Cathryn Parry - The Undercover Affair

To choose between justice and love

There’s a burglar on the loose in the beach town of Wallis Point, and undercover detective Lyndsay Fairfax is pursuing every lead. Even the one that takes her straight to the brother of handsome marine veteran John Reilly. John, whose lively restaurant is the heart of the town, is the first person Lyndsay has connected with since her husband’s death. But she can’t tell him who she really is, and she can’t let his brother slide if he’s the culprit. Lyndsay has to figure out how to do the right thing without also losing the man who is so right for her...

“It would’ve been nice to jet you off to someplace warm.”

“I like that no one can see us,” Lyndsay murmured. “We’re in our own world out here, alone.”

“I can’t imagine not living near the ocean,” John replied.

She drew in a breath. “There it is!”

A tiny, faint ray of light appeared on the eastern horizon. And while she held her breath, it grew larger and larger. She could see John clearly in the early-morning light. He had a wide smile on his face.

“Is it always this calm?” she whispered.

“Never.” His voice was low. “This is my first time, at least.”

She turned her chin and caught his gaze directly. For a moment they shared a look, and then with a low groan, he leaned into her.

“I can’t fight it anymore...”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to a new Wallis Point, New Hampshire, story, set in the fictional seaside town first described in The Long Way Home and The Secret Between Them.

Lyndsay Fairfax is an undercover police officer sent to investigate a series of high-end thefts. Posing as an interior designer working in a congressman’s beach home, she befriends a group of tradesmen and becomes part of their community in hopes of tracking information about the notorious burglary ring.

But along the way, Lyndsay falls in love with John Reilly, a returning marine veteran and protective leader who’s taken responsibility for his family’s restaurant and the welfare of his troubled younger brother.

Lyndsay must keep her cover and follow the evidence wherever it leads her, even if it points to a suspect that will surely bring her personal heartbreak.

Thanks for reading Lyndsay’s story! I hope you enjoy the romance.

All the best,

Cathryn Parry

The Undercover Affair

Cathryn Parry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CATHRYN PARRY is the author of nine Harlequin Superromances. Her books have received such honors as the Booksellers’ Best Award, the Cataromance Reviewers’ Choice Award and several Readers’ Choice Award nominations. She lives in Massachusetts with her husband and their seventeen-year-old cat, Otis. Please see her website at www.cathrynparry.comfor information about upcoming releases or to sign up for her reader newsletter.

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For my dad, James Parry.

Thanks for always being there for us.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“OH-OH-SIX, M-S-T. A white box truck. That’s the tag and vehicle description for the crew of movers. They gave their names as—”

A shadow fell across the decoy catalog where Lyndsay Fairfax had scribbled her morning’s surveillance notes. Instinctively, she covered the jottings as she lifted her head.

Outside her car window, a man’s gaze met hers—the bartender from the Seaside Bar and Grill, whose parking lot she was currently sitting in. Her “police brain” automatically noted the details: six feet tall, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He had brown hair with piercing gray-blue eyes.

She hadn’t expected anyone to sneak up on her like that. There was no exit on this side of the parking lot, which meant he must have come from the house behind the restaurant.

He stared, his attention lingering on her face. She’d noticed him during the past week while she ate lunch at the Seaside with the group of home contractors from the wealthy cul-de-sac she’d infiltrated. But he wasn’t the object of her investigation in Wallis Point, New Hampshire, and so she’d never endeavored to meet him. Her police task force hadn’t mentioned investigating him or the Seaside Bar and Grill.

With her phone still pressed to her ear, Lyndsay gave him the sweet, friendly “Lyn Francis” smile that her undercover alter ego had been using all week while she passed as an interior designer for Mrs. Kitty MacLaine and her congressman husband.

Unlike the contractors in the small community that she’d been monitoring, this man didn’t smile back at her. And something in his wary eyes made her pause.

His frown deepened as he moved past her vehicle.

Chewing her lip, she watched him, following his progress down the restaurant’s small, gravel parking lot to a commercial van labeled Seacoast Beer Distributors idling in the far spot. The bartender stood outside the passenger door, hand on his hip, as he rapped on the window, then initiated what appeared to be a not-so-friendly conversation with a younger man, also on his mobile phone.

She blew out a breath. Of course—the bartender was preoccupied with the state of his establishment’s beer lines.

“Lyn, are you there?” her partner’s gravelly voice asked over the phone.

“I’m here,” she said, relaxing into her seat again.

“What’s going on?”

“A local passed by the car. He’s gone now.”

“Be careful. The most important thing is to keep your cover.”

“Don’t I know it.” Pete, her partner during the past week, was a grizzled old-timer with years of experience under his belt, and though she was an experienced state police officer as well, this was her first time undercover. Pete seemed protective of her for it, and she didn’t mind. She got to do the interesting work, gathering and relaying the information to him, while he sat on the other side of her phone calls.

She craved the work. She needed the work.

“Okay,” she said, “moving on, the two guys who go with the white box truck are the McAuliffe brothers, James and Brian. James goes by Jimmie. Both are about five-ten. Midtwenties. Live locally. The truck has no identifying company name or logo, and I’m given to understand that they’re freelancers who work for themselves by word of mouth.”

“Got it.” Pete’s voice was a murmur, as if he was concentrating because he was typing the information.

“That’s all for today. I hope this is helping the burglary investigation,” she said wistfully, keeping her eye on the bartender, his back still to her. She was leaving this afternoon. She was going to miss the assignment, as well as her lunches at the Seaside with the contractor teams.