License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel) (26 page)

He leaned forward across the bed toward her. “Seriously. Lani, darling, you were so cute hypnotizing me that I went along with it.”

He paused. “It was flattering in its way. I’d never had a girl so hot and desperate for me she resorted to hypnosis to get her way. Thrown panties at me, yes. Offered to be sawn in half or volunteered to be my able-bodied assistant, absolutely. But hypnosis? Now that was new and thrilling.”

He continued to hold her gaze. “You could have been a little more creative, though. Maybe made me your sex slave. I could have gone for that.”

“You flatter yourself, Rock.”

He ignored her comment. “You really can’t hypnotize someone into falling in love. You know that, right?”

She arched a brow.

He paused again, looking as if he was thinking about it for a minute. “Seduce them, possibly. Temporarily bend them into a crush, maybe. If they’re already susceptible to your charms. But that’s a big risk and a lot of work to go to when a little flirting would suffice.”

“Flirty doesn’t build loyalty,” Lani said. “Flirty doesn’t make the other person trust you enough to share secrets.”

“I see,” Rock said. “What secrets did you want from me?”

She ignored the question. “Why do you think you continued searching for me for two years?”

Rock took a deep breath, looked at her with a confident look of love, and shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Because I really
do
love you? Because I wanted to clear my name and get the police off my tail? Because I missed you and wanted closure?

“Lani,” he said softly. “I know love at first sight sounds stupid and sappy. But you caught my eye the moment you walked into the ice bar wearing that white faux fur coat and matching Russian hat. I knew right away you were the one for my act.
And
me.”

“All the girls were wearing white fur coats and hats. It was part of the admission package.”

Women wore white coats. Men wore black. Rock had looked particularly hot and handsome in his black faux fur coat, his eyes lined with eyeliner, a magic wand up his sleeve.

She’d gone to the bar ostensibly with friends for a girls’ evening out on the prowl—for Rock. In reality, the other three girls with her were also agents, backup in case something went wrong or the Agency intel about Rock’s taste in women proved inaccurate. And for cover. A lone girl in a bar was a bit too obvious.

The ice bar was like a modern rendering of the Snow Queen’s winter palace. Everything from top to bottom, from wall to wall, was created out of ice—the couches, the bar counter, the floor, even the glasses. Practically everything but the deliciously cold vodka-based cocktails.

On the April day she met Rock, the temperature soared to over a hundred degrees outside. She still remembered with fondness the luxurious feeling of stepping into freezing temperatures and snuggling into a fur coat, even if it was fake fur.

Cold blue light, neon, illuminated the décor, shone through ice sofas, and reflected off polished ice walls so pure they’d turned into mirrors. Elaborately carved ice sculptures adorned the room—winter-white swans, rabbits, deer, and bears.

“You knew I’d be there that night,” Rock said, bringing her focus back to the present. “All my best memories of us and they’re setups.” He shook his head, but he didn’t seem upset.

He looked almost amused and impressed by the deception. Deception was his trade, but—

“Yes, we knew. Of course we knew,” she said, trying to figure him out. “Which is why I did my Hispanic impersonation of a Russian agent. I was playing a Bond girl, for your eyes only. We know you love danger. You’re a thrill seeker. A Bond girl, a woman with a dangerous edge, has always been your ultimate fantasy.”

“Is it? You know me well. Well enough to understand—you’re my fantasy, Lani.” He paused again. “Now that I think back, the four of you were a redhead, a blonde, an Asian girl with hair as dark as black magic, and you. A buffet, was that it?”

She nodded. “Sometimes it’s best not to dwell on the past.”

“Still, all dressed alike, all beautiful women, and you were the one who caught my eye.” He sounded almost breathless.

“I was intended to. The rest were backup. They intentionally stayed in the background and showcased me. Think back, Rock. Picture it in your mind’s eye. Do you have the image? You see what we were doing. You see the performance for what it was.

“The way I caught your eye. Smiled at you. I was practically begging you to send me that drink. If you hadn’t, I’d have had to resort to something more obvious.” She, too, now spoke in dulcet tones.

“Would you? I would have liked to have seen that. If only I’d known.” He was so unflappable and good-humored.

“Still, it
was
impressive the way the drink appeared out of nowhere in a wisp of smoke in front of me. And then there you were, standing beside our table. Pulling an ice rose from up your sleeve was a nice touch, too. Too bad the rose didn’t last long out of the bar in the Vegas heat.

“I’m not generally sentimental. But the first flower you ever gave me and there was no way to press it or dry it for posterity.” She shrugged. “And here I like to keep souvenirs from my missions.”

“You have your wedding ring. That should be souvenir enough for a lifetime.” His gaze was intense, his tone soft. “I hope you brought it with you. People will expect you to wear it now that we’re happily reunited.”

Her wedding ring.
Crap.
“It’s in the safe in Tate’s hotel room.”

Rock made a fist, rubbed his fingers together, and opened his hand palm-up. Her wedding set glistened in the sunlight in his open palm. “Is it?”

She gasped. “That Tate—”

“He had nothing to do with this. I requisitioned it on my own. Saved him a trip. May I?” He took her left hand in his and gently slid the ring on, holding her gaze as he did.

The ring slipped onto her finger as if it belonged there. He squeezed her hand.

She’d never tell him, but she often wore her wedding ring between missions when she was alone and wanted to remember who she really was. Or simply needed to think of him and feel him near her. Never long enough or regular enough to build up a ring imprint on her finger or gain a real sense of permanency. Her covers demanded she be decidedly single. Not a woman who’d removed her rings to go looking for love.

The ring was a gorgeous set with a princess-cut diamond worth nearly a quarter-million dollars. Not the kind of thing a girl could easily pawn. And distinctive enough to give her away if she’d tried. Yet the money would have come in handy, especially with the expense of keeping Stone hidden. If not for the Agency footing the bill …

Not that she could ever part with Rock’s token of love.

She let Rock hold her hand in the intimate squeeze of his a moment too long. For her own good. She couldn’t let herself latch onto Rock again. She had to think of their son. If she got too close to Rock, she’d be tempted to tell him about Stone. And that would never do.

She slipped her hand from his and resisted the urge to hold her hand up and admire the ring resting in its rightful place on her finger.

“Hypnosis is done in steps, Rock. I was drawing you in from the beginning, mesmerizing you, manipulating things. Bending your mind to my will. Love at first sight? Really, I’m surprised a respected member of the magic community would ever believe in such things.” She may have been teasing him, but she was playful and trying to build his trust at the same time. She put a hint of flirt in her voice.

She waved her hand, admiring the sparkling ring on it. “Your love at first sight was smoke and mirrors. Nothing more than hormones and chemistry. Aided in your case by alcohol, ambience, your favorite perfume heavily laced with pheromones, and a carefully crafted persona of your fantasy girl.

“You loved how I looked. You loved how I made you feel because I flattered you and played up to you in a way I knew would impress you and turn you on. I’m very good with men.” She watched him closely. He didn’t flinch.

“You loved the fantasy. It was all pure animal attraction, not real love. That kind of thing doesn’t last a lifetime. It melts quickly, like the ice rose you gave me.

“What happens when I’m old and gray? Stooped and walk with a walker. When I gain fifty pounds?” She smiled slightly, knowingly, and yet she laced her voice with seduction. “You’re right, Rock. That was all an illusion.”

“I’ll give you that you looked like my fantasy girl. But it was
you
I fell in love with. Your soul, your personality, your essence.”

She shook her head. “Really? You mean you love the girl who coincidentally likes your favorite comedians, TV shows, and movies? Who has so many of the same interests?”

She leaned into him. “We know everything about you and how to manipulate you with that knowledge. I already told you that’s how I work. That’s my specialty. That’s part of what makes me a good spy.”

She expected him to get up and storm out. Or maybe disappear in a puff of flash powder. But he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand again, rubbing his thumb over her ring.

“Baby, I’m pretty good at reading people, too. And knowing what’s genuine and what’s an act. You have never given me enough credit for my mind-reading skills. Believe me when I tell you, I saw the real you. And that’s the woman I love.

“Imagine,” he said, “what our life could be like if you trusted me with your love. Think of the wonderful times we could have together. You and me, on stage together performing. Touring the world. Seeing places and people. Making love in all kinds of fabulous, romantic locations.” He leaned even closer, so close their noses practically touched and there was no looking away from his gaze.

“You trusted me once, enough to show me your magic. Remember how you tried to one-up me with little magic tricks the evening we met? Pushing a coin through an ice table, now that’s impressive and takes skill. And guts. Making your number appear on the bottom of my ice glass, that was awesome. Besides someone in the biz, no girl has ever impressed me with her magic like that.

“You have a real love for it. It takes practice to be as skilled as you are.”

He was right. She did love magic. The life he painted for them was seductive and enticing.

“My grandpa was a magician,” she said. “He taught me those tricks and a love for the art. Why do you think I was chosen for the assignment? Most of the girls could have come to Vegas and gone undercover as showgirls. I had skills that no one else had. Another example of how the Agency played you.”

“Apparently the Agency is a better matchmaker than any online dating service. They matched our points of compatibility completely and perfectly. My compliments to whoever was in charge of the mission. If funding’s ever low, you should suggest NCS make a little money on the side fixing lonely hearts.” He sounded almost genuine with just a small, almost undetectable undertone of hurt in his voice. And maybe a touch of wounded pride. As if he should have sensed a setup, but missed it.

“You fell in love with the real me, too.” He pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “You may as well admit it. It may have started as an assignment for you, but I turned you on the moment you met me.

“You didn’t think NCS was finding you your soul mate. They probably didn’t, either. They were so busy making sure you’d turn my head, they never considered what I’d do to you.

“They made a tactical mistake and forgot to think on all sides. So they completely overlooked the possibility that so closely matching an agent with a target could lead to a dangerous attraction.

“You should warn them to think about the impact on their agents, Lani. You really should. Otherwise, a breach of national security is inevitable.”

“It’s a good thing the chief isn’t listening to this little speech of yours,” Lani said. “He’d be furious.”

Although the chief did fancy himself something of a matchmaker. But never an inadvertent one.

“Good to know we’re not bugged here in the bedroom.” Rock was serious. “I see now why I couldn’t resist inviting you to try out for the show. Did you get rid of my other girl so there’d be an opening? Suzie had been with me for over five years.”

“You make it sound like we offed her.” Lani didn’t break eye contact with him. “Her pregnancy was convenient timing for us. But we would have found some way to get me into your show.”

He bent over and whispered in her ear. “You’re a girl after my own heart. You know, baby, how much successful illusion turns me on. There’s something seductive about it, even when I’m the victim.” He leaned back and looked at her tray. “You aren’t eating?”

“Our conversation’s been too diverting.”

He smiled slowly. “Cook will be insulted. Do you remember your first rehearsal with me?”

“How could I forget? You ordered me into that impossible little box so you could saw me in two. Two very unequal parts—my head and the rest of me.”

“Everyone these days knows how the illusion is done. That Masked Magician has given away all the basic tricks. I had to put my own new spin on it. Or try. You trusted me enough to give it a try. I’m still impressed when I think of the way you wedged yourself in like you were a master yogi.”

“You also made me wear an impossibly tiny outfit.”

“I never said I didn’t like how you looked. Or that your looks aren’t part of the attraction.”

She shook her head. “It was all a test, wasn’t it? I thought it was a joke. An impossible task. I only wanted to prove you wrong and show you what an arrogant ass you were. Get into that box or lose the gig—right. Still, I couldn’t blow the mission. What would I tell Emmett?

“Getting out, of course, was the real trick. And the joke was on both of us.” She still remembered the panic of being wedged in that small space, unable to get out. She’d never felt claustrophobic before, even though she’d been in some tight spots during her career.

The buzz of the saw coming at her didn’t even make her pulse rise. But at the end of the trick, when she was supposed to be put back together, she couldn’t get out of the box. First the latch stuck. And then she was wedged in so tightly she panicked and couldn’t get out.