Covert Agent’s

Virgin Affair

Linda Conrad

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Copyright

Dear Reader,

Once again Intrigue authors are happy to bring you a compelling story from the Colton family. This branch of the Coltons is headquartered in Montana, and we had lots of fun developing the intrigue between three powerful families living in the small town of Honey Creek.

Covert Agent’s Virgin Affair is the second story in the series and I really enjoyed writing it. Both my hero and heroine had damaging pasts and I wasn’t sure they could ever overcome them in order to find happiness together. But I love my heroine, who has just lost over a hundred pounds and is ready to start a new life. Mary’s a special person who deserves a special love, and I think she finds it in the man who is ready to die to save her life. But the trick for Mary is to open her eyes and see who the man she loves really is underneath his shell.

Thanks for coming along on the journey. Hope you enjoy reading the Coltons’ stories as much as we enjoyed writing them!

Happy Reading!

Linda Conrad

About the Author

When asked about her favourite things, LINDA CONRAD lists a longtime love affair with her husband, her sweetheart of a dog named KiKi and a sunny afternoon with nothing to do but read a good book. Inspired by generations of storytellers in her family and pleased to have many happy reader’s comments, Linda continues creating her own sensuous and suspenseful stories about compelling characters finding love.

A bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, Linda has received numerous industry awards, among them the National Reader’s Choice Award, the Maggie, the Write Touch Readers’ Award and the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. To contact Linda, read more about her books or to sign up for her newsletter and/or contests, go to her website at www.LindaConrad.com.

To Marie, Jennifer, Cindy, Beth and Karen;

What a pleasure it was to work with you!

Let’s do it again!

And to Patience Smith, who came up with the spark

that started it all. You continue to be the editor

extraordinaire!

My many thanks to all of you for making this

a great book and a fun time!

Chapter 1

As the first blow crashed into his right shoulder, FBI special agent Jake Pierson wasn’t thinking about self-defense. He’d been deep in his head, preparing and memorizing backstory for his latest undercover assignment.

Standing alone in the delivery zone behind a hotel bar after sundown without backup wasn’t the smartest move for a special agent, even one undercover. But Jake was waiting for the contact to let him know when his target had entered the bar.

He’d done his pre-mission checking and considered the medium-size western city of Bozeman, Montana, a safe place after dark. Apparently, he was wrong.

But it didn’t take him ten seconds to get back in the game. Jake’s body curved backward as the assailant pressed a thumb to his windpipe. If it hadn’t been such a surprise, Jake might’ve laughed at the amateurish attempt at overpowering someone like him, well-trained in martial arts. But the sudden knee to his kidney switched the mood from light to serious in a flash.

Planting his feet, Jake bent at the knees and burst upright with a roar. Power-lifting had been one of his specialties during training at Quantico, and he hadn’t tried a move like this in the many years since.

The assailant clung to his neck. Jake easily rolled him over his shoulder and slammed him to the ground.

In seconds the attacker jumped back to his feet. Jake had to hand it to him, the guy was resilient.

Suddenly a knife appeared, and the man was waving it in Jake’s face. In the low light it was hard to tell, but Jake figured this was a kid. At least ten to fifteen years younger than his own ancient age of thirty-five.

What was this? A robbery attempt? Or something more?

Jake would have to ask the asshole. As soon as he disarmed him.

The kid’s knife hand swung wildly, and when Jake sidestepped, the assailant threw himself off balance. Jake used the opportunity to grab him by the elbow and twist the attacker’s whole arm up and behind his back.

“Ow!” The kid screamed like a child on a Ferris wheel and dropped his knife.

Jake whirled him around and slammed the heel of his hand square in the assailant’s nose. The blow reverberated back up Jake’s arm, but the sickening sound of breaking cartilage told him his attacker would be hurting a lot worse than he was.

“My nose. You broke my frigging nose!” The kid started throwing punches without looking.

Jake sighed, wishing the kid would simply go down easy. He hated having to inflict more damage in order to subdue an obvious nonprofessional.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?”

A sudden bright light from the bar’s open back door, along with the sound of someone shouting, took Jake’s attention away from his assailant. For only an instant. But it was enough time for the kid to get in one last smash at Jake’s side and then break away. Jake stumbled to the left while the kid made a mad dash down the side of the building and out of sight.

It took everything Jake had in him not to chase after his attacker. The mission always comes first.

The bartender stepped beside Jake. “Are you okay? You want me to call the cops? “

Jake straightened up as he shot the wrinkles out of his lightweight leather jacket. “No need to call anyone. It was a simple misunderstanding.”

The last thing he needed was for the Bozeman cops to question him. If this attack had come twenty miles south in the little town of Honey Creek where Jake’s main assignment would be taking place, talking to the sheriff wouldn’t be a problem. The sheriff there knew the FBI would be in his town conducting an undercover operation. But here? Not worth all the effort.

“Well, if you’re sure.” The bartender shrugged. “Oh, yeah. The reason I stepped out here is that woman you were asking about is in the bar. She came in with several friends, but they’re gone now. She’s sitting at a small table all alone. Is that what you wanted? “

“Good work.” Jake shoved a few bills into the bartender’s hand. “Remember not to tell anyone I was asking. Right?”

“Yes, sir.” The bartender grinned and put his fingertip to his lips.

Annoyed that he hadn’t been able to question his attacker, Jake tried to tell himself that it must have been a simple robbery attempt. But his gut told him that wasn’t true. It would’ve been a huge coincidence, and Jake had never believed in coincidences.

Foul-ups on this job had started from the get-go. The man he was supposed to meet in Honey Creek had turned up dead a few days ago—before he could tell Jake anything. That put a giant kink in the FBI’s information stream.

Jake had frantically put together a fall-back plan with the help of Jim Willis, his partner back in Seattle. He’d spent most of the past twenty-four hours memorizing facts and backgrounds that Jim had supplied.

Following the bartender inside, Jake rubbed at the knuckles on his right hand, absently opening and closing the fingers. He stopped to stand in the shadows behind the bar, taking time to study his new target and running over what he knew of her in his head.

Late twenties with shoulder-length bright red hair, she was one of his original informant’s two daughters. The other daughter reportedly kept nearly constant company with a new boyfriend, whereas this one, a single, quiet librarian, seemed like a much easier mark. In addition, the other daughter also had more involvement in the secondary aspects of this case. For one thing, she’d had at least one good reason to want to see her father dead.

When Jake finally spotted his target in a far corner, the sudden kick of attention from his libido surprised the hell out of him. Where had that come from? He hadn’t taken much interest in the opposite sex beyond a few brief liaisons in the past ten years. And it would not have been his choice to start noticing again in the middle of an undercover mission. The timing was inopportune at the very least.

Then again… He reconsidered the idea as he continued studying the woman who was sipping wine and flirting casually with the bartender. Maybe his own…uh…interest would add a layer of reality to the mission. He and his partner Jim had devised a plan calling for Jake to pretend a romantic relationship with this target. The idea was to insinuate himself with her first. Then she would introduce him to the rest of her family and the others in Honey Creek while he took his time gathering information.

Jake suddenly thought pretending a romantic relationship might not be such a hardship. The mission always comes first.

Mary Walsh fidgeted in her seat and sneaked a glance around the bar. Maybe she was being foolish. Coming to a librarians’ conference and expecting to find a wonderful stranger who would introduce her to the joys of womanhood seemed a bit incongruent. Probably there wouldn’t be one real man in this whole hotel.

But Mary was determined to find out in the little time she had left at the conference. Her life was already changing, enough, in fact, that she could scarcely keep up. For one thing, her father, the one who had supposedly died fifteen years ago, had suddenly turned up dead—again! She had barely managed to put all her baggage behind her and now she was facing memories of her childhood one more time. Damn him anyway.

Mary took a sip of her wine and tried to calm down. Then, staring absently at the remaining rose-colored liquid, she winced. Her therapist would have his own breakdown if he knew she was using alcohol as a substitute for food. He expected her to go for a nice long run instead.

But, well, screw him. He wasn’t the one who’d had to fight hard to change his whole life. And after coming this close to her ultimate goal, she was the one who’d been smacked in the face with the same old problems she’d thought were far behind her, not her therapist.

After all, who else in the entire world but the Walsh family would have a father who’d died not once but twice, for pity’s sake?

She raised her hand and signaled to the bartender for another wine. A new start. That was what she needed. She was all done preparing for life. This latest mess her father had brought down upon the family had clinched it for her.

Mary was ready to start living.

“Hey. This seat taken?” The deep male voice brought her head up and she stared into the most wonderful pair of ice-blue eyes.

Wasn’t that what Nora Roberts, her favorite romance author, once wrote about heroes who had stark blue-colored eyes like this? As much as Mary had memorized nearly every word in her favorite novels, right this moment she could barely remember her own name for sure, let alone any particular quotations.

“Um. Is that a pick-up line?” Now why was that the first thing out of her mouth? She would scare him away.

“Maybe. But can I sit anyway?”

Oh. This guy was cool. “Sure. I might not mind being picked up tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth curved in the most interesting version of a smile that Mary had ever seen. She noticed his rugged chin then, and the even craggier jawline. His eyes were cold, deep pools. Deep and full of secrets. Icy was certainly the right word for them.

His black jeans and black leather jacket added to the picture of a hard man. And wasn’t that a scar running from his eye to his temple?

She realized she might’ve been wrong. Nothing about him seemed heroic. Fascinating and handsome, maybe. But he was not a romance hero.

He reminded her of the newest actor to play James Bond. Yes, definitely. This guy looked like a secret agent.

“The name’s Jake,” he said as he turned to signal the waitress. “Jake Pierson.”

He sat down and stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

“Mary Walsh.” She took his hand and a shock wave ran up her arm.

Pulling back, she tried to look calm and pleasant instead of making a wisecrack. Wow. They had electricity between them. Just like in one of her novels. This guy was going to be it. For sure. She promised not to mess things up for herself.

The waitress brought Mary’s wine and asked Jake for his order.

“Whatever you have on tap will be good.” He gestured to Mary’s wine. “And put that on my tab.”

The waitress nodded and left.

“Did you just buy me a drink?” Mary’s nerves were jangling with anticipation.

“That okay with you?”

“Better than okay. Thanks!” The first time a stranger had ever bought her a drink. Things were looking up.

“Tell me about yourself, Mary. What do you do and where are you from?”

“I’m a librarian in Honey Creek—unfortunately.”

He chuckled and the sound warmed her down to the pit of her stomach. “Why unfortunately? I think it’s great. I recently moved to Honey Creek myself.”

“You did?” A man like this in her backwoods small town? Whoo boy. “Why?”

This time when he laughed out loud, the warmth flashed all the way through her body. It heated up parts of her that she’d barely known she had.

“I’m in commercial real estate. There’re a couple of new projects near Honey Creek that I want to pursue.”

“Really?” The possibilities for a longer-term relationship with this man danced in her mind.

She suddenly remembered that her best friend forever, Susan Kelley, had mentioned meeting a handsome new real estate agent in town. Jake must be that guy. He was sure handsome enough.

Susan had found her own true love over the past few weeks. She even had the ring to prove it. Wouldn’t it be something if Mary could find someone, too?

“I don’t want to talk about business.” He gave her a look that seemed to be full of meaning, but she had no idea what that meaning might be. “You’re not married or engaged or anything are you?”

Ohhh. That. “Me?” The giggle erupted before she could order it back. “Not at all.”

“What’s funny?”

The waitress arrived with their drink order, giving Mary a chance to think over a response. Here she was, at yet another crossroads in her life. She considered telling a white lie. Or maybe giving him a nice easy line that would avoid her having to answer. But then she remembered her father. The world’s biggest liar. And she decided she hated liars and everything that went along with them. No, she had no choice but to tell Jake the truth.

If that meant that he would do a quick disappearing act—so be it.

Jake wasn’t sure what he expected her to say in answer to his question. The woman acted much younger than her twenty-nine years. Perhaps she would say something about being more interested in intellectual pursuits. Or something about her current strange family circumstances.

A father who’d turned up newly dead, after having already been declared dead fifteen years ago, would probably wreak serious havoc on anyone’s social life.

Whatever she would eventually say, Jake was sure enjoying the play of emotions across Mary’s face while he waited. Her gorgeous eyes sidetracked him. That wondrous color hadn’t shown up particularly well in the photos his partner had faxed along with her file. What hue were they exactly? What color could she possibly list for them on her driver’s license?

Eyes: the color of fine aged whiskey. Or maybe…

Eyes: deepest amber, the color of clover honey.

“For most of my life I’ve been at least a hundred pounds overweight,” Mary finally answered flatly, with no emotion in her voice—despite what he could only describe as fear in her eyes. “I’ve recently taken off the weight and reached my goal…more or less.”

She lowered her chin, and stared into her glass of white zinfandel before continuing, “Being the ‘fat one’ in every crowd tends to put people off.”

“You can’t be serious,” he cracked, before he thought about what he was saying.

When her head came up too fast, he tried to recover. “People shouldn’t judge others by their outward appearance. You’re sure beautiful now. I would never have guessed you haven’t always looked the same as you do now. How’d you lose the weight?”

“Are you asking if I had weight-loss surgery?” She shook her head but was watching him closely. “Too chicken. I did it the old-fashioned way—by letting a psychologist take my brain out and replace it with one a hundred pounds lighter and supposedly more sane.”

A tentative chuckle leaked from her mouth, but Jake was having a hard time joining her in laughing over her little joke.

“That’s phenomenal. Your willpower must be amazing.” He reached over his untouched beer and took her by the hand, anxious to get even that much closer to her. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be.” She tugged at her hand halfheartedly. But when he didn’t let go, she stilled.

“Food was prime in my life.” She reached for the wineglass with her other hand. “Dr. Fortunata helped me see the truth. For years I used food to numb and distract myself.”

“Numb yourself? To what? Why would a sweet girl from a nice small town need to feel numb?”

Mary didn’t want to answer him. Couldn’t find the way. She made a big show of sipping wine instead.

In the meantime, familiar words kept circling through her mind. You’re no damned good, Mary Walsh. No one could ever love you. God only knows what I did to deserve a child like you. You’ll always be worthless and ugly. Get out of my sight.

“Okay,” Jake said in a hoarse whisper as he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “Maybe that question’s too personal for our very first conversation. But I like you a lot and I want to know more about you. Tell me about your family. I vaguely remember hearing something about a Walsh in the past few days… Was it on TV? A relation of yours?”

“My father.” Oh, boy. If Jake hadn’t run off screaming after learning she’d been a tubby all her life, finding out about her father was sure to do it.

“What happened to him?”

“They found his body. Someone murdered him.” Funny, but over the years she’d gotten used to saying that word. Murdered. It had taken almost fifteen years, but the sound of it no longer seemed nearly as horrific as it once did.

“How awful for you. Were you two close?”

What could she say that wouldn’t chase him off? Again, she had little choice but tell the truth. He was bound to find out sooner or later anyway.

“Not at all. In fact, I…everyone…thought that he’d died already. There’s a fellow in the state prison doing time for murdering him fifteen years ago.”

Jake sat back, but stayed in his seat. “That’s…uh…unusual. Where’s your father been all this time?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged one shoulder. “Your guess would be as good as anyone’s. And before you ask, I don’t have a clue why he would pretend to be dead.”

Probably because he was a lying playboy bastard, she thought grimly, but refused to say so. No doubt quite a few women would’ve been happy to see him suffer and die. Running from any of those women might’ve been an excellent reason for her father pretending to be dead.

Mary took a huge slug and finished off the wine. Jake motioned to the waitress again.

“I shouldn’t have any more. I’m still dieting and didn’t eat much today. I’m here at the librarians’ conference and we’ve been in meetings all day.” Not to mention that she normally didn’t drink.

Tonight would be the first for many things, she hoped.

Jake sat back and studied her while he played with his beer mug. “You’re embarrassed about your father being a murder victim. Don’t be. Not unless you killed him.”

“Me? I can’t even step on a spider.” Not that she hadn’t dreamed about killing her father many times over the years. Even after she felt convinced he was already dead.

The waitress brought her another glass of wine and Mary only stared at it as though it was a bug. Finally, she shook her head to break through her fog and picked it up. This was the start of her new life. What twenty-nine-year-old woman couldn’t manage a few glasses of wine?

“My old man embarrassed the hell out of me, too, while I was growing up,” Jake said, and Mary felt the tension between them easing. “He was an overbearing bastard. Bound and determined his son would grow up to be just like him—despite knowing damned well that I didn’t want any part of who he was.”

Mary reached out and laid a gentle hand on Jake’s arm. “I’m sorry. That’s hard. Who was he?”

“A survivalist. One of those crazed individuals who lives in the backwoods and stockpiles weapons, waiting for the day when the big, bad government will arrive for a showdown.”

“Oh, my gosh. Sounds like an awful way to grow up.” Mary’s heart turned a somersault in sympathy.

“He did teach me how to handle weapons. And I can survive on my own without the trappings of civilization.” Jake sounded as if he thought those things weren’t any big deal.

“But that wasn’t what you wanted. Was it?”

He took a swallow of what had to be by now warm beer, and then gazed at her as if she was the only person on the planet who mattered.

“Not me.” With a hollow-sounding laugh, he added, “I wanted to be involved in one of civilization’s biggest accomplishments—electronics. I wanted to learn how things work. How computers run. Why cell phones sometimes get signals and sometimes don’t. I thought engineering was magic and I was desperate to learn all those kinds of tricks.”

“Whoo boy. I bet your father hated that.” Their stories weren’t the same, but Mary was feeling connected to this man. A connection through their overbearing fathers.

“Yeah, he did. I got out from under his control at the first opportunity.”

She took a slow sip from her glass while trying to clear her head. “So, why are you in real estate and not electronics? “

Had she slurred a couple of those words? Maybe it was time for her to give up the wine. She set the glass back down on the table and tried to focus her eyes on Jake.

He wiped his hand across his forehead and then put his palm out as if he was unable to explain himself.

After a moment he said, “Commercial real estate is more lucrative. Electronics makes a better hobby.”

He’d opted for the money. Of course. She could certainly understand that. She was considering a change of jobs for the very same reason.

“You’re not married?” Jeez. She must be drunk.

“I’ve never had the pleasure.” His whole expression changed and he smiled as if she’d just handed him the moon—or a new BlackBerry. “So far, I haven’t found anyone who could love me.”

Think of that. They were like two nuts off the same branch. Mary felt as if she’d known him all her life.

The waitress arrived at the table. “Sorry. It’s closing time. The bartender says you can have one more round. But you’ll need to drink up.”

Jake turned to Mary and inclined his head as though it were totally up to her.

“No, thanks. I think I’ve had my limit.”

After the waitress took Jake’s money and left, Mary began to rise from her seat and said, “I can’t believe it’s 1:00 a.m. already. I…wish we had more time to talk.”

Talking wasn’t what she wanted, but she didn’t have the foggiest notion of how to ask him back to her room.

Jake jumped up from the table and helped her to her feet. “Let’s take our time going back to your room. We can talk on the way.”

Trying her best to keep the wide-eyed look of wonder off her face, she knew she was failing miserably. But she couldn’t help it. Everything she had ever wanted—ever dreamed about—was right here beside her.

And he was walking her back to her room.

Chapter 2

Jake’s mission couldn’t have been going any better if he’d written his target’s lines himself. After a couple of hours and several glasses of wine, he’d already piqued Mary’s interest enough that she’d allowed him to walk her back to her room. This night would be a great start to his plan—of becoming Mary’s boyfriend.

When she weaved from side to side down the hall, he slid his arm around her shoulders. She trembled slightly under the weight of his arm. Taking a deep breath, he caught the sweet smell of strawberries coming from her hair. A perfect scent for her. Like a field full of summer sunshine.

It made him want to pull her closer. Take her in his arms and kiss her until they both lost track of their senses. Until the smell of strawberries surrounded them in a cloud of lust.

Ahem. The mission always comes first.

Straightening up, he went over the things bothering him about this assignment—in addition to his unusual physical reactions to the target. The target—Mary. He’d never met anyone quite as guileless as she seemed. Like a naive teen, she appeared incapable of holding back or fudging the truth. Was it all an act? To his trained lawman’s eye she looked about as old as the twenty-nine that was listed as her age. Those minor laugh wrinkles at the corners of her eyes gave her away.

If she was putting on a gullible act for some reason, she sure as hell had him suckered in. But he was supposed to be a pro. This was his twelfth mission in ten years. Not his first.

Still, this mission marked the first time that he had actually given out his own background during an undercover operation. Not a smart move. Once a covert agent started mixing up his cover story with his own life history, the whole backstory he’d constructed might come crumbling down around him. He understood that well.

But she had been completely open with him about her relationship to her father. Open and embarrassed about letting him see that the murdered man was not someone she was sorry to see dead. Mark Walsh must’ve been difficult for her to deal with during their years together.

Jake thought about how a good covert agent twisted with the wind. Went with the flow. The truth about his own father had come tumbling from his lips in an effort to gain her sympathy. Then he’d had a hell of a time recovering when she’d asked him why he’d chosen to go into real estate.

Real estate. Why had he ever allowed Jim to talk him into that crazy cover? Yeah, yeah. Jake understood how real estate would be the perfect occupation, allowing a man on a mission to gain information. Real estate gave him plenty of excuses for snooping around. Just looking for potential property acquisitions.

But now, hell.

“We’re almost there.”

They were. A few more doors down the hall. And they had yet to say two words to each other on the way here.

Jake checked over his shoulder, still concerned that the earlier attack on him had some connection to his mission. But the hotel hallway was quiet. Not one soul in sight. His gut told him they were as isolated out in the hall as they would be inside her room.

Mary pulled the key card from her purse and stopped. She turned to him with the most hopeful expression on her face.

“This is it.”

She was beautiful. Her eyes sparkled with youthful anticipation. Her long, full hair dared him to run his hands through it—to lose himself in the satiny texture and heavenly scent. But could he stoop to taking improper advantage of her inebriated state? It wouldn’t be fair.

The mission always comes first.

It had been eons since she’d let a man kiss her, and in Mary’s memory those previous times had been…stressful. She’d wondered why she had ever thought to give it a second try.

But wasn’t that why she’d come to Bozeman in the first place?

She gazed up into Jake’s piercing blue eyes and saw a sizzle in them that made her all antsy and suddenly filled with unbearable longing. Oh, yeah. She was going to try kissing a man again. Now. Right now.

He bent his head, came within a whisper of her mouth and hesitated. It seemed as if he was giving her a chance to back out. Not a prayer of that happening.

Mary closed the gap between them and fell into heaven. Instead of his mouth being mashed to hers as had happened in her previous experiences, Jake toyed with her lips. He nipped at them, then licked his tongue across her bottom lip to soothe any small pain. The tip of his tongue touched the middle of her closed mouth tentatively as if he wanted her to open up for him.

She parted her lips, let his tongue enter and experienced pure bliss. He dug his fingers through her thick hair and pulled her closer. All of a sudden, the languorousness that had begun in her chest and tummy widened to encompass her limbs. Her fingers grew warm and limp. Her legs became weak and shaky.

As he tightened his hold she felt every inch of his hard body pressed against her softness. His erection pushed into her belly. A jolt zapped through her when she came to the amazing realization that she was the one making him hot. Outstanding.

Their tongues tangled again and the sensual awareness inside her grew to impossible heights. Her whole body began tingling. This was how a kiss was supposed to be. She’d read all about kisses and knew that at least some people liked the feelings that went along with a really good kiss. But she’d never imagined it could be like this.

Letting herself revel in the sensations, she noted the changes in her body’s temperature. From somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that sweat was starting to form at her temples. Her palms were becoming damp. Her panties were getting wet between her thighs.

The key card slipped from her fingers and hit the carpet.

“Oh.” She pulled her head back and then bent to pick up the key, but her knees refused to hold her up. “Oh.”

Crumbling to the floor, she felt flushed with embarrassment and regret. Surely no other woman had ever collapsed after their very best kiss ever and before they’d even made it to the bed. How ridiculous that she could be this much of a newbie at her age.

“You okay?” He reached out his hand to help her up.

“Um. I guess so.” If okay meant having the most amazing kiss of her whole life.

She tried to stand, but found her legs wouldn’t hold her up. “I can’t… I can’t…” Down she went again, landing on her backside.

When she began to laugh and cry at the same time, Jake took pity on her and reached down to haul her up in his arms. After all, it was his fault that she’d had too much to drink. He’d wanted her talking and in a good mood—not too drunk to stand up.

But he would never in a million years regret that kiss.

“The key card,” she said through giggles and tears.

His knees were almost too old for this kind of move, but he managed to hang on to her and at the same time bend to pick up the card.

“I’ve got it.” He opened the door and brushed them both inside.

Once inside he was at a loss for what to do with her. He didn’t figure she was in any shape to stand on her own two feet again. Her room was small. One queen-size bed. One nightstand and one dresser with a TV sitting on top. The lone chair in the room was shoved into a far corner under a minuscule desk. Straight-backed with no cushions, he couldn’t figure a way to place her upright in that chair without her sliding back to the floor.

Sighing, Jake walked to the bed and lowered her gently to a sitting position on the mattress. Steadying her, he stepped back and watched, making sure she didn’t hit the floor again.

She popped straight up like a Whac-A-Mole. He pushed at her shoulders until she went down on the bed again. She came right back up.

“Hey, aren’t you going to kiss me again?” She took a shaky step in his direction.

He took another step backward toward the door. “I think I’d better be going.”

“Not just yet.” She grinned at him and his whole body went rock-hard. “Um…um… Stay long enough to help me.”

He would be a lot better off simply making a run for the door; instead, Jake made the fatal mistake of asking, “Help you with what?”

Rocking uneasily on her feet, she reached for the hem of her sparkly orange, long-sleeved top and pulled it up and over her head in one move. Pitching the top into a corner, she turned back to him wearing nothing above the waist but a silky lace bra and a big smile. She tilted her head and stared at him as if to say, Help me and yourself, big boy.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” His voice was too steely and harsh for the situation. But he was at a loss as to how to change things.

She shook her head. “What am I doing?”

“Making it hotter than hell in here.” His mind was on a dangerous edge as he fought with dueling impulses.

He needed an out. Fast. Or an excuse to change the subject.

Fortunately, he’d spotted something to talk about while she’d had her back turned. It gave him a momentary reprieve and would be something to occupy her mind, he hoped.

“You have a tattoo on your shoulder.” He slid a little farther away and pointed. “What is that? A mermaid?”

“That’s Disney’s Ariel. I had her done last week. I think she’s kinda sexy. Do you like her?”

The mermaid tattoo did look like a kid’s cartoon character. It was sweet, but not the least bit sexy.

“She looks like you,” he managed. “With the red hair and all. But why her?”

“The tattoo was an effort to change. To become a new person.”

That sounded like just so much psycho babble to him. “And did you? Become a new person?”

Mary’s face flushed bright red. “Not yet. But Ariel is helping me on my journey to find the real me. I was hoping.” Her words stopped as her face paled.

Reaching a shaking hand toward him, she clutched her stomach with the other hand. “I was hoping you would help me, too.”

With that, whatever she’d eaten for the past twenty-four hours came back up her throat and spewed from her mouth. If he’d been a step closer, it would’ve gone all over him. As it was, the goo covered her pants and got on her shoes.

She started to cry in earnest. “I’m sooo sorry. Look at me. I’m a mess.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll help.” He couldn’t stop himself. He could no more leave her like this than he could play the violin. It wasn’t in him.

He took great care in carrying Mary into the bathroom and cleaning her up. After using a washcloth on her face, he splashed water into her mouth and let her swish toothpaste to rinse. When he was done, he helped her out of her shoes and pants and pitched them into the tub. He found a couple of aspirin in her bag on the back of the toilet and got them down her with a big glass of water. Then he carted her to the bed, threw the covers back and slid her between the sheets.

“Thank you. I’m grateful. But my head is still spinning.” She beamed up at him. “Are you going to join me? “

He shook his head and saw the shadow of disappointment cross her face. “Uh, I’d better clean up some more before I do anything else.”

“Don’t leave me, Jake. Please.”

“I won’t go far,” he promised. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. Rest is what you need most.”

It took him ten minutes to wet a couple of towels and clean up the carpeting. He threw the towels into the tub and filled it up with hot water to let everything soak.

When he arrived back beside the bed, Mary was sound asleep. He headed for the door. With his hand on the knob, he remembered his promise not to leave.

But she would be all right. He could sneak out and she would never notice he’d left until morning.

Then he made the mistake of turning back to look at her.

She looked peaceful now, but what if she had alcohol poisoning or something? Perhaps she could get sick again and choke to death before ever waking up.

He walked to the desk and dragged the tiny chair over beside the bed. Figuring he could sit here for a while, he decided he had nothing better to do tonight.

As Jake stared down into Mary’s sweet face, he remembered their kiss. He’d kissed a lot of women over the years. In fact, for five whole years of his life he had looked forward to sharing his wife’s kisses on a daily basis. But Tina had been gone for ten years, and at this point he couldn’t quite bring the memory of his dead wife’s kisses to mind anymore.

Was that disloyal? Jake couldn’t stand thinking about that possibility, or about Tina right now.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way Mary clung to him. The way her body had melded to his as if the two of them were destined to be together. As if they had been made for each other right from the beginning of time.

A stray curl of soft red hair had fallen over her cheek, and he reached over to push it behind her ear. Running his knuckles over ivory skin, Jake remembered how open she’d been. From the very beginning in the bar, she’d been willing to tell him anything.

She’d also been wide-open to his kisses. Gave him everything he asked for—and more. She was a hell of a good kisser, making him wonder who had taught her so well. Her file hadn’t listed a boyfriend or fiancé, but Jake felt sure that by the age of twenty-nine there must’ve been someone.

The thought of her file reminded Jake of his mission. He wouldn’t leave her for long, but he was overdue to check in with his partner.

Forcing his fingers away from her soft, smooth skin, Jake pulled the sheet up over her shoulders and tucked her in. He’d covered up the mermaid, but he didn’t think she would mind.

Smiling, he pocketed her key card and slipped out of the room. Seconds later he was down the outside stairs and in the parking lot, looking for a quiet place to make his call.

“What do you mean your assailant—the kid—got away?” His partner Jim was chuckling so loudly over the phone that Jake was afraid someone in the hotel might be able to hear him. “You can’t mean you’ve suddenly grown into such an old man.”

Stepping farther under a tall ponderosa pine, Jake gritted his teeth and backed into the shadows. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. What are you? All of two years younger than I am? Or maybe you’ve regressed to your teenage years while I’ve been away. At least I got in a clean shot at the kid. Broke his nose for sure.”

“If he was someone from Honey Creek, a broken nose won’t be hard to spot.” Jim’s silent grin shouted right through the receiver, even though he made every effort to hide it by clearing his throat. “How about the target? Mary Walsh. How’d your first contact go?”

Jake had to bite his tongue. No way would he tell his partner how unprofessional he’d been.

“Fine,” he said in a calm voice. “The new plan is going to work out great. In a couple of days I should be meeting everyone in town through her.”

Before Jim could ask anything else about Mary, Jake sent the conversation off in a slightly different direction. “I know the sheriff in Honey Creek is your old navy SEAL buddy, but are you sure he is definitely in the clear on the murder of our informant?”

“Wes Colton is so straight you could mistake him for a ruler.” Jim took a deep breath through his nose and Jake could imagine him tempering his irritation over the insolent question. “Wes isn’t involved in our money-laundering investigation. You and I already came to that conclusion. He’s provided us with solid information.”

Jake tsked at his partner’s lame excuses. “We’re talking about the murder of our main informant. You do remember that we’ve discussed the fact that Mark Walsh had a lot of enemies? His death could’ve been a crime of passion and not connected to our investigation at all. There’re several kinds of passion. Revenge, for one. Wes Colton’s brother has been sitting in the Montana State Prison for the past fifteen years for a crime he obviously did not commit. Sounds like a possible motive for murder to me.”

Jim grunted through the phone. “I’ve already checked on Wes’s whereabouts around the time of Mark Walsh’s murder, smart-ass. He was at Quantico, taking one of the Bureau’s weekend classes for local enforcement. He was back in time to haul the body out of the creek. But as a suspect? Nope, he’s not a possibility. Check the sheriff off your list.”

This time it was Jake who was holding back the chuckle. “Got it. Anything else?”

“Dead ends and false leads so far. But I’m working every detail. Keep me informed of how you’re doing in Honey Creek.”

Jake hung up and pocketed his phone. Taking one more exploratory trip around the hotel grounds, he checked for anything suspicious and came up empty.

He headed back to Mary’s room, hoping she hadn’t awakened while he’d been gone. After he’d slipped inside and checked to make sure she was still breathing, he emptied the bathtub and wrung out the towels. Mary’s clothes looked like a lost cause. He dumped them in a pile on the floor.

Then Jake took up residence in the straight-backed desk chair. One of the most uncomfortable places to sit in his memory.

But he kicked off his shoes and settled down to wait anyway. He wanted to watch her until the morning to assure himself that she was okay.

While he watched her sleeping, Jake vowed that he would use these hours to his best advantage. He would work to convince himself that the two of them could indeed have a romantic relationship without becoming intimate. He vowed to use her only up to a point. After all, a few things in life went far beyond his job description.

“No. No. No. Don’t make me.”

Jake practically jumped out of his seat and scanned the room for intruders. Early-morning light peeked around the edges of the curtains. No intruders.

Another noise drew his attention toward the bed. Mary was whimpering and flailing her arms in her sleep. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she cried out with unintelligible words.

“I hate you. Hate you!” Those words had been clear enough. He relaxed slightly, realizing she was having a nightmare.

In the next moment she twisted in her sheets and kicked fiercely. She screamed and he began to worry that she was becoming hysterical and might hurt herself. Mary then uttered words that drove a chill up Jake’s spine and sent him stumbling to her side.

“I wish you were dead. I swear I’ll kill you!”

Chapter 3

Strong arms closed around her, bringing Mary out of her nightmare with a start. Where was she? And who could be jumping her while she slept?

“Easy there. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you. It was only a bad dream.”

Jake. The cobwebs in her mind disappeared in a flash and she pasted herself to his body. If it had been possible to crawl right inside him, she would not have hesitated.

He cocooned her. Wrapped her in warmth and tenderness.

“Relax,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re safe.” Swallowing down the night’s terrors, Mary reached out toward his face to assure herself that this was no dream. She used her forefinger to trace his features, drawing a line from his high forehead down his Roman nose. Her fingers fanned across the strength in his jaw and in and out of the tiny cleft in his chin. She wanted to memorize every dip and ridge, every nuance.

The reality of being in bed with a sexy man was so much better than anything she had ever read in the pages of a book. She molded herself to him—tried to align their legs in perfect union.

His breathing became rough, uneven. She heard and it turned her to mush. She fisted her hands in his shirt and breathed in his exotic smell. All man. Masculine and exhilarating.

Jake eased back and gently rubbed his thumbs across her wet cheeks. “Okay? No more dream bad guys?”

More than okay, she felt totally wonderful. As though someone had poured a vat of warm chocolate over her. This was what she had been waiting for her whole entire lifetime.

He bent his head and placed his lips against her forehead. Nuh-uh. Not what she wanted from him at all.

Digging her hands in his hair, she pulled his head back and put his lips where she wanted them. On hers. Her tongue slid inside his mouth. The all-consuming flames instantly sprang between them, as she’d expected—as she’d hoped.

Sensation after sensation raged through her. Rainbows of bright colors. Textures and shapes, a tapestry of passion.

Frantic to touch him—everywhere—Mary kept half her brain concentrating on the taste of his mouth and on worrying his lips between her own. And with the other half of her fuzzy mind, she fought to open the buttons on his shirt. A button popped. Then something ripped. But the sounds only served to spur her on.

At last she reached her goal, warm skin and chest hair. The sensation of wiry hair against her fingertips was erotic. She wanted to plant her lips there, replacing her fingers. She needed a taste of him. Of all of him. The pulse right below the surface at the base of his neck would be a great place to start. His salty skin and all those fascinating hidden ridges and creases came next.

“You’re killing me here.” He dragged his mouth from hers, panting hard.

Through his sensual haze, Jake knew his breathing wasn’t the only thing growing hard. She was too close. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember why they shouldn’t be doing this.

“Am I hurting you? “

Exasperated, Jake pried her fingers off his shirt and placed her hand against the hard ridge lying under the zipper of his pants. “What do you think?”

“Oh.” Her voice was deep, flirty. “Then don’t stop now.”

Before he could stop her, she began lowering his zipper. The sound mesmerized him. Like someone scratching their way out of a dilemma. His every sense went on alert. The feel of her luxurious hair against his skin. The sound of her breathing coming from her mouth in small pants. When she looked up into his eyes, he saw fire.

He felt something inside him clutch, then give way. He’d seen her willingness. Her longing. Through her sensitive touch he’d found she not only had gentleness and passion, but empathy as well.

It had been a long damned time since he’d wanted anything—anyone this badly.

His erection popped free. Mary sighed deeply and took him in hand. Her obvious pleasure at touching him was contagious. He rolled her to her back and ran his hands down her rib cage and up to cup her breasts.

Her mouth brushed over his briefly, setting fires where she kissed. Just enough to burn through any of his remaining boundaries. He covered her mouth and kissed her back relentlessly. Her lips and tongue stoked the flames of his desire and burned any questions or regrets away like so many cinders blowing in the wind.

“Mary.” A single word. A single breath.

And he was lost.

The blood coursed through his veins, leaving his brain and rushing to his extremities. He was out of control. Defenseless against his own needs.

Desperate, he slid her arms free of the bra, pulled it to her waist and then filled his hands with her lush flesh. Her breasts were firm and as soft as rose petals. As he thumbed over the nubby tips, her chest rose and fell. She moaned through pursed lips. His fingers had found perfection, but his mouth hungered for its turn.

He lowered his head to take what he wanted. When his mouth closed over the hard and pebbled peak of one breast, she arched upward with a gasp. Pulling her deeper into his mouth, he laved his tongue back and forth over her nipple. It grew harder—and so did he.

Ignoring the growing ache in his groin, he kept his attention focused on Mary, on her reactions to his moves. As he moved to the other breast, she whimpered and moved restlessly under him. He took a nip of the tip, just a tiny bite. She jumped but made it clear she liked what he was doing, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and holding him right where she wanted. Blowing air over her to both soothe and stir, he kissed and suckled her breasts until she begged.

“Jake, please. I want…I want…”

Yes, Jake knew what she wanted and was determined to please them both. Why he shouldn’t seemed lost in a haze of need and desire.

He flattened the palm of his hand on her belly and felt her muscles quivering under his touch. Inching his fingers beneath her panties, he soon reached his goal—all that glorious heat in the lush curls at the center of her thighs. He brushed aside any silky material standing in his path. With her help he pulled the undergarment down and off, frantic that nothing should stand between them.

He shoved his own slacks out of the way with one hand while he used the other to stroke and torture. Her thighs fell open and she lifted her hips off the bed. Finding her already wet and hot, he bent his head and dipped his tongue into her sweetness.

Mary groaned, struggled and urged him back up her body. He obliged her, blazing kisses over her belly and across the valleys and curves of her body. Then she reached down and gripped him with both her hands, using a gentle touch that drove him wild.

He jerked and went rigid. Her touch ruled his moves. But he didn’t want gentle from her. His whole body felt like molten lava and Jake knew he couldn’t last much longer. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands up over her head.

Looking into her face, he found her glazed eyes fixed on him. “Now, Jake,” she said through a sob. “I beg you. Hurry.”

She lifted her hips, inviting him inside. With a last bit of clarity, he reached into his pants pocket for his wallet. He found the silver-wrapped condom and had it freed and installed within seconds.

Moving over her again, he let the tip of his erection nudge her swollen flesh. She writhed. Whimpered. He leaned his hips forward, brushing his length against her for a second time while she cried out her pleasure.

The sound enflamed him, engulfed him, as blood pulsed and pooled in the part of him begging for quick release. His own ragged breathing blocked the tiny niggles of guilt already building deep inside his chest.

When he brushed her entrance for a third time, she bucked upward. Her whole body pleaded for him as she rubbed herself against his length and called out his name. Every inch of her wept with wanting, and she begged him to hurry.

With amazing self-control, Jake gently pressed his hard length inside her entrance. Testing. He needed this to be good for her. Better for her than for him.

Her internal opening surrounded him with tiny tremors. Like welcome-home hugs. Hearing her making explicit noises of pleasure, he pressed a little deeper into the shock waves. But he wanted her to be just as wild with need as he was. With some regret he made a slow withdrawal, only seconds later to inch forward again.

She tensed but murmured encouragement. Her body was like a warm, welcoming paradise, tight and wet. The greatest gift he’d ever been offered. He pushed deeper, trying not to rush.

Feeling her body start to contract around him, he slid himself farther toward ecstasy. So hot. Slick. Tight.

Just before he succumbed to the madness, it hit him. Too tight. There might not be any barrier, but no one had ever come this way before. He suddenly knew for certain that he was the first.

Her first? Was it possible?

He used the last bit of his resolve to lean up on his elbows and look down at her. Her face was the picture of abandon. Her hair a wild carpet spread out across the pillows.

This was too big a gift for him to take without words.

“Mary.”

Not sure he could stop if she asked him to, he still felt he had to try. Had to say something.

She’d closed her eyes and arched her neck, pushing her engorged breasts up invitingly. He tried not to look. Fought to forget their sweet taste.

“Mary, listen to me.” Desperation colored his efforts.

“Please. Please. Please.” She undulated her hips and threw her legs over his thighs, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Mary, look at me.”

Her head swung back and forth. Her arms went around his back, trying to urge him down into her. He wanted what she seemed to want. To slam his body into hers and bring them to the quick ending they both craved. Why did he hesitate? It was a hell of time for another attack of conscience, but he was already up to his ears in guilt. He had to keep trying to make her listen.

Jake fisted his hands in her hair and forced her attention. “Are you sure? Sure it’s me you want? You don’t even know me.”

She stared up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted and her chest heaving. His mouth went dry as she bit on her bottom lip and tried to smile.

“Time doesn’t matter. I know you,” she managed on a hoarse laugh. “I chose you because you’re a good person. A kind and careful soul who cares about being somebody’s first.”

Jake started to shake his head, to deny what she’d said. He was far removed from anyone who resembled such a description. But she didn’t know it. Couldn’t know it.

Her internal canal began convulsing around him, milking him and seducing him to complete the lesson. “Mary. Damn it. I can’t do this.”

“Shush. Jake, please. I’m so close to something and I know it’s going to be spectacular. Please…”

She didn’t have time to complete her plea because Jake gave in to the temptation jolting through him. Dripping with sweat, he thrust hard into her and embedded himself to the hilt. He couldn’t think. Could only let go.

Could only cry out when he felt the contractions take her and she screamed his name in pleasure. He pumped hard into each one of her rolling earthquakes.

Faster and faster. Higher and higher. Until they were each a sobbing, shouting explosion.

As one, they shuddered and fell over the edge. Together in body—if not in mind.

Amazing.

Sprawled over the bed, tangled in Jake’s arms and legs, Mary waited for her heart rate to slow. She couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable.

Why hadn’t she known about this before? But then again, she hadn’t met Jake before now. Grateful. Yes, totally grateful that she’d waited for him, she turned her head to make sure he was all right. His skin was damp, glistening with sweat. And his breathing was as erratic as her own.

“Thank God,” she murmured.

Jake opened his eyes and rolled to look at her. “For what?”

“Thank God you were the first.”

He shifted to one side, pulled her snugly against him and pressed a kiss to her hair. “You could’ve told me.”

She laid a palm on his chest, felt the pulse beat of his heart. “What? That I was a twenty-nine-year-old virgin? And how long would you have stuck around after hearing that?”

His chuckle rumbled up through her hand. “Maybe you’re right. And I would’ve hated missing what just happened here.”

“See? I have a lot of strikes against me. And I wanted you. Badly.”

“I wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “I saw you in that sparkly orange top and nearly swallowed my tongue.”

“It’s burnt umber, not orange. Red-haired women aren’t supposed to wear orange.” But this red-haired woman was going to wear that top as much as possible from now on.

She started to turn over but winced with the discovery that lots of interesting places on her body ached.

Jake’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “I didn’t even manage to get your bra all the way off. Hell of a way for a first time to go.”

He rolled out of bed, ripped off his own rumpled shirt and then reached back and undid her bra. She started to follow him to her feet, but he put his hand down and held her still.

“Hold on. I know what you need right now.” He slid his hands under her body and lifted her into his arms. “Let me take care of you.”

Feeling like a princess, like her little mermaid, Mary grinned into his shoulder as she threw her arms around his neck and hung on.

He carried her into the bathroom and stepped with her into the bathtub. Then he turned on the shower tap, thankfully warm. The spray covered them in a shower of liquid calm.

Slowly, Jake lowered her down his body to stand on her own shaky legs. “Hang there a second.” He kept one arm tightly around her and reached for the soap. “You’re going to find out that good sex is always messy, Miss Mary Ariel.”

“I like the sound of that. I wish my parents had called me Ariel. Maybe I’ll change my name.” Along with her whole life—starting tonight.

He placed a wet kiss on the mermaid’s face and Mary laughed, feeling careless and coy.

The bar of soap rubbing across her breasts made her nipples tighten. Did he notice? Jake never changed the motion. His knuckles brushed the soft undersides of her breasts. He ran his hands down her spine and around her backside. He seemed intent on smoothing soap bubbles over her skin and she wasn’t sure he was paying attention.

Until…he reached between her legs. His touch was as light as a cloud, and he bent his head to place gentle lips against her wet temple.

An electric buzz rushed through her veins like a warm wind. Desire, close to the surface since their first kiss, kicked off her pulse again. Her heart pounded with the need, the heat.

“Jake.” The word was only a whisper of sound. A plea. A question.

But it didn’t have the desired effect.

He pulled his hand away and stepped back, studying her under the spray. Suddenly she felt more embarrassed than she had in her whole life and raised both palms to cover her breasts. No man had ever seen her stark naked before. It was one thing to have sex in bed—in the dark. It was quite another to be faced with full-frontal nudity under the bathroom’s fluorescent light.

Jake’s eyes clouded over and instead of ice blue, they looked gray and unfocused. “That’s it.” He handed her the soap, turned his back and pushed aside the shower curtain ready to step out of the tub.

“Is it me?” she asked quietly. “Now that you’ve seen me in the light are you regretting what we did?”

He shook his head, then turned back and reached for her. “Maybe I have some guilt. But I’ll never regret one moment of what we did. Don’t ever think that. You are a gorgeous woman. And if I had a choice.”

Pulling her close, he lasered a kiss across her lips. A kiss that spoke of need and desperation. A kiss that spoke of tomorrow.

By the time he let her go, his breathing was coming in hard pants and his erection was poking her in the stomach. “You’re going to be sore for a couple of days. You have lots of time left in your future to experience everything. Let’s take things slow for now.”

She sighed but nodded her acceptance of his decision. It wasn’t her first choice but if he could wait, so could she.

Jake stepped from the tub. “Take your time. When you get out we’ll have breakfast before we each head back to Honey Creek.”

He put a towel over the bar for her to use after the shower. “This is the only dry cloth left in the room, and it’s all yours. I’ll air-dry. Oh, and when you get out of the shower, you might want to make a decision about your clothes.”

“My…?”

He grinned and pointed to the pile by the sink.

“My new silk pants? And my brand-new heels? They look ruined.” The pants would probably be easy to replace, though she regretted the heels.

“Sorry you picked last night to wear your new clothes.”

“All my clothes are new.” Hmm. That sounded a little too sharp and full of self-pity and it wasn’t how she truly felt. “Besides, those clothes were lucky for me.”

“I told you never to call me here.”

At the same time as Mary was stepping from the shower, Truman was making lame excuses.

“But, boss, I’m using a pay phone outside the Bozeman hospital E.R. No one will find out.”

The boss tried to keep sudden anger and frustration from spilling over through the phone. “I’m not paying you to get your nose broken. I wanted you to follow that new guy around for a while and report back on his behavior. What’s the idea of jumping him?”

Groaning, Truman raced to explain, “He looked like he was spying on somebody. I only wanted to scare him off. Make him regret he came to our part of the country.”

“Yeah? And that worked out so well, didn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault.” Truman’s whining voice set nerves to jangling. “He’s gotta be some kind of pro.”

The idea wasn’t a novel one. “I’m beginning to believe you’re right. I thought at first he was a private investigator and I wanted to know who hired him. I’m more convinced now that he’s probably a fed. DEA or FBI maybe. Makes me think I’d better bring in a pro myself.”

Truman issued a laugh, but the sound rang hollow and too loud across the line. “You get him, boss. What do you want me to do next?”

“Go on vacation.”

“But, boss.”

“Get out of the area. Go to Florida for a while. I don’t want to see your face around here until your nose heals. Is that clear?”

If it wasn’t clear, the boss figured the pro he hired could take care of Truman the same way as he would take care of the undercover agent in their midst.

Permanently.

Chapter 4

“Ow!” Mary rammed her hip into the book cart for the third time this morning.

Darn it. Why couldn’t she watch where she was going? After all, she’d been employed as the assistant librarian here at the Honey Creek library for the past eight years. Certainly by now she should know where everything was located.

Absolutely nothing had been going right. Not since she and Jake had parted ways last Saturday morning in the parking lot of the Bozeman hotel. That morning had been so hopeful—so full of promise. They’d exchanged cell phone numbers and had stolen a few public kisses.

He’d said he would call. But her friend Susan told her that was what they all said.

Not in romance novels. In her favorite books the couples might have their troubles, but things always worked out in the end. If a hero said he would do something, he did it. The heroic characters she’d read about in romance novels were what had given her the idea that a man could be trusted.

Not that she’d had many examples of that in real life.

Nothing her father had ever said was the truth. He’d cheated on her mother. He’d probably cheated his business partners and friends. He’d even cheated about his own death.

Jake was not like her father. Yet Jake had said he would call, and here it was a rainy Tuesday morning and no word yet.

Why couldn’t she get over what had happened between them? Yes, he’d been her first lover and she knew a woman’s first was supposedly a big deal. But this yearning to make love to him all over again seemed to have put her under a spell. A strong and unyielding spell. Was that natural? Being reckless wasn’t like her. Or at least not like the person she used to be.

If she could just see him again. Maybe she would discover that he wasn’t everything she remembered. Maybe.

A squeal of delight coming from the children’s book section caught Mary’s attention. She started walking that way to find out which book had enthralled the little girl.

One of the biggest changes Mary wanted to make in her life was having kids. She wanted one, or maybe two—or three. Now that she’d lost the weight and it was possible to think about such things, it seemed children were on her mind a lot.

As she passed by the computer stations, empty at this hour, she fought the urge to stop and look up Jake Pierson. To check up on his background. But she would never do that without telling him first. It seemed dishonest.

“Mary, may I speak to you a moment?” Mrs. Banks, the head librarian, motioned from her office.

Mary changed course and headed her way. She’d been meaning to have a serious conversation with her boss for the past couple of days. Ever since she’d decided to change her whole life. But, well, the time had never seemed quite right.

Mrs. Banks ushered her into the tiny office and shut the door behind them. “Have a seat, Mary. I’d like to tell you something. My husband has decided to retire from his job and he wants us to move to Arizona. He likes the weather there.”

“No kidding?” Mary couldn’t imagine living anywhere else but Honey Creek. This was home. All her family and friends were here, along with everything else she knew and loved.

Mrs. Banks put her hand up as if she was about to say something profound. “I gave three weeks’ notice to the Library Board last night. They asked me to suggest my replacement.”

Mary began shaking her head before her boss even finished her thought.

Mrs. Banks must’ve noticed the denial in Mary’s expression because she gave her the cordial smile of a long-time business comrade. “I know you don’t have the credentials, Mary. But if you really want the job, I’ll go to bat for you.”

Mary’s boss had been her mentor from the beginning, and Mrs. Banks must’ve assumed Mary wanted what she wanted. She did not.

“You could always get your master’s degree in Library Science while you worked,” Mrs. Banks added. “It’ll be difficult to accomplish both at the same time in this small town, but it’s possible.”

“Thanks.” Mary’s mouth rushed to say something else, but her mind was lagging as she fought to find the right words. “But…I… I’ve been meaning to tell you…I’ve been thinking about quitting myself.”

Mrs. Banks raised eyebrows expressed what she thought of that idea. “You don’t want to work at the library anymore? What will you do?”

Good question. One Mary had been mulling over for weeks. “I have a few ideas. But I was hoping for a little time to check things out.”

“Does this have anything to do with the authorities finding your father’s body last week?”

“No.” And that was the truth. Her father had nothing whatever to do with her wanting to make some changes. After all, she’d lost over a hundred pounds on her own—before his body had been found for the second time.

“I see. Then I can tell the board to look for someone else?”

Mary nodded, but bowed her head rather than face the disappointment in Mrs. Banks’s eyes.

“Okay then. A young woman who used to live in Honey Creek recently contacted me about a job.” Mrs. Banks’s expression was thoughtful. “I’ll check on her qualifications. In the meantime, Mary, if you need a few days off, the best time would be during the next couple of weeks. While I’m still here and can watch over a temp.”

Mary agreed to take time off, starting tomorrow, and then she left her boss’s office as quickly as possible. Now she’d done it. Big changes would be coming at her fast. Whether she was ready for them or not.

Outside the Honey Creek library at 5:00 p.m. on a drizzly Tuesday evening, Jake leaned against his rental SUV and waited for Mary to get off work.

Torn between duty and his awakening feelings for Mary, Jake had spent the better part of four days secretly meeting with the Honey Creek sheriff and assuring himself that Mary had absolutely nothing to do with Wes’s current murder investigation. Somewhere along the line, Jake had found himself hoping he’d been totally wrong about Mary and that she was the murderer. That notion would be infinitely better than the idea of her as an innocent bystander that he was using for his investigation.

But no. Mary was exactly what she seemed.

Sweet. Naive. Trusting. And no longer a virgin, due to his asinine lack of self-control.

A trickle of cold summer rain eased down the back of Jake’s neck, but he shook it off. He deserved to stand in a frozen hell for what he’d done to Mary—for what he intended to do.

His head came up when he spotted her at the library’s front door. She was opening an umbrella and making her way down the stairs past the building’s wide white columns.

Damn, but she was pretty. Even wet and dressed in a plain gray dress that seemed suitable only for a librarian. The sight of her made things twist inside him, and that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for her to come closer. It was starting to register in his idiot’s mind that Mary might be in real danger. Honey Creek had at least one murderer lurking about. And Jake’s gut was telling him that whether or not Mark Walsh’s death and his own money-laundering investigation were linked, one murder could easily become two.

He’d been trying to narrow down the possible suspects, but found it difficult without knowing the people involved. He’d come to the conclusion that the best plan was to meet the various townsfolk. Maybe he could gain access to a couple of their personal computers and files.

And what better way to accomplish those goals than in the company of a beautiful, sexy woman—who might be in need of a protector?

But he swore there would be no more intimate nights. No more erotic touches and starry-eyed kisses. His conscience couldn’t take it.

“Jake?” Mary stood a few feet away in the rain, staring up at him. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were the color of a pale ale today and clouded with questions.

He wished he could give them to her. “Waiting for you. And hoping you’ll come to dinner with me.”

“That would be nice. But where have you—”

Gathering her in his arms, he rushed her around the car and seated her in the passenger seat before she could change her mind—or ask any difficult questions. He didn’t want to give her a chance to think too much. Not about dinner. And especially not about him.

By the time he’d slipped behind the driver’s wheel, she was buckling up and placing her wet umbrella on the floor mats under her feet.

He turned the ignition key and brought the car to life. “I thought we’d go to Kelley’s Cookhouse for barbecue. That okay with you? “

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her rolling her eyes before she asked, “You sure that’s where you want to go? My best friend’s family owns the place and we’re likely to run into everyone in town I know.”

He’d already started the car, but now he put it into neutral and stepped on the brake. “Mary…Ariel…” He reached over, captured her hand and tried a sincere smile. “I want to meet your friends and family. I want us to learn everything there is to know about each other. Give me a chance?”

Mary’s flip-flopping heart had landed back in her chest by the time they’d driven the three blocks to Kelley’s. The rain was easing up, but her fascination with Jake grew greater with every passing moment.

Of course, she would give them a chance to get better acquainted. He didn’t even need to ask. Otherwise, how would she ever know for sure if he was the one or not?

After he was introduced to all her crazy family and friends, she would find out if he still wanted to stick around. Or…if by then he was ready to run away—either laughing himself sick or screaming in terror. It would be a good test.

Unbuckling her seat belt, she watched him closely. She was having some trouble believing he was for real. The moment she’d spotted him outside the library, she’d begun pinching herself to be sure she wasn’t dreaming. He was almost too good to be true.

After they climbed out of his SUV and headed toward the restaurant’s front door, Mary’s sister Lucy appeared on her way out. Lucy’s arms were loaded down with take-out food packages.

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