Emotionally Compromised (Emotionally Compromised Series) (27 page)

"What is that?"

"New school." He grins. "Stick this on Marcus’s phone, and it will be able to scramble the current signal he has managed to encrypt, giving us the ability to tap into his cell line and record phone calls."

"What about personal e-mail?"

"Leave that to me. I want you to get Gibbs alone, and when you do manage to snatch his cell phone, I'll come up behind you, and snag it. That will give me the opportunity to put the bug on while you distract him. If I have time, I will get into his e-mail."

I nod, tensing at the idea of getting close to Marcus after hearing that it is his fault Jeremy almost got killed. How am I supposed to resist putting my gun to his head?

"Keep your head in the game, Turner,” Derek says, as if sensing my thoughts. “Don't get emotionally compromised on this. Follow the plan. Lure Gibbs and get me the phone. I will pass it back to you, and you will slip it back in his pocket. Easy peasy. Got it?"

"Got it."

Emotionally Compromised? Is that what I am? No, no, no. I won't let myself be. I am a professional, God dammit.

"And
, Turner? Don't forget to brief Hunt on your identity. They can't know your real last name. This needs to go over without a hitch. After tonight, the rest should be easy."

"This isn't my first rodeo, Derek."

"I know. This one is a bit different though."

"Hmm." I hum my agreement, and then something crosses my mind. "Do me a favor and keep your eyes sharper than usual. With Jeremy going on stage, I worry. There is going to be a lot of people."

"I will."

I glance at the balcony. Jeremy is staring at me. His eyes look lost and angry, but he is trying to smile
, the special one meant for me.

It's going to be
all right, Jeremy. I promise.

Debrief & Arrival

ALEX TURNER

I slip in the chauffeured limo behind Jeremy, who has not really said a word since the balcony.

In my earpiece, I can hear Derek's voice: "Turner, I'm arriving separately and will make contact when I arrive. Over and out."

I try to whisper, "Ten-four."

Jeremy peeks over at me. "What was that?"

I ignore
his question. "Jeremy, is everything all right?"

His mouth is set in a hard line, probably deciding
whether to tell the truth. He grabs my hand from the plush leather, brings it up to his lips, and kisses my knuckles sweetly before responding in a quiet monotone. "No, everything is not all right, but I will be fine."

The electric current that his lips elicit in me causes me to smile, but I am still worried.

"You look incredible, by the way, Miss Turner." He kisses my hand one last time before putting it down, but continues to rub my knuckles with his thumb. Despite being such slight contact, it makes my skin feel as if it is on fire.

His eyes glitter under the passing streetlamps, and I can see his adoring stare. I can't help it any longer. Releasing his hand, I scoot closer to him and kiss him possessively.

His shoulders tense at the surprise contact, but he tangles his fingers into my hair, anchoring my lips to him as he devours my mouth. His tongue tangles around mine, and I can hear a throaty groan before I pull away.

"Thank you. I needed that," he says, finally smiling.

I grin mischievously. "Always here to help, Mr. Hunt." I scoot only slightly away from him. His whole body is tense, but at least he is smiling. It's progress. "Jeremy, not to ruin the mood, but do you mind if I debrief you with details you need to know before we arrive?"

The smile vanishes, and he grabs for my hand again as if he is trying his damn
edest not to be angry, and this is him showing that it isn't at me. "Sure." His voice is soft and strained.

I chew my lip for a moment and then begin. "First, you cannot call me Alex Turner anymore. Not tonight. You must introduce me as Alex Raven
.
Got it?"

"Alex Raven? I don't like that."

I smirk and wrinkle my nose. "We are improvising. I slipped up originally. Normally, I wouldn't even have given my real first name. Raven is my code name out in the field. Raven is also the easiest name for my team and me to remember. Can you manage it?"

He nods, watching me as his free hand strokes his chin with his long deft fingers. What is he thinking? I try not to get distracted and take it as my cue to go on.

"And I know this may be hard for you, but you must do whatever I say tonight—without question. I will know what is best, and there might be a moment where I need you to do something to help. Can you manage that?"

He
appears to mull it over for a moment, and he seems to be holding back a smile. "I think so, but it will be tough."

I return with my own wry smile. "I'm sure it might be, but you have to try. Also"
—I take in a deep breath—"I am going to have to talk to Marcus. Try not to get too jealous."

This time his response is immediate. "
That
I cannot promise. I am a jealous man, and you're mine. I will deal with these emotions as they arise, but I cannot promise I will deal with them well." His eyes heat, melting the frost only slightly.

I set my lips in a hard line. "
OK, well, try to keep yourself in line. I know this event was originally planned for fun, but now it is strictly business."

His jaw clenches, and he turns to look out his window. Not satisfied that he understands, I tug on the sleeve of his tuxedo. He turns toward me, nodding as if to ask
,
what?

"My goal is also to be a good date, Jeremy."

I'm so worried about his mood that when he leans in to kiss me, I gasp in surprise, but allow his lips to mold over mine. When he pulls away, we stare into each other's eyes, getting lost for a moment.

The car slows, and I realize we must already be there. I smile and place
a final chaste kiss on his lips. "One more thing, babe."

His lips twitch at the endearment. "What's that?"

I pull out one of the tracking devices Derek gave me. "This is a distress call device. Press the center and someone will be there in ten to fifteen minutes."

He takes it and places it into his inner jacket pocket without even giving it a once-over, as if the thing might bite. "Is that entirely necessary?"

I shrug. "Doesn't matter if it's necessary. It's a just-in-case measure. Considering what happened yesterday, I want to do everything in my power to keep you safe. So don't leave my sight either." Catching him off guard, I
boop
him on the tip of his nose with my finger. Luckily, he grins! I think—more like I hope—the night is saved.

The limo comes to a stop, and the moment has come.
Pay or play, Agent Turner.

I take a deep breath and stare out the window. Lots of people and flashing cameras. Oh
God, I forgot about the public and the glitzy-ness involved. Jeremy Hunt is considered an A-lister at an event like this—and who am I?

You are a federal agent ready to kick some ass, that's who!

I snicker at my ever-ready subconscious. She's right, I am.

Jeremy takes my hand, now managing a smile as he kisses my fingertips, his eyes locked on me. "Are you ready?"

He knows I'm nervous, and it only reminds me of how utterly perfect he is. Bad temper, controlling, and jealousy aside. It's those imperfections I like the most.

I smile. "I'm ready."

On cue, the door to the limo opens, and the roar of the crowd and flashing cameras replace the silence.
Yikes. Deep breaths.

I can
tell Jeremy doesn't want to let go of me as I climb out. He always seems to be touching me. Whether it's his hand at the small of my back or intertwined around mine, he doesn't want to leave my side, and I am thankful. The feeling is mutual.

T
he gun strapped to my leg reassures me as I stretch my smile for the waiting cameras and eager faces.

I can hear Derek in my ear: "Nice pep talk
, Turner. Now you got this."

I nod at my best friend, who seems to be hidden in the crowd.

He's right. I've got this.

Earning Trust

ALEX TURNER

I let my eyes scan the event for any familiar or dangerous faces, but find none. It's not
as if I wasn't used to that, but I wanted something to focus on. I wonder where Derek has gone.
Always the chameleon.

We have almost entered the building of Boston's Museum of Fine Arts
, and the bash really is a remarkable sight. There are groups of people filing inside, snapping photos from the lavish entry while following a rich forest-green carpet. Cameras continue to flash, and there is a loud hum from the crowd. The buzz gives the whole event a wonderful, electric ambiance.

Jeremy's hand wraps around my waist as he leads me
toward the entrance. The contact makes me smile, and when I turn to look up at him, he is staring at me.

"I think I might have the prettiest date here
." He grins. I am glad he seems to have salvaged his mood.

I roll my eyes, smirking as I take a gander at all the other pretty women dressed in the most beautiful gowns. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Hunt."

He grins and looks away at an oncoming reporter. "I beg to differ, Miss
Raven
." His face contorts at the mention of my alias.

I hold back my smile as a pudgy man with matted, greased-down hair stumbles toward us
, holding a large camera with an even larger flash.

"Mr. Hunt! Mr. Hunt! Do you have a moment?"

I look in the distance. The entrance is only fifteen feet away. I would rather leave Jeremy to this, but as I try to walk out of his grasp, he tugs me closer. I groan. I want to scurry away.

When I look up at
him, he is grinning sardonically. "Oh no, you don't," he whispers. He turns to face the reporter. "Sure, just a moment though."

The man slicks back his hair with his free hand
, and smiles as if he has won the lottery. "Mr. Hunt, are you going to be speaking tonight?"

Jeremy's eyes dart to mine
in a mocking manner, and then quickly back to the reporter. "Yes, I will be. As is usual for this event, I have the honor of being a spokesperson and support the cause, not only for Giving Hope, as a charity, but also for the local artists displayed here tonight. I am hoping to purchase some at the silent auction to help support the arts and the cause itself." His answer is cool, confident, and almost calculated. It's impressive, but then again, this is what he does.

"Thank you, Mr. Hunt, we look forward to your speech. May I take your picture with your date?" The man's eyes lock with mine. I smile weakly, wishing he didn't include me. I don't need my face showing up in a newspaper or magazine.

Jeremy tugs me close, wiggling his fingers at my waist, making me laugh. "Jer-Jeremy, stop it!” I spit out while the man looks on in amusement. “All right, all right, just one picture!"

Surprising
the cameraman and me, Jeremy leans in and places a kiss against my forehead. That's when I notice people are staring at us. Relaxing my shoulders, I submit to the photo.

"Ma'am, your name?"

I smile, my face flushes, thinking,
is that photo really going to be everywhere for people to see?
"Alexandra Raven."

The man nods and moves on his merry way. I let out a long breath
, and try to lead Jeremy inside, away from the cameras.

He tugs at my waist. "Alexandra, huh?"

"Don't even think about calling me that. It seemed more appropriate for a publication." I squint, questioning my justification, but hold my ground. He nods, not looking for an argument, but I feel like he might be taking notes for later.

When we finally
enter the museum, Jeremy is quick to identify a few people, but his huff is what catches my attention.

"What is it, Jeremy?"

"That Russian bastard, Richard Dyvornychenko, is here."

"Huh?" I look to where he's staring and notice a tall, lanky man greeting other men around a flashy contemporary art sculpture
.

"I've been trying to convince him to sign with us. He has some patents we need for our solar energy branch, and the deal will benefit the both of us, but he won't sign. I get the sinking feeling it
is personal, but I can't tell why. He's a stubborn fuck."

"Jeremy!"
His foul language catches me off guard, but it's obvious the situation has him frustrated. "Well, maybe you need to get at his level. Sometimes your charm isn't good enough."

Jeremy is quick to respond. "Worked on you
." He has the audacity to wink. I wrinkle my nose, because it's embarrassingly true
.

With that, Jeremy
makes his rounds, and I end up more distracted than I would have liked. I meet everyone, from simple, rich, old white folk, who donate lots of money, to doctors, politicians, actors, and of course a few of the local artists represented at the event. Though I have done this countless times, the fact it feels more personal makes the experience a little overwhelming.

I find myself exhausted with all the socializing
after twenty minutes. I have never been one to mingle or be good at chitchat, but I do it for Jeremy. He seems eager to introduce me to everyone he greets, and it makes me surprisingly happy. The glint in his eyes makes me feel like he really is proud to show me off. I am not used to it.

Even Rosalie Jenkins, wife of a state senator, comments to Jeremy that she thought I was a “
beautiful match for an equally beautiful man.”

May I also mention, despite being in her sixties
, she has no shame about batting the eyelashes of her Botoxed face at Jeremy, but he takes it in stride and smiles back, completely agreeing with her compliment.

"I do hope you settle down some day, Jeremy. Your dad would like to see that too, my boy." Senator Jenkins takes a sip out of his champagne flute, his arm linked with his wife's, eyeing Jeremy. But he seems to be
amused.
How cute.

Jeremy chuckles. "Senator Jenkins, not this
again. Have you and my dad been plotting again?"

The senator erupts with a throaty laugh, and Jeremy's face flushes. Both men look at me at the same time. All I can do is blush and smile sweetly. What am I
supposed to say? Jeremy's hand grabs mine, and he tangles our fingers around each other, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I should be doing a round of scouting the perimeter, and in my ear, as if on cue, I hear Derek. "I don't think I have
ever seen you so red, Turner."

Jeremy continues talking with the senator and his wife about who they will be supporting in the upcoming elections, giving me the opportunity to let my eyes dart around the room
to look for Derek. It's not as if I can respond.

Sure enough, over the senator's shoulder
, I see Derek nonchalantly leaning against a pillar with a champagne flute in hand, staring directly at me with that charming, shit-eating grin.

I
grin too, but mask it immediately, realizing I am still with Jeremy, who is wrapping up his conversation.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Senator, and your lovely wife." They smile at my manners and meander away.

Jeremy turns to me, eyes warm and sincere. "You really are the perfect date. Everyone loves you."

"Glad to hear I am up to par, Mr. Hunt. I didn't realize how much attention you get." I take in a deep breath, feeling the weight of other
’s eyes.

He looks around, holding back a
secret smile. "I don't think it's me they are staring at, Miss Tu— Raven."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Why would anyone want to look at me? I let my vision drag across the room, and sure enough, I notice their eyes are on me, not Jeremy.

The extra pressure makes me feel foolish. Jeremy brings his long fingers up to my face, stroking my flushed cheek, and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

I peer up at him th
rough my eyelashes. "But why?"

His eyes frost for a brief moment, and he says, "Well, from reading my file, shouldn't you know I never take dates to these things?"

My mouth goes dry at the thought. There were many girls mentioned for nights out of partying, but an actual date? Never seemed his style
.
Then it hits me. How did he know about his file?

His smile reflects his cold stare, and for
once, I cannot tell if he is angry. It's almost eerie, but somewhat sexy too.

Derek must have mentioned something. I wonder what else
he said. I want to question Jeremy more about it, but he cuts me off. "I am going to kiss you now." It's as if he can predict my every move.
How terrifying.

The kiss is far shorter than I would have liked, but his quick, possessive capture of my lips still makes me reel.

For a brief moment, it feels like we are in our own personal bubble, even as we pull apart. We haven't been out in public much as a couple. This could take some getting used to. My eyes bore into his. His eyes remind me of a clear, crisp morning after a night of snow, and I get the chills.

I hear a whiny/annoyed remark from Derek through my earpiece. "Please,"
he says, as if watching the interaction from afar makes him want to gag.

At the same time, a pretty blonde in high stilettos approaches us.

"Uh-oh," I hear Derek utter.

I make eye contact with a serious electric blue stare
, and it isn't Jeremy's.

"Jeremy!"
the mystery woman exclaims in an annoying chirp. It's like nails on a chalkboard, and I have to hold back my cringe.

Try not to act like a jealous adolescent, Agent Turner.

Oh, there you are, subconscious; I thought that maybe you took the night off.

Nope,
she replies.

I cannot
manage a smile for this woman as I take her in. Her shoulder-length hair looks silky smooth, and it complements a fitted green dress that reveals most of her back. She is pretty, and I feel inadequate standing there as she eyes my boyfriend. Combined, they have picture-perfect good looks, as if they just stepped out of a Hallmark ad or a terrible jewelry commercial. Her classical features, when next to Jeremy's angular good looks, have me feeling like less than I am. What the fuck? I am so not used to this.

I examine her pink pout, rosy cheeks, and golden tan. That is when I finally take a moment to look at Jeremy
; he is grinning. I hope that's just his manners.
Why do I feel sick all of a sudden?

"Victoria, you look ravishing, as ever."
Ravishing?
Has he forgotten I am standing right here? I am an idiot for not anticipating this sort of interaction. He's right. I've read his file.

I watch her greedy blue eyes devour Jeremy, and I want nothing more than to dislocate her pretty little
shoulder.
Let's not cause a scene.

Derek is quick to respond to my apparently predictable thought process. "Turner, you are
a hundred times prettier than her. You're a babe, and she is chopped liver. Trust me on this one."

My lips twitch at hearing his remark. Sometimes, I love him.

The blonde shamelessly ignores my presence as she embraces Jeremy in a hug. My blood boils, and I still cannot convince myself to smile. Especially at this moment.

"Turner, you want me to whisk you away?"

How am I supposed to answer Derek? I try not to move my lips. "Not now," I say through clenched teeth.

The muffled words catch Jeremy's attention.
Oh, now you notice me?

"Victoria, I'd like you to meet someone." My gut clenches as I predict what he'll say next. I realize through my jealousy that I don't even want to give this girl the time of day. Introduction or not. He continues, "
This is my girlfriend, Alex."

She looks me up and down
as if I'm a bruised piece of fruit. I want to punch her.
Deep breaths.

"Nice to meet you
, Alex. I'm Victoria Ferris."
She extends her perfectly manicured hand toward me, and I notice Jeremy eyeing us as if the claws might emerge at any moment. And he is right to be wary.

I purse my lips, trying to manage that impossible smile.

I shake her hand reluctantly. "Pleasure is all mine," I purr, but I cannot help my errant tone.

"So, how long have you two been dating?" Her tone
peaks, as if her curiosity is driven by jealousy.
Good.
She goes back to ignoring my existence as her eyes lock with my boyfriend's once again.
Really, bitch?

Jeremy gets mildly bashful, scratching the back of his head as if
searching for the right words, but his demeanor remains cool and collected. I can tell he is uneasy. But why?