Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (6 page)

Nope. She wasn’t about to tangle with him again. Not if
she could help it.

And she could help it.

“Dear God, keep me out of his path, cause if ever there
was a man I’m in danger of losing my heart to, it’s the mysterious rogue cowboy
with the smoldering green eyes and incredibly sexy mouth.”

Chapter Two

Find me a man who’s interesting enough to
have dinner with and I’ll be happy.

~Lauren Bacall

McLean, Virginia

CIA Headquarters

February 16, Monday

Five hours and fifteen minutes
before the assassination…

It
was only a slight touch, but Duel Remington woke instantly and totally alert.

“Sorry
to keep you waiting,” Travis muttered. “I had to grab my tux at the cleaners
before they closed. Tired?”

“Exhausted.
What time is it?” Duel stood up, stretched, then rubbed the back of neck.
He’d had the sweetest dream about the redhead. He’d kissed her, and God, she’d
had a mouth that tasted like sweet cherries and
—

“Almost
six-thirty. You have just enough time to go to your hotel, change, and meet us
at the White House. You have a tux with you?”

Duel
nodded. “Don’t I always? Damn it, Travis, don’t tell me Samantha only called me
here to attend a social function? Do you have any idea what happened in
Rimrock? To my family?”

“I’m
sorry, partner. It’s Sam’s orders, and she’s the boss.”

Duel
shoved back his Stetson. “That’s not good enough, man. I’ve either been on the
road, in the air, or at the hospital for the last week or more. With Jace out
of commission, I need to be at the ranch. This better be important!”

Travis
grimaced. “Sorry to say, but when the first lady issues a request, and asks for
particular agents, Samantha considers it vital. She makes certain all of Molly
Westcott’s problems disappear. They were college roommates, you know?”

“No,
I didn’t know. So you’re saying this assignment is based on their previous
friendship?”

“I
think so, yeah.” Travis nodded. “It’s more of a matter of trust, though. Molly
knows she can depend on Sam and the agents she chooses for discretion.”

Duel
arched both brows. “Okay? I guess I’m lost here.”

“Let’s
get out of here. I’ll explain on the ride down.” They stepped inside the
elevator and Travis hit the underground park button. Fortunately, they were the
only two inside the car.

“Why
isn’t the Secret Service at the first lady’s beck and call, instead of CIA?”
Duel asked.

“Because
Molly Westcott doesn’t put her faith in them. She knows they report to the
president.”

Duel
lifted a brow. “And we don’t?”

Travis
shook his head. “A long story, but Molly trusts Sam not to buckle. Change of
subject, I’m glad Jace is okay. I heard he got married.”

“Thanks.
Yes. He married Kaycee Spencer.”

Travis
whistled softly. “The Spencer who trains horses? I met her once when I was on a
buying trip for Dad. Lovely woman. Hey.” He snapped his fingers. “Wasn’t there
a Spencer on the plane with Dianna?”

“Kaycee’s
brother.”

“Any
word on your sister yet?”

“Wild
called earlier. He said the search will probably be dropped after tomorrow.”

“Damn,
Duel. I’m sorry. Maybe you can get outta here tomorrow and go to Australia.”

“Wild
and Raider can handle things there. I’d be better use at the Dancing Star. Jace
will try to do the work, and he’s in no shape. He needs my help.”

“This
assignment shouldn’t last long. I’m sure Sam will tell you to go home after
tonight.”

Duel
nodded. “Tell me what Sam needs from us.”

“She
called us in because it’s urgent.”

“Honestly, Travis,” Duel said, skepticism in his voice,
“it sounds more like Sam’s doing a personal favor for a friend and using the
staff in the process.”

“There’s
more to it than that, or she wouldn’t have brought you in. You know that.”

“Yes,”
Duel agreed. He also knew Travis always came to Sam’s defense, right or wrong.
There was something going on between those two, something fierce. Hot. He
didn’t know if it was sexual, or if Travis resented working for a woman.
Whatever it was, the tension was explosive and sparks flew when they were
around each other for more than five minutes.

He’d
been trapped in their private battles before, and sometimes their vocal
arguments got ugly. Oddly enough, most of the antagonism came from Samantha
toward Travis. Duel was just glad he was on her good side. A pissed-off Sam
wasn’t pretty. However, she was loyal to a fault. And when it came to her
agents, she was a veritable tigress protecting her cubs when necessary.

But
he didn’t want to be in the middle of one of their verbal skirmishes. Not
tonight. Like Travis said
—
Samantha
was the boss. In their profession, it was imperative to have good working
relationships. Trust. He ground his te
eth, and accepted the fact that
Sam wouldn’t have sent for him, if she hadn’t felt he was needed.

“The
diplomat from Spain is in Washington,” Travis said quietly as the doors of the
elevator swished open. They stepped into the underground park and turned right.
Cold air, sharp as a knife and mixed with the strong smell of motor oil and
gasoline slapped them in the face.

“Security’s
being beefed,” Travis added. “And you know Sam, like Molly, she wants only the
best on duty.”

“Always.”
Duel dug his keys out of his jeans pocket. “There have been foreign diplomats
at the White House before. What makes this one so special?”

Travis
merely lifted a brow.

Duel
widened his eyes. “What?
Shit.
We’re
guarding his ass because the first lady has a
thing
for the Spaniard?”

“Not
a
thing
, Duel. The affair is hot and
heavy, to the point divorce is in the foreseeable future, at least to the first
lady’s way of thinking. Although no one wants to see harm befall the Spaniard,
our concern is Molly’s safety. There have been threats.”

“From
the president?”

“I
don’t know. The notes are untraceable. The script is hen’s scrawling, sometimes
difficult to read, but definitely a threat against her life.”

“How
long has the affair been going on?”

“Almost
a year. You haven’t been here to know what’s been happening.”

“Yeah,
well I’m catching up fast. Mac
—
”

“Ah,
you heard about his unsavory affair already?”

“Is
it true?”

“At
a guess, yes, I’d say Mac has had his dick where it doesn’t belong, but right
now it’s in a wringer. Can’t say I blame him for nailing her, though. Hell,
she’s beautiful. Sexy. I heard Neil Turner walked in on them in a compromising
clutch.”

Duel
snorted. “I think good ol’ Neil would like his dick stuck where it don’t
belong.”

Travis
shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what he saw, but he said he heard her telling
Mac she didn’t want to see him anymore and Mac refused to break off the affair.
Damn, Duel, I know you like the man, but he had to know a tawdry office affair
would cost him his job. He must be balls deep in love with her to risk
everything, risk losing Marie.”

“Yeah.”
Duel shook his head. “It just doesn’t sound like the Mac I know.”

“I
was away on assignment when it started, but the rumors,” Travis shrugged,
“bad.”

“I
heard plenty today, but you can’t always believe idle speculation or even what
you see.”

Travis
eyed him a moment. “You usually don’t listen to the office grist mill.”

Duel
grinned. “Angie caught me at a weak moment.” His grin faded and he rubbed the
dull ache between his eyes. “I don’t like for someone to be crucified when
there isn’t anyone here who’s snow white.”

Travis
looked at him grimly. “I know Mac was your best friend and partner long before
I came along, but—”

“I
wasn’t referring to Mac.”

“Huh.”
Travis arched both brows. “I guess only you know the meaning behind that
statement, and I won’t push, so, back to business.”

“Okay.
What’s the story with Molly?” Duel asked.

“Our beloved first lady caught the president in bed with
not one, but two movie starlets I’ll leave unnamed. This is a case of what’s
sauce for the gander…”

“So
what are we supposed to do tonight, besides the obvious?”

“Make
certain when the first lady excuses herself from the dinner party with a sudden
terrible migraine, she’s escorted to her private quarters by us and not the
Secret Service. She’ll meet Delacourt shortly after.”

“You’ve
got to be kidding. The CIA sanctions this affair?”

Travis
gave a curt nod. “For the time being, there’s no choice. We’ve also set up a
hotel room where they can meet undisturbed.”

“For
God’s sake, why? And why do we have to be the ones who escort her to her
quarters?”

“Witnesses.
She wants everyone to note her going to her room. Our escorting her will
certainly draw attention, much more so than if the Secret Service does it.
That’s so routine no one pays attention.”

“Is this our tax dollars at work?”

“Yes. And the reasons are quite simple. There are three
reasons, actually.”

“Three?”

“One…Molly threatened to expose the president’s affairs if
we don’t. She’s serious, too, and right now, this country doesn’t need another
president caught with his pants down.”

“It’s her word against John’s,” Duel pointed out.

“She has pictures, and so far, we haven’t found the
originals.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep, that’s what he’s doing in them, and not to Molly.”
Travis scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “It’s a mess.”

“The second reason?” Duel inquired.

“Delacourt’s wife accompanied him to the U.S.”

“And?” Duel raised his voice in question.

“She’s eight months pregnant with their seventh child. No
one wants to risk upsetting her.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“There’s no religion involved in this disaster,” Travis
said stone-faced.

Duel choked. “You are so not funny.”

“I’m crushed.” Travis pressed a hand over his heart.

Duel snorted again. “Go on.”

“Delacourt has made it plain he wants a divorce from Inez.
She knows her husband is sleeping with Molly, but she refuses to sign the
papers. As long as the affair doesn’t go public, she’s willing to keep mum.”

“Dear God.”

“I know,” Travis said. “It gives one goose-bumps, does it
not? We’re sitting on top of a bomb that’s liable to go off any minute.
However, Inez has always turned a blind eye to her husband’s affairs. You
notice I use the plural? This time, it appears he’s serious about the woman
he’s involved with. However, Inez doesn’t intend to lose a dime of his money to
Molly, even though he’s worth billions.”

“Number three?” Duel asked.

“If we hadn’t provided a hotel room for Molly and
Delacourt, Molly threatened to take the Spaniard to her bed in the room she
shared with John at the White House. A bed John still uses and is very likely
to walk in and catch the two of them boffing each other.”

“I take it John doesn’t know Molly is
—
”

“No,” Travis interrupted. “We intend to keep it that way.
Molly is pissed. A woman scorned is a dangerous woman. She’s reckless. Swear to
God, she’s drowning herself in champagne and sex.”

Duel chewed on his lower lip. “Can it get any worse?”

Again, Travis lifted a brow.

“Damn it, Trav, you’re sucking this for all it’s worth.”

For the first time, Travis snickered. “I sure am, old
buddy, cause I tell you, we haven’t had a fubar like this since Marilyn sang,
Happy Birthday
to JFK in that
glittering, gold, sewn-onto-her-body, tight-ass gown.”

“Big fubar?”

Travis nodded.

“Aw, shit. What else?”

“What else?”
Travis’s lips flattened. “Oh, you’re a glutton for punishment.” He sighed.
“Just to make things interesting and make sure we’re on our toes, Molly’s also
demanded a divorce. She’s quite anxious to obtain her freedom. She and
Delacourt are already making wedding plans. Of course, John doesn’t want the
scandal of a divorce with election year coming up in a few months, but he knows
he’s guilty as hell and has caused Molly’s ire. He’s trying to get her to
forgive his infidelities. Like Inez, he won’t agree to sign anything. Molly
wants this divorce badly enough, she doesn’t care if John discovers her
sleeping with Delacourt.” Travis’ brows beetled in a deep frown. “I hope my
wife never hates me that much.”

“You don’t have a wife.”

“I might…one day. Anyway, when Delacourt leaves the dinner
party thirty minutes after Molly departs, Inez will excuse herself, return to
her hotel room and go to bed. She won’t ask questions. She won’t say a word.
She’ll smile and pretend everything’s perfect. The humiliation, you know?”

“Yeah. Which hotel?”

“For Inez, or Delacourt and Molly?” Travis grinned.

“All of them,” Duel replied, his temper on edge. These
days, it seemed his temper was always on edge. He felt like punching something.
He eyed Travis. Damn, the agent would punch back, and Duel knew for a fact that
Travis packed a mean wallop. He sure as hell didn’t feel like nursing a bruised
or broken jaw. “Christ, I can’t believe I’ve been called in for such an
assignment. I don’t like playing guard dog for illicit affairs. I don’t care if
it is the first lady. Sam should know better than to involve us in this mess.
If anything and I mean anything goes down, you know who’s going to catch the
fallout?”

“Ambassador Hotel.”

“What?” Duel frowned.

“They’re staying at the Ambassador, and yes, I know who’ll
catch the fallout,” Travis told him.

“Who’s staying at the
Ambassador?”

“All three of them.” Travis jammed his hands in the front
of his pants pockets. “And don’t punch me. I see that look in your eyes. I told
you it’s a fubar. Inez is on the eighth floor. Molly and Delacourt are on the
fourteenth. Cozy, huh?”