Lyn Stone - The Agent's Proposition

Cameron sat up and gave Tess the sweetest smile. “I have never in my life ripped clothes off a woman. Undressing is foreplay. Why miss out on that?”

His hand traveled up her leg, beneath the silken skirt and rested for a moment on her hip. One teasing finger slipped beneath the strap at the side of her thong. His lazy gaze never left hers.

Tess saw right into his mind in that instant as if he had opened up to her on purpose, an offering of trust, a gift. She saw raw anticipation. She saw all that he imagined they would do together. She saw need that stretched beyond the night. Tantalizing. And erotic.

Slowly he removed his hand from beneath the dress, caressing her leg as he began to lift the hem. When he drew it over her head and carefully laid it aside, Tess shivered with eagerness….

Dear Reader,

Here’s what happens when an idealistic, by-the-book agent with little experience meets a seasoned operative who has battled burnout, the bad guys and also the bureaucracy that put him in place. Cameron lost the last round, but has a second chance on all fronts if he chooses to accept the challenge.

The ability to adapt to the situation plays a crucial role in an undercover operative’s work. He or she often has to assume a persona that doesn’t quite fit. Is it possible, in the acting out of the part, to discover hidden corners of the personality that conceal unexpected traits? Tess and Cameron will find out. Surprises are in store as the op brings out the best and worst of both.

Perhaps The Big Reveal is just as well for two people falling head over heels against all the rules and their better judgment. Love will lay it all on the line in The Agent’s Proposition.

Join the ride. It’s bound to be wild!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

is a former artist who developed an early and avid interest in criminology while helping her husband study for his degree. His subsequent career in counterintelligence and his contacts in the field provided a built-in source for research in writing suspense. Their long and happy marriage provided firsthand knowledge of happily-ever-afters.

This book is dedicated to my good friend

Shauna Keenon, one courageous lady.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

McLean, Virginia

“Sir, why in the world would you want to hire this man for our team?” Tess Bradshaw demanded. “Look at this last performance appraisal!” She thumped the page for emphasis as she read aloud. “Employs unorthodox methods, ignores rules and regulations. I can see why the CIA branded him a rogue and forced him to resign.”

Jack Mercier shrugged. “We need him, at least temporarily. So convince him to come on board.”

Tess tossed the page on the desk, sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, shaking her head as she did. “Does he have any special abilities?”

Each of the agents on the SEXTANT and COMPASS teams had some edge that made them and the units special, like a photographic mind, a phenomenal ear for languages or psychic skills. Tess was an empath. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Cochran’s lack of an edge, since her own wasn’t all that well honed yet. She was still amazed to find herself a member of a civilian special ops team specializing in counterintelligence.

“He’s a good hacker and extremely proficient at physically following up on what he finds. He’s excellent at infiltrating, adapting and anticipating. Also speaks three languages fluently. Not unusual for our teams, but remarkable enough.”

“Are we after the same group who threatened the Bulk Power System eighteen months ago? Could it be Al Qaeda?”

“Maybe. We do know they have detailed schematics for our power facilities. But this threat is virtually identical to the last one, when they cut the power for almost all the eastern seaboard. Cyber Security managed to override their control within a few hours, but this new threat is more sophisticated.”

“All the agencies are on this, I bet.”

“Working all fronts. The NSA tracked the origin of the e-mails to a general location but is unable to pinpoint the actual source. Maybe Cochran can zero in on it. He did last time and was ready to apprehend. The Company jumped the gun and botched his efforts, then shifted the blame to Cochran. I hope this chance for redemption will prompt Cochran to join us, at least for this op.”

“What if he’s bitter, or just not interested?” she asked.

“Then you will have failed your mission, Agent Bradshaw. Get him interested. We have only a week before the lights go out.” He handed her another file with the details of the earlier case and added a smaller folder of travel documents. “You’ll find him on Tybee Island on the Georgia coast.” He tapped the new folder with one finger. “His passport, credentials and a badge. Don’t let go of these unless he agrees to do this.”

“I’ll convince him,” she declared. Orders were orders. “Where will he be going on the op?”

Mercier stood up, her signal that the briefing was over. “The French Riviera. Better buy yourself a new bikini and some sunscreen when you land in Savannah.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re going with him.”

Tybee Island, Georgia

Cameron Cochran lounged on the deck of the Lucky Duck, his thirty-one-foot Morgan powerboat. Café Loco looked too busy for him to go over there for beer, and he was down to his last one.

He propped his bare feet on the rail and rubbed the surviving cold bottle of Dos Equis across the middle of his chest to cool off. It was damned hot for early October, even for Georgia.

In another few weeks he planned to knock off for the year. The fishing business was slow anyway. He hadn’t had the boat out of the creek and in open water for three days. A good many of the neighboring slips were empty today, but most of them advertised, did tours, catered to tourists. He took only small groups of two or three who seriously liked to fish.

Tomorrow’s client was late in coming by with the deposit, and he had a good mind to go ahead and leave. Might as well finish the beer. He took a swig and sighed.

Life was good here. He still had that feeling something was missing, though. Maybe the high he got when all his senses were revved and the safety was off. Maybe a little passion for what he was doing. Maybe a little passion, period.

Cameron grunted at the maudlin thought and took another swallow, enjoying the cool brew. He had it made. What fool wouldn’t love to be doing what he was doing, bunking on a sweet little craft and fishing for a living?