Private Lies

“Secret Service agents protect the president.”

“That’s only one of our functions. The ATF and the Customs Service fall under the Treasury Department. We also investigate a variety of financial crimes.”

Light-headed, knowing it wasn’t the champagne, she raised her gaze to his. “What does the ‘C’ stand for?” She didn’t know her own fiancé’s middle name. How ridiculous was that?

His mouth tipped up on one side. “Colin. After my father. He’s my boss.” He paused. “He reports directly to the undersecretary of enforcement.”

He’d told her his mom and dad had retired to a planned golf community in Florida. Was anything they’d shared real? Would she ever really know? Did she even care?

Gage is a cop. A federal cop. A bark of laughter escaped. Then another. She sank to the floor.

Gage knelt beside her. “You’re upset.”

“You bet your sweet ass I am.”

“And pissed. You’ve cussed at me twice in the last minute.”

“You deserved it.”

His eyes flashed—with regret, with other emotions. Deeper feelings? Or was that, too, a lie? “I’m sorry.”

She glanced at their joined hands, then back to his face. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

He flinched. “It’ll never be the same, will it?”

“No,” she said slowly, her breath catching in her throat, knowing she’d certainly never be the same. “I don’t think it will.”

As she concentrated on controlling her breathing, some part of her started to accept the situation. Gage wasn’t a banker. He didn’t trade stocks or advise on investment strategies. He’d lied to her with every breath he’d taken. That dangerous side she’d sensed was a reality, not a sexual fantasy she’d imagined. Her thoughts in the bar came back to her…as if the charming man she knew, the man she lived with was an act, and this dangerous stranger had risen to take his place.

That was the reality. She drew a breath, then let the air seep. As she rose to her feet, his arms slid around her, and the tension in the room suddenly changed. She remembered way too many nights of whispered passion and shared need. One controlled stroke of his fingers could bring her completion like she’d never known before. Rolling waves of fulfillment, a gasp of surprise. Her stomach clenched at the thought. Warmth sparked between her legs, then spread outward. With him moving inside her, she’d felt powerful, invulnerable.

She wanted that feeling again.

But her world had spun completely around, and he’d caused the pain. No matter how she longed to touch him, she kept her arms stiff at her sides.

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, Rox.”

“I’m sure.”

His hands roamed her back. “Surely you understand why I couldn’t tell you.”

She stepped back. “I don’t.” Then, she added, “I understand why you didn’t at first, but not after we got…close.” Intimate. Supposedly in love. “But not later. We were supposed to be married, Gage.”

He went very still. “Were?”

She’d already put their relationship in the past, she realized. In an effort to convince him? Or herself?

But she wasn’t going there. Too many other problems and questions and lies lay between them. “What about Mettles and Stephano? Who are they?”

“It’s a case. I can’t really divulge—”

She jabbed her finger in his chest. “Well, you’d better start divulging, buddy. I’m not leaving here until I know what the hell is going on.”

He winced. “More cussing?”

She scowled. “I’m in the middle of this mess. Start spilling.”

His face turned stony. “No, you’re not.”

Roxanne wasn’t about to debate the point at the moment, but she’d landed herself in a dangerous mess and escape wasn’t going to be easy. “You owe me an explanation.”

He stared at her silently as the air conditioner clicked on. Finally, he slid his hands into his pockets and said, “I’m investigating a counterfeiting operation. Stephano is the ringleader.”

“And Mettles?”

“Clark Mettles is the brains.”

“You’re kidding.”

“An MIT-educated engineer who thinks crime does pay.”

Disgusted, Roxanne shook her head. “Kids today.”

“We think alike, babe.”

She stiffened. They were so little alike, she wanted to cry.

He crossed to the black, marble-topped bar, then poured himself a drink. “You want something?”

She rubbed her temples. “No. Yes. Coffee.” Sinking onto the sofa, she sighed and wondered if the caffeine would help her get her thoughts in order or just make her jumpy and irritable. “And Gage Angelini?”

“A less than honest, but wealthy businessman willing to invest in the project for a cut of the profits.” He started the coffee, then crossed the room, sitting on the table in front of her. “Is my cover worse than finding out I’m a cop?”

She stared down at her hands, linking her fingers to stop the shaking, then glanced up to find his serious gaze on her face. She’d shared her negative views about loved ones in law enforcement many times. She may have even said she’d never date a cop. “I’m not sure,” she said finally.

He rolled his crystal glass between his hands and said nothing.

From the angle of his body, with his head bowed, his ponytail caught her attention. Truthfully—and God knew she needed a bit of truth at the moment—it fascinated her. Discovering that dark side truly existed, and probably defined the real him, was enticing, tempting her far more than it should.

He lied to you, her conscious reminded her. He’s made a fool of you. He doesn’t care about you. He’s using you…. Though for what she couldn’t imagine.

She shook away these thoughts and concentrated on the ponytail. It had to be fake, of course. Gage’s hair was trimmed conservatively whenever she saw him. She found herself wondering how he’d attached the ponytail and longed to thread her fingers through the black, silky-looking strands. She lifted her hand to—

“It’s an extension.”

She jerked her hand back, embarrassed he’d caught her staring and that she’d nearly touched him. This man was a stranger. He’d lied. He’d proposed. Then he’d lied some more. None of this was real. Nothing about him was real.

“What?” she asked, as if she didn’t know he’d responded to her unspoken curiosity.