Covert Agent's Virgin Affair

“Get out of the area. Go to Florida for a while. I don’t want to see your face around here until your nose heals. Is that clear?”

If it wasn’t clear, the boss figured the pro he hired could take care of Truman the same way as he would take care of the undercover agent in their midst.

Permanently.

Chapter 4

“Ow!” Mary rammed her hip into the book cart for the third time this morning.

Darn it. Why couldn’t she watch where she was going? After all, she’d been employed as the assistant librarian here at the Honey Creek library for the past eight years. Certainly by now she should know where everything was located.

Absolutely nothing had been going right. Not since she and Jake had parted ways last Saturday morning in the parking lot of the Bozeman hotel. That morning had been so hopeful—so full of promise. They’d exchanged cell phone numbers and had stolen a few public kisses.

He’d said he would call. But her friend Susan told her that was what they all said.

Not in romance novels. In her favorite books the couples might have their troubles, but things always worked out in the end. If a hero said he would do something, he did it. The heroic characters she’d read about in romance novels were what had given her the idea that a man could be trusted.

Not that she’d had many examples of that in real life.

Nothing her father had ever said was the truth. He’d cheated on her mother. He’d probably cheated his business partners and friends. He’d even cheated about his own death.

Jake was not like her father. Yet Jake had said he would call, and here it was a rainy Tuesday morning and no word yet.

Why couldn’t she get over what had happened between them? Yes, he’d been her first lover and she knew a woman’s first was supposedly a big deal. But this yearning to make love to him all over again seemed to have put her under a spell. A strong and unyielding spell. Was that natural? Being reckless wasn’t like her. Or at least not like the person she used to be.

If she could just see him again. Maybe she would discover that he wasn’t everything she remembered. Maybe.

A squeal of delight coming from the children’s book section caught Mary’s attention. She started walking that way to find out which book had enthralled the little girl.

One of the biggest changes Mary wanted to make in her life was having kids. She wanted one, or maybe two—or three. Now that she’d lost the weight and it was possible to think about such things, it seemed children were on her mind a lot.

As she passed by the computer stations, empty at this hour, she fought the urge to stop and look up Jake Pierson. To check up on his background. But she would never do that without telling him first. It seemed dishonest.

“Mary, may I speak to you a moment?” Mrs. Banks, the head librarian, motioned from her office.

Mary changed course and headed her way. She’d been meaning to have a serious conversation with her boss for the past couple of days. Ever since she’d decided to change her whole life. But, well, the time had never seemed quite right.

Mrs. Banks ushered her into the tiny office and shut the door behind them. “Have a seat, Mary. I’d like to tell you something. My husband has decided to retire from his job and he wants us to move to Arizona. He likes the weather there.”

“No kidding?” Mary couldn’t imagine living anywhere else but Honey Creek. This was home. All her family and friends were here, along with everything else she knew and loved.

Mrs. Banks put her hand up as if she was about to say something profound. “I gave three weeks’ notice to the Library Board last night. They asked me to suggest my replacement.”

Mary began shaking her head before her boss even finished her thought.

Mrs. Banks must’ve noticed the denial in Mary’s expression because she gave her the cordial smile of a long-time business comrade. “I know you don’t have the credentials, Mary. But if you really want the job, I’ll go to bat for you.”

Mary’s boss had been her mentor from the beginning, and Mrs. Banks must’ve assumed Mary wanted what she wanted. She did not.

“You could always get your master’s degree in Library Science while you worked,” Mrs. Banks added. “It’ll be difficult to accomplish both at the same time in this small town, but it’s possible.”

“Thanks.” Mary’s mouth rushed to say something else, but her mind was lagging as she fought to find the right words. “But…I… I’ve been meaning to tell you…I’ve been thinking about quitting myself.”

Mrs. Banks raised eyebrows expressed what she thought of that idea. “You don’t want to work at the library anymore? What will you do?”

Good question. One Mary had been mulling over for weeks. “I have a few ideas. But I was hoping for a little time to check things out.”

“Does this have anything to do with the authorities finding your father’s body last week?”

“No.” And that was the truth. Her father had nothing whatever to do with her wanting to make some changes. After all, she’d lost over a hundred pounds on her own—before his body had been found for the second time.

“I see. Then I can tell the board to look for someone else?”

Mary nodded, but bowed her head rather than face the disappointment in Mrs. Banks’s eyes.

“Okay then. A young woman who used to live in Honey Creek recently contacted me about a job.” Mrs. Banks’s expression was thoughtful. “I’ll check on her qualifications. In the meantime, Mary, if you need a few days off, the best time would be during the next couple of weeks. While I’m still here and can watch over a temp.”

Mary agreed to take time off, starting tomorrow, and then she left her boss’s office as quickly as possible. Now she’d done it. Big changes would be coming at her fast. Whether she was ready for them or not.

Outside the Honey Creek library at 5:00 p.m. on a drizzly Tuesday evening, Jake leaned against his rental SUV and waited for Mary to get off work.

Torn between duty and his awakening feelings for Mary, Jake had spent the better part of four days secretly meeting with the Honey Creek sheriff and assuring himself that Mary had absolutely nothing to do with Wes’s current murder investigation. Somewhere along the line, Jake had found himself hoping he’d been totally wrong about Mary and that she was the murderer. That notion would be infinitely better than the idea of her as an innocent bystander that he was using for his investigation.

But no. Mary was exactly what she seemed.

Sweet. Naive. Trusting. And no longer a virgin, due to his asinine lack of self-control.

A trickle of cold summer rain eased down the back of Jake’s neck, but he shook it off. He deserved to stand in a frozen hell for what he’d done to Mary—for what he intended to do.

His head came up when he spotted her at the library’s front door. She was opening an umbrella and making her way down the stairs past the building’s wide white columns.

Damn, but she was pretty. Even wet and dressed in a plain gray dress that seemed suitable only for a librarian. The sight of her made things twist inside him, and that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for her to come closer. It was starting to register in his idiot’s mind that Mary might be in real danger. Honey Creek had at least one murderer lurking about. And Jake’s gut was telling him that whether or not Mark Walsh’s death and his own money-laundering investigation were linked, one murder could easily become two.

He’d been trying to narrow down the possible suspects, but found it difficult without knowing the people involved. He’d come to the conclusion that the best plan was to meet the various townsfolk. Maybe he could gain access to a couple of their personal computers and files.

And what better way to accomplish those goals than in the company of a beautiful, sexy woman—who might be in need of a protector?

But he swore there would be no more intimate nights. No more erotic touches and starry-eyed kisses. His conscience couldn’t take it.

“Jake?” Mary stood a few feet away in the rain, staring up at him. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were the color of a pale ale today and clouded with questions.

He wished he could give them to her. “Waiting for you. And hoping you’ll come to dinner with me.”

“That would be nice. But where have you—”

Gathering her in his arms, he rushed her around the car and seated her in the passenger seat before she could change her mind—or ask any difficult questions. He didn’t want to give her a chance to think too much. Not about dinner. And especially not about him.