Mommy Under Cover

Mercy.

“I’m probably stating the obvious here, but if my wife becomes pregnant through insemination, how will we get our perfect baby?” Riley asked, his voice sounding considerably sturdier than Tessa suddenly felt.

“I’ll remove the embryo, perform the DNA manipulation and then replace it in utero.”

Even though she wasn’t a doctor, Tessa was somewhat well versed in fertility procedure. And she was pretty certain that the DNA manipulation after conception wasn’t medically possible.

In other words, this was a scam.

Jeez.

That was both good news and bad news. Good, because it meant the doctor wasn’t really doing any DNA manipulation. Bad, because the scam still involved a medical procedure. It meant headquarters might not approve continuation of the mission once they learned she’d have to submit herself to artificial insemination to gain closer access to Fletcher’s facilities.

However, if she stopped things now, it might take another team months to get an appointment with Fletcher.

If at all. And he could end up walking away.

Tessa took another look at the doctor. Her instincts screamed that this man needed to be stopped. Somehow. Even if it was just on fraud charges.

And she was the one who could do it. “Couldn’t we just do this the old-fashioned way, Doctor? And call you once I’m pregnant?”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Tate, this is a very time-sensitive procedure. Both on the embryo’s part and mine. It works best if you are carefully monitored from the moment of insemination and, hopefully, conception. Otherwise, when you discover you’re pregnant, I may not be available and/or the embryo may already be too old for the procedures.”

Tessa didn’t know how she could argue with that and still appear to be a woman desperate for one of Dr. Fletcher’s babies. “All right,” she said.

Riley’s gaze snapped toward her. “All right?”

“You heard what Dr. Fletcher said,” Tessa reiterated, adding a nervous laugh. She didn’t have to fake the nervous part, either. “The insemination’s necessary, and the end result won’t be…well, an ordinary baby. So, of course, we’ll do it.”

All that was left was to convince headquarters—and Riley—that the success of this mission hinged on her agreeing to this simple procedure.

No easy task.

Especially since the procedure would be performed by a killer.

Chapter Three

Riley stood in the marbled foyer of the estate and waited while Tessa ran the detector wand over every inch of her clothes.

Not once, but twice.

When she finished, she passed the detector his way and Riley did the same.

No telltale soft beeps, which he hoped meant Fletcher hadn’t managed to attach some type of monitoring device to either Tessa or him.

Other than a phony, laughter-punctuated conversation in the limo about the upcoming joys of parenthood, Tessa and he had yet to talk. Really talk. Unfortunately that would have to continue a while longer, even though he had some questions. Well, one question in particular. They also had to give a situation report to their mission commander.

Another potential problem.

The commander had no doubt monitored their limo conversation to ascertain if they were indeed safe, but since neither Tessa nor he had mentioned the insemination, no one back at headquarters had a clue as to what they were up against.

Soon, they would.

And this mission could be terminated.

The possibility sickened him. He desperately wanted to bring Dr. Barton Fletcher to justice, and that wouldn’t happen if the mission stalled. Of course, if it didn’t stall, there was that whole other issue.

A whopper of an issue.

A potential baby. A real one.

Oh, man.

Talk about the ultimate complication. That was something they’d definitely have to get straight.

He damn sure hadn’t signed on to this ops to become a parent.

“Wanna play in the shower?” Tessa asked, making it sound like a carnal invitation to her husband instead of a required security measure for her partner.

“I’d love to.”

Translation? Let’s wash any potential transmitter chips off before we talk.

Tessa took the modified suitcase from beneath the antique table in the foyer and started to shed her clothes. Riley turned his back to her and did the same.

Tossing in an occasional seductive laugh and more of those mumbled sweet nothings, they stripped down to their underwear and put their clothes in the suitcase. After they were in the shower, the rookie SIU agent, Chris Ingram, who was posing as the butler-housekeeper-chauffeur, would whisk the suitcase away so it could be analyzed.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Tessa purred. She headed toward the stairs. “I mean, after your, uh, little donation at the clinic?”

“The donation in no way lessened my appetite for you, darling.”

From over her shoulder she gave him a “good one” nod. Probably her idea of placating him.

It wouldn’t work.

He was still riled about that “all right” response she’d given to Fletcher about the insemination. They should have pressed the issue, then and there. They should have found a way around it, then and there. But instead, Tessa had closed down the discussion with her little “all right.”

And this from the woman who just that morning had raked him over the coals about bending rules.

What the heck had she been thinking anyway?

Riley intended to find that out as soon as they finished showering, but a confrontation with her was still minutes away. Minutes to think about how they were going to get out of this one.

He was still in the middle of his own personal but silent gripe session when he glanced at Tessa on the steps just ahead of him. Specifically he glanced at her underwear. Sturdy cotton. White, at that. No provocative lace or silk. No barely there swatches. No padded, push-up anything. Just a plain white bra and a pair of panties.

Hell.

And what was he doing noticing that?