“What are you thinking of, smiling like that, Nikki?”
Surprised, she looked up at Agent Erik Jones. She shook her head and shrugged. “Daydreaming.” She didn’t think her mystical ideas would make sense to anyone but herself. And she certainly wasn’t going to share her
other
thoughts.
“Who wouldn’t around these tomes?” Erik looked at the pile of books and documents before her on the desk. “What are you researching? Can I help?”
Nikki shook her head again. “No, not really.”
Erik pulled up a chair and sat by her. “Is this for the recruit program or your story?” He grinned back when she smiled at him. “Hey, I’m not that stupid, you know. You’re mostly going through this for your research, right? And you somehow jumped over some huge hurdles with the help of Task Force Two’s O.C.”
There was a curious light in his eyes, inviting her to explain. “What are you saying?” she asked, keeping her voice light.
“Can I ask you something?”
“All right.”
“Are you an agent after Harden?”
Nikki picked up her pen. “Is that a theory or a suspicion?” she asked, giving him a sideways glance.
“It would make a good plot, don’t you think?” Erik asked casually.
“Yes, it would.”
“So is your heroine after the hero, then?”
Nikki hid her smile. The young operative sounded like her conversations with Rick. “I thought I told you my heroine was going to save the hero, remember?”
Erik rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Yeah, I remember now.” He propped a hand under his chin. “Do you remember your first day in the recruitment program?”
“Yes.” She knew he was digging for information, but she didn’t mind. He was an eager and impatient young man, wanting to excel. “You were telling us your new job. You said you just transferred into the Directorate of Administration.”
“Well, actually I wanted to transfer to the Directorate of Intelligence but they told me they wanted me with administration.”
“Because you’re good with details,” Nikki said, recalling his introduction from that day.
“Yes, but I would rather work with data than supplies. Like your hero, for instance. You wouldn’t want him in administration, would you? You would want him in Intel, in charge of covert secrets and all the exciting stuff.”
“I think every directorate is important in itself,” Nikki replied, trying to see what he was up to. “Intel is nothing without administrative work.”
“Oh yeah, it’s so great to be the one who sends out the micro-eyes and the secret gadgets,” Erik retorted wryly. “You really need a brain to make sure each department gets the type of computers they requested, or that the shipment of arms go to the right agency. I thought working in encryption was pretty bad, but where I am now is worse.”
Nikki looked down at her unfinished report, then back at Erik. “What do you want to do, Erik? You can still transfer to Intel.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to get on Agent Harden’s good side because I want to transfer to Task Force Two, or at least be considered for it.” He glanced down at the paperwork and added, “I know something is going down because being in administration, I see all the stuff being shuttled back and forth. Today, for instance, is a big day, isn’t it? Some sort of review board is going to meet later this afternoon, and it has to do with Harden and Task Force Two.”
Nikki smiled. “Are you looking to me for clues? You seem to be able to find a lot on your own already, Erik.”
“But you want material to save your hero, right? In the romance, I mean.” His eyes were alert and bright, an eager smile on his lips. His fingers drummed the table impatiently.
“Why don’t you talk to the right people about this?” Nikki asked, studying the younger man closely. “There must be a dozen more important people than me.”
Erik shrugged. “I can’t reach Agent Harden, not with EYES all over the place on him and his offices. I sent an urgent message to him but maybe his secretary lost it in the mess. I can’t tell Denise, who dated him for a while, because she won’t answer my calls, either. My superiors think I don’t have enough experience. I can help Agent Harden but no one wants it.”
“So you come to me?”
He shrugged again. His fingers beat a rhythm while he spoke, as if he were seeing some sequence of events in his mind. “Okay, so I got tired of other people having fun. I read everything that passed through, just for the hell of it. Then I found files Intel and some other departments have been requesting about you. It’s easy to read the files when you’re delivering them, you know.
“They’ve been busy checking you out, Nikki, so I know you aren’t just a writer. You’re an outside contractor hired by Admiral Madison, and no one in here is happy with your presence. I know they’re looking for some stuff to use against you but your background before the last ten years comes back empty. I said to myself, that is weird, things don’t come up blank in a thorough data search unless they’ve been delib
erately wiped out.” He paused his busy fingers and scrutinized Nikki. “How am I doing with the heroine so far?”
Nikki returned his gaze calmly. He was quite good at connecting data. “Perhaps Intel suits you better.”
Erik grinned. “Wish you would tell somebody for me. Denise said she might consider me as her trainee but I think she’ll tire me out.”
The implication was fairly obvious and she arched a brow at him. With his head propped nonchalantly and that open smile, he didn’t seem Denise’s type. She gave him a critical all-over examination, noting the clear blue eyes, the straight nose, and the stubborn jaw. He was a potentially good asset, a bit young, but with more pluses than minuses.
“You don’t approve,” Erik remarked, and he sounded a little surprised.
“I don’t disapprove or approve. I don’t even know you, Erik,” Nikki pointed out.
“But the look you gave me—”
“I was breaking you down piece by piece in my head, picturing you as an asset, the way Intel would see you. You won’t be a person, Erik, but an asset, and I was merely seeing how best to use your talents.” He frowned at her as she continued gently, “We both know there are many different levels of Intel work. You seemed to have decided to go with either Agent Harden’s section or Agent Lorens’s and they are both useful to the department. Are you sure, at your age, you’re thinking with your head when you’re…training with Denise Lorens?”
He straightened defensively. “Agent Harden started the same way.”
She was seeing patterns of hero worship in Erik for Harden. She understood Rick’s background would be a tempting lure for young men who thought that kind of life easy. Rick’s past record of commitment before his demotion had been exemplary.
“I don’t think…” Nikki paused to choose her words carefully, “that the heroine would approve of that kind of hero.”
“Oh come on, James Bond slept around.”
She had to smile at that. “Erik, I can’t stop you if you want to live like James Bond. Why come tell me this, if you’re already so sure that’s going to be your life—hundreds of women and gadgets left and right?” She supposed that was what all young men wanted. She wondered whether that was how Rick was and her mirth died a little. No, he did love one woman. “So you’ve decided to use sex to get information.”
Erik lowered his voice. “I know there are moles in the agency. I can find out Gorman’s contacts at both the Directorates of Intel and Administration. It’s easy for me to pull out the files to check the dates and different orders of equipment, but I don’t have the time to look at everything on my own. This is big, Nikki, and you’re the one who can do something—give me the time to break the encryption and prove that I can really do this.”
She could tell he really believed he had found evidence. His motive was to make a big splash for himself. Erik Jones was an ambitious young operative indeed. “How do you know your info is correct and will be where you’re looking?”
“I didn’t sleep with Denise Lorens and not learn some things,” he scolded mildly.
Nikki didn’t really want to know what Denise had or hadn’t taught Erik Jones. The young man needed a strong guiding hand, and without it, he would run rampant chasing dreams. “I can’t promise you anything, Erik,” she said. “I’ll be watching the whole thing from another room before they call on me. I can’t move in and stop the proceedings. I don’t have the authority. My role as an independent contractor is merely to observe and draw conclusions in my report on these observations. I know EYES think I’m investigating them and Agent Harden, as well as the whole agency, but that is just their paranoia.”
Erik Jones looked a little deflated. “Shit. Nothing is ever as it seems.”
She patted him on the shoulder. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. “It never is, in Intel. Tell me something, Erik.
Why do you try so hard to emulate Agent Harden’s past? You don’t have to be like him to be successful.”
He shifted in his seat, no longer as cocky as before. “I don’t know. It’s sort of cool to do everything he did, and be good at it.” He pointed at her paperwork again. “You’re good, too, or the department would have found a way to get rid of you immediately. What do you do exactly, Nikki? When you’re not writing romances, of course.”
She thought of all the work she had put into finding out Rick’s past. The deal she had with the admiral about her own. She thought of Gorman’s threats hanging over her man. So much hung in the balance because of the past. “I look for hungry ghosts,” she answered quietly. “I feed them and put them to rest.”
At Erik’s puzzled expression, she explained, “As you said, nothing is ever as it seems, but the truth will surface if we look hard enough. Now, what have you got for me, Agent Jones?”
N
ikki went through the next course in the recruitment program, observing the different ways recruits were targeted for various departments, once they passed the relevant tests. The first time she had gone through this, she was part of the race for a position. Fresh and untrained, she had been molded into what they wanted. Now she could see how someone like Gorman or a person working for him would pick the “right” person for his agenda. After a while, a whole task force would be made up of key people with certain personalities.
She thought of all the files she had gleaned of those working in Task Force Two. Cameron Candeloro, easygoing slacker, good at taking orders, excellent at weapons but seemed to prefer a desk job. Cole Armstrong, consistent but not persistent, nine-to-five, good at taking orders, two censures in his report, trained in electronics. The rest of the team shared certain similarities. They all had censures in their reports that made them eager to follow orders. They all had a certain mentality about their job—good at it but not aggressive in their ambition. They were all smart, with different talents. Gorman would, of course, identify these qualities if there were any questions about his choices.
The only person who didn’t quite fit the order was Ricardo Harden. He was a driven, goal-oriented operative before his demotion, and then languished for several years behind a desk. How that must have hurt him. Yet he had molded himself into what he was today, and Gorman had
picked him to be his O.C. Why? There was a link here, she was sure of it. She wondered what Gorman had on Rick.
She knew things looked bad for Rick. First, Gorman and Rick’s relationship went back more than ten years. While Rick was demoted and stuck where he was, Gorman had steadily gone up the bureau ladder until he became director of Task Force Two. His appointment of Rick was seen as a friend helping out an old friend. Now Gorman was in jail and determined to make a deal with the DOD by giving the names of his co-conspirators. Internal Investigations was determined to find this list before anything went public.
She moved down the hallway, deep in thought. The moment she turned the corner, she already knew she was being followed. She didn’t need to turn around to see who it was.
There were people moving in and out of the offices, and some of them greeted the man following her. She turned another corner, hoping for an interruption. There were things she couldn’t say, and she was afraid they would spill out unbidden. He had that kind of effect on her.
She heard him answer some questions, but his voice was getting nearer as if he was lengthening his strides. There would be no interruptions.
She stepped into the emergency stairway. He came through the doors a few seconds later. Tall. Brooding. She licked her lips nervously. His green eyes settled on her mouth.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she said softly. There wasn’t much room on the landing, not with him standing in front of her. Disliking the disadvantage of his height, she backed up a few steps of the staircase behind until she stood a few inches taller, looking down at him. Much better.
His lips quirked and amusement flickered across his face. He placed one hand on the banister, blocking her with his body. Another hand reached out, slipping under the heavy knot of hair. He massaged her neck as he drew her face down.
“We don’t have to talk,” he murmured.
His lips met hers so softly that she instinctively leaned into him. He stayed where he was, barely touching her, teas
ing with the warmth of his body. She opened her mouth for him, but he didn’t kiss her back.
Standing passively, his hand massaging her neck, he seemed contented with the light contact. She caught her breath when his tongue flicked at her upper lip. She waited for more, aching for his possession. His hand slid around her neck and his thumb caressed the quickening pulse there. She leaned even closer, wanting his arms around her, needing to fill her mouth with the taste of him.
“Rick,” she said against his lips, finally unable to stand his silent teasing.
“Hmm?”
Realizing that he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted, she tugged on his lapels, pushing his lips apart with hers. He took a step back and she gasped, the move catching her by surprise. Falling forward, she hung on to him, and he supported her weight as he opened his mouth for her, the hand caressing her neck holding her securely.
It became clear that Rick would only let her feel safe momentarily before he took charge again. He had allowed her to stand taller to make her point, but it was she who was leaning on his solid frame now. She didn’t care. In the back of her mind, she understood it had to do with trust, that he needed to be in control.
Tentatively she entered his mouth, her tongue touching his shyly. He tasted hot and sweet, addictive. She wanted more. Feeling bolder, she delved deeper. His tongue lazily danced with hers, slowly seducing. She liked kissing him. He made her forget everything except the tangling of their tongues, and he continued to tease her, allowing her to be the aggressor as she probed and tasted, reveling in her new role.
Feeling the zipper at the back of the dress slowly sliding down, she broke off. Breathless, she realized how far she had leaned forward, his glittering green eyes inches from her own. The heat in them echoed the fever burning her up. How could one kiss do this?
“Rick,” she protested, in a whisper.
His hand slid into her dress, played with her bra strap. “I
need to feel you. I was thinking about you last night,” he said softly. “I wanted to undress you, put you in my bed. You wouldn’t be wearing a bra to your conferences today. Or—”
“Rick,” she interrupted, flushing at his words, “you were busy last night, anyway.”
The heat in his eyes cooled but his hand inside her dress caressed her bare back. “I didn’t sleep with her, Nikki.”
“I know.”
His eyes searched hers. “We will have to compare notes someday.” His voice was dry, with a tinge of amusement. “What we know, and what we don’t, about each other. Right now, it seems like everyone knows more about me than I myself.”
“Did Denise really carry out her threat?” Nikki asked, her mind racing at the possibilities of what could happen.
“Don’t look so worried, little bird,” he said, slowly zipping her dress back up.
“Was her bargain with you very important?”
“Shouldn’t you leave all the probing to EYES and the review board later? Would you be sitting there writing notes or passing information, Nikki?”
He sounded more curious than angry, one steely arm circling her waist holding her securely as if he would never let her go. It made her feel safe and wanted. This was where she had wanted to be last night, too. Would he still have wanted her today?
“You aren’t answering me,” he chided.
She blinked, focusing on his question. The review board. “I’ll be there. Admiral Madison hired me to add balance to all the information.” Which wasn’t going to be easy, she added silently. “Denise Lorens will probably be there, too. We’ll be waiting in the same room.”
“Don’t sit next to her. Don’t talk to her.” Rick placed a kiss on her forehead, then lifted her off the steps to set her back onto the landing. “She won’t be in a good mood, and I don’t want her anywhere near you.”
“I can take care of myself, Rick,” she said, looking up. “It’s you who’s in trouble.”
He smiled. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She wished she could tell him, but it wasn’t the right time. Something must have shown in her expression, because he tipped her face up and warned her again, “Don’t say anything to Denise. I don’t know what she’s up to, but if she could hurt you, too, she would, Nikki.”
“She’s following orders because someone higher up promised her something,” Nikki said, watching the frown appearing on Rick’s forehead, “and if she could stop me from making full disclosure of what I have found out, so much the better.”
“She wants to use you against me,” Rick guessed.
Nikki nodded. “And you against me. If I don’t want her to continue to threaten your career, I will do as she says.”
“And since I refused her last night, she will definitely go after me. Don’t let her stop you from your job.” He rubbed her chin with his thumb. “One sacrificial lamb is enough.”
But Nikki had been one a long time ago. She had no intention of letting Rick be one today.
“Rule number five,” she said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. He arched a brow as he waited. “I don’t want lamb on my menu tonight. I want something with strawberry in it. Make it through the review board so I can have what I want.”
Her heart thumped at the sensuous heat in his gaze. “You’re sure?” He wasn’t referring to whether he would survive the review board.
This was harder than she had thought. Trusting a man again. Opening old wounds. But this was her chance to prove that she was no longer driven by fear.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, I’m sure.”
If fate decreed that she were to feed hungry ghosts, she had better feed the ones that had been haunting her, too.
Later that day, Rick finished what was supposed to be coffee in the employee lounge. He dropped the plastic cup into the trash and looked around. The sofa looked about the same nondescript tan color as the one that was here the last
time he took his breaks in this room. That was—he tried to remember—God, maybe seven years ago. The wide-screen television was new; they didn’t have such a nice set down here back in those days.
His stomach growled a protest and he gave a wry smile. Too many years a bureaucrat. Too many years drinking martinis at lunch. He was getting soft in his old age—his digestive system couldn’t take the abuse of that black sludge and machine-packaged food.
The door swung open and Cam strode in, followed by Patty Ostler from records. Rick liked the way she had handled things when he had talked to them earlier. She was efficient, asking the few questions needed to understand the situation. She had weighed the problem for a few seconds, and had thrown her hat into the ring to help Rick.
Being from records, she was able to track all requests for classified data, when they were taken out and returned or destroyed. Unfortunately, Denise worked within the Directorate of Intelligence, which logged a fair amount of classified data daily. The process of finding Denise’s false information was going to take some time, something Rick knew he didn’t have, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
They had agreed to resume down here after a short meeting at Cam’s small office. Too many distractions upstairs. Of course, anyone but I.I. operatives would know there was something wrong if they were to walk in here and see Task Force Two’s operations chief taking a break. Everyone knew Hard-On didn’t care for small talk with his team or anyone else.
“Hi, sir.” Cam headed straight for the coffee and poured himself a cup. Patty shook her head, making a face, when he glanced her way. She opened her purse and brought out a small can of instant coffee. Rick recognized it as one of those gourmet brands.
“I don’t blame you,” Rick said to her. “That stuff is poison.”
“The trick,” Cam explained, as he poured a concoction of sugar and cream into his large cup, “is to put a little coffee
into your cream. You stir it, like this, and then you add a little more, then you stir it, and then you add a little more.”
He carefully tasted the hot liquid and nodded in satisfaction. “Ahhhhh. Perfect.”
“Why not just drink the cream and sugar?” Patty asked, shaking her head again when he offered her a taste. Rick hid a smile as she carefully wiped the plastic cup and utensil with a napkin before spooning her own coffee mix into it.
“What? And not get my daily dosage of government-approved health food?” Cam mocked and gave her a wink. He turned to Rick. “Sir, they wanted to take apart my office. I said to them, ‘Go ahead. I need the space, anyway.’”
“They are going to need a shovel,” Rick countered sardonically. He had just been there and had seen firsthand what Cam’s office looked like. The small space was meant for just two desks and a few shelves. Cam had shared it with Steve McMillan before the latter had left Task Force Two. He could tell which half of the office belonged to Steve because Cam’s side was…He was at a loss for the word to describe the state of Cam’s organized chaos.
“They are going to need several shovels,” Patty corrected.
“It isn’t that messy, princess,” Cam said, pulling out a chair for her. “Everything is where I know it is, just like you and your stuff.”
Patty coughed, holding a napkin against her mouth. Cam patted her back helpfully. “Like me?” she squeaked.
“Yeah.”
She straightened up in her chair indignantly. “Cam, your office is not just messy—it’s…it’s a disaster zone. Are you saying I’m messy like that?”
Cam grinned, clearly enjoying baiting Patty Ostler. Rick watched as he “borrowed” her napkin and wiped his spoon with an exaggerated flourish before giving it to her. “Have a piece of this chocolate cake, princess. It’ll sweeten you back.” His grin widened as she glared up at him. “Now, see, you don’t pay attention. I said, ‘Everything is where I know it is, just like you and your stuff.’ I didn’t say you’re messy. I meant I know where everything I want is, see?”
Rick heard the male possessiveness in Cam’s voice as he watched the byplay. Patty Ostler didn’t know it yet but she was a targeted woman. Seeing them so absorbed with each other, he felt that old emptiness creeping back inside.
Just then, Cam tried to steal a piece of the cake from Patty’s plate, and she smacked his knuckles with her spoon, then glanced at Rick’s direction, horrified at her display of bad manners. Giving Cam a last threatening glare, she turned her back to him. “Leave my chocolate cake alone. We’re down here to work,” she said in a determined voice, and growled when Cam reached over her shoulder and disturbed her plate.
In spite of how he was feeling, Rick laughed. The two of them were so focused on each other, the heat of their attraction so tangible, that for a moment he had forgotten the reason they were down there.
Apparently no one had ever heard Hard-On’s laughter because Cam’s and Patty’s expressions mirrored both shock and fascination. It had been so long since Rick had experienced that kind of camaraderie with another woman. There was that twinge of envy again.