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Chapter 9

Author: Desiree Holt
last update Last Updated: 2022-04-29 14:06:55

Regan was the central point of information as they spent the morning going over the basic facts as they knew them so everyone had as comprehensive a picture of the situation as possible. Everyone had questions about the people involved and how the extraction would work if it had to happen before the three-day meeting was over. She and Si answered all of them.

George and Kevin would be the backup crew, monitoring any calls from the special phones Max and Regan would have if they couldn't get through to Si, and constantly in touch with any resources they might need. They were also working with an unexpected bonus on the ground. In checking all key personnel in the area, he'd discovered that Lou Valenti, the county sheriff, was also a former SEAL. He'd gotten clearance to be read in, and the man had nearly been shocked out of his shorts.

"Jed Whitlow and his wife have owned that hunting lodge forever," he'd told Si. "They're around a lot during hunting season, but in the past couple of years they've entertained guests for a few days every few months. Was this what they were planning the whole time they've been here?"

"Appears so," he confirmed. "It's a long story how this particular group got together and I'll fill you in on that. But for now, you need to keep this between us and assure me you're here if we need you."

"That's not a problem. But if we're going to meet again, I'd just as soon we did it in the next county. These people are obsessive about their privacy, and now I can see why. We don't want them to know you and I are connected in anyway."

"So that's what we did," Si told everyone after filling them in. "We actually met up two counties away in a strip club, believe it or not. Lou knows the owner, and he let us use his office. Lou will be our boots on the ground in the target location."

This afternoon, they'd begin to drill Max and Regan on each of the couples involved in this heinous cabal. It was important the two of them be aware of everything the real Max Ferren would know. These people didn't like surprises, and they'd be on the alert for anything the least off kilter.

When they broke for lunch Si doled out the room assignments, except for Max who already had his. Regan grabbed her suitcase from the front hall and was about to head up the stairs when a warm, rough, masculine hand closed over hers.

"I've got it." The voice had the same rough edge to it.

Strong fingers gripped the handle of her suitcase, and the faint scent of aftershave with a hint of the outdoors in it tickled her nose.

"I Oh! Okay. Thanks."

A muscular arm pressed against hers, the warmth of it penetrating her skin. Max DiSalvo was so close she could count the whiskers in his three-day stubble beard, a style that accented his rugged jaw and lean face and matched his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. A faint tingle raced through her, almost unfamiliar it had been so long since she'd felt it.

She slid a sideways glance at him as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She guessed his height at six feet, and his lean, muscular body spoke of his years as a SEAL and the physical work he did since his retirement from the service. Si had certainly picked a good-looking husband for her. She just had to remember that this was all strictly business, and serious business at that. And that he'd been chosen as much for his particular skills as for his uncanny resemblance to Max Ferren. She wondered which of them he'd be called upon to use.

She thought about the days ahead of them. This was her first live mission, so to speak. A lot of years had passed since her husband was killed on a special mission and she'd chosen to fight on in his memory using the skills she had. When she'd detected the first threads of this heinous plot, she'd been sick to her stomach. The more she discovered, the worse it got. An elite group of obnoxiously wealthy people looking to take over the United States and run it like many Middle Eastern countries under the thumb of the worst terrorists they smuggled into this country.

When Si had asked her to take an active role, she'd been unsure at first if she could carry it off. It wasn't, after all, what she usually did. But then the idea of personally helping to take these people down washed away any reservations she had. Now her only worry was how she was going to carry off the role of Max's wife. She had seen his photo, of course, when Si showed her pictures of both men. The similarities were uncanny. What she hadn't been prepared for, however, was the sexual magnetism of Max DiSalvo in person. Walking beside him now, she mentally fanned her face.

Get it together, Regan. This is a job and a damned important one. You're not a hormone-heavy girl anymore.

Unfortunately her hormones that had been in the deep freeze had decided to wake up on their own and start doing a dance, and at the most inappropriate time. This wasn't who she was at all. She was here on serious business, thrilled to be chosen for this role, so she'd better get her act together. Their deadline was closer than they'd expected.

"I got my room assignment yesterday when I arrived," Max told her, waving her not a large bedroom. "Si said he was putting us next door to each other." He chuckled. "So we could start getting to know each other. A teasing little joke on his part."

Regan looked around. "Wow!"

The bedroom was bigger than the living room in her apartment, and the bed was big enough for a slumber party. Everything was done in soft shades of blue and gold that eased her nervous edge at once. A partially open door led to an en suite bath.

He grinned. "Si wasn't kidding when he said the people who owned this had a bunch of money."

"I know," she agreed. "We could probably hold a dance in the living room. I don't usually come into contact with people in this environment."

Max quirked an eyebrow at her. "You don't go to D.C. parties? Or handle missions like this at all?"

She shook her head and gave a short laugh. "No, I'm not on the A list for D.C. social activities. And my work has basically been confined to computers and other electronic equipment, and analyzing the results of what I find. I spend a lot of time hanging out with computer nerds and translators, deciphering stuff."

"And you like that?" He shook his head. "Stupid question. You must, or you wouldn't do it."

"The answer is yes. It probably sounds boring to an action man like you, but I love taking all the different bits and pieces of things and making them part of a whole. I helped find the information for the mission that took down those bastards who murdered Dylan." Her smile had little humor in it. "After that it was a way to get past his death. Then it just became a way of life. Every tiny bit of information I discovered was a small victory for me."

Max nodded. "Dylan was a lucky man."

"I was the lucky one." She shrugged. "But you aren't here to discuss me."

Max shook his head. "On the contrary. With a possible target date of July 4th, every minute and every bit of information that frames our mission is critical. If we're going to be husband and wife, the more we know about each other, the easier it will be to pull it off. In fact, I believe Si has time blocked out after everything else for us to learn everything we can about each other."

"Everything?" Okay, she sounded like an idiot.

Max studied her face for a long moment, something mysterious in his eyes. Then he grinned. "Everything we care to share. How's that? Meanwhile, I'm in the next room. Let me get myself out of here so you can unpack and we can get down to lunch."

Regan watched him walk from the room and couldn't keep from admiring his lean muscular build. The way the slacks fit his long legs and his tight butt. There was something so powerful, so magnetic about him, and she wondered if he knew he exuded sex appeal. Si had not told her anything about his personal life except he was single and ran a commercial fishing company. Why wasn't he married. Had he ever been? Had his wife been one of those who loved the status of being married to a man in the military but hated dealing with the realities? Regan had sure seen plenty of them.

It took a long time after Dylan's death before she even dipped her toe into the dating waters. Mostly her experiences had been…nice. A bland word that perfectly described the situation. But there was something about Max DiSalvo that made her hormones do a little tap dance. Would the temptation he presented be too great for her? Or maybe she was the only one having inappropriate thoughts. They were here to carry out an urgent mission. She was sure he had nothing else but that on his mind.

Get your brain together, Regan. You're here on a matter of national security.

That was primary. She had twenty-plus years of discipline to call on, and she wasn't about to let Si down because she'd suddenly turned into a horny teenager. Still…

Swallowing a sigh, she went about the business of unpacking her clothes and taking a few moments to freshen up in the bathroom. It was going to be a long afternoon.

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Jane Murr
Great sexual tension
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