Most people might not have picked it up—it was just a very small contraction of his dark eyebrows. But Annie was trained to pay attention to details, and on a face as expressionless as he kept his, the movement stood out. “What?” she asked.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Something’s bugging you. What is it?”

She was standing only a few feet away from him, and he breathed in her natural fragrance. She smelled sweet and warm, with a little bit of baby shampoo, some rich-smelling skin lotion and tart apple thrown in for good measure. Although her pajamas were boxy and made of thick flannel, he was well aware of the soft, feminine body underneath. He felt his desire for her sparking, and he tightened his stomach muscles. Man, his entire office believed that she was a thief….

“I was wondering if that’s all you’re going to eat,” he said levelly. Through sheer force of will he stopped his desire for her from growing. He forced it back, down, deep inside of him, willing it to stay hidden. For now, anyway. “It doesn’t seem like very much, considering that you were so hungry. You should eat something more filling.”

Annie laughed, her white teeth flashing. “This is great,” she said. “A bodyguard who gives nutritional advice. How appropriate.”

He smiled. It was actually little more than the sides of his mouth twitching upward, but Annie decided it counted as a smile. Shoot, with a full grin, he’d be as handsome as the devil. More handsome…

“Sorry,” he said. “But you asked.”

“You’re right,” she said, leading the way onto the landing, “I did. Look, I’ve got to get some work done.”

She flipped her long hair back out of her face in a well-practiced motion, and hiked up her pajama bottoms. Pete wished almost desperately that she would put on some other clothes. It wasn’t like him to be so easily distracted, but every time she moved, he had to work hard to keep from wanting her.

For a long time now, he’d gone without sex. Not because it wasn’t available, but because he simply hadn’t wanted it. Didn’t it figure that his libido should suddenly come to life again out here, in the middle of nowhere, while he was alone in this big house with this beautiful woman? Man, as soon as he got back to the New York office, he’d have to look up Carolyn what’s-her-name, the administrative assistant with the long legs….

“It would help if I could take a look at the top floors of the house,” Pete said.

Annie shook her head. “Taylor, I don’t mean to be rude,” she said, “but I’m already two days behind in my work schedule. Frankly, there’s no point in my showing you around, because after I talk to Marshall tomorrow, you’re going to be catching the next train back into the city.”

“I drove up,” he said expressionlessly.

“I was speaking figuratively,” she said.

“It’s going to be hard for me to do my job without your cooperation,” Pete pointed out.

She started down the stairs to the lab. “Why don’t you use my phone to call your answering machine,” she said, not unsympathetically. “Maybe someone called with a different job for you. You can work for them and get all the cooperation you could possibly want.”

Annie stayed in the lab until shortly after two-thirty in the morning. She finished all but the last set of purity tests on a copper bowl that had been found at a southwestern archaeological dig site, believed to have been left by early Spanish conquistadors. That last test would take another two hours, and the thought of spending that much more time under Peter Taylor’s unwavering gaze was far too exhausting. Besides, even if she finished the testing, she wouldn’t have any conclusive evidence until the sample results came back from the carbon-dating lab.

She switched off the equipment and put the bowl back in the safe, turning to find Taylor still watching her.

He was sitting in a chair by the door. He didn’t look tired despite the late hour. He didn’t look uncomfortable or put upon or…anything.

Christmas, he was making her nervous.

She thought about just breezing past him, out the door and up the stairs, but her conscience made her stop.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs,” she said. “You can sleep—”

But he was shaking his head. “No.”

“Oh,” she said. “I suppose you want to stay down here, to be near the safe—”

“The safe’s secure,” he said, pulling himself out of the chair in one graceful, fluid motion. “You’d need a crane to move it, and a ton of dynamite to get into it. If I sleep at all, it’s going to be in your bedroom.”

Annie stared at him, shocked. In her bedroom…But his words had been said matter of factly, expressionlessly, without any hint of sexual overtones. Either he had no idea of his physical appeal, or he was so confident, he didn’t doubt that any woman would be grateful to share her bed with him. “I don’t think so,” she said.

He raised one eyebrow, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. “I meant, on the floor.”

Annie willed herself not to blush. “You’d be much more comfortable in the guest room,” she said.

“But you would be much less safe,” he countered. “Your alarm system is nearly worthless—”

“I’ll be fine,” Annie protested. This was starting to get tiring. Why wouldn’t he just accept his defeat and sleep in the guest room?

He was blocking her way up the stairs, his arms crossed stubbornly in front of his chest. “Will you please let me do my job?”

“By all means,” she said. “Do your job. Just do it in the guest room tonight.”

He wasn’t going to move, so Annie pushed past him, starting toward the stairs.

But he caught her arm, stopping her. His fingers were long and strong, easily encircling her wrist. The heat from his hand penetrated the flannel of her pajamas.

Her heart was pounding from annoyance, Annie tried to convince herself, not from his touch. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“I am going to protect you,” he said. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes were like twin chips of volcanic glass.

He had pulled her in so close that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. “Maybe so,” she said, and to her chagrin, her voice shook very slightly. “But who’s going to protect me from you?”

Pete dropped her arm immediately.

“I don’t know you from Adam,” Annie said, stepping back, away from him, rubbing her arm. “For all I know, you’re really the guy who’s been making the death threats. For all I know, you’ve done in the real Peter Taylor.”

“My picture’s on my ID, and my driver’s license.”

“Everyone knows picture IDs are easy to fake—” She broke off, staring in fascination at his necklace. She’d noticed earlier that he wore silver beads around his neck, but until now she hadn’t caught a glimpse of the necklace. It was clearly Navaho, with small coin-silver hollow beads, and five squash blossoms decorating the bottom half, along with a three-quarter circle design pendant, known as a naja.

Ignoring her trepidation, she took a step toward him, lifting the naja in her hand. “This is beautiful,” she said, glancing up at him before studying it more closely. Two tiny hands decorated the ends of the naja. “Navaho. It’s quite old, too, isn’t it?”

All of her anger, all of her uneasiness was instantly forgotten as she was caught up, examining the carefully worked silver. She looked at the necklace with real interest, real excitement sparking in her eyes.

Pete laughed, and Annie looked up at him in surprise. It was a rich, deep laugh complete with a grin that transformed his face. She had been right—with his face unfrozen, he was exceptionally handsome.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s Navaho.”

She was standing so close to him, mere inches away, holding the naja, but looking up at him. As he gazed into her wide blue eyes, he could feel the heat rising in him. What was it about her that made his body react so powerfully? He wanted to pull her into his arms, feel her body against his. He could imagine the way her lips would taste. Warm and sweet. Man, it would take so little effort….

Pete shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans to keep from touching her.

“Your belt buckle is Navaho, too,” she said. “And the ring on your hand, I think…I didn’t really get a good look at it.”