Undercover Lovers

She recalled his face—that cocky grin, those brooding eyes. And lashes so long they’d be feminine on any man other than Carter.

A curse. Definitely a curse. And not only because he frustrated her on so many levels. Sure, he’d been her nemesis throughout their tenure at the academy, and sure, he’d gotten the prime assignments while she’d been pounding a keyboard. But she was a big girl. She knew Carter hadn’t been the one holding her back. No, that dubious honor belonged to her superiors. And while she was pissed as hell, she wasn’t pissed at Carter. Well, not much, anyway.

But this was her case. She’d put the pieces together. She’d spent hours getting blisters on her butt while she made phone call after phone call tracking down leads that tied the players to the resort. She’d been the one who’d burned up the Internet trying to find missing pieces of information. And she was the one who’d drafted the report that got the ball rolling.

By all rights, she should be leading the team. But was she? Nope. Once again, Carter had bested her, and she was reporting to him.

The situation stank.

Not that she’d really expected anything else. After all, she’d been stuck in a closet with a computer for the last few years while Carter had been out doing the job she deserved. Not that anyone had ever come out and said anything about her indiscretion with Carter. Instead, her superiors had consistently praised her brains even while citing her past insubordination. Okay, so maybe she didn’t always follow protocol, but lots of agents didn’t, right? The point was to win in the end.

No, Tori was certain that her fate was a product of her impetuous encounter with Carter. Hopefully this new mission meant she’d finally paid her dues and was getting an assignment based on merit.

Of course, it wasn’t as if they’d given her the type of assignment she’d been wanting. She’d hoped to infiltrate a drug ring or buddy up with members of the mob. Instead, she was getting undercover light—pretending to be married at a sex resort. Not what she’d expected, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

And even though she was stuck as the underling, she intended to do everything in her power to shine on this job. And if that meant impressing—and obeying—Carter Sinclair, well, she could handle that.

She’d try anyway. She intended to work her tush off in the process. Because when this was all over, she wanted to be out in the field permanently. And if Carter was her stepping-stone, then so be it. She was ten times the agent he was, and in the end, she’d surely prove it—even while being the subservient little underling.

As it was, she’d already outlined a number of ways they could get the case rolling. Her eyes skimmed over the neatly printed list, only one of many papers in her portfolio. She’d worked on her plan over the course of the entire flight from Washington to California and she had some great ideas for jump-starting their research and investigating the potential perps.

Carter was sure to be impressed.

“Looks like the gang’s all here.”

Tori flinched at the achingly familiar voice behind her. A voice that forced her to admit that, on a certain forbidden level, she was excited about seeing him again. Damn.

Gathering herself, she shifted on the bench to face him. She drew in a quick breath, hoping he didn’t notice. Carter had always been good-looking, but she hadn’t expected the commanding presence she was facing. Somehow, he’d matured since she’d seen him last, and the change suited him.

“Solved the case yet, Lowell?” he asked.

She smiled, the same cool and collected smile she’d used a hundred times to ward off unwelcome advances. “Not just yet, Sinclair. But I’ve got a self-imposed deadline. By noon tomorrow, I’ll have this thing whipped.”

“Noon?” His head cocked slightly as he looked her in the eye. “You’re slipping, Lowell. I plan to have this case wrapped up by ten at the latest.”

She set her jaw. “Dawn, then. I’ll smoke out our bad guy by dawn.” She looked him in the eye. “No matter what, I’ll solve it before you do.”

His mouth twitched, but he didn’t throw another challenge at her. Good. Chalk one up for her side.

With a quick flick, she snapped her portfolio closed, then stood up, her hand out in a formal greeting. “I’ve been working on our plan of attack. I thought we could start at the local paper. I’ve already called their morgue and asked them to pull any articles about the resort so we—”

“Good to see you, too, Tori.” He started walking past her toward the baggage claim area, ignoring her hand and her comments.

Okay. That was not what she had in mind. Gathering her bags, she hurried after him. “Carter?” No response.

Damn it, he was ignoring her on purpose, and she really wasn’t in the mood for that kind of power play.

Determination renewed, she shifted her duffel’s strap on her shoulder and upped her speed, catching up to him as he eased onto the down escalator. She squeezed onto the same step, forcing him toward the handrail, his body close enough that she caught a subtle hint of his aftershave. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you ignore me,” she said.

He turned, leaning against the rail and ignoring the signs imploring him to Please Hold Handrail. For a second he just stood there, looking at her, his eyes dark and dangerous. “We’re not going to get anywhere,” he said, throwing back her words, “if you start working this case on your own without talking to me or the rest of the task force first.”

“Working this—?”

“Calling the newspaper office? What were you thinking? Word could get back to whoever’s running this scam that someone’s poking around. We’re supposed to be undercover, remember? And that means not jumping in wearing bright orange neon.”

Her fingernails dug into her palm as she tried to control her flaring temper. “I’m not an idiot, Sinclair. I said I was a reporter for a travel magazine doing some background research on California resorts. Nothing suspicious. Nothing that’s going to jeopardize your precious first time leading a mission.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to apologize, but he said nothing. Well, fine. Wasn’t this going to be a pleasant assignment?

As they stepped off the escalator, she matched him stride for stride, her irritation growing with each step. “Do you want to hear my other ideas? Or are you going to just keep on ignoring me?” Probably he expected her to simply do whatever he said without question and not even participate. Hell, this was their mission, even if he was technically in charge. And Tori intended to see to it that she was a full participant, no matter what Carter might have planned.

This time he stopped, and she gave herself two mental points. “Look, Tori. I’m tired. I haven’t slept in three days.” He shifted his carry-on to the opposite shoulder, then smiled at her. A real smile, not the least bit condescending. Damn him, how the hell was she supposed to stay righteously indignant if he was going to make nice?

“I’m not ignoring you,” he added. “I just want to get my luggage, get our car and then get on the road. Once we’re on the highway, you can talk all you want.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his baggage claim ticket. “Deal?”

She wanted to argue. Hell, she even opened her mouth and started to. But the facts were the facts, and as much as she hated it, Carter was in charge. Not only that, but he was being civil—at least a little—and that was something she hadn’t really expected considering their history and how they’d started out a few minutes ago.

She couldn’t say her anger melted, but it was definitely getting soft around the edges. And hadn’t her grandmother always said she’d catch more flies with honey? Tori had always hated that saying, but at the moment it seemed uniquely appropriate.

He stood still, waiting for her answer, his arms crossed as a flood of passengers maneuvered around them.

Her instincts told her to fight. To make him understand—right then, right there—that she wasn’t just some second-fiddle partner. She wanted to be part of the decision-making process, and she didn’t intend to let him overshadow her. But something in his eyes stalled her resolve, and she caved.

“Fine,” she said, hoping against hope that she wasn’t somehow handing Carter the upper hand for the entire length of their assignment. She lifted her chin. “We’ll talk in the car.”

CARTER EXHALED in relief. He’d expected a fight. Hell, where Tori was concerned, he always expected a fight. And he had to wonder what had caused her to back off.

Still, he didn’t intend to wonder for too long. Right then, he’d take whatever little gifts she handed him. And he fully anticipated that they’d be sparring like old times once they reached the car.

Right now, though, he needed some time alone. He’d known for days they’d be working together, but it wasn’t until he saw her sitting in the lobby, her shoulder-length brown curls hanging loose as she hunched over a pad of yellow paper, that reality had conked him on the head. He’d seen her sitting there, and all the old feelings had come rushing back—competitiveness, frustration and, yes, desire.

The frustration made sense. After all, she had a reputation for shooting from the hip, and Carter liked to follow the rules. He’d also expected the competitiveness; they’d been neck-and-neck at the academy, and he’d had no reason to expect that either of them would be completely able to keep the past in the past.

The desire, though…Well, that’s what floored him. At the academy, he’d wanted her. No question about it. But she’d only been using him, and, although she’d left him frustrated as hell that night, it wasn’t as if the love of his life had run out on him. No, that bit of lust had been nothing more than hormones. He’d been young and horny, and the fact that she challenged him had excited him.

But he’d grown up since then. No longer did Carter want to be a superagent, spending all his time in the field, surrounding himself with the underbelly of society. No, more and more he was realizing he wanted a simpler lifestyle. He didn’t want to leave the Bureau, but he did want a home. A family. A wife, a couple of kids. Maybe even a dog.

Undercover work didn’t allow for much of a social life, but he’d managed to work in one or two dates in the last few months. And the women he’d gone out with were looking for the same thing he was. They were nice women. All smart and interesting. And not one packed a pistol.

Exactly the kind of women he wanted.

So why was it that after just a few minutes with Tori his body was reacting like he hadn’t gotten laid in a year? Why could he smell her soap even though she was walking a few feet behind him? Why did he have to stifle the urge to turn around and watch the way her breasts moved under that thin cotton T-shirt she wore untucked over her jeans?

Only one answer sprang to mind—that one or two dates over the last few months weren’t enough to satisfy the libido of a guy in his early thirties. Too bad for him the hottest woman he’d run into was a woman with a history of driving him nuts. Thank God for self-control.

Unfortunately for him, though, by the time they reached the baggage claim, his self-control was fading, and his body was on hyperdrive. Not that she’d be interested even if he did make a move. Tori had made it more than clear on numerous occasions that she wasn’t interested in him, and he sincerely doubted anything had changed in that department.

Besides, even if he thought she’d jump at the chance, he still wouldn’t make a move. No matter how hot she was, Carter was a professional. What was between him and Tori was strictly business. And that’s all it would ever be.