Sondrae Bennett

Covert Desires


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definitely dominant, man across the table from her. A good ole country boy, the boy next door, born and raised in the same town he lived and worked in as an adult. But some instinct whispered that there was more to Danny than met the eye. And she’d learned the hard way to trust her instincts.

      Maybe it was in the way he’d start to make a move, then pull himself back. Almost as if he didn’t trust himself. As if he thought he was dangerous to her. Amber didn’t think he meant her harm, but every now and then when he’d touch her, she felt him…hesitate. Yet, he reached for her hand time and time again.

      The pieces to the Danny puzzle kind of fit together, but only if hammered in. With a few empty spots as if she was missing a piece or two. He was a riddle. Amber loved solving riddles. And wasn’t it lucky that solving this one happened to be part of her job? Well, kind of.

      As soon as she’d read over his file, she’d suspected he wasn’t involved in whatever her bosses had sent her here to investigate. By the time he’d shown up with his heated eyes, slow smile, and bouquet of bright yellow daisies, she’d grown pretty certain. And after the ride to the restaurant while he pointed out things of interest in the town, she’d pretty much ruled him out entirely. But, there were still plenty of reasons to pursue a relationship with someone who knew the area as well as Danny did, even if it wasn’t directly related to her job. The information he could provide would help narrow down her search.

      Besides, Danny was great company. She couldn’t remember enjoying an evening more. He proved charming and courteous, with just a flair of danger. Not the for her life kind–there’d been too much of that in her life already–but the kind that reminded her of the time she’d snuck out and gone skinny dipping with Bobby Thompson in high school. The kind that pooled in her belly and made her smile with secret wicked intent.

      Easy on the eyes, too. When he smiled, one crease appeared to the left of his mouth. Not so much a dimple, but a small indent. Just on the one side. Amber found it adorable. Not that she’d tell him that. Men wanted to be dashing or handsome. Not adorable.

      “Are you ready to order?” a waitress asked, standing beside their table with a pen poised over her pad of paper.

      Amber peered over her menu and met Danny’s gaze. A jolt of heat struck her as their eyes met. The portfolio she’d gotten on him had stated his eye color as brown, but it hadn’t described the rich honey color of them or the flecks of darker brown hidden within. She could get lost in those eyes.

      She stiffened. No, she couldn’t afford to get lost in a pretty pair of eyes. Not ever again. She was here for information. Nothing more. But how easy it would be to pretend, if only for one night, that things could be different.

      Across the table, Danny raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

      “I think he’s pretty too, sugar, but I need to get your order if you want to eat sometime tonight,” the girl said, making Amber aware of just how long she’d stared at him. What was wrong with her?

      “Right, sorry. I’ll have a buffalo blue burger, well done, with fries.”

      Jeez, caught ogling a potential informant during a mission. She could almost hear her director’s lecture now.

      With as much pride as she could muster, Amber handed the waitress her menu, meeting her eyes directly, a pretty girl with large blue eyes and a name tag that read Charlee. Amber sized her up with no more than a glance. Cute as a button and completely harmless. She winked at Amber in friendly gesture, but Amber cursed her and herself as she felt a blush rise up in her cheeks. Damn it, she’d almost escaped with no visible evidence of her embarrassment.

      “Well done?” Danny cringed at her dramatically, before turning his attention to the waitress.

      Amber looked down and smiled into her lap, grateful he hadn’t teased her about staring too long.

      If Danny really was everything he appeared to be, he was a stand-up guy. The kind she hadn’t thought existed anymore.

      “I’ll have the BBQ burger, and onion rings.”

      The waitress took the menu from him and left.

      Amber watched her progress, before turning a questioning look at Danny. “She didn’t ask how you wanted it cooked.”

      “They know me here,” he responded with a shrug.

      “Which means?”

      “They know how I like my meat.”

      Curious. Not “burger,” but “meat.”

      “And how is that?” Blame it on her inquisitive nature, but she couldn’t let the subject go.

      “Medium rare, emphasis on the rare. They cook it just the way I like it.”

      Rare hamburger meat? “Eww.”

      He laughed, reaching for his beer. A Guinness, which was another eww in her book, but to each their own. “That’s how I feel about the charred version you ordered.” A teasing smile softened his words.

      “We’ll just see which one of us comes down with food poisoning first,” she teased back, making his smile grow.

      With Danny, it was so easy to forget who she was and why she was here. So easy to forget her facade and be natural around him. Maybe she had lost her investigative skills when she lost her heart for the job. Or maybe she was still stalling. Time to get to work.

      “So Danny, how long have you lived here?” Of course, she already knew the answer. But he didn’t know that, and she had to keep up appearances. Couldn’t appear too eager for the knowledge she needed.

      Besides, even the typical first date questions had their uses. By studying his body language and expressions, she could pick up tells, to see how he reacted when he told the truth and when he lied.

      Civilians were often clueless to how easily they could be read by someone with a little experience. She wasn’t a profiler by any means–tried that and it was not for her–but the mandatory courses she’d taken to become an agent had included some basic skills.

      “My whole life. The town doctor delivered me, and I haven’t left.”

      Amber paid close attention to his face when he answered, watching the way his eyes moved, how the lines around his mouth shifted when he talked.

      “So what do you do?”

      Again she watched when he answered, asking the expected questions and analyzing his responses. So far nothing seemed suspicious. It all jived with the information she’d been given. What she needed to do was catch him in a lie, just a small one, but something that would allow her to assess his physical response. But what to ask…

      “So why relocate to this area?” he asked her before she could come up with something.

      She’d expected this. Had prepared for these types of questions. She’d spent an entire week learning her supposed history. Even an expert psychologist would have trouble distinguishing the lies from the truth. Not foolproof, granted. She knew a few agents who could call her out. But still pretty damn good, if she said so herself. The trick was to stay as close to the truth as possible.

      “After my parents passed, I floundered a bit.” Truth. “My father wasn’t close to his family. They didn’t approve of my mother and cut him out when he married her. And my mother was an only child.” Truth. Amber looked into her beer and shrugged her shoulder. “I guess I just got restless with my job, my home, everything.”

      Another truth. She wasn’t just restless with her job, her home, her life–but tired. Bone weary tired. Every day she struggled more, but nothing helped. She felt…stuck. Moving to the middle of nowhere and escaping her current existence sounded like heaven. If she had the money. Which she didn’t.

      Not because she didn’t make enough. But she hadn’t exactly been worried about saving it before. As an agent, her life had constantly been in turmoil. Hard to prepare for retirement when standing so close