Undercover Virgin (15 page)

"We could drive into
Ohio
and catch a flight to
Newark
, then rent a car. They can't watch every airport in the region."

Rianna nodded. "I want to call Donald again and get his input before deciding."

She could tell the idea didn't set well with Kyle. Why? Just a male
thing,
or a genuine mistrust of the other man? Surely that couldn't be the case. He was here as a favor to Donald.

"The fewer people who know our plans, the safer we'll be" he reminded.

"Donald may have news about Rudy and the others, and I want to make sure Gregory's still behind bars."

Kyle seemed reluctant, but finally nodded. "Okay, we call Sullivan, but not from Rudy's cellular. We'll bag it up with anything else we don't want and toss it in the Dumpster. We can find a pay phone to call Sullivan." He looked around. "Is that it?"

She'd already bagged up what few clothes she wanted to take with her and discarded the others. After surveying the room one last time, she nodded. "I don't think there's anything else."

"No extra underwear?" The frown on his face kicked up in a provocative grin. His blue eyes glittered like sapphires.

Rianna felt her face heat at the suggestion. "A good old safety pin will suffice in the absence of built-in panty pouches."

"Glad to hear it."

She'd forgotten to give him some money in case they got separated. Turning her back, she unfastened her jeans, unclipped the safety pin and pulled out a couple of big bills. When she'd refastened everything, she turned again, slamming into Kyle's chest.

The look on his face was so lascivious that she laughed out loud. "Back off, Tremont. You're altogether too interested in my secret hiding place."

"Damn straight," he growled, stealing a quick kiss. Rianna returned his kiss with fervor, but they refrained from holding each other. When they broke apart, she handed him some money.

"First time I ever got paid for a kiss." He tucked the bills into his pocket.

"Consider it an advance," she teased.

"On services to be rendered?"

"Sounds good to me."

He made a move to take her into his arms, but quickly backed off. "Damn."

"I know." She felt the same way. She didn't want to leave their little cocoon and face the world again, but they had no real choice. "A cab or a rental company?"

"There's a little restaurant a couple of blocks down the street," he told her. "I noticed it last night. Why don't we walk down there, get something to eat, and see if any of Haroldson's men crawl out of the woodwork. If it looks safe, we can hire a cab to take us to the airport."

Rianna thought about it. Flying would certainly be the fastest way to make the trip. Kyle probably didn't want to waste any more time on the road dodging henchmen. He'd gone above and beyond his duty as a private citizen. He had to be anxious to get rid of her and get back to his normal life.

The idea shouldn't hurt, yet it did.

"Sounds like a plan." She hoped her tone sounded brisk and professional. It was time to start putting some emotional distance between them.

Turning from his probing gaze, she added, "I'm starved."

"Rianna?" He stopped her as she reached for the doorknob. When she turned, he placed a brief, hard kiss on her lips, and then nudged her aside.

"I'll go first, make a sweep of the parking lot and toss our trash in the Dumpster. Then I'll check the office, and signal from there if it's all clear."

She sighed, but nodded agreement. As he made his way around the motel lot, she watched for any sign of trouble. She'd guarded the backs of other agents in the past, but never one that meant so much to her. She barely breathed until she saw him waving an all-clear from the doorway of the office. Quickly donning a pair of sunglasses, she joined him on the main sidewalk, where he put himself between her and the busy street.

The
midday
sun was hot, and their walk brisk. The street was lined with cars parked in front of various small shops. Two lanes of traffic moved steadily along, but no one seemed to pay them any undue attention. None of the passing vehicles held familiar faces or
an
sort of threat to them.

By the time they reached the restaurant, they were ready for the air-conditioning. Kyle settled into a corner booth with a clear view of the entrance and parking lot, while she made use of the pay phone just inside the front door.

She heard a series of clicks as Donald's home answering system forwarded her call. He picked up within a few seconds and didn't bother with polite greetings.

"Where are you?"

"We're in
Lexington
, and we want to fly back, but I wanted to make one last check with you before leaving here. What's happening?"

"Haroldson is still behind bars, but his lawyer is pulling out all the stops to get him freed. I convinced the police down there to keep Rudy until we can make a prisoner transfer."

"Good. How about Tabone and the others?"

"I'm trying to verify their whereabouts, but they're still wild cards. Our best guess is they won't do anything too stupid or too public."

"So you think it's safe for us to fly?"

"I don't advise it," he said. "I don't have enough manpower to patrol the airports and there are too many of Haroldson's men unaccounted for. If you keep driving, you'll be one step ahead of them and leave a cold trail."

Rianna didn't know how Kyle would take the news of more hours on the road, but she had to agree. She didn't like the odds of a busy airport. If they flew, they wouldn't have the authority to carry their weapons, so they'd be especially vulnerable.

Donald barely paused. "You know the drill. Make sure you aren't being tailed, and head for the cabin. It's as secure as any safe house and you know the alarm codes. I should be there ahead of you, or as soon as I can get there."

"It'll take us another eight or ten hours."

Something in her tone had alerted him to her mood. "Tremont giving you trouble?"

"No."

"Your neck all right? You're not hurting?"

"No, I'm fine, really. I'm just ready to be home."

"Soon," he reassured her. "It's been the longest six months of my life, but I'll have you home soon. Then I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

The fierceness of his tone made Rianna chuckle. "Yes, sir," she teased. "Suits me just fine."

His voice dropped to a low murmur. "You know I love you."

"I know," she whispered. His unfaltering devotion had sustained her through some rough times. "I love you, too."

They said goodbye, and she returned to the booth. Kyle stared at her for a minute, his expression unexpectedly grim, and then he turned his attention to a menu.

She frowned, wondering what had caused his mood to darken, but she didn't ask. Instead, she studied her own menu. Once the waitress had taken their order and they were alone again, she outlined Donald's plan.

"I forgot we'd have to ditch our guns if we flew," he admitted, his brow furrowing. "Does Sullivan think Tabone and the others are still tailing us?"

"He can't be sure. They're unaccounted for, at this point. Damon's a wild card, too. I didn't have any concrete evidence against him, so he's not in custody. There's a warrant for Tabone if Donald finds him before he finds us."

"Let's hope he went into hiding when he heard about the other arrests."

"He's more of a lackey than a thinker, so he and the others might have given up the chase. With Gregory and Rudy in jail, there's no one left to organize the troops. At least, not for a while."

"I'm sure Haroldson has someone on payroll
who's
doing his bidding and seeing that his orders are obeyed."

"That would be Sanderson, his lawyer and flunky. He'll be the go-between for a while, but Donald is trying to freeze Gregory's assets. In that case, nobody gets paid."

"And a good crook's loyalty has to be bought."

"Right. If we spend another day on the road, all the rats will be abandoning ship."

Kyle gave her a strange look but didn't comment. Their meal arrived, so they were quiet while they ate. Despite being hungry, the food didn't sit well on Rianna's stomach.

Her thoughts churned while she considered the best way to handle the rest of the trip. She knew she needed to give him the opportunity of opting out of the mission, yet she hated to broach the subject. He'd be relieved or offended by her suggestion, and either option made her sick at heart.

When she'd eaten as much as she could manage, she studied Kyle for a minute, until the intensity of her scrutiny caught his attention.

"What's worrying you now?"

Rianna wasn't sure she liked having him read her mind or be so aware of her mood swings. She'd never had a truly intimate, sharing sort of relationship with a man who could sense her thoughts and feelings.

Avoiding the problem wouldn't solve it, so she explained. "I'm thinking it might be safer to go our separate ways now. If Gregory's men are still searching for us, they'll be looking for Tony and Samantha, not a lone woman who doesn't look very glamorous anymore."

Kyle's expression went stone cold. His lips thinned and his eyes glittered. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and she knew she'd really ticked him off. Part of her exalted in the knowledge while part of her cringed.

"Trying to give me my walking papers, Rianna?"

His tone rivaled the air-conditioning for chill factor. She fidgeted with her napkin. Then, annoyed with her uncharacteristic restlessness, she tossed it down and looked him directly in the eyes.

"I don't want you to feel obligated to drive all the way back to D.C. with me. I know you put your own life on hold to help Donald, but you've already done more than you bargained for. I think I'll be safe from here on out."

His expression went blank, his tone bland. "You think?"

She clenched her jaw, wishing she knew what he really wanted. "I'm a highly trained professional, remember?"

"Even the best professional needs backup sometimes." He watched her with unerring intensity. "What about the promise you just made? We have a lot of unfinished business between us."

"I'm not denying that," she said, lowering her lashes to hide how deeply his words touched her. "I'm just suggesting that it might have to wait until this whole case is settled."

"You don't think we make good traveling partners?"

She forced herself to look up at him again. "I'm more like a liability you haven't been able to shake. Not to mention you're risking your own life."

"If this is all about me, then why don't you let me decide if and when I want to be cut free?"

Relief rushed through her. She desperately wanted him to want to stay with her, but not out of some misguided sense of duty and honor. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.

"You think we can manage to stay one step ahead of the bad guys without risking life or limb?"

The tension in Kyle's expression eased at her attempt to dispel the dark mood, but his steady gaze didn't waver from her face. His tone was terse when he spoke again, his expression accusing.

"Was that a test, Special Agent Phantom?" She
blinked,
disconcerted again by the way he read her thoughts and intentions. When she locked gazes with him again, hers was clear and steady. "Maybe a little one, but please don't be offended. I really want to do what's best for you at this point. You've put your own life on hold for a long time now."

He lifted a brow in arrogant disagreement. "How long have you been working the case?"

Rianna stared at him. She'd been undercover for a good part of the year, but she'd been working the case half her life. She shook her head, unwilling to voice the whole truth.

They were quiet for a minute, and then Kyle broke the silence with a new suggestion. "I think what's best for both of us
is
a little moving excursion."

She didn't follow his line of thinking. "What do you mean?"

He nodded toward the window facing the intersection. She followed his gaze, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"What?"

"A truck rental company," he explained, pointing across the street. "Nobody's likely to be looking for us in a moving van. What do you say to
renting
one of those for the trip back east?"

She offered him a genuine grin. "Sounds like a winner. I still have one
more phony
ID to use."

His eyes darkened and his tone dropped an octave. "In your security pouch?"

She laughed out loud and then rose from the table. "In my jeans pocket, Tremont. My jeans pocket."

His answering grin warmed her heart.

Chapter 10

«
^
»

T
hey rented a small panel van and Kyle took the first shift of driving. Rianna couldn't believe how exhausted she still felt. She dozed during the next few hours, interspersing her sleep with long conversations about his home in
Texas
and his woodcraft business.

She learned that after retiring from the agency, he'd worked as a security guard for a fast-growing company. His investment in the company's stock allowed him the financial freedom to work for himself. He'd developed a longtime love of woodworking into a small business that was just starting to earn a profit.

The more she learned about Kyle, the more her admiration for him grew. He knew who he was and what he wanted from life. He had a real home and a plan for his future. In comparison, hers seemed really bleak. She'd never allowed herself to dream of any life beyond her obsessive need to see Gregory Haroldson punished.

Once she'd accomplished that objective, she had no idea what she'd be doing. The future loomed big and empty, all her insecurities threatening to rear their ugly heads. Despite her confidence in her ability to do her job, she had little else to be confident about these days. She had no close friends, no relationship skills or long-term goals.

In other words, not much to offer any man. That depressing thought had alarm bells ringing in her head. She was getting in way over her head with the renegade retiree. He'd never mentioned anything about permanency or long-term commitments. They had only known each other a few days, even though it seemed so much longer.

They stopped for dinner in
Charleston
,
West Virginia
, and then Rianna took the wheel so that Kyle could get some rest. The freeway driving was monotonous, but uneventful, as they swapped places every couple of hours. The steady speed allowed them to make good time, and they reached
Maryland
a little before
midnight
. It took another hour to get to Donald's cabin.

The natural wood, A-frame house nestled atop a small hill in a copse of evergreen trees. It sat about a hundred yards from the road and was surrounded by aesthetically appealing, high-security fencing. Lights blazed, illuminating the house from several directions.

Rianna's heart skipped a beat as they approached the iron entrance gates. The cabin had become her second home over the past few years, and the thrill of being close delighted her beyond words. She gave Kyle the code, and the heavy gates silently slid apart for them to pass.

As soon as they pulled to a stop near the house, the front door opened. Donald stepped onto the porch, a tall, distinguished man with thick, graying hair and a smile that lit his craggy, aristocratic features with happiness. Rianna threw open her door, hopping out of the van before Kyle turned off the engine.

In the next instant, she and Donald had narrowed the distance between them, and she threw herself into his waiting arms. He hugged her fiercely, and she returned the embrace with all her strength. Her chest tightened, her throat constricting at the feel of his solid strength. She'd missed him badly.

"Welcome home, baby," he whispered near her ear, tenderly rocking her back and forth.

"You can't imagine how great it is to be here!" she insisted, blinking back tears and fighting a landslide of emotion. It rolled over her with an intensity that had her trembling in his arms.

"It's been too long," he added gruffly, reassuring her. "It's okay now. You're home and you're safe. I can do all the worrying from here on out. You just relax."

"I'll be happy to," she said, easing a little space between them so she could study his familiar, ageless features. "I'm ready to be done with it."

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Kyle's terse greeting to Donald. "Sullivan."

His cold, hard tone had them slowly pulling apart and turning toward him. He stood in the shadows, but the bright porch light shone on his dark, angry expression. His stance was combative, his hand folded around the Glock. Rianna was taken aback by his belligerent attitude. He looked like
an
gunfighter itching for a fight.

"Kyle?" Her tone was questioning, but he ignored her and continued to glare at Donald.

"Tremont." Donald returned the greeting. The arm around her waist tightened protectively.

"Rianna's too exposed out here." Kyle ground the words out roughly.

The two men continued to scowl at each other for a few seconds, and then Donald agreed. "You're right." He nudged her toward the doorway. "Let's get inside." To Rianna, he added, "Somebody else is a little anxious to see you."

She shrieked with excitement. "Sophie's here?"

"Against my better judgment, but you know she never listens to anything I say."

They'd barely stepped into the house and closed the door before Rianna was being wrapped tightly in another pair of arms. The women shared cries of joy at seeing each other again. Donald's wife added her enthusiastic welcome with motherly hugs and kisses.

When they'd quieted, Donald made introductions.

"Tremont, this is my wife, Sophie," he said with an amused lift of his brow. "Sophie, this is Kyle Tremont. You've heard me mention him in the past. He used to be one of my agents, but I don't think the two of you ever met."

The slim, attractive redhead freed one hand and reached it to him. He grasped it briefly and nodded in greeting.

"I'll never be able to thank you enough for bringing Mary safely back to us," she insisted.

The
Sullivans
had always used the abbreviated form of Marianna for security purposes. They'd wanted her to retain part of her identity without putting her at risk, so she'd been Mary to them. Just another of her many names.

"She's the daughter of our hearts, and we've been worried sick about her for months," Sophie explained.

Kyle's thunderous expression lightened, and Rianna belatedly realized he'd been jealous of Donald. Her eyes widened at his misconception. Did he think her that dense and insensitive?

She frowned, flashing him a chastising look.

He returned her glance with an arrogant arch of a brow and without apology.

Donald cleared his throat, and Sophie chuckled softly at the byplay. "Boys," she scolded. "None of that macho posturing. We're all adults here."

Rianna just shook her head in disbelief. She actually felt flattered by Kyle's possessive attitude, and she'd never have believed it possible. Maybe she was getting soft in the head.

Or the heart.

That errant thought made her frown. She'd never aspired to be softheaded or softhearted.

"How's your neck?" asked Donald. "Let me see." Rianna slid her hand up to touch the tiny row of stitches.

"What's wrong with your neck?" Sophie asked in alarm. "Did somebody try to strangle you?"

"No, no," Rianna insisted, glancing at Donald for guidance. He gave her a subtle shake of his head. She didn't like lying to Sophie, so she kept her explanation to a minimal. "I got hurt and had to have a couple of stitches, but
it's
fine now."

Sophie frowned, glancing from one of them to the other. Noting their closed expressions, she made a clucking sound of disgust. "Okay, don't tell me. I'm sure it's classified. Just show me and let me decide if it's all right or not."

Rianna turned her back, lifted her hair and tugged the Band-Aid off her neck. Sophie and Donald both shifted closer, studying the sutures. Sophie ran a gentle finger near the slightly raised flesh. Then they both conceded that the wound was healing nicely.

"Does it still hurt?" asked Donald.

"It never hurt very much, but it's starting to itch."

"That's just part of the healing process," chimed Sophie. "Did you need a tetanus shot? Your last one is probably outdated. Are you on antibiotics?"

"The doctor gave me a tetanus booster and a few days' worth of antibiotics," Rianna
lied
, intent on calming her concern. Sophie worried too much over the small things because she knew she had no control over the life-threatening ones.

"But it's never felt like it might be infected," she added. "It's really just a scratch."

Sophie cleared her throat. "Of course it is. Absolutely nothing to worry about. I promise I'm not going to waste time clucking over you like a mother hen." She quickly changed the subject. "Are you hungry? Donald insists that I can only stay a couple of hours. Safety first and all that, but we have time to share a meal."

"Something smells delicious," said Rianna.

"
Your
favorite, of course." Sophie hugged her close again. They led the way down the hall to the kitchen with the men following. "Pot roast with new potatoes and baby carrots. I even outdid myself with dessert. Coconut cream pie with lots of tall, fluffy meringue."

Rianna moaned in delight. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble, but I'm glad you did. My mouth's watering already."

"Consider
yourself
lucky," Donald teased. "My stomach's been growling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but Sophie wouldn't give me a scrap of food until you got home."

"My poor darling," Sophie cooed, wrinkling her nose at her husband. "You do have it rough, don't
you.
"

Their good-natured teasing set the tone for the next hour. Everyone seemed determined to enjoy the meal without letting reality intrude. There was no mention of the ongoing case or anything serious until they'd finished eating.

Over coffee, Donald caught them up on the Haroldson matter. The overwhelming evidence against the man prevented him from using his money or power to influence the courts. None of his wealthy associates was willing to risk supporting him at this point. He was still being held without bond, and his lawyer was starting to discuss the possibility of cutting a deal.

"The district attorney has assured me that the state won't accept a plea bargain. Not unless it's from Rudy Barrick. If he wants to turn state's evidence against Haroldson, then they might bargain for reduced sentences, but nobody is walking in this case."

"Is there any way Mary can avoid testifying?" asked Sophie.

"As the agent assigned to the case, her testimony is crucial," Donald explained. "I wish we could get by with a formal deposition, but her eyewitness accounts need to be heard by the judge and jury. We probably have enough evidence to lock Haroldson away for a few years, but her testimony can keep him behind bars with no chance of parole."

"Couldn't she do one of those video testimonies?" asked Sophie. "Aren't they sometimes used to protect an agent's identity or safety?"

"The judge might allow it," he replied, his tone noncommittal. "But it's not nearly as effective as putting her in the courtroom."

"There could be years of appeals," said Kyle.

"I understood all that from the beginning," Rianna insisted, her tone firm. "I'm totally committed to seeing the process to an end, however long it takes. I will not let him win this battle."

Quiet settled over the room as they all accepted the reiteration of her decision. Then Kyle changed the subject. "What have you learned about
Blaine
? How
long's
he been dirty?"

Before Donald could respond, Rianna added another question. "Was he the mole who kept selling my family's whereabouts to Gregory?" She'd vowed to learn who was responsible for the breach in security that had compromised her family's location every few years.

"I don't see how
Blaine
could have had access to that kind of high-level information," said Kyle.

"He didn't," explained Donald. "When we searched
Blaine
's apartment, we found a ledger that belonged to my predecessor, Bob Mullet. Apparently Bob had been selling information to Haroldson for years."

"Didn't Mullet die a few months after Margie?" asked Kyle.

"Yeah, supposedly of natural causes, but we're checking into that a little closer now, too. From what we can determine,
Blaine
learned about Mullet's involvement though Margie's death and started blackmailing him. When Mullet died,
Blaine
offered himself as Haroldson's new mole."

"And now they're both gone."

Rianna's comment brought silence to the room. The new information went a long way toward answering some unresolved issues regarding her family.

"I'm sure Haroldson is actively recruiting new informants," said Donald. "All we can hope for is to stay one step ahead of him."

"And we still don't know who actually killed my parents and brother."

"Mullet's records might give us another lead on that, too," added Donald. "There's a mention of a hired gun. We think it relates to an international hit man, but that's all we have to work with. No name or country of origin."

"So he could be dead or alive?"