Addison Fox - Secret Agent Boyfriend

“Yes?”

“I’m Derek Winchester. I’d like a moment with you.”

“It’s awfully early for a moment, don’t you think?” She kept her gaze cool but allowed it to roam over his body. Was this the man her brother Carson had spoken to her about?

He certainly fit the bill with that long, rangy form so tall and straight he appeared to stand at attention.

Tight.

Contained.

Controlled.

Reluctantly fascinated, she continued her assessment, cataloging his features as she looked her fill. His skin was a rich bronze, set off by short black hair and deep, piercing eyes nearly as dark as his hair.

He was attractive in a wholly masculine way. There was nothing pretty about him; rather, he exuded a mix of confidence and stoicism that drew the eye.

“It’s early for a swim that could fell an Olympian, too. That doesn’t make my business any less urgent.”

Business?

Although the urge to bait him was strong, she reached for her pool wrap and slipped underneath the thin black material. Showing off her body to gain an advantage was one thing. Sitting there half naked during a business transaction was tantamount to stupid.

And she wasn’t stupid.

“Please have a seat.” Landry gestured to the long glass-topped table that dominated a section of the patio. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

She busied herself with drying her hair and took a few more moments to assess her adversary. He crossed to the long table the kitchen staff set up each morning, filled with coffee service, an assortment of pastries and fresh fruit. When he returned with nothing more than a cup of black coffee, she was curious.

Was he nervous?

In her experience—and she had plenty with the size of her family—men ate breakfast.

She crossed to the buffet to fix her coffee, then her usual plate of fruit. The kitchen’s world-famous blueberry muffins beckoned, but she suppressed the urge to take one and added a few extra pieces of melon.

“So, Mr. Winchester. What can be so urgent you needed to interrupt my morning?”

Her brother’s earnest request that she play along echoed through her thoughts but she tamped it down. If Derek Winchester was the man they thought, then he should be able to handle anything she threw at him, too.

“I thought it made sense to get started.”

Started?

And why did that word sound like a promise?

A shudder of awareness prickled her spine that had nothing to do with the light breeze that coated her skin. She turned away from the buffet and kept her voice light. Unaffected. “Started for what?”

“Effective immediately, I’m your new boyfriend.”

* * *

Derek sat back and waited for the fireworks as a series of reactions flashed across Landry Adair’s expressive face. For the first time since receiving this asinine mission from his old boss and trusted friend, Kate Adair, he actually had a moment to enjoy himself.

So the resident princess did have a bit of heat underneath that cool demeanor.

The thought surprised him as it took root and he turned the words over in his mind. Why should he care if Landry Adair ran hot or cold? She was a job, nothing more.

Even if he hadn’t felt any heat—for anything—in far too long.

Nor had he found himself captivated by the long arch of a woman’s neck, where it tapered down to meet her shoulder in a delicious dip just made for his mouth, in an equally long time.

Shaking off the lush images of running his lips over her skin, he shifted his attention to the valley that spread out as far as the eye could see.

Adair Acres.

Or simply “the ranch,” as he’d already heard it called more than once.

A shockingly gorgeous stretch of land that spoke of money and promise, hard work and fierce ambition. His gaze drifted over the lush vista, the light scent of citrus wafting from the rolling hills full of grove after grove. Oranges and avocado, grapefruit and lemons.

It was a far cry from the street gangs of LA or the more refined—yet no less devious—minds of Washington, DC.

Which only reinforced the question he’d been asking himself since fielding a phone call from Kate Durant Adair O’Hara, former vice president and current whirling dervish.

What had she gotten him into?

While he respected the heck out of the former vice president—and he appreciated her belief in his abilities more than he could ever put to words—he still didn’t fully see how he could help her.

But no amount of skepticism had put Kate off her plan.

“What are you playing at, Mr. Winchester?”

Landry had stilled at his rash comment, and while he’d expected the hostility, he hadn’t expected the cool, assessing look in her vivid blue eyes.

Or the sudden realization that fake or not, no one would ever buy Landry Adair hanging off his arm.

“Your aunt Kate wants me to look out for you.”

“And what makes her so sure I need looking after?”

Whatever momentary gain he had with his opening salvo faded as she collected herself, wrapped in an aura of predatory cool.

Damn, but the woman was a looker. Tall—he’d put her around five foot ten to his six one—which gave him the unusual opportunity to practically look her in the eye without craning his neck. Her body was long and lean, lethal in its perfection.

He contrasted that perfect form with memories of Sarah’s petite frame. They’d never quite fit, and he’d always felt like a giant standing next to her. He’d never have hurt her, of course, but he could never quite shake the feeling that he lumbered next to her small, pixie-like build.

Shaking off memories of his ex-fiancée—memories that belonged in the locked box where he’d shoved them six months ago—he refocused on the here and now.

And the very real fact that he needed to convince Landry Adair that it was in her best interest not only to cooperate with him, but to work with him, too.

She brushed past him with her plate of food and took a seat at the large patio table. The morning sun beat down on her still-wet hair and he guessed at the shade he’d seen only in photographs. Dark layers, mixed with a refined blond.

The fresh scents of citrus from the groves below enveloped him while something more potent mingled underneath. Lush and erotic with the lightest touch of honeysuckle.

Landry.

Heat still sparked under his skin where she’d brushed his arm, and he lifted his coffee mug for a sip, taking a moment to right himself.

Focus on the job.

It should have been easy, Derek knew. He’d been the job for so long he didn’t even remember how to be anything else.

“Surely you’re not immune to what’s happened here. Your father’s killer is still on the loose.”

Pain flashed in her eyes, electrifying those blue depths, before she laid down her fork. “You think to come into my home and scare me?”

“I’m here to protect you.”

She reached for a pair of sunglasses lying on the middle of the table and twirled the frame as she kept her gaze steady on his. “I’m a big girl, Mr. Winchester. I haven’t needed protecting for a long time.”

A wholly inappropriate thought sliced through his midsection at her words. She was all grown-up, with a woman’s curves and a woman’s beauty. Although she’d put on a wrap, the swells of her breasts were visible through the dark V-neck, a greater temptation than when she’d worn only her swimsuit.

Steeling himself against the temptation, Derek focused on why he was here. Whatever arguments she attempted to push his way, he’d deflect.

For Kate.

And for the very real chance to earn back a bit of the self-respect he’d lost over the past six months. He needed this job. And he needed some damn sense of purpose again.