thinking? Word could get back to whoever’s running this scam that someone’s poking around. We’re supposed to be undercover, remember? And that means not jumping in wearing bright orange neon.”
Her fingernails dug into her palm as she tried to control her flaring temper. “I’m not an idiot, Sinclair. I said I was a reporter for a travel magazine doing some background research on California resorts. Nothing suspicious. Nothing that’s going to jeopardize your precious first time leading a mission.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to apologize, but he said nothing. Well, fine. Wasn’t this going to be a pleasant assignment?
As they stepped off the escalator, she matched him stride for stride, her irritation growing with each step. “Do you want to hear my other ideas? Or are you going to just keep on ignoring me?” Probably he expected her to simply do whatever he said without question and not even participate. Hell, this was their mission, even if he was technically in charge. And Tori intended to see to it that she was a full participant, no matter what Carter might have planned.
This time he stopped, and she gave herself two mental points. “Look, Tori. I’m tired. I haven’t slept in three days.” He shifted his carry-on to the opposite shoulder, then smiled at her. A real smile, not the least bit condescending. Damn him, how the hell was she supposed to stay righteously indignant if he was going to make nice?
“I’m not ignoring you,” he added. “I just want to get my luggage, get our car and then get on the road. Once we’re on the highway, you can talk all you want.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his baggage claim ticket. “Deal?”
She wanted to argue. Hell, she even opened her mouth and started to. But the facts were the facts, and as much as she hated it, Carter was in charge. Not only that, but he was being civil—at least a little—and that was something she hadn’t really expected considering their history and how they’d started out a few minutes ago.
She couldn’t say her anger melted, but it was definitely getting soft around the edges. And hadn’t her grandmother always said she’d catch more flies with honey? Tori had always hated that saying, but at the moment it seemed uniquely appropriate.
He stood still, waiting for her answer, his arms crossed as a flood of passengers maneuvered around them.
Her instincts told her to fight. To make him understand—right then, right there—that she wasn’t just some second-fiddle partner. She wanted to be part of the decision-making process, and she didn’t intend to let him overshadow her. But something in his eyes stalled her resolve, and she caved.
“Fine,” she said, hoping against hope that she wasn’t somehow handing Carter the upper hand for the entire length of their assignment. She lifted her chin. “We’ll talk in the car.”
CARTER EXHALED in relief. He’d expected a fight. Hell, where Tori was concerned, he always expected a fight. And he had to wonder what had caused her to back off.
Still, he didn’t intend to wonder for too long. Right then, he’d take whatever little gifts she handed him. And he fully anticipated that they’d be sparring like old times once they reached the car.
Right now, though, he needed some time alone. He’d known for days they’d be working together, but it wasn’t until he saw her sitting in the lobby, her shoulder-length brown curls hanging loose as she hunched over a pad of yellow paper, that reality had conked him on the head. He’d seen her sitting there, and all the old feelings had come rushing back—competitiveness, frustration and, yes, desire.
The frustration made sense. After all, she had a reputation for shooting from the hip, and Carter liked to follow the rules. He’d also expected the competitiveness; they’d been neck-and-neck at the academy, and he’d had no reason to expect that either of them would be completely able to keep the past in the past.
The desire, though…Well, that’s what floored him. At the academy, he’d wanted her. No question about it. But she’d only been using him, and, although she’d left him frustrated as hell that night, it wasn’t as if the love of his life had run out on him. No, that bit of lust had been nothing more than hormones. He’d been young and horny, and the fact that she challenged him had excited him.
But he’d grown up since then. No longer did Carter want to be a superagent, spending all his time in the field, surrounding himself with the underbelly of society. No, more and more he was realizing he wanted a simpler lifestyle. He didn’t want to leave the Bureau, but he did want a home. A family. A wife, a couple of kids. Maybe even a dog.
Undercover work didn’t allow for much of a social life, but he’d managed to work in one or two dates in the last few months. And the women he’d gone out with were looking for the same thing he was. They were nice women. All smart and interesting. And not one packed a pistol.
Exactly the kind of women he wanted.
So why was it that after just a few minutes with Tori his body was reacting like he hadn’t gotten laid in a year? Why could he smell her soap even though she was walking a few feet behind him? Why did he have to stifle the urge to turn around and watch the way her breasts moved under that thin cotton T-shirt she wore untucked over her jeans?
Only one answer sprang to mind—that one or two dates over the last few months weren’t enough to satisfy the libido of a guy in his early thirties. Too bad for him the hottest woman he’d run into was a woman with a history of driving him nuts. Thank God for self-control.
Unfortunately for him, though, by the time they reached the baggage claim, his self-control was fading, and his body was on hyperdrive. Not that she’d be interested even if he did make a move. Tori had made it more than clear on numerous occasions that she wasn’t interested in him, and he sincerely doubted anything had changed in that department.
Besides, even if he thought she’d jump at the chance, he still wouldn’t make a move. No matter how hot she was, Carter was a professional. What was between him and Tori was strictly business. And that’s all it would ever be.
He turned to her more brusquely than he intended. “Why don’t you get the car while I wait for my bag. I’ll meet you in front of the rental counter.”
“Trying to get rid of me already?” she asked, the corner of her mouth twitching.
He had the absurd desire to kiss her. As if that would somehow show her who was in charge. Or maybe it would show him he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. “Just go,” he said, hoping he sounded authoritative and not frustrated that she’d actually nailed his motivation.
Thankfully, she went. He watched her leave, giving in to the urge to enjoy the way she moved in the well-worn jeans and annoyed with himself for letting his self-control slip.
A plethora of black nearly identical bags started going round and round on the conveyor, and he let his mind wander even as he watched for the purple string tied onto the handle that designated his basic black bag.
His instinct in Kincaid’s office had been right; he shouldn’t have taken this case. No matter what the reward, working with Tori wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was going to be damn hard. And not just because she was so gung-ho about finally working in the field. He had no idea why she’d been stuck at a desk, but he could smell how badly she wanted a field assignment.
Unfortunately, her overeager attitude had the potential to get them into trouble. He’d had to bite his tongue not to read her the riot act when she’d told him about the stunt she’d pulled at the newspaper morgue. Thankfully, she’d told the story about being a reporter, but still…Didn’t she understand that the point was to blend in? They were undercover after all. The idea was to get the lay of the land, not to storm in with guns blazing.
But it wasn’t her misplaced enthusiasm that was going to make this mission hard. No, the real problem lay in the assignment itself—in the fact that he and Tori Lowell were going undercover together, literally and figuratively.
Too bad for Carter, on this assignment, undercover meant