Julie Kenner - Undercover Lovers

“So what does this have to do with me?” Carter asked.

“The FBI’s been asked to participate in a task force. We’re working with the sheriff’s department in Santa Barbara County along with the local police department. The task force is sending in a team to investigate the resort,” Kincaid said. “Like I said, it might be coincidence, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence myself.”

“And I’m on the task force.”

“Not only are you on the task force, agent, you’re heading it up and leading the undercover team. Unless you have something else planned.”

Carter swallowed a grimace. Hell, yes, he had something else planned. A nice desk job in one of the FBI’s many bureaus. Maybe even back home in Texas. The last thing he wanted was to jump from one undercover job to another. He wanted out of that grind, and if Kincaid wasn’t willing to cut him loose, then maybe it really was time to turn in his resignation.

“Sinclair?”

Carter sat up. “Sir, I’m afraid this isn’t an assignment I can accept. I’m not interested in—”

“Working undercover. I know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, maybe I can persuade you.”

“No, sir. I’m not—”

“If you do a good job, I can guarantee you a new assignment. A field office, if that’s what you want. Your pick of location.” He spread his hands wide. “Carte blanche. But only if…” He trailed off.

“I know, I know.”

“Well? Think you can handle one more undercover job? After all, it’s not like you’ll be up to your elbows in crack addicts. Considering your background, this will be more like a vacation.”

Carter wasn’t sure about that, but he knew enough to recognize when he was beat. He might not want to go undercover again, but if he aced this assignment, at least it would be the last time. Resigned, he exhaled. “Who’s on my team?”

“You and the author of the report. You’re both scheduled to fly into Burbank, pick up a rental car and your papers from the local field office and then drive up the coast to the resort.”

“That’s it? One person? I thought you said a team, not a partner.”

Kincaid leaned back again, his chair squeaking. “Like you said, it’s a sex camp. You’ll have task force support on the outside, but you and a female agent will go in alone. You and Agent Lowell will—”

“Lowell?” Carter leaned forward. Surely, he’d heard wrong. “Not Tori Lowell?”

Kincaid gave him that above-the-rim glance. “You know her?”

A complicated question. For Carter, Tori Lowell had always meant trouble—of both the good and bad kind. Carter decided to brush it off. “We went to the academy together.”

“Then you may or may not realize that she’s been desk jockeying since Quantico. And damn good at it, too. But she’s also been itching for an undercover assignment, and since she discovered this link, we’ve decided to grant her request.” Again, he aimed that assessing glance over his glasses. “If you know Lowell, then I’m sure you know her reputation.”

“Yes, sir,” Carter mumbled.

“Good. Because I’m trusting you to keep her in line. The woman’s a good agent, but she’s a loose cannon, and since this is her first time undercover, I don’t want her playing Rambo.”

Irritation welled in Carter’s gut. “So I’m babysitting?”

Kincaid shook his head. “No. You’re just leading your team. You do your job well, and we’ll have no problem pushing through your request for reassignment.”

Carter’s hands tightened on the armrests. Kincaid could call it what he wanted, but it sounded damn close to baby-sitting to him. Either that, or blackmail. Keep the overeager agent in line and get a new assignment; fail and get sent back to undercover hell.

Not exactly his dream job.

Kincaid leaned back, looking Carter straight in the eye. “I trust this isn’t a problem?”

For half a second, Carter considered telling Kincaid to find another sucker. Then common sense caught up to him. “No, sir.” This assignment was his ticket out of his current placement, and for that, he’d put up with a lot. Even Tori Lowell.

It was only when he’d stepped out of Kincaid’s office, the full brief clasped in his hand, that he realized the extent of what he’d agreed to—he and Tori posing as husband and wife at a sex camp. A sex camp.

Sighing, he headed down the hall toward the elevator. He needed to get out of the building before he did something stupid like walk into Kincaid’s office, throw the file on his desk and tell him to find some other agent to lead the team.

But no, there were a hundred reasons for him to take this assignment, and only one reason to walk away.

And surely that reason had changed over the last three years. Despite what Kincaid said, she couldn’t still be the same ultra-competitive, smart-mouthed, sexy-as-hell woman he’d sparred with at Quantico, could she?

As a man, Carter had been attracted to her from the first day they were assigned to the same class. Tori was brilliant and ambitious, and her academy achievements had pushed Carter. He owed his success at the academy to their pervasive competition.

But while she might have all the makings of a smart and intuitive agent, she’d also been a wild card, and if Kincaid was right, she still was. The daughter of a highly celebrated undercover agent, Tori had made no secret of the fact that she intended to follow in her father’s footsteps and that she’d do anything to get there.

Dating while at Quantico was discouraged by the powers that be, but not forbidden, and Carter had been entranced enough to go against protocol. Almost daily, Carter had asked Tori out for coffee or to grab a pizza and some beer at the Boardroom, the bar located above the cafeteria at Quantico. She’d repeatedly turned him down cold. Repeatedly, that is, until the week before graduation. When he’d asked her then, she’d accepted.

Carter blew out a breath, his body tightening as he remembered the way she’d looked that night. She’d worn a black dress and, though he’d seen her in jogging shorts, there was just something about a woman in stockings and heels. He’d taken her into Alexandria for dancing, and they’d worked up quite a sweat, each trying to go a little bit longer, a little bit harder, than the other. They’d cooled off afterward with vodka tonics. Not that Carter had really cooled off. Just the opposite, in fact. Simply being near Tori seemed to ignite his blood to near boiling.

Apparently Tori had heated up a bit, too. Because by the time they reached the dorms, neither one could keep their hands off the other. God, he’d been desperate for her, and he’d pinned her in the circle of his arms right under the stairway leading to her room.

She hadn’t protested, either. Her arms had slipped around his neck, and her lips…He sighed with the memory. Oh, the taste of her lips.

He’d moved closer, breaking the circle of his arms so he could touch her, stroke her body under that slinky, sexy dress. She’d moaned, her breath soft and hot against his ear. He remembered his head spinning, not only from the alcohol, but from the knowledge that this woman—this woman he’d been competing with during their entire tenure at Quantico—actually wanted him as much as he wanted her.

His mouth had explored hers, his hands stroking her silky soft shoulder, then down lower to trace the curve of her breast. She’d moaned, and the sound had acted on him with as much force as if she’d dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He’d pulled her closer, wanting more, wanting everything, and knowing they should go inside one of their rooms but unwilling to do anything that would take her out of his embrace.

She’d leaned back, and their eyes met. At first, her mouth had curved into a smile, but then she’d frowned. Her eyes had widened, and she’d jerked backward. “I have to go,” she said.