Automatic Proposal

You are cordially invited to…

Honor thy pledge

to the

Miami Confidential Agency

Do you hereby swear to uphold

the law to the best of your ability…

To maintain the level of integrity of this agency

by your compassion for victims, loyalty to your

brothers and sisters and courage under fire…

To hold all information and identities

in the strictest confidence…

Or die before breaking the code?

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Bob… Thank you for being my hero

for twenty-five years.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelsey Roberts has penned more than twenty novels, won numerous awards and nominations, and landed on bestseller lists, including USA TODAY and the Ingrams Top 50 List. She has been featured in the New York Times and the Washington Post, and makes frequent appearances on both radio and television. She is considered an expert on why women read and write crime fiction, as well as an excellent authority on plotting and structuring the novel.

She resides in south Florida with her family.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Luke Young—Ex-fiancé of Julia Garcia. Owner of a construction firm, he has a difficult past.

Julia Garcia—Former FBI & DEA agent, now works as a seamstress at Weddings Your Way. Close friend of the Botero family—like a sister to Sonya.

Rachel Brennan—Runs Miami Confidential.

Carlos Botero—Multimillionaire who has a stroke while awaiting word on his kidnapped daughter, Sonya.

Sonya Botero—Being held in a jungle by kidnappers.

Juan DeLeon—Laderan politician who is about to marry Sonya, when she’s kidnapped.

Maggie DeLeon—Juan’s ex-wife in a Laderan institution.

Craig Johnson—The limo driver for the Botero family, who is involved in Sonya’s kidnapping.

AJ Taggert—Luke’s foster brother, who is in trouble with drug dealers and knows Luke’s secrets.

Tommy Anderson—Wants to avenge the murder of his father, Frank.

Betty Anderson—Abused wife of Frank and mother of AJ.

Carmen Lopez—Luke’s younger foster sister.

Contents

Prologue

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

Prologue

Las Vegas, 2000

Hard to hide a gun beneath a wedding dress, Julia Garcia mused. She had a smile full of nerves as she strapped the weapon into its holster high up on her thigh, then let the bunched fabric drop to the floor. She smoothed the skirt in place. Could you tell?

Critically, she checked her image in the full-length mirror, turning this way and that. Not bad. Fortunately, the heavy cream-colored peau de soie dropped in a straight A line from the natural waist, covering a multitude of sins. And one Walther PPK.

Keeping her attention on the outline of her legs beneath the stiff silk, she walked a few steps back and forth, making sure that not even a hint of the handgun could be seen when she moved.

She made a pretty decent looking bride, she thought, meeting her own eyes in the mirror. Although this wasn’t even remotely close to how she’d imagined her wedding day, she still felt a lump of nerves clogging her throat. Not fear nerves, she told herself, more like stage fright nerves. Very appropriate, since this was all an act. Or it was supposed to be. Her heart thudded against her ribs just thinking about him. Which wasn’t part of the plan. She wasn’t supposed to have feelings for Luke. Not real ones, anyway. Julia dismissed her errant thoughts, chalking them up to stress, pressure, anything but the notion that love at first sight was real.

Luke seemed like a nice enough guy. And he was hot. Very hot.

They’d known each other for exactly one week, thanks to her assignment. Although “known” was a gross exaggeration. One couldn’t really get to know a person in seven short days. Hell, until she’d seen the application for the marriage license, she hadn’t even known his middle name.

All that was by design. Her assignment was to learn everything she could about Joe Esterhaus. Luke was collateral damage. Esterhaus was using Luke. She was using Luke. The only person who didn’t know either of those truths was Luke Young.

Julia guessed he’d be pretty pissed when he found out. Fortunately, she’d be long gone by then. She checked the time again, feeling a knot of impatience in her stomach.

“Where the hell are you guys?” she whispered. The small anteroom smelled faintly of flowers and stale perfume. Julia imagined how many real brides had stood here looking at themselves in the same full-length mirror. She guessed that they’d been filled with anticipation and a touch of fear, but most of all they’d been happy and excited about their bright new futures. Secure in the love of the men they had chosen.

Which was where her illusion shattered. My future is anything but secure, she thought, pacing for real now. Damn it. Come on, you guys, it’s hot in here, and this damn dress is starting to make me sweat. And while her weapon and harness wouldn’t show, sweat would, which would reveal her nerves. How many of those imagined brides had walked down the aisle dripping like Niagara Falls?

Stepping over to the door, she opened it a tiny crack, peering out into the chapel. Esterhaus was in the first row of chairs. On the groom’s side. He was a dapper guy in his late forties, with thick, prematurely gray hair. His shoes alone cost more than all four years of her college tuition combined. He might look like a successful entrepreneur, but Julia knew better.

She didn’t see Luke. On a personal level, she felt jilted. On a professional level, she was annoyed. This entire con required that the groom show up. “I’m losing it,” she muttered softly as she soundlessly closed the door.

Tension. Nerves coiled in every one of her muscles. Where the hell were the other agents? She was going to need backup. They knew that. They should all be sitting in those pews, dressed as wedding guests. Especially with a guy as slippery as Esterhaus.

He was normally surrounded by a half-dozen heavily armed men. But here, in the quintessentially Vegas wedding chapel, he was unguarded.

Perfect.

Just what they wanted.

Everything was in place. Everything but the groom, and the agents who were supposed to swoop in and arrest the son of a bitch seconds before she said “I do.”

If they didn’t take him now, they’d have no way of linking the drug shipment to him. The DEA needed to put Esterhaus in prison this time. Twice before, they’d been unable to make a case against the narco-trafficker. But this time, thanks to her efforts, they would finally get him off the streets. Until three hours ago, the DEA had no idea how Esterhaus was getting his product into the country. Julia’s assignment had been to get the information so that the government could find a way to shut him down.

Esterhaus was far from stupid. Three undercover agents had tried and failed to get close to him in the past. Julia had found a way to succeed where they hadn’t. That way’s name was Luke Young.

The most solid lead the DEA had was that Esterhaus used his custom home fixture business as a front for his drug trafficking operation. And that he’d been importing cocaine by the ton. But the DEA had rules to follow. Knowing what Esterhaus was doing and proving it were two different things.

So Julia had gotten close to the man by proxy.

Esterhaus had been spending a lot of time cultivating a business relationship with Luke both before and during the home improvement convention that had drawn them all to Vegas this past week.

Esterhaus had created a brilliant system. He hid his drugs in plain sight. According to what Julia had learned, Esterhaus had the drugs pressed, then encased in porcelain bathroom fixtures. All of this was cleverly and expertly done by a series of East Asian manufacturers. Then the components were run through a bunch of offshore shell corporations, making it nearly impossible for the DEA to connect the product directly back to Esterhaus.

Luke Young had unwittingly turned the tables. He had no idea about the drugs, but he was obviously a savvy businessman. His insistence that Esterhaus provide a sample of the custom fixtures before he placed a large order meant the DEA could finally get the proof they needed to put Esterhaus away for a very, very long time.

Agents were at the warehouse now, executing a search warrant. Another team was supposed to be standing by to arrest the drug lord the second they had the evidence in hand. Julia glanced at the clock again, her palms damp with nerves. If the agents didn’t show up soon, she’d have to go through with the ceremony. That was part of the arrest plan. Luke seemed like a nice enough guy, but Julia was a career agent, and she had no desire to marry anytime soon. There were a lot of things she’d do for her country, but she wasn’t sure marrying a stranger she’d known all of a week, just because her backup couldn’t get their act together in time, was one of them.

She whispered an impatient curse, feeling her stomach lurch. Part of her nervousness was normal, and due to the fact that her whole system was on high alert, as it always was before a sting. The other part was a result of trying to decide her next move should the arrest be delayed. Would she get fired if she chose not to say “I do?”

“I get married,” she grumbled. If she didn’t, she’d surely arouse the suspicions of Esterhaus. If that happened, there was no telling how long it might take for the DEA to get another foothold into the drug cartel.

“Get the lead out, guys,” she said under her breath.

But poor Luke. He really seemed like a decent guy. In another time and place, he was the kind of man she’d enjoy getting to know. Once he discovered he was nothing more than a pawn in all of this, he’d probably consign her to the depths of hell.

She drew in a deep breath to calm her pounding pulse. Again she went to the door and opened it, peering out into the small chapel. Esterhaus was still seated in place. Only now, Luke was at the altar.

Seeing him standing there in a dark tux caused her breath to catch in her throat. She hadn’t been jilted after all. He epitomized the cliché of tall, dark and handsome.

Julia was five foot six in her stocking feet, yet Luke towered over her by about ten inches. His shoulders were broad, his muscled body tapering down to a trim waist. He was very tanned, a testament to the fact that he was a hands-on kind of construction boss. Julia couldn’t see his eyes, but she didn’t need to—they were branded on her brain. Deep, rich brown, the color of Cuban coffee; rimmed in dark, inky lashes the same shade as his slightly too long hair.

Julia suffered another pang of guilt. Intellectually, she knew using Luke was the means to a righteous end. Emotionally, and she blamed this on the wedding dress, she didn’t want Luke to get hurt. It wasn’t like they’d professed their undying love for one another, right? This was just a job.

She adjusted the gown, tugging the strapless silk bodice to a more modest position. She smiled wryly. Stupid time for her Catholic school upbringing to rear its ugly head. Maybe it wasn’t her nun-induced sense of propriety. Maybe it was just that she didn’t want her fellow agents bursting through the door and getting an eyeful of her breasts.

If she had an hour and a sewing machine, she could alter the dress. Some people knitted to relax. She sewed, and she was damn good. Maybe an inch of lace across the bodice; she could take it from the hem, no problem.

What was she thinking about sewing for? Where the hell were those agents? She rolled her eyes at the idiotic turn of her thoughts.

She jumped when someone rapped gently on the door.

“We’re ready!” she heard the wedding assistant call.

Julia sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Depending on nothing more than hope that the agents found what they needed fast—like, before she turned into Julia Young—she grabbed up the pale pink roses tied with a satin ribbon, and reached for the door.

“Here Comes the Bride” was piped in through the speakers embedded in the ceiling as Julia began a slow walk down the aisle with her gun strapped to her thigh. She was ready.

She looked nervous. Terrified, actually. Luke shifted his weight from foot to foot and battled the strong urge to yank at the tight collar cinched around his throat.

Even looking as if she was walking into the path of an oncoming train, Julia was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was dark and exotic, inspiring all sorts of fantasies he felt certain were inappropriate in a church. Well, church was a stretch. The Chapel of Love was more like a matrimonial weigh station.

What in the hell am I doing? Luke wondered for the umpteenth time that day.

This wasn’t like him. He didn’t do things on a whim. He was not an impulsive kind of guy. Every decision, no matter how small, was approached with care and deliberation. A lesson well-learned by the age of seventeen.

But life’s lessons and pretty much every other rational thought zinged right out of his brain within seconds of laying eyes on his approaching bride.

She was close enough now for him to catch the scent of her perfume. Something unexpectedly floral. Sunlight glinted off the sheen of her dress. Well, it wasn’t a dress so much as it was a whisper of fabric outlining her shapely top half and hiding the just as shapely lower half in a mile of cream-colored material.

That was just one of the things he admired about his future wife. She had a woman’s body. Full and sexy as hell. Just seeing a hint of her deep cleavage sent his mind back into the gutter. He wasn’t alone, either. Luke noticed that his about-to-be new supplier had his eyes glued on Julia.

Luke suffered a surprising surge of jealousy. I’ve known this woman a week and I’m feeling proprietorial? his brain challenged. Either he was crazy in love or just plain crazy. His eyes met Julia’s as she approached and his heart skipped a beat, as it always did when he saw her.

She didn’t look nervous or unsure now. She looked like a serene and beautiful bride approaching the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with. Their love would grow, Luke was sure.

Keeping his eyes on her, he prodded his emotions. Was he sure about this? It was a hell of a commitment based on very little.

He needed to make up his mind now.

He considered turning on his heel and running, but then he looked into those incredible eyes of hers. They were a pale gray, the same shade as a storm cloud just beginning to gather strength.

The deep, rich caramel tinge to her skin set off the lightness of her eyes. She’d left her long, curly black hair loose, allowing it to fall freely over her bared shoulders.

Luke could imagine himself brushing aside the silken strands and kissing his way along her collarbone to the pulse point at her throat, then higher still until he was treated to the taste of her full, glossed lips.

He practically groaned aloud from the effect of his vivid mental image.

Julia took her place beside Luke, struggling to keep her smile in place. Where the hell was the arrest squad?

The music stopped and the Internet-ordained minister smiled up at her. “Let us begin.”

Julia swallowed and nodded, wondering if some strange quirk of fate was going to bind her to a stranger. Her hands were shaking as they gripped the bouquet.

Fixing her eyes on the knot of Luke’s tie, she struggled to keep from glancing over her shoulder to check on the focus of the sting.

“Do you, Luke, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

Impressive. Luke hadn’t hesitated at all. Julia wasn’t sure she could still speak English as her turn approached.

“Julia, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I—” The door at the back of the chapel burst open, letting in a stream of sunlight and a dozen windbreaker-clad agents. Relief and regret vied as Julia turned to the door, then back to face Luke. “Apparently,” she said apologetically, “I don’t.”

Chapter One

Miami, 2006

“You’re too close to this one, Julia.”

Rachel Brennan didn’t even bother to look up as she sat behind the large glass-and-chrome desk. Because she was the head of Miami Confidential, her word should have been final.

Julia didn’t see it that way. She was so angry and worried and frustrated she wasn’t seeing much of anything. But she knew her only hope of changing Rachel’s mind lay in convincing her boss that she was capable of working the Botero case without letting her personal feelings interfere. They’d been through this more than once since the kidnapping of Sonya Botero a couple of weeks ago. Rachel kept insisting Julia help out, but from behind the scenes. Julia wanted a more active role and refused to settle for anything less.

The three chunky, brightly colored, acrylic bracelets on Julia’s right wrist clanked loudly as she braced her fingertips against the edge of the desk.

Rachel grudgingly lifted her clear blue eyes. “Was there a particular letter in the word no you didn’t understand?”

Julia didn’t so much as blink at the caution in the other woman’s tone. “I’m not a liability, I’m an asset. I’ve known the Botero family since I was a kid. C’mon, Rachel, I lived with Sonya my last year of high school. Mr. Botero trusts me. I’m like a daughter to him.”

“Which is why you need to take a seat. Look…” Rachel paused to put her pen down next to a neat stack of folders. “Getting Sonya Botero back from her kidnappers is our top priority. I won’t have the job compromised because you’ve got a personal connection to the victim and her family.”

“How will I compromise the assignment?” Julia argued. “If anything, my affection for the Boteros only makes me more determined to find Sonya and bring her home safely.”

Rachel leaned back in the deep red, glove-leather executive chair, stroking the tip of one perfectly manicured fingernail across her chin. The woman looked more like a pageant contestant than the head of a group of highly trained Confidential agents. Her ebony hair was piled loosely on top of her head, secured with a lapis clip that matched the color of her eyes. In spite of the legendary south Florida heat and humidity, Rachel’s makeup was fashion-model perfect. But looks were deceiving. Julia knew that Rachel was a legend in the business.

“You’re one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with, Julia,” Rachel said. “You’ve got a great future ahead of you. I don’t want to see that derailed because you let your personal feelings prevent you from—”

“They won’t,” Julia interrupted. “Have I ever been anything but completely professional?”

“No,” her boss answered with complete candor.

“Then trust me, Rachel. Trust that I’m a team player who is capable of keeping my focus.”

“You’re a frustrated team player,” Rachel replied pointedly.

Julia refused to let her shoulders slump. So we’re going to beat this dead horse again. “I came to Miami Confidential because I wanted more responsibility and more autonomy than I had with the DEA.”

“Which you will get,” Rachel repeated.

Julia bit back the urge to ask how many more gowns she’d have to sew or tuxedos she’d have to alter before that became a reality. She wanted to be a full-time agent, not a seamstress. “And I appreciate your faith in me. I’m just asking you to extend that faith to include me in the Botero case. I swear you won’t be disappointed, Rachel. Have I ever let you down? Let the team down? Even once? I’m practically a member of the Botero family. You don’t have anyone else as close to them. I’m an asset,” she repeated, to make her point.

Reluctantly, Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Julia.”

Julia held both her breath and her tongue; it sounded as if her boss was waffling.

“But against my better judgment I’m finally going to say yes, because you’re right about being an asset. You’re not going to be the primary,” she told her flatly. “But your connection to the Botero family might be useful. Just don’t let any personal feelings for the victim blind you to what has to be done. I expect you to do your job, and remain professional and focused at all times.”

“I will.” Julia’s heart rate increased. “Thank you,” she said, exhaling the breath she’d been holding as she began backing out of the well-camouflaged offices. “You won’t regret this.”

Rachel tossed out a stern look. “See that I don’t.”

Nodding, Julia felt behind the bookcase and found the keypad that opened the secret door. Half afraid that Rachel would change her mind, she decided a hasty exit was the best option.

Using the back stairway, she entered the public area of Weddings Your Way. The scent of coffee mingled with the fragrance of freshly cut flowers as she moved across the polished tile floor toward her office.

No one would ever have guessed that the upscale Miami business was actually a front for one of the most specialized agencies in the country. Confidential agents worked out of branch offices all over the United States. Because of her sewing skills, Julia had been assigned to Weddings Your Way.

The obvious benefit was the location. Miami was her home, and after four years of moving all over the place at the whim of the DEA, she was all too ready to return to the warm, tropical, familiar surroundings of her childhood.

Julia’s office was a large space that occupied the northwest corner of the second story of the converted Spanish-style home on the shore of Biscayne Bay. A wide partition separated her desk from the actual sewing area.

Sidestepping two bolts of fabric leaning against the wall, she slipped behind her cluttered desk, sat down and began flipping through her Rolodex.

Though she and Sonya had been as close as sisters, Julia’s work as an undercover agent had created a distance between them. She felt a pang of guilt now, regretting every opportunity lost to fix the breach in their relationship, as she hunted for Sonya’s exact address and the code that would get her past the building’s security and into Sonya’s condo.

Regret was tempered by the resurgence of anger as she remembered the way Sonya had been snatched, right out front of Weddings Your Way. The Botero family was very, very rich. Uncle Carlos had his fingers in all sorts of pies, so the possibilities of who was behind the kidnapping of his only daughter were pretty much endless. Added to that, Sonya’s fiancé, Juan DeLeon, was a prominent and controversial politician in Ladera. Politics and kidnapping—particularly in struggling, corrupt South American countries—went hand in hand.

A preliminary investigation on the Laderan angle was already being investigated by Isabelle and Rafe, two other Confidential agents. So Julia decided she should focus, at least for now, on the home front.

Scribbling down the address, she glanced over and saw the message light blinking. She thought about ignoring it, but knew better. No one was more persistent and demanding than a frazzled bride, and the last thing she needed was to compromise the Weddings Your Way front by allowing a bride to suffer a psychotic break.

The first two messages were from suppliers; the beads she’d ordered were finally on their way via overnight express, and the company in Ireland would ship the lace she’d been waiting on by the end of the week.