Passionate Immunity (2 page)

“What kind of information do you need from me?” she asked, intrigued.

“I’m not certain yet,” Preston replied. He sounded frustrated. A frown twisted his dark features and creases appeared between his eyes.

She could tell his annoyance wasn’t directed at her, personally.

“I need you to come work for me for a short period. Maybe just a few days, but possibly as much as a week.”

Kimber felt her eyes widen in surprise. Her mind raced.

“I have plenty of leave,” she replied. “Heaven knows it’s been forever since I’ve been on holiday. But Preston…I still don’t really understand. Surely you have people and resources at your work already who have far more knowledge than I do. Why me?”

Preston winced and looked around her tiny, empty office. He pushed his chair forward and lowered his voice.

Excitement thrummed through her veins as she bent her head to listen more closely.

“I’m not sharing state secrets,” he assured her, “but I know you well enough to believe you can keep this to yourself, Kimber.”

Kimberly nodded, moving forward on her chair, eager to hear more. Preston took a careful breath and studied her. She could see him weighing his options.

“I’m cleaning up a mess left by a traitor. The woman who held my job before me betrayed this country and the Agency I work for. There’s been an audit of her files and documents. It’s been brought to my attention there might be something underhand occurring in a medical clinic we sometimes use as a front. The finance people don’t fully understand the medical jargon, but because this woman betrayed us, many of the upper managers are feeling understandably paranoid. You’re not involved with any of this history or the politics intertwined with this, so to a degree that makes you completely trustworthy. Better still, I can personally vouch for you and your integrity.”

Kimber smiled. The praise from Preston made her feel warm. Feeling grateful and a bit shy, she tugged on a lock of her hair. Preston continued.

“I plan to assign two of my best agents to work with you. A seasoned veteran and his new partner, a younger but still excellent man. They’ll be there to protect you, but also do all the wet work. Felicity will have my balls if any harm comes to you, so you’re to gather intelligence, go through the files and possibly help scout out the facility. No heroics and no danger. I can already see the stars in your eyes, but I’m telling you it will mostly be paperwork. Going over reports and the like. I’d think that would be all the adventure you come across and then my men will take over. Are we clear?”

Kimber’s eyes widened once again as Preston’s meaning sank in. It might be only the one job, but she was going to assist in a real, honest-to-goodness
investigation
.

“I get to go on a mission?” she repeated, all his cautions, warnings and strict rules ignored as her imagination took wild flight. “I’d get to be…what? A secret agent? Working for Queen and country? I’d be a female James Bond? Truly?”

“Not in the least. Kimberly Melmoth, you listen to me,” Preston insisted, strain lines already showing around the corner of his mouth. Were it not physically impossible, Kimber could well believe he’d have gone several shades paler.

“Kimber, this will be paperwork, data-mining reports and possibly a simple, placid look through a medical facility. No more. Do you hear me?”

She outwardly assented. Had she been entirely truthful about the matter—and not caught up in a dozen flights of fancy—she would have had to admit Preston’s strictures had gone in one ear and straight out the other. She beamed as if he had given her the moon. With a head full of every adventure novel and action movie she had ever seen racing behind her eyes she imagined shootouts, thrilling car chases and desperate heroes racing through flames as buildings exploded around them.

Kimber saw herself in a slinky cocktail dress with impossibly high stiletto heels. In her fantasy she was running out of an architecturally gorgeous building. The hero would sweep her into his arms after they’d defied death yet again. He would passionately kiss her, his lips pressed to hers as she wound her legs around his waist, and his long brown hair would sweep over her face, shielding her from any onlookers. Then her hero would lift her up into his strong arms and carry her off—

“Holy fuck, what have I done?” Preston muttered. It took Kimber a moment to register his words, her mind consumed by her daydream.

She blinked and looked at him, attempting to appear innocent. “What? What?”

Preston rubbed a hand over his face and mumbled something to himself.

Cocking her head to the side, Kimber leaned in and caught the tail end of it.

“…thank fuck Walters at least has a solid head on his shoulders. Flick is going to murder me when I tell her what I’ve set in motion.”

“Why will Felicity kill you? You said it yourself, I’ll be fine. Though it won’t be my fault if while I’m at the medical facility I happen to snoop a little and—”

“Not a chance in hell,” Preston snapped. Kimber deflated. For the first time ever she saw the determined, powerful man he could be in his professional life.

“But—”

“No. End of story. If you go off half-cocked, Kimberly, I won’t bring you in at all.”

Kimber swallowed hard, feeling chastised. She nodded meekly. Now she’d had the lure of adventure, passion and romance dangled in front of her she refused to have it taken away again. Preston wouldn’t be there when it counted, only two of his underlings. She could easily bend the rules once she was out from under his scrutiny.

Wanting to change the subject before Preston retracted his offer, she asked the next thing that entered her head, hoping to defuse the situation.

“Who’s Walters? You mentioned him just a minute ago.”

“Tristan Walters is one of our most seasoned agents,” Preston replied, seemingly distracted. “He lost his partner just a few months ago and is currently helping to give a bit of polish to one of our newer recruits, Lucas Sloan. They’re the men I plan to assign to this case. Once you’ve given them a good understanding of what’s going on it will be they—and not you—who put this all to bed. So please don’t get any wild ideas.”

Kimber stood, smart enough to not reply one way or the other to that comment. She shrugged out of her white lab coat and gathered her belongings. She still needed to clean up her samples and get herself organised for the following morning. While it was still fresh in her mind, she scribbled out a quick list of tasks she needed to do in her notebook. After a minute there were a dozen or more items she needed to perform to wrap up her current workload and take leave without anything falling behind.

“Do I start tomorrow?” she asked.

Preston nodded.

“Give me time to bring Walters and Sloan up to date,” he said. Preston drew out a business card from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Will eleven tomorrow morning be too early for you to have this all sorted out?”

Kimber shook her head. “Oh no, I usually start early. I can email my manager and request the leave before I go home tonight. I’ll just need to talk to my co-workers and make sure a few of my longer-term tests can be covered, but it won’t be a hassle. Heaven knows I’ve helped everyone else often enough.”

Preston stood and faced her, looking faintly pained. Kimber laughed and hugged her friend once more.

“I’m not some dewy-eyed ingénue, Preston,” she insisted. “You’ve already assigned what I can only presume will be two hulking, large bodyguards for a simple reconnaissance mission. What could possibly go wrong with reading a bunch of reports and nosing around a medical lab?”

Preston winced and tugged her ponytail in a brotherly fashion.

“Never say that, Kimber. Never say ‘what could possibly go wrong’. All too often it’s the unknown factors that trip you up. If I genuinely thought there was the least bit of danger I’d have never mentioned it, I’d forbid you to come anywhere near this. But Felicity has told me so often how much you long for adventure, and how a simple case like this would be perfect for you. I thought it would be fun. I didn’t realise I’d start getting ulcer pains before I’d even left from offering this to you.”

Kimber grinned. “Don’t worry, Preston. You and Felicity are wonderful friends, and I appreciate this. You said so yourself, there’s nothing to be concerned about, this will be a simple matter of explaining some research and reports. There’s no need for you to work yourself up over it. I can handle myself. Besides, I bet this will be fun.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Preston replied glumly.

Kimber grinned once more as her friend turned and walked out of her office like a man heading towards his doom.

Chapter One

Tristan Walters winced as he rotated his right shoulder. It was more from the memory of the pain he’d been in for almost two months, rather than the actual stiffness he felt now. The gunshot wound, still fresh in his mind, had healed as much as it ever would. Only the week before he had been confident the worst of his discomfort was behind him.

But now, with London expecting some bad weather, his shoulder ached once more.

“I think I can safely forecast rain in the next few hours,” he told the young, blond man sitting at the desk opposite him. Tristan ran his left hand over his dark brown hair, conscious even without a mirror of the silver beginning to salt itself through the strands.

It hadn’t been until two months ago he’d started to feel his age. He’d lost his Agency partner in the same fight he’d sustained the gunshot wound. Jasper Peterson and he had worked together for almost ten years. Neither of them had been virginal novices—they both had known full well the danger and risk inherent in their work.

That knowledge hadn’t stopped the pain of mourning a good friend and colleague. Preston Jones had transferred in while Tristan had still been doped up on a remarkable cocktail of painkillers and slowly recovering in the hospital. Preston had taken over from their old manager—who had been in collusion with the terrorist directly responsible for Jasper’s death.

When Tristan had returned to work less than a fortnight later, Preston had brought in Lucas Sloan and introduced him to Tristan as his new partner. Like many partnerships, they had begun rockily. Tristan hadn’t been in the mood to break in a newbie, especially not one who appeared to have only just passed his thirtieth birthday. The man had been still wet behind his ears and that was something Tristan wasn’t sure he’d wanted to be responsible for.

Feeling like the stereotypical cranky old man despite the fact he still had a few months before he hit forty, Tristan hadn’t exactly given the man a warm welcome.

Keeping his temper on a short fuse was the fact he’d been relegated to desk duty—mostly paperwork and organising the schedules and week’s roster. It was all busy stuff designed to keep up the appearance of him being one of the team. Tristan found himself frequently grinding his teeth in order to stop himself from snapping at his colleagues. Being chained to his desk felt like the end of the world, and despite knowing it was temporary, the mind-numbing nature of the files was soul-destroying.

All through this Lucas had been patient, something Tristan had appreciated but had not been able to bring himself to acknowledge. As he’d healed, Tristan had found himself chuckling now and then at a quip Lucas would make, or zinging the man with a witty rejoinder.

It had been almost a fortnight after their introduction when Tristan had first invited Lucas down to the local for a pint after their day had ended. The two men had started talking superficially, but the wind-down sessions after a shift had become a semi-regular thing. Slowly, the ice had begun to melt between them.

Now, two months later, while Tristan didn’t think they would qualify as best mates, there was a level of understanding and trust between them. Time and experience would solidify their partnership.

“Who needs the weatherman when my partner is a walking meteorology indicator?” Lucas joked. He tilted his head, the long strands of his blond fringe fell into his eyes and Tristan snorted.

“Bet you twenty pounds over the next six months my shoulder and I predict the rain more accurately than the Met Office do, too.”

Lucas appeared to be about to reply when Preston stuck his head out of the door to his office. “Walters! Sloan! In here, now.”

The two men exchanged equally blank looks.

“Do you know what this is about?” Lucas asked. They both pushed away from their desks and stood.

“Not a clue,” Tristan replied. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I have my final medical later this afternoon to clear me for active duty. We weren’t supposed to be assigned anything new until tomorrow.”

“Then it must be something big,” Lucas postulated as they walked side by side towards Preston’s office.

“Or boring,” Tristan added pessimistically.

Preston Jones had shown himself to be a tough but fair leader. His door always stood open unless he was in the middle of a private meeting. Over six foot of muscle, still evidently in shape from his years in the Army and with a no-nonsense manner, Preston had gone over well with most of the agents. His black hair was still buzzed short, but there was no mistaking the sharp look in his dark eyes. Unlike his field days though, Preston now generally wore dark suits and looked the part of a manager.

Tristan and Lucas both deeply respected the man.

Preston stood behind his desk with a manila folder in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other. He glanced up as Lucas and Tristan entered the office. Preston nodded to the two chairs in front of his desk and returned his attention to the reports he seemed to be in the middle of sorting.

“Close the door and have a seat, gentlemen,” Preston said without looking at either of them again.

Tristan held out a hand and slowly pushed the door closed. Simultaneously both he and Lucas exchanged another silent glance. Tristan cocked an eyebrow. Lucas shrugged.

The partners sat in unison, a clear show of mutual support and solidarity that reminded Tristan how far they’d come in recent months.