Authors: Laura Kitchell
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #contemporary romance, #spy romance, #sexy spy, #contemporary london romance, #covert lover, #spy in london
“No. If I may, I’d like to have a drink at
the bar.”
“Certainly, ma’am. Please sit wherever you
like.”
Jaeda smiled, a practiced curl of her lips
that looked more genuine than her own, real smile. She turned on
her heel and sauntered to a vacant stool and settled. In a casual
move she meant to seem meaningless to anyone watching, she draped
her coat over the stool next to hers. The hardness of her gun under
the folds reassured her.
Through her lashes, she glimpsed the man at
the back. He didn’t stare, but he cast furtive glances her way. Not
glances of sexual interest. No. The man had a watchful awareness
she recognized from working with other agents. He knew what she
was, but did he know why she had come to The Barrister’s Press?
Only one way to find out.
“An apple martini,” she ordered from the
nearest bartender then slid from her stool. With her eyes on a
payphone next to the mysterious man, she walked with confidence
until she stood by his chair. She picked up the handset and said in
a voice too low for anyone but the man to hear, “Is that a
rook
in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?”
“Indeed,” he said in a voice more fitting for
a college student than a man of mystery. “A
rook
for your
queen, Desire.”
“You shouldn't be here. I’m on a meet. You
need to leave,” she said, talking into the handset and staring at
the wall above the phone. “I know how to reach you.”
“I’m here for your safety,” said Rush.
Jaeda cut a look sideways at him and
witnessed a bright gleam in his pale eyes. He had come for the
thrill of the hunt. Damn him. “Leave or I’ll report you to the
director.”
He audibly gulped, and Jaeda replaced the
handset. Squaring her shoulders, she stalked to her stool and
resumed her place. Her drink waited. Yes! A little liquid courage,
but not enough to impair her judgment.
Rush strode past, appearing none too pleased,
but it served him right. A moment after he left, the main entrance
opened, letting in men’s laughter. Deep, cultured voices chatted as
coats were checked. Glancing at her watch, Jaeda discovered the
time had come. Her target had arrived.
Chapter Two
Jaeda stiffened as the hairs on the back of
her neck bristled. That had never happened. Who was this guy,
anyway? Was it even Mr. Jameson?
“Hey, Teague. Where are you going?”
Yeah, he had arrived.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” came a
refined man’s voice in the most captivating of Cambridge-trained
accents. He stood close enough to touch her. “I’m just going to get
a drink first.” He seemed to talk to his friends, but his subdued
tone sounded in her ear, as if he said it for her benefit.
“Never knew him to want a drink so badly,”
said his friend, his nasal voice fading as he moved toward the
dining area.
Jaeda inhaled deeply, enjoying the masculine
scent of sandalwood and allspice that dominated in his cologne. His
shoulder brushed hers as he leaned over the bar to get the
attention of a bartender. He did it on purpose, and she smiled. She
had two empty stools on either side. He had no reason to stand so
close other than wanting to. He made this too easy.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I seem to be blocking
the way to your drink.”
His low chuckle was so close it actually
rustled her hair against her cheek. “It’s not the drink you’re
obstructing. It’s any attempt I make at logical thought that you
obstruct.”
Oh, now he delivered that line flawlessly.
She considered playing the ditz for a fleeting moment, but
something in his tone told her he would have a greater appreciation
for an intelligent, challenging prey.
She turned slightly and nearly lost her
ability to breathe. Heather green eyes watched her with weathered
crinkles at the corners. His skin spoke of long periods outside,
but he didn’t appear older than his mid-thirties. Light brown hair
swept away from his square face in well-groomed waves, and his gray
suit screamed money from every seam and every weave of its fine
wool blend. The dimple in his chin held strength, yet amusement
shined in his eyes, softening his features.
“What can I get you, Mr. Jameson?” asked the
bartender.
Get a grip.
Jaeda gave herself a
mental shake. What had she unknowingly revealed in that moment of
weakness?
“The usual,” he said without taking his eyes
from Jaeda’s.
The man was smooth. She’d give him that.
“Gin and tonic, coming right away,” said the
bartender as he sidestepped away to do his work.
Teague Jameson eased a hip toward the stool
at her side, and Jaeda slid her coat out of the way before he could
sit on her gun. While transferring the cover to the stool on her
other side, she raised a knee to cross her legs. She held it aloft
long enough to send her skirt riding up, revealing the top of her
thigh high.
He noticed, not hiding his appreciation as
his gaze caressed what she showed.
“So your name is Mr. Jameson. Tell me, Mr.
Jameson, do you plan to hit and run, or do you intend to take
responsibility for the damage you’ve done?”
His lips parted to flash straight, white
teeth – so unusual for a British man in the business sector. “I’ve
damaged you, have I?”
“You have,” she said with a decisive nod.
“There isn’t a man in London who could interest me now. You’ve
ruined me.”
The crinkles at the corners of his eyes
deepened a moment before he barked a delighted laugh. “Perhaps I
might take responsibility if we were on equal terms.”
“Meaning…?”
“You know my name, but I don’t know
yours.”
He seemed so at ease. She wondered if he
pretended, as she did. “Okay,
Mr. Jameson
. My name is
Ms.
Bennett
. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Amazed he hadn’t yet
commented on her American accent, she held out a hand.
He didn’t shake it. Instead, he slid his
fingers along hers, gently bent them at the knuckles, and placed a
soft kiss on the back of her hand. “Please,
Ms. Bennett
,
call me Teague.”
“Teague? What an unusual name. But I imagine
it’s fitting, isn’t it? An unusual man like yourself couldn’t well
call himself Tom or Charles or Bernard, now could you?”
His eyes narrowed a fraction, but his smile
grew. “You're charming.”
“Am I? Well, Teague, since we’re moving
toward a first-name basis, I suppose you may call me Jaeda.”
Warning bells went off in her head but she ignored them. This
assignment afforded her first opportunity to exchange names with a
target. Her training had taught her to use truths where possible to
avoid giving off body language associated with lying. She had no
reason to lie to Teague Jameson…yet.
“Jaeda. And here you were teasing me for
my
unusual name. I’ve never met anyone named Jaeda. It’s as
beautiful as you. I suppose that gives us something in common,
wouldn’t you say? A name that fits so well?” He tilted his head a
bit.
“Your drink, Mr. Jameson,” said the
bartender, sliding it across polished wood.
“Thank you.” He took it and held it with both
hands but didn’t sip. “I find myself at a loss,” he admitted with a
crooked grin.
“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one,” she
said, offering him her practiced smile. “Have I ruined you, then?
The way you’ve ruined me?”
His grin melted. “You have, I’m afraid.”
Afraid
? Did she blow it? Her mind
began calculating an alternative to gaining access to his house.
But the director had given her a direct order.
Capture his
heart
. There had to be more in this assignment than gaining
documents. They must need something from his memory… something he
would share only with someone he trusted. She had to push him into
a commitment. Now.
“I suppose it would be best if we part ways
immediately.” She reached for her coat. “All the better to get over
one another sooner so we may move on.”
“Move on…” He grew thoughtful. “And what’s to
say we’re meant to move on?”
“A chance meeting in a bar? Hardly the making
of the world’s greatest love story, I shouldn’t think.” She raised
a hand to indicate her readiness for the bill to the bartender.
Teague took her wrist and lowered her arm to
the bar. “I’ve heard worse.”
“Have you? Such as…?”
“A chance meeting at the fruit market.”
Jaeda nodded sagely. “Not a great story, but
still better than a seedy bar meeting.”
“Seedy, you say? Hmmm. What would you say to
two members of a wedding party shagging at the reception then
falling madly in love?”
“That’s seedy, I’ll grant you. And you know
people who did this?”
“Not exactly.” He grinned. “Okay, no. Not at
all. But it shows there are worse ways of meeting. Let’s think up
other ways worse than meeting in a bar.”
Jaeda still detected doubt in his demeanor.
She had to take him a step further. Grasping her coat, she swiveled
on her stool and hopped off. “Let’s not and say we did.” She raised
her hand for the bartender.
“Wait.” Indecision played across his
features. “Tell me you’re not racing home to a boyfriend or
husband.”
“I’m not racing home to a boyfriend or
husband.”
He glanced at the ring finger on her left
hand. He didn’t trust her. Good man.
“Tell me you’re not returning to America any
time soon.”
Jaeda sighed and flung her coat to cover her
shoulders. “I’m not returning to America any time soon, that I’m
aware of. I’ve been here five years, so I can’t imagine I’m headed
across the pond for quite a while.”
“You’ve been here five years and I’ve never
met you? How is that possible?” He appeared genuinely
perplexed.
She fought the urge to giggle. “I imagine we
don’t run in the same circles. I just happened to be in this area
tonight and not looking forward to a trip home in this weather. It
can be so depressing to walk into an empty place. I don’t even have
a pet. It’s enough to drive a girl to drink.” She hadn’t meant to
tell
that
much truth, but he really appeared to want a
reason to ask her not to leave. It flattered her.
Okay, maybe she
should
go. He had
begun to get past her guard. Perhaps she needed a night to gather
her wits and come at him again in the morning. The bartender placed
a bill next to her half-full martini, and she reached for it.
Teague put a hand over the scrap of paper
before she could reach it. “Don’t go.”
Success!
Chapter Three
Jaeda’s mind worked overtime. She had to get
him out of the club and alone. The more she associated with the
people around him, the more easily they could identify her when the
assignment ended. Of course, the agency protected her…to a certain
extent, but she always endeavored to minimize complications. It
increased her value and reputation in the field.
Teague looked over his shoulder toward the
men who had come with him. “Would you like to join me with my—”
“It’s been a long day,” she interrupted. “Oh,
I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
He studied her a moment, his gaze landing on
the coat draped over her shoulders. “Nothing. You know what? It’s
been a long day for me, too. Fridays always are. What do you say we
take a drive?”
“That sounds lovely.” She beamed her
toothiest smile, delighted when his face lit.
“Don’t move,” he said, holding up a staying
hand. “I’ll be right back.” He pulled a bill from his wallet and
tossed it on the bar. “I’m serious,” he said, scooting off his
stool. “Don’t go anywhere.”
She chuckled and shook her head. She liked
his concern. It let her know she had secured his interest – a job
well done. Not that she would give him the slip, anyway. She had
acquired her target and achieved her first goal. He’d have a tough
time getting rid of her.
As he headed for the dining area, she admired
the tapered cut of his suit jacket, the way it showed his broad
shoulders and slim waist in the most complimentary way. Mmm. This
would be her most fun assignment yet, only to rival her very first
assignment in excitement.
He spoke to the men who appeared to ask him
questions, and when they glanced her way, she turned her back. The
less they saw of her face, the better. To play it safe, she
meandered toward the short hallway leading to the exit. In order to
keep her face concealed, she pretended to adjust her curls.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the
coat check man open his mouth to say something. He didn’t get a
chance, however. A thick-skinned hand with long fingers and
manicured nails reached around her and took her coat. Jaeda jerked,
afraid he would question the weight of the gun, or worse, brush
against its hardness. He said nothing, though, as he held the
trench coat. She straightened her arms behind, and he slid it onto
her. Brushing her throat, his fingertips sent prickling awareness
up and over her scalp. She shivered deliciously.
Fastening the tie at her coat's waist, she
led the way to the door, enjoying the feel of his hand at the small
of her back. No man had made that protective gesture since her
father when he had accompanied her into college graduation.
Stiffening her spine, she shook off the nostalgia.
She needed her wits about her.
Teague Jameson impressed her. She admired his
confidence, his intelligence and his savvy. And the fact that she
found him sexy and good-looking made her head spin a bit. Yeah, she
had to keep her wits about her.
Outside, he raised an arm and a silver Rolls
Royce rolled around the corner to pull alongside the curb. The
driver, a tall man in a smart gray tweed suit and black bowler,
stepped out and came around to hold the door to the backseat.
“Ma’am,” he said, acknowledging Jaeda with a touch to the brim of
his hat.