of a smart and intuitive agent, she’d also been a wild card, and if Kincaid was right, she still was. The daughter of a highly celebrated undercover agent, Tori had made no secret of the fact that she intended to follow in her father’s footsteps and that she’d do anything to get there.
Dating while at Quantico was discouraged by the powers that be, but not forbidden, and Carter had been entranced enough to go against protocol. Almost daily, Carter had asked Tori out for coffee or to grab a pizza and some beer at the Boardroom, the bar located above the cafeteria at Quantico. She’d repeatedly turned him down cold. Repeatedly, that is, until the week before graduation. When he’d asked her then, she’d accepted.
Carter blew out a breath, his body tightening as he remembered the way she’d looked that night. She’d worn a black dress and, though he’d seen her in jogging shorts, there was just something about a woman in stockings and heels. He’d taken her into Alexandria for dancing, and they’d worked up quite a sweat, each trying to go a little bit longer, a little bit harder, than the other. They’d cooled off afterward with vodka tonics. Not that Carter had really cooled off. Just the opposite, in fact. Simply being near Tori seemed to ignite his blood to near boiling.
Apparently Tori had heated up a bit, too. Because by the time they reached the dorms, neither one could keep their hands off the other. God, he’d been desperate for her, and he’d pinned her in the circle of his arms right under the stairway leading to her room.
She hadn’t protested, either. Her arms had slipped around his neck, and her lips…He sighed with the memory. Oh, the taste of her lips.
He’d moved closer, breaking the circle of his arms so he could touch her, stroke her body under that slinky, sexy dress. She’d moaned, her breath soft and hot against his ear. He remembered his head spinning, not only from the alcohol, but from the knowledge that this woman—this woman he’d been competing with during their entire tenure at Quantico—actually wanted him as much as he wanted her.
His mouth had explored hers, his hands stroking her silky soft shoulder, then down lower to trace the curve of her breast. She’d moaned, and the sound had acted on him with as much force as if she’d dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He’d pulled her closer, wanting more, wanting everything, and knowing they should go inside one of their rooms but unwilling to do anything that would take her out of his embrace.
She’d leaned back, and their eyes met. At first, her mouth had curved into a smile, but then she’d frowned. Her eyes had widened, and she’d jerked backward. “I have to go,” she said.
She might as well have slapped him. Carter had been too stunned to move. “What?” he asked. “What is it?”
With increasing urgency, she’d pressed against his arm. “I have to go.”
She broke free and ran down the hall, then up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the corridor. He turned, instinctively looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her odd behavior. Nobody. The halls were completely empty.
It was only after the echo died that he realized what must have happened. It had all been a ruse. Their final tests were coming up, and so far he’d managed to pull ahead of her in every area. The Bureau didn’t formally rank its graduates, but everyone still knew who had the top spot. Right then, it was Carter. But Tori wanted that spot. Wanted it bad. And, damn it, apparently she even wanted it enough to try a little seduction to throw him off his game. He didn’t know why she’d run. Maybe she’d chickened out. Or maybe that was her game plan all along—get him hot and then get out of there.
He sighed. A damn shame. For a moment there, he’d thought they’d actually connected. He should have known better. Tori was too competitive by half. If anyone ever connected with her, it would be a damn miracle. He’d only wished she had run out on him before he’d got a major hard-on. Because all he’d had to look forward to that evening was a long, cold shower.
At the elevator, Carter sighed as he pulled himself out of his memories. He’d been her nemesis back then, and knowing Tori, she still had it in for him. At the very least, Tori was going to be less than enthusiastic about partnering with the man who—at least in her mind—stole her number one ranking in firearms, physical training and the classroom portion of their academy training.
He stepped onto the elevator, his mind reeling. Not that he was still interested in Tori. He got enough excitement in his job. She might have once been roll-in-the-sheets material, but nowadays, Carter’s interest in women leaned toward the more stable variety.
Swallowing a snort, he shook his head at his foolishness. No matter how he felt about her now, the truth was, he’d spent his days and nights at Quantico with a permanent hard-on, courtesy of a woman who drove him completely nuts and who probably never wanted to see him again.
A woman who was now his partner. A woman he was supposed to keep out of trouble.
The elevator doors slid shut, and he pressed his forehead against the cool metal.
Damn. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
“EAGLE’S NEST, this is Redbird. I’m in place.” Special Agent Tori Lowell ducked behind the Dumpster in downtown Hogan’s Alley, ignoring the repulsive odor of rotting food and who knows what else and waited for Murphy’s reply to register in her earpiece. She didn’t have long to wait.
“Roger, Redbird.” A burst of static, then, “Hatchlings, the rest of you give me an update.”
“Bluebird here. In place. No action.”
“Sparrow. Same here.”
“Seagull. Someone’s coming. Hang tight.”
Tori monitored the conversation through her earpiece, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The area behind the Dumpster stank to high heaven, and she longed to get out and see what was going on. But her orders had been firm—on this routine training mission, she wasn’t to do anything but observe unless she was given a direct order.
She sighed, resting her forehead against the rusty metal. How the devil was she ever supposed to prove herself if her superiors never gave her the opportunity? Carter Sinclair had been working in the field since they left the academy. Apparently, his career hadn’t suffered from their little liaison that night at Quantico.
She tightened her hand around the barrel of her gun, struggling to control her temper. She was just as good an agent as Carter—maybe even better—and yet she’d been locked inside an office building. Her superiors told her it was because she was good at research, and her mentor in the Bureau—an overprotective family friend—backed up that assessment.
But Tori didn’t believe it. She was too good to be chained to a desk. Which meant the only explanation was Carter. She’d made a mistake and had agreed to go out with the super-sexy agent. And then, when the wine and the moonlight had gotten the better of them, she’d succumbed to heaven in his arms.
She sighed at the memory. Oh, God, it had been heaven. At least until they’d been seen. She’d never discovered who their witness was, but she’d seen him in the shadows, watching her and Carter. He must have reported them; there was no other explanation. Her little tryst with Carter was reported to the higher-ups, and Carter, being a guy, still landed the primo assignments. Tori, however, got stuck in FBI hell.
It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t fair at all.
Bang! Crack!
Shots fired. Tori pressed her back against the brick wall, one hand on a pile of empty paint cans for balance. Her whole body tingled as she fought the urge to leap out and see what was going on.
Stay put, stay put, stay put. She repeated the mantra in her head, hoping the order to engage would squawk in her earpiece. More than anything, she wanted to get off the research and analysis grind. Technically, she was a field agent, but it was a rare day when she actually got to go out in the field. No, one little mistake, and she’d been stuck pushing paper in Investigative Services Division. She was good at the research, good at the analysis, but, damn it, she hadn’t joined the FBI to sit at a desk.