She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek, a kiss of thanks. Of understanding. And of something more …

“Stay with me.” Her words whispered, featherlight, where she pressed her lips to his ear.

The secrets that swirled around Adair Acres nearly held him back. He cared for her and he didn’t want to take advantage of her situation. A situation that would have a resolution.

Her lips moved once more against his ear. “Make love with me because it’s what we both want.”

When he hesitated, torn between what he wanted and what he believed was right, she pushed on.

“This is what I want, Derek. I want you. Forget all the reasons we shouldn’t. Be with me. Just because.”

He’d felt himself capitulating, but it was only when she said the last that he knew he was lost.

“Yes.”

Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting new series: The Adair Affairs The notorious and powerful political family is back with even more secrets.

Secret Agent Boyfriend

Addison Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ADDISON FOX is a Philadelphia girl transplanted to Dallas, Texas. Although her similarities to Grace Kelly stop at sharing the same place of birth, she’s often dreamed of marrying a prince and living along the Mediterranean.

In the meantime, she’s more than happy penning romance novels about two strong-willed and exciting people who deserve their happy-ever-after—after she makes them work so hard for it, of course. When she’s not writing, she can be found spending time with family and friends, reading or enjoying a glass of wine.

Find out more about Addison or contact her at her website—www.addisonfox.com—or catch up with her on Facebook (addisonfoxauthor) and Twitter (@addisonfox).

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To Family

The ones we’re blessed to be born with and the ones we’re lucky enough to find along the way.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Landry Adair flipped and pushed herself off the concrete wall of the pool. The heated water kept her body comfortable while the cool morning air coated the back of her skin as she swam lap after lap.

Forty-four.

The words echoed in her head, a promise that she had only six more laps to reach her daily goal.

Spring was in the air, and each time she took a breath the light scent of alfalfa mixed with a deep, rich citrus that wafted up from the lush valley that formed the backdrop of Adair Acres.

Home.

Even if it had felt more like a prison these past months.

She turned off the pool wall with an extra hard push, images of her father’s funeral and the ensuing madness since filling her thoughts. Secrets. Kidnapping. And murder.

Her father might have been a distant man, but she’d never given up hope Reginald Adair might come to be the real father she’d always craved.

The pain she’d worked so diligently to push to the back of her mind reared up and swamped her, choking her throat and pushing her up out of the pool, gasping for breath. Hot tears spilled over her cheeks, made even hotter by the cool spring air that blew over her skin.

When would it stop? The moments of abject pain that came up and simply swallowed her when she thought of her father, his life snuffed out by the will of another.

A hard cough drew her from her thoughts, and she ran wet hands over her cheeks to remove the tears before turning. No one interrupted her morning sessions in the pool, and it was jarring to know someone was there.

And they’d seen her tears.

Whatever embarrassment that might have caused faded as she took in the large male form that stood at the edge of the pool. Long and lean, she caught only a vague sense of dark features as the early-morning sun limned his frame, highlighting an impressive set of shoulders in a rich patina of gold.

Wrapping the haughty demeanor she’d perfected through the years around her own shoulders like a shawl, she climbed up the pool ladder to get a better look at their visitor. Because of the lingering threats of the past few months, no one got onto Adair property without passing several security checkpoints.

If he was here, he was meant to be here.

But who was he?

“Miss Adair?”

He spoke first, his voice rich and deep. She ignored the outreach as she grabbed her towel, curious when a buzz of nerves lit her stomach.

Landry dried her face but let her body drip water on the Spanish tiles that made up the length of the pool terrace. Although she hated scrutiny, she knew well enough how to use her long, lithe body as a weapon, and the water would only highlight her curves.

It might have been a trick as old as time, but it remained a surprisingly effective tool against the male of the species.

“Landry?” Sharper now, but with a hint of something husky and warm in that deep baritone.

“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.

“You may want to rethink that, since you’ve never been up against a nameless killer or a missing-person’s case.”

“Ah yes, family drama worthy of a nighttime soap.” She eyed him over the rim of her coffee mug, more amusement in her gaze than any trace of fear, before leaning forward. “Does my aunt Kate think my mother killed my father, too? That’s the prevailing wisdom, you know.”

The urge to hold back was strong, but he went with honesty. For her own protection, Landry deserved at least that much. But on a deeper level, he sensed he’d gain far more by appealing to her inherent intelligence than placating her as he suspected too many others did. “She hasn’t ruled anything out. And your mother’s mad dash to Europe hasn’t put suspicious minds to rest.”

“She’s also an easy target. Kate has never cared for my mother.”

“From what little I’ve gathered, I’d say that’s a sport around here.”

Derek saw the moment his words registered, her eyes going round in her face before the first genuine smile curved her lips. “Now that’s one you don’t hear every day.”

“I’m not here to placate anyone. And I suspect I’d be rather bad at it if I tried.”

Her smile faded, their moment of connection lost. “What else did my aunt say?”

“She believes you’re all in danger, you especially. And she believes that danger won’t pass until the identity of your brother Jackson is discovered.”

Landry settled back in her seat, the aggression fading from her shoulders. “Ah yes, the missing Adair heir. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

If the past few days had shown him anything, it was that the Adairs knew how to keep to themselves. Yes, they had a legion of staff at their disposal, but they were a family that lived at the highest echelons of society. Babbling about their family business wasn’t in their nature. And he suspected that what conversation had gone on was done behind closed doors so even the servants couldn’t hear all the details.

“No, it’s all you and your family can talk about. And it’s the real reason Kate asked me to come.”

Her gaze roamed over his face, and he fought the urge to shift in his seat under that direct stare. Before she could say anything, he pressed on. “My expertise is missing-persons cases. It’s what I do for the FBI and I’m damn good at it.”

Until recently.

That admonition whispered like smoke through his mind, and he ignored it. Ignored that pervasive sense of failure that had dogged his heels like the hounds of hell since his last case went unsolved. Ignored the resulting sense of loss at his failure to protect an innocent young girl.

Landry Adair wasn’t Rena.

And he wouldn’t fail again.

“So that’s the gig? You pose as my new boyfriend so you can nose around here and dig into the past?”

“Pretty much.”

Landry slipped on her sunglasses, the shielding of her eyes as clear a message as simply standing up and walking away. “I’ll consider it on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re partners on your little investigation.”

“I work better alone.”

“Then you can head right back the way you came. Despite what she may think, my aunt doesn’t have a say in what goes on in this house. Neither do my brothers. And while I may love all of them to pieces, I’m not going to follow along like some frightened puppy.”

“I’m a trained professional.”

“And I live here. You’ll do far better as my ally than my enemy.”

Derek knew he had a stubborn streak a mile wide and twice as deep. He also knew when it made sense to step back and let the target think they had the lead. He’d give Landry Adair her head for a few days. From all the intel he had, it was easy to assume she’d get bored in less time, anyway.

“No one can know what I’m after.”

“Of course.”

“Not even your mother.”

“Then it won’t be a change from how we usually get on. I don’t tell my mother anything. And as you so succinctly mentioned, she’s out of the country right now anyway.”

With her eyes shaded, he couldn’t see any hint of emotion deep in her expressive gaze, but even sunglasses couldn’t hide the subtle tightening of her slim shoulders. “So we’re agreed?”

“Agreed.”

She extended her hand across the table and Derek hesitated, the implied contract not lost on him. When she only waited, he slid his fingers over hers, her delicate skin soft under his calloused palm.

It didn’t make sense, nor was it rational, but in that moment he knew his world had reordered itself. And he knew with even greater certainty that nothing would ever be the same again.

Her hand slipped from his as she stood, her breakfast untouched. “Well, then. You’d better get ready.”

“For what?”

“We’ve got a governor to go meet.”

* * *

Landry slipped her cell phone into her caramel-colored clutch purse and left her room. She’d already fastened on her suit—Armani, of course—and the subtle jewelry that had become her trademark. Her heels sank into the ranch’s plush carpet as she moved from her wing toward the main staircase.

Although she’d been raised with the understanding that not much was expected of her beyond perfect hair, impeccable manners and a few well-chosen charities, she’d determined early on that she wasn’t going to let that be an excuse. So she’d channeled the frustration born of low expectations—along with boredom and a damn fine business degree—into making life better for others.

It had been a fulfilling choice until recently.

Until the bottom had dropped out of her world and she’d been forced to wonder about the morals, ethics and basic decency of her loved ones.

And her mother sat at the top of the list.

As Patsy Adair’s youngest child—and only daughter—she’d grown up with the knowledge that her mother was different. Cold and brittle, she wore both like a battle shield against the world. And wielded them equally well.

As a result, Landry had gone to the right schools. Had the right friends. Hell, she’d nearly even married the right man because it fit what was expected of her.

Wealth brought privileges and expectation in equal measure, and Landry had always understood that. What she couldn’t understand was how her mother could live a life so devoid of warmth and kindness.

Or love.

She turned down the last corridor toward the stairs and came to a stop at the top, thoughts of her family and their low expectations vanishing as if they’d never been.

Derek Winchester stood in the great hall, a phone pressed to his ear, and she gave herself a moment to look her fill. The same impression she’d gotten this morning of subtle strength and power was still there, but she let others swirl and form around it. He was tall and whipcord lean, but the strength in those broad shoulders was more than evident.

His coloring was dark—darker than she’d realized in the sun—and she placed his ancestry as holding some, if not all, Native American. Unbidden, an image of him on horseback filled her mind’s eye, roaming the High Plains and protecting his family from harm.

Protecting what was his.

She fought the fanciful notion and continued on down the stairs, already on the descent before he could catch her staring at him. Landry fought the slight hitch in her chest when she cleared the last stair and came to stand next to him.

And she refused to give an inch by relaxing the haughty demeanor that she swirled around herself like a cloak. “Do you have a suit jacket?”

“In the car.”

“And a tie?”

“Right next to the jacket.”

“Then let’s get them and go.”

Twenty minutes later they were on their way toward San Diego in her BMW. Unwilling to ruin her hair, she left the top up all while cursing herself for the choice. She should have selected her large SUV instead of the tight confines of the two-seater.

Serious mistake.

Derek’s large body filled up those confines and she could swear she felt the heat rising off the edge of his shoulders, branding her with its intensity.

“What event are we going to?”

Landry filled him in on the work of her favorite charity, the project’s focus on children an ongoing highlight in her life. Although she’d let several of her other commitments lapse over the last few months since her father’s death, she’d refused to cut ties with the bright and able-bodied leaders who worked tirelessly to ensure that the children of Southern California had enough basic necessities to not only survive, but blossom.

Weekend camps, tutoring and days out simply enjoying their youth were a mainstay of the organization, and in the past three years she’d seen the children who took part begin to thrive.

“Sounds like a special group. Why is the governor attending?”

“He promised some additional funding if we met certain testing criteria, and the children in the program exceeded every goal set for them.”

“You’re proud of them.”

“Absolutely.” The response was out, warm and friendly, without a trace of her “haughty demeanor” cloak.

“Everyone needs a champion. Those children are lucky to have you on their side.”

Whether it was the close confines or something more, Landry didn’t know, but she sensed something underneath his words. Treading carefully despite the curiosity that ran hot in her veins, she nodded and kept her tone neutral. “All children deserve that.”

“Even if there are too many who don’t get that opportunity. Or a chance to shine.”

And there it was.

That subtle suggestion of something indefinable. Of something more.

“You speak from experience?”

“My work revolves around missing-persons cases. There aren’t nearly as many happy endings as there should be. Or beginnings, for that matter.”

The urge to remain distant was strong, but something long dead inside her sparked back to life. “It sounds like a taxing profession.”

“At times. But it’s also one I’m good at. Your aunt was a part of that.” She shifted into another lane, the sign for their exit coming up, and he continued on. “I was on her protection detail, but she saw something in me. She knew I had ambitions beyond security, and when a job opened on the FBI’s missing-persons team she gave me a glowing recommendation.”

“You must have impressed her. Kate Adair doesn’t do ‘glowing’ lightly.”

“She’s a special woman.”

Landry risked a glance at him as she slowed for her exit ramp. His face was set in hard lines as he stared straight ahead, his gaze set on something only he could see. Once more, the realization that something hovered just under the surface tugged at her.

The hotel came up on her right, and she pulled into the valet station. Two valets rushed to open their doors, the man on her left all smiles as he gave her his hand. “Welcome back, Miss Adair.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

Landry didn’t miss Derek’s widened eyes over the top of the car or the assessing gaze that accompanied his perusal. Annoyance speared through her at the speculation she saw there—and the surprise that she’d know the name of a hotel employee.

Whatever he thought—or whatever she believed she’d seen—vanished under a facade that was all business as he rounded the front of the car. With swift movements, he took her hand. “Come on, darling.”

Heat traveled up her arm, zinging from her fingers to her wrist to her elbow before beelining straight for her belly. She kept her expression bright and her smile wide, even as she clamped down on her back teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His grip tightened, his smile equally fierce as another set of employees opened the hotel’s double front doors. “Why, escorting you, of course.”

“I hardly think this is necessary.”

“Of course it’s necessary. People see what they want to see, and we’ve got something for them to talk about. You’re showing off your new love, whom you can’t bear to be parted from.”

While she’d later admit to herself she had no excuse, in that moment she could no more stop herself than she could have voluntarily stopped breathing. The combative imp that liked to plant itself on her shoulder—the one that regularly whispered she needed to push against convention and what was expected of her—couldn’t resist putting her earlier impressions into words.

“So it’s all about distraction, then.”

The rich scent of lilies filled the air around them, dripping from the six-foot vases that filled the lobby of the hotel, a vivid counterpoint to the foul stench of her father’s murder that had seemingly clung to her—to all of them—for the past two months.

“Distraction?” Derek’s eyebrows rose over the almost-black depths of his eyes.

“Of course. It helps hide the secrets. Like a sleight of hand, it focuses attention elsewhere.”

“Are you suggesting you’re hiding a secret?”

“No. But I think you are.”

Landry had to give him credit, he held it together, his poker face firmly intact. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she wouldn’t have even noticed that slight tightening of his jaw that gave him away.

“Everybody’s got a few, you know. But in this case, I’d say your secrets are more present. Recent, even,” she said.

“I don’t have any secrets.”

“Oh, no?” Landry waited a beat or two—her father had taught her the effectiveness of the approach—and watched as his attention caught, then held on her. “Then what is a big, bad FBI agent doing here on babysitting duty?”

Chapter 2

Secrets.

The word whispered over and over through Derek’s mind, filling up every nook and crevice until he barely knew who he was anymore.

Hell yes, he had secrets. And an endless series of questions that always culminated in the biggest query of all. When had it all gone so wrong?

Six months ago he was a man with a plan. A career he loved. A fiancée he was planning on spending the rest of his life with. And a series of cases that gave him purpose each and every day.

And now he was a glorified babysitter, living with the memories of a child who was still missing, a perp wounded by Derek’s own hand and a leave of absence while the FBI investigated it all.

Did he have secrets? Bile choked his throat at the raw truth of that question.

He had a boatload of secrets, and every damn one of them was eating him alive.

“Stay with me, Ace.” Landry’s sultry voice whispered in his ear moments before her hand came to rest on his forearm. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

She cocked her head, the motion almost comical if it weren’t for the well of compassion she couldn’t fully hide beneath her gentle blue gaze. “You keep telling yourself that.”

She turned away before he could respond, and then there was no need when the governor stood before them, his crisp black suit as perfect as his smile.

“Governor Nichols. So lovely to see you again. I so enjoyed catching up at Congresswoman Meyers’s home last November.”

“As did I, Landry.”

Landry made quick introductions and Derek sensed the question that hovered in the air among all three of them.

Who was this man with one of California’s favorite daughters?

Was he good enough?

Would he ever be?

“Derek’s a friend of my aunt Kate. She’s raved about him for years and simply insisted we had to meet.”

The governor’s handshake was firm and his eye contact direct as he nodded through Landry’s introduction. “Kate always gets what she wants.”

Landry’s arm wrapped around Derek’s the moment he was done shaking hands and she squeezed. Hard. “Don’t I know it.”

Derek took that as his cue, smiling at Landry before turning toward Nichols. “And clearly I’m the lucky beneficiary. A beautiful, dynamic woman on my arm and the endorsement of another dynamic beauty.”

“And what do you do, Mr. Winchester?” Nichols’s smile was broad, but Derek didn’t miss the continued curiosity underneath the polite veneer.

“A little of this, a little of that.”

“Derek’s got the especially lucky opportunity to travel where his whims take him. Give of his time where he sees fit. And support the causes that are near and dear to him.”

Landry’s quick description of a wealthy, aimless playboy had the governor’s eyes dulling, and Derek chafed at the description.

Sure, he was here on an op, nothing more. But it still stung.

He worked damn hard, for every single thing in his life. None of it had come easy, nor had it come without a price. Long hours. Endless days spent briefing and debriefing, planning and then executing to a precise schedule.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries—and Landry’s confirmation of when the organization could expect a check from the governor’s office as promised. Only when Nichols walked away did Derek feel Landry relax by his side, her grip loosening, even though she didn’t fully pull away.

“Nice job, Slick. Even if you were gritting your teeth through my flowery description of your globe-trotting adventures.”

“I have a name, you know.”

She dropped his arm, but the husky register of her voice made him feel as if they still touched. Intimately.

“Yes, but then how can I objectify you in my mind? If I use your name, I’ll be forced to see you as a person.”

He marveled at her words and their distillation of something career abusers inherently understood. Objectify the victim. See them as something separate. Apart. If you don’t humanize them, then there’s no guilt over your choices—as with Rena and her captor.

“That’s awfully deep. And here I thought you had a business degree.”

“With a minor in psychology.” She patted his arm before reaching for the slim purse she’d laid on their table.

“I’d say you understand more than a few courses’ worth.”

Those husky notes gave way to a lighter, airier tone. “Ah, yes. The glorious education one receives as an Adair. We can’t forget that.”

Derek followed her back the way they came, down a long corridor and then through the main lobby. “Sounds lonely.”

“At times. Until you hit a point when you don’t care any longer.” The breezy socialite was back as she handed her valet ticket to the attendant.

Derek marveled at her quick and ready costume changes—the cool, refined temptress from the pool to the excited ingenue on their drive over to the responsible socialite with the governor.

Each one was undoubtedly a facet of her personality, but which one was dominant? Which one was the real Landry Adair?

And when had he begun to crave the answer?

* * *

Landry offered up a small “come in” at the knock on her bedroom door. She shoved the Roosevelt biography under her covers and opened the tabloid just as her brother Carson walked in.

She glanced up from a spread on upcoming summer movies and closed the issue, tossing it beside the bed before Carson could see she had it upside down. “Hey there, big brother.”

“Hey, yourself.”

Carson limped into the room, the bullet wound that had ended his career in the Marines a permanent presence in his life. Thankfully, so was his new fiancée, Georgia.

She’d worried for him when he first came home, ghosts dwelling in the blue eyes that were a match for her own. But in the past month he’d turned the corner. Their father’s death weighed heavily on all of them, but the fact that he’d found something strong and true with Georgia Mason had changed him.

And when you added how they found each other, Carson’s journey back to full emotional health was especially amazing.

“I heard you were out and about today.”

“When am I not?” She shifted on her bed, making room for Carson’s well-muscled form. He might move a bit more slowly than in the past, but he was far from soft. In fact, in some ways, his new physical limitations had only pushed him harder to keep his body in top condition.

“Let me rephrase my point. I heard you were out and about today with Derek Winchester.”

“Ah. You mean the babysitter.”

Landry let the words dangle there, curious to see Carson’s reaction. “The man’s damn good at what he does.”

“It still doesn’t mean I need to be watched over.”

“Come on. We discussed this and you said you were okay with it.”

They had. And she was.

Until a long, lean warrior arrived at the edge of her pool at eight o’clock this morning. The man messed up her routine and her order. He made her curious. About him. About what had brought him to their door. About what it might be like to kiss him.

And to ignore the fact that their relationship was a fake and pretend for a few glorious moments it was 100 percent real.

Shrugging it off, she tossed a jaunty smile toward her brother. “A girl has a right to change her mind.”

“Then if it’s that easy, change it back.”

“Why have we let an outsider in?”

“So he can see the things we can’t. We’re too close to it all. We’ve got absolutely zero perspective, and that makes us vulnerable.”

“I’m not too close to anything.”

“Oh, no?” Carson stretched out and folded his hands behind his head like a pillow. “You can honestly sit here and tell me you aren’t shocked as hell that we might have a brother somewhere?”

“No.” Yes. She averted her eyes rather than admit the truth to Carson with his all-knowing gaze.

“And you’re equally not shocked that someone shot and killed our father in cold blood.”

“Oh, come on, that’s below the belt, Cars.”

“No. It’s honest.” Carson shifted, rolling onto his side. “You know as well as I do this is not only a shock, but it’s happening from the inside.”

Much as she wanted to argue, Landry knew he was right. The events of the past few months had sent an earthquake through their family. While much of it was a blur at times, she couldn’t deny her brother’s words.

Underneath it all, everything felt personal. And way, way too close.

First her father’s death, shot in his office at point-blank range. Then the discovery during the reading of his will of a kidnapped child from his first marriage. Even their mother’s race to Europe smacked of personal knowledge.

Carson’s voice dropped. “And you know we can’t discard the questions about Noah.”

Despite the large rooms and relative isolation each of them had in the various wings of the house, on some level Landry understood Carson’s need to whisper.

Their cousin, Noah, had been a part of their lives forever. He was just...there. A part of their family. A part of them. Now they all had doubts and reservations since Carson’s fiancée, Georgia, asked the one question none of them had ever known to ask.

Was it possible their cousin, Noah Scott, was really their father’s missing son, Jackson Adair?

Georgia had seen an old photo years before of her stepmother’s father. The old photo depicted a young man, handsome and full of life.

And a shocking genetic mirror of Noah.

Ruby, her stepmother, had lost her baby son, then subsequently her husband. Did they dare get her hopes up that Jackson might have been nearby all these years?

“Please tell me you understand why we need Derek?”

“Of course I do.”

“Is that a ‘Carson, I understand and will cooperate as you’ve asked’ sort of yes?”

She shoved at his shoulder, the motion doing little to move him. “Yes, it is.”

“Good. I’ve already briefed him. You can give him proper cover in the morning when he begins his investigation.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue to argue and let him know she and Derek were going into this as equal partners, investigating together, but she held back. She knew Derek hadn’t been all that pleased with her request, and she knew damn well her brother wouldn’t be, either.

So she held her tongue and smiled. “Of course I will.”

Carson lifted up on an elbow to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before rolling toward the edge of the bed. Despite his injury, he moved off the mattress and got to his feet in one swift motion.

“And Landry?”

“Yes.”

His hand snaked out before she realized its destination and dragged the thick hardcover out from where she’d hidden it. “Go easy on him. He’s one of the good guys.”

Carson dropped the hardcover on top of the blankets where it bounced with a hard thud, his grin broad and cocky as his hands went to his hips.

That smile brought back memories of their youth, roaming Adair Acres and playing through the endless groves of citrus trees. He’d often fancied himself Peter Pan, his hands perched at his waist as he issued orders for how to fight pirates or manage their skyward flight to Neverland.

There had been a time when Landry thought she’d never see that smile again. And now that it was back, she could only be grateful.

She might not like her immediate circumstances.

But she was glad to have her brother back.

* * *

Derek kept his gaze on the pool from his guest-room window, Landry’s morning swim as captivating from a distance as it had been up close and personal the day before.

He hadn’t intended to be a pervert—and as a lawman who spent his life in pursuit of those who lived up to the moniker, he knew he wasn’t—but for the life of him he couldn’t turn away from the window.

She was magnificent. Her long body was a vision, the product of discipline and obvious hard work. But it was her mind and the emotions that lurked behind her expressive blue eyes that had him even more fascinated.

He’d replayed the day before over and over, tossing into the early hours of the morning as images of Landry Adair had floated through his sleep-deprived brain.

And for the first time in months, he’d had company through the long night with a memory that didn’t end in blood.

With one final glance out the window, Derek pulled himself together and headed for the stables. He knew he’d made a promise to Landry—they’d handle the investigation as partners—but if the suspicions about her cousin were right, her presence would only hinder the investigation.

He slid his wallet in his back pocket, his fingers bereft when a badge didn’t follow, and fought the daily swell of battered pride and bruised ego.

He was a federal agent. He knew how to do his job, and he was good at it.

Damn good.

He navigated the large house, the back stairwell into the kitchen the closest to his bedroom. The scent of coffee and fresh muffins assailed him as he hit the bottom step, and he caught a shy smile from the head cook as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.”

“Derek, please, Kathleen. How are you this morning?”

The woman blushed, her obvious surprise that he’d remembered her name highlighting her already-rosy cheeks with a warm blush. “Fine. Fine. I hope you slept well.”

“Excellent.” The lie tripped off his tongue, and he felt no remorse. To tell the truth would only mar the moment.

“Can I fix you a plate?”

“I’d love to, but I actually wanted to get down to the stables for an early ride. Might I swing a to-go mug of coffee from you?”

The woman blushed once more before quickly busying herself with his request. He used the moment to watch the comings and goings in the large, bustling kitchen. Two additional cooks managed at stations along the wall while a series of maids streamed in and out in the few moments he stood there.

An overall impression of efficiency and expertise pervaded the room, and he marveled at the fact that the home ran without the obvious oversight of the lady of the manor.

Interesting.

Patsy Adair had a reputation for ruling her domain with an iron fist, and the promise of that rule must have extended even to times when she was away.

Was that same personality capable of murder? And the cold-blooded killing of her husband, no less?

While he felt obligated to review every angle, something about it didn’t play for him. Why would a woman so determined to keep her place in society risk that place over something as pointless as murder?

Especially cold-blooded, calculated murder in her husband’s office.

The power Patsy Adair wielded came from the powerful man she’d married. Killing Reginald would have been tantamount to killing the golden goose.

Kathleen bustled back with his coffee and a wrapped muffin still hot underneath its napkin.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I saw you eyeing them yesterday with Miss Landry. I try to tempt her with them every day, but that girl’s willpower is greater than my muffins. Please don’t break my heart and tell me you can refuse them, too?”

The rich scents of vanilla and blueberry wafted up from the warm muffin in his hand, and Derek shook his head. “No, ma’am. In fact, I was hoping to steal one from you, so getting it fresh out of the oven is an extra treat.”

“You enjoy.”

Derek took a moment to assess his chances with the sweet woman and decided to go for broke. “Sad things often make people lose their appetite. Landry will come around.”

Kathleen shook her head, the light vanishing from her gaze. “I hope so. There’s too much sadness here. I left after the holidays to help my sister and her family in Ireland. My niece got married and we made it a family reunion. They were happy times. Then I come back here to nothing but grief and pain.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset.” The woman dashed at her eyes. “I’m angry. Someone attacks Mr. Adair and leaves him for dead. Then they come after the family. It’s not right.”

Derek laid a gentle hand on her arm. “The family will get answers and things will be right again.”

“I hope you’re right.” She blushed once more, then pasted on another smile before she sent him on the way. Derek couldn’t help noticing the smile wasn’t quite as bright as when she’d handed over the muffin.

He maintained an easy stride past one of the property’s orange groves on his way to the stables. It was only when Derek got closer and saw the man he was looking for exercising a horse in a large paddock that the tension he’d lived with for the past six months returned to his shoulders and stiffened his spine.

If what Carson Adair suspected was true, Noah Scott had been living a lie.

And Derek knew it was his job to uncover the truth.

Chapter 3

Derek waited until Noah was at a stopping point before lifting his coffee mug in a morning salute. “Hello!”

He willed the tension from his body as man and horse swung his direction. The last thing he needed to do was alert Noah he wasn’t who he claimed to be. And if the horse got spooked by the subtle tension, Derek could kiss his cover goodbye.

Noah’s comfortable smile remained in place before he directed his mount toward the edge of the paddock. “What can I do for you?”

Derek introduced himself, before adding, “I’m a good friend of Landry’s.”

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend.” Noah’s smile was friendly and his tone that of an easygoing cowboy. “It was all the kitchen could talk about this morning when I stopped in for coffee.”

A strange sensation—like thousands of bees stinging his face—worked its way across Derek’s cheeks and then on down his neck before he ignored it, repressing any sense of embarrassment. “People like to gossip.”

“That they do. And I can tell you it’s the national pastime here at Adair Acres.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Derek reviewed his approach in his mind, working through the script he’d planned through the long hours of the night. “Landry said I could come down and ride any of the horses. Said to confirm with you who’s feeling well and up for a new rider.”

Noah’s jovial grin grew even broader. “That’s her polite way of saying I needed to pick who I want you to ride and also make sure you don’t get a crack at Pete.”

“Who’s Pete?”

“Landry’s beloved thoroughbred. Paperwork says he’s come down through Seattle Slew’s line.”

Derek heard the words, even if it took his brain a few minutes to catch up.

Landry Adair had a horse from the same line as a Triple Crown winner? And she selfishly kept him to herself and gave him an ordinary name like Pete?

Maintaining the loose-limbed personality and devil-may-care attitude of an aimless playboy, he smiled and nodded. “I guess I’ll have to work on her, then.”

“Let me know how that goes. My cousin’s not easily swayed.”

Cousin. Or half sister.

Without even knowing it, Noah gave him an entrée to discuss the real reason he was here. “You’re cousins? Landry didn’t mention it.”

“Sure are. My mom and her dad are sister and brother.”

“So you grew up together?” Derek added a smile he hoped conveyed a dreamy, besotted quality. “I bet she was a cute kid.”

“If all knees and elbows are cute, with a side of bossy territorialism, then yeah,” Noah said. “There’s a little more than ten years between us so I missed her later years. The stories are legendary of her terrorizing the grooms until they finally put her up on her father’s favorite horse.”

“Another thoroughbred?”

“Yep. Shared the same sire with Pete.”

“Damn.” Derek shook his head and tried to imagine a young girl of no more than eight or nine up on a horse designed for speed and endurance, descended from a horse who had those traits in spades. “Where the hell were her parents?”

“Around.” Noah said nothing more, and Derek knew he needed to pull back. Whatever loyalties were there were embedded deep, forged over a lifetime. He needed to go slowly.

“She’s quite a woman. Clearly that started at a young age.”

“That it did. Look. Give me a minute to get Lucky Strike taken care of and I’ll get you settled.”

Noah dismounted and walked the regal Lucky Strike toward a groom waiting at the edge of the corral. Derek took the moment to observe the exchange, the groom’s respect more than evident in the set of his shoulders and the ready smile at whatever joke Noah told.

In moments the man was back, directing Derek toward a long barn equipped with the latest in technology. Electronic signs lit up the walls, detailing feeding schedules, medicine needs, upcoming vet and farrier visits, and general comments around exercise and well-being. The horses he passed in each stall were impeccably groomed and glowed with good health.

Noah’s doing?

“You manage this part of the estate?”

“In a roundabout way. I manage most of the agriculture on Adair Acres. But the horses are my passion. So this is where I spend most of my free time.”

Derek hadn’t been on a horse in years, and he was surprised to find himself anticipating the experience like a kid waiting for Christmas.

“Why don’t you take San Diego Sunrise out? Diego needs some time in a big way.” Noah pointed toward a horse two stalls down from where they stood. The large bay was a deep brown, the color of the richest dark chocolate.

“Anywhere on the property you’d prefer we don’t go?”

“Nah. Enjoy the morning and give him his head for a bit if you will. He hasn’t been out for a while. And be sure to give him some time in the alfalfa pasture down on the south edge of the property.”

Derek patted Diego’s nose, smiling when the horse nudged his palm. “He wants me to butter you up.”

“A few well-placed words never hurt, but a trip to his favorite pasture and Diego here will be yours for life.”

They worked in tandem, quickly saddling the horse, before Derek pushed his last comment of the morning. “Thanks for the help. This is a beautiful place. It’ll be great to see it up close and personal.”

“There’s something special about Adair Acres. I felt it the first time I came here.”

The specific word choice caught Derek’s attention, and he cycled quickly through the details Carson had provided in advance. He knew what the family believed about Noah’s parentage, but if the man hadn’t even been in the States, how could he be the missing Adair heir?

“First time? Haven’t you come here your whole life?”

“Nah.” Noah added a few notes to Diego’s stall via a keyboard. He quickly tapped his way through several screens before turning back toward Derek. “I lived in Europe as a kid. Didn’t get here until I was about eight. But I fell in love with this place and haven’t looked back.”

Was he purposely kept away from the ranch and his real family by his mother? Or was he truly the biological son of Emmaline Adair Scott, Reginald’s widowed sister?

Derek reflected on the implications as he maneuvered Diego out of the barn. Noah Scott seemed like a decent, hardworking, stand-up sort of guy.

And whatever love or sense of belonging he felt at Adair Acres was at risk of breaking into a million shattered pieces.

* * *

Mark Goodnight glanced at the various materials laid out on his desk and calculated how much he’d need to use to tip Winchester off. He’d already cut out enough letters from magazine covers and newspaper headlines to make a pretty good demand note. All that was left was to glue it together and then mail the note to Winchester at the FBI office.

So damn easy.

It’d be even easier if he could just sneak the materials into the lab and run a few tests on his own, fudging results where he needed to, but a guy couldn’t have everything.

Besides, he didn’t need everything. He just needed Sarah. And in a few more weeks, he’d have her. He’d already been the world’s greatest friend, meeting her every afternoon for coffee and letting her pour her heart out about Derek. How he wasn’t there for her. How he made the job his life. And how he couldn’t get the disappearance of one small girl out of his head.

What else could she do but leave him?

Mark crooned out loud, his whispered chorus of “of course you needed to leave” a litany that spilled from his lips as he unscrewed the cap on a bottle of rubber cement.

And when he solved the case of the missing Rena, Derek’s mania would finally be put to rest.

Winchester hadn’t been trying to help the girl.

He’d been obsessively destroying her.

And Mark would deliver the proof that put Derek Winchester far away from Sarah. And his job. And everything else he held dear.

* * *

Landry let Pete move at his own pace, the fresh morning air whipping past both of them as the thoroughbred thundered over the lush fields of Adair Acres.

Fool. Liar. And freaking Lone Ranger wannabe.

She’d made a deal with Derek Winchester, and a mere twenty-four hours later he’d already disregarded their agreement.

Toad.

Pete’s powerful body moved and shifted underneath her, sinewy grace and unleashed speed. The ride matched her mood—wild and untamed—and she hoped like hell Derek Winchester had put on a hazmat suit this morning, because she was about to unleash a rain of fire on his too-fine ass.

She caught sight of Derek and Diego, just where Noah had promised they’d be. The horse grazed in his favorite alfalfa pasture and Derek held lightly to his reins, walking beside the horse at a leisurely pace, bridle in hand.

She applied subtle pressure to Pete’s back and he slowed instantly, the hard race over the grounds calming to a swift gallop. His ears perked up and she could have sworn she felt him begin to prance beneath her as he realized their destination.

Every resident of the Adair Acres barn loved the rich field that lay at the south end of the property. Her father had planted it for the thoroughbred he loved—Pete’s brother—and it had become a sort of tradition on the property.

She slowed Pete down even more as they grew closer before bringing him to a halt a few yards from Diego and his traitorous rider.

“Good morning.”

“Save it.” She dismounted and held up her free hand. “I do not want to hear it.”

“Isn’t exercise supposed to make you less grumpy? You swam God knows how many laps this morning and just rode hell for leather over the grounds. Where are all your endorphins?”

Whatever she’d been about to say sputtered to a halt at the jovial fellow who stared at her. Where was the pensive bodyguard? Or the FBI agent with hidden, troubled depths? Or even the frustrated playboy wannabe who had to demonstrate a decided lack of ambition to the governor?

She’d seen all those personas yesterday, and wondered how they’d given way to the happy fellow standing in the middle of an alfalfa patch.

“I have plenty of endorphins.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She felt Pete’s tug on his reins and stepped back, unwilling to tease him so close to his treat. She made quick work of removing his bridle, leaving only his halter so he could graze properly.

Or gorge, if he had his way.

As soon as she had him situated, she turned back to Derek. “We made a deal yesterday. I’d do this with you if we were equal partners. And first thing this morning you run away when you knew I wouldn’t be looking to come talk to Noah.”

“Yes, I did.”

She was so taken aback by his words she simply stood there. Did he really think she’d calm down in the face of his honesty?

“Look, Landry. What would it look like if you were with me the first time I tried to get to know the guy?”

“It would look like I was introducing my supposed new boyfriend to my cousin.”

“And it would have been polite chitchat before he turned tail and ran to avoid being in the company of the new lovers, in the throes of new, unbridled passion.”

She swallowed hard at the image he painted, her mind quickly filling in the heated detail of what unbridled passion actually looked like.

And felt like.

Shaking off the bold images, she forced as wry a tone as she could muster into her voice. “Right. Because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Hey. You said it.”

The sheer lunacy of their conversation struck her at the same moment she registered his shockingly huge sex appeal. A worn gray T-shirt stretched over his shoulders and chest, molded to the perfection of his body. Faded jeans followed as she worked her gaze down his body, covering his slim hips and long, long legs.

The man was a vision, and she was increasingly helpless to ignore that fact.

She’d been around the block, and hadn’t lived a completely chaste life in her first twenty-six years. She wasn’t promiscuous, but she wasn’t innocent, either.

And no man she’d ever met made her as aware as Derek Winchester.

Energy flowed between them, swift as a raging river, as they stood there in the middle of the pasture. Pete tugged on his lead, pulling her back to the fact that more than a thousand pounds of horse stood behind her.

“Want me to take him?”

“No.” She took a step back, the lead once again going slack in her hands. “I’ve got him. Focus on Diego. He’s liable to race off if you don’t keep watch.”

“Right. Because he’s found the equine equivalent of heaven and he’s going to race off without getting his fill and then some.”

“Just—” She broke off, not sure of what to say. The self-righteous anger that had carried her across the grounds faded in the reality of his words. Her presence would have stood in the way of Derek’s initial introduction to Noah.

But it still stung.

She was more than everyone’s expectations of her. And for some strange reason she’d thought Derek Winchester had understood that.

Derek moved closer, letting the length of Diego’s lead out as he moved. “This field has some pretty fantastic properties for humans, too.”

“Oh?”

He took another step closer, one hand closing over her hip while the other held the full extension of Diego’s lead. “I’d say it’s pretty amazing, actually.”

“It’s just a grazing pasture.”

“No. It’s more than that.”

She tried to keep up, but the heat of his body was wreaking havoc on her ability to form a coherent thought. “More? I don’t think so.”

“It’s a pasture with Landry Adair standing smack in the middle of it.” That lone hand on her waist pulled her until she was flush with his body. The hard lines of his chest pressed against the sensitive curves of her breasts, and a hard tug pooled low in her belly.

“And if I play my cards right, she might even kiss me.”

A question formed on her lips, then vanished as his mouth came down over hers and answered it.

Chapter 4

Landry felt the rigid boundaries of her self-control slipping as Derek’s arms wrapped tight around her. Long, luscious moments spun out, one more glorious than the next, as his mouth plundered hers, his hand drifting over her spine until it settled low on her back.

She leaned into the kiss—and the hard man who held her as though she was something precious—and let herself go in the moment.

The long months of fear and worry faded away in the press of a hard male body against hers. The featherlight aromas of citrus and alfalfa mixed with the more potent scents of sweat and leather, all imprinting themselves on her senses.

Life.

It was the one word that kept running through her mind as she leaned into Derek, as taken with the kiss as he was.

This was life.

Raw and needy. Necessary, even.

She vaguely registered Pete’s lead in her palm before using her other hand to settle low on Derek’s hip. Thick muscles bunched under her fingertips, proof the body she’d sensed lay under his clothes was as taut and well honed as it appeared.

A smile worked its way to her lips, vanishing the moment he reached out with his teeth, drawing the sensitive skin into his mouth. Hot need swirled through her, settling itself low in her stomach, tightening the muscles a few inches below.

The hand at his hips fisted in the material of his T-shirt, and she was about to drag a handful over his stomach to get to the warm skin beneath when his strong hand snapped to her shoulder.

His movements were firm—final—as the moment jolted to a harsh stop and the sensual exploration vanished as if it had never been.

Their connection lost, Landry could only stare up into the dark orbs of his eyes. She didn’t miss how his pupils had gone wide with need and arousal, despite the bright sun that shone down on them both.

“That was—” He broke off.

At the increasing evidence of his embarrassment, she took a step back, desperate to get away from the heat that branded her as it shimmered off his body. With long years of practice, she swirled the anger that rose up inside her like a protective shield, cloaking herself from hurt.

“What’s the matter, Ace? Cat got your tongue?”

His mouth snapped closed, whatever he was about to say vanishing at her careless tone.

She should have kept quiet. Landry knew she’d regret it later, even as the words spilled forth, but a sad recklessness gripped her with iron claws. With a soft pat on his shoulders, she shot him one of her trademark carefree smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s obvious we can put on a good show for anyone watching. Our fake relationship should be a breeze.”

Without waiting for a response, she tightened Pete’s lead in her hand and headed for the stables.

* * *

His first year in the Secret Service, Derek and his team had faced a bomb threat at a hotel while on protection detail. Despite working their way through a series of practiced maneuvers as they moved the vice president to safety, he’d never forgotten the sheer rush of adrenaline and the absolute lack of knowledge of what the next several minutes would bring.

Annihilation or safety.

The question had hovered through his mind as they escorted the VP down several long corridors toward her waiting car, a phalanx of men surrounding her in unified timing.

They’d had one goal, one mission.

And they’d executed that mission with flawless grace, their only concern the woman in their protection.

Images of that day still remained, emblazoned on his memories with detailed precision. He’d understood his job before then. He’d known what he’d signed up for and what it meant to lay down his life for another. But until that day, with Kate Adair wrapped in a tight cocoon of protection, he hadn’t understood what that vow truly meant.

While Derek knew a kiss in a meadow on a bright spring morning couldn’t—and shouldn’t—qualify as equally dangerous, he’d be damned if the same thought didn’t keep spinning through his mind as he crossed the sweeping property of Adair Acres.

Annihilation or safety.

Although the vice president was no longer his responsibility, her niece was, and Derek recognized the trust Kate had placed in him. Which meant he had no business dragging said responsibility in for a mind-blowing kiss in broad daylight, all while his body screamed with the unfulfilled need to do so much more.

He slipped in the back door of the house, Landry’s parting words echoing in his ears.

Our fake relationship should be a breeze.

Yeah. Right.

The sound of voices rose up from the direction of the dining room, Landry’s huskier tones mixed with the deeper baritone of her brother. Although Derek sensed the conversation was private from the muted undertones, he was in the middle of whatever was happening here, whether Landry liked it or not. With a resigned sigh, he headed for the entry to the long room, prepared to join in the melee.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Carson.” Her direct words spilled into the hallway. “I said I’d go along with it and I am.”

“By stomping around here like the spoiled princess of the manor?”

“Oh come now, big brother. I’m simply living up to expectations. You know that as well as I do.”

Derek let out a short, discreet cough to announce his presence, and both turned as he walked into the room. Carson and Landry stood close, their similarities as siblings more than evident in their fair coloring.

But it was the matched battle stances that truly marked them as siblings, warriors down to their core.

Whatever he might have been, Reginald Adair had a reputation for being ruthless in going after what he wanted. Stubborn to a fault, he didn’t take no for an answer, nor did he back down. It was a trait his children had apparently inherited in spades.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Would it matter if I said yes?” The quick words snapped at him with the force of a striking cobra. Despite their earlier kiss and his subsequent fumbling, he couldn’t quite shake the smile at the fierce expression that only served to heighten the sensuality of those bee-stung lips.

Derek shrugged. “Probably not.”

Her bright blue eyes narrowed and Derek saw the light of battle as clearly as if she’d hollered “Charge!”

“Well, then. Since you’re not leaving, perhaps you can explain to my brother why you felt the need to introduce yourself to Noah this morning, despite our explicit agreement that we’d manage this little deception together.”

“I thought we already worked that out.”

“Do I look like we worked it out?”

You look like a woman who’s been loved.

The thought gripped him so tightly he was amazed the words didn’t actually leak from his lips. Color still rode high on Landry’s cheeks, and the faint mark of his morning stubble edged her gorgeous lips in stubborn lines of pink like a brand.

His brand.

“Why don’t I get going and leave you two to figure this out?” Carson edged away from his sister, his gaze wary.

“Some ally you are. You’re a traitor to the cause.”

“Yep.” Carson smiled for the first time since Derek had entered the room, then added a wink for good measure. “See you later.”

Landry’s moue of disgust did nothing to hide the sultry sweep of her lips, and she turned on a very fine heel to refill her coffee mug.

“I didn’t talk to Noah on my own to go against your wishes. I thought I made that clear earlier.”

“You did.”

Something faint drifted across the gorgeous blue of her eyes. If he hadn’t been searching her face so hard, he’d likely have missed it. “You think I was wrong for taking the opportunity?”

“No.”

“Then why the attitude?”

Her gaze drifted around the opulent room before she settled her focus back on him. “Noah’s my cousin. My family. And he has no idea what we all suspect.”

Landry’s words stopped him and the momentary amusement he’d felt at her battle stance faded. He knew what it was to ruin someone’s life with the truth. Knew even better what it was to have that truth thrust upon you without warning.

Despite that knowledge—or perhaps in spite of it—he pressed his point. “Noah can’t know. Not yet.”

“Why not? If we ask him, he might be able to assuage our fears. Might be able to give us answers to our questions.”

Derek understood her deep desire to keep the truth at bay. Like a hovering specter that turned warm memories cold and settled fear deep in the bone, their suspicions would change the course of Noah Scott’s life if they were proven true.

“Or we’ll possibly create more questions. What if he tips his mother off before we have a chance to properly investigate and make our case?”

The mention of Noah’s mother, Emmaline, did the trick. Landry’s open, almost pleading gaze faded, replaced with stoic resolve. “You think she’s guilty?”

“I think we need to evaluate on our own before making suppositions or rushing to judgment.”

Her long, slender fingers fisted at her sides. “And you haven’t?”

“An investigation based on facts isn’t judgment. It’s what I do. What I know how to do. If you can’t accept that, then maybe my initial thought to work this alone was a better idea.”

“Threats, Derek?”

A retort rose up but he held it back, the urge to defend himself fading in memory of the clear hurt in her eyes when she leaped off her horse to confront him earlier.

She had been hurt. While he wouldn’t have done anything differently, even if given the chance, he wasn’t immune to the disappointment he’d seen in the set of her slim shoulders.

Landry Adair was used to being let down. He wasn’t sure how he knew that with such bone-deep certainty, but he did. And he’d be damned if he wanted to be yet another person who did the same.

“I don’t make threats. And I’m not apologizing again. But now that I’ve met Noah on my own terms, I have no interest in continuing to work this on my own.”

“Oh.” The admission was enough to knock the wind from her arguments, and Landry shot him a stoic gaze over her shoulder before picking up a delicate pot of creamer on the sideboard. The dollop she dropped in her cup barely colored the black coffee, and an image of a woman in fierce control of herself struck him with swift fists.

No muffin the day before over breakfast. A spot of cream that was so small as to be invisible. And a fierce battle of wills over her family that she was obviously desperate to win.

Perhaps he’d misjudged the woman who appeared to have everything.

From his vantage point, he was beginning to wonder if she had nothing.

* * *

Landry dropped her purse in the backseat of her SUV before she reached for the driver’s door. Derek had kept a low profile through the rest of the morning, simply asking her to be ready to take off at lunchtime.

She’d wanted to ask where they were going, but sheer stubborn pride had kept her mouth closed. As a result, she had no idea if the light sweater set and cream-colored slacks were appropriate for their outing or not.

Especially when Derek Winchester sauntered out of the house in another one of his T-shirts—black this time—and low-slung jeans. That same heavy throb from their morning in the alfalfa pasture gripped her stomach and she fought it back, slipping her dark sunglasses quickly over her eyes.

She wouldn’t let him see the irrepressible response of her body, which no doubt filled her gaze with ripe appreciation.

And she’d be damned if she worried she was overdressed for whatever outing the infuriating man had planned that he couldn’t bother to share with her.

Partners.

The word stuck bitterly in her throat as she climbed into the car.

They were no more partners than her parents had been. Those two loveless souls who’d drifted over Adair Acres, perfectly content to lead vastly separate lives. Reginald and Patsy had known how to turn on the charm and lay it on thick when the social situation warranted it, but the rest of the time they seemed equally happy to ignore each other.

Functional. Cold. And devoid of any sense of passion or need or that bone-deep craving that bonded lovers together.

Was she destined for the same?

Images of her morning kiss with Derek flooded her mind’s eye, the thought so vivid she could once again taste him on her tongue. Masculine, with a hint of something smoky like whiskey, tinged with dark coffee overtones. She fought the shiver that gripped her and tightened her hands on the wheel.

Derek climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door, oblivious to her discomfort. Damn man.

The walls of the spacious SUV grew tight as his scent surrounded her once more. She’d accepted the feeling of confinement the day before because her sports car was so small, hence the decision to take her boat of an SUV for today’s little errand.

So how did he manage to eat up all the space anyway?

Ignoring the zing that lit up her nerve endings, she turned toward him and kept her gaze somewhere around his ear. “Where to?”

“Los Angeles. To my office.”

“We’re going to the FBI?”

“I want to look into a few things, and it gets us out of the house for a while.” He kept his gaze steady on hers and she fought the urge to look away, reminding herself he couldn’t see through the dark black lenses of her sunglasses.

“Can’t you access your files remotely?”

“I can do it faster and quicker at headquarters. Besides—” He broke off and she caught the sense of something lying just beneath his words.

“Besides what?”

“I want to check in, that’s all. I’ve been out of pocket for a few days and it makes me itchy.”

Landry hit the button for the ignition, the high-end model she drove already registering the key in her purse, and shifted into reverse. Despite herself, she was intrigued. By their outing and by whatever else he wanted to accomplish in LA. “What are you looking for?”

“Birth records, for starters. I want to know when and where Noah was born.”

The reminder that their hunt centered on digging into Noah’s background took some of the wind out of her sails, and Landry couldn’t help but eye the large gate that swung closed behind her car after she pulled out of Adair Acres. Two large As sat at the top of the fence, their swirling script as familiar a sight to her as her own signature.

So why did they suddenly appear so menacing? Like a brand, marking the property and all the secrets that hid in its folds?

She shook off the fanciful notion and kept her eyes on the road. The rolling countryside flew by her windows as she traveled the canyon roads she’d grown up on.

“It’s beautiful country.”

Derek’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, echoing what she already knew to be true about the land she called home. “It is. It’s so vibrant and lush, and no other place smells quite as sweet.”

“You truly love your home.”

Heat crept up her neck at his observation. She did love her home and always had. It was a large part of why she’d never ventured all that far, even if it meant living with the stifling expectations of her family.

She’d thought about New York as a teenager, and later fantasized about a flat in London or Paris. She’d even spent a winter on the French Riviera during a college break. But no matter how blue the water, the Côte d’Azur simply had nothing on her little corner of Southern California.

Several thoughts drifted through her mind as she imagined how she wanted to play Derek’s question, but in the end she simply settled for the truth. “I do.”

“It’s good to belong somewhere.” She risked a glance at his profile as she took the entrance to the freeway, surprised to see a forlorn expression that turned his masculine features craggy.

But when he turned and caught her gaze, she knew without question there was more beneath his words. “It’s good to have roots, Landry.”

“What about wings?”

“Sometimes flying’s overrated.”

His cryptic words smacked of sadness and loss. And as they sank in, the wholly unexpected need to nurture stuck in her chest, tightening her muscles like drawstrings.

She had no right to nurture.

Or question.

Or insert her opinions in whatever had put that haunted look behind his dark, solemn gaze.

They weren’t in a relationship. And despite the strange tug of attraction that had been her constant companion since he stood above the pool staring down at her the day before, she didn’t know Derek Winchester.

But you do know the feel of his lips and the caress of his hands.

She tamped down the traitorous thought as her car flew down the road, the heavy traffic of the city building with each passing mile. No matter how enticing those few moments in his arms, they were the consequence of a power play, nothing more.

A battle of wills between two stubborn people, testing the other to see how far each could push.

They absolutely were not the quiet moments of a couple in the throes of early attraction, barreling down that steep slide into love.

* * *

“At the risk of exposing my deep and abiding love for gritty detective shows, TV really doesn’t do it justice.” Landry looked around the spacious entrance to the FBI office in LA, doing her level best to fight the mix of awe and excitement.

Derek glanced up from where he signed her in as his guest, a lopsided grin turning up one corner of his mouth. “What were you expecting? Lennie Briscoe sitting at a desk at the corner?”

His reference to Jerry Orbach’s character on Law & Order warmed her, adding a surprising sense of fun to their hunt for information on Noah. “Maybe.”

“What else did you imagine?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged before getting into the game. “I guess I thought I might see a crime lord someone nabbed at lunch.”

“Naturally. Because crime lords are a dime a dozen.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m afraid to disappoint, but it looks like we’ve missed today’s crime lord sighting. But I happen to have something even more exciting.”

Derek gestured her toward the elevator off the main entryway.

“More exciting than a parasite who preys on the fine citizens of Los Angeles being brought to justice?”

“Better. I’ve got paperwork. Reams and reams of paperwork.”

“A dream come true.”

The forlorn passenger who’d ridden in her car had vanished, replaced with a man fully in his element. Derek had tossed a black sport jacket over his T-shirt, and the pressed material only emphasized the width of his shoulders. Which she really wouldn’t have noticed—at all—if he hadn’t stopped and turned toward her the moment they paused at the elevators, a broad grin on his face.

“I’m sure it is.”

They stepped through the sliding doors, his gaze growing speculative. “So detective shows, huh? I’d have pegged you as a reality junkie.”

Landry fought a hard snort and simply batted her eyelashes. “You’re lucky we’re in a place crawling with law enforcement professionals. I’m tempted to hurt you for a comment like that.”

“Note to self.” Derek mimed flipping open a detective’s notebook and jotting down a few lines. “No mention of singers, ladies who lunch or pregnant teenagers.”

“Thank you.”

“No. Thank you.” He gestured her toward a large room marked Archives. “I can keep my knowledge of a certain wealthy, home-based executive’s wife with extracurricular activities to myself, guilt free.”

“The FBI follows them?”

“The FBI follows a lot of people.”

Landry maintained a light, breezy air, even as his words struck a discordant note.

The FBI did follow a lot of people. And her aunt had thought her current family situation was bad enough to warrant that sort of scrutiny. She knew Aunt Kate was acting in what she believed was the Adair family’s best interests, but Landry also knew there was more to it.

An outsider—and a highly trained one at that—could see things others would miss, and Kate was canny enough to recognize that distinct benefit.

If she were smart—if they were all smart—they’d do well to remember that simple fact.

Derek laid a hand on her arm, the warmth penetrating the thin sleeve of her sweater. “You all right? You disappeared there for a minute.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m right here.”

His dark gaze sought hers and held it for a moment before he gestured toward the archive room. “After you, then.”

The subfloor hallway was as ruthlessly clean as the lobby, the scents of industrial cleaner and old paper mixing in the thick air. She knew it was silly, but Landry could swear she felt the weight of history pressing in on them as they entered the archive room.

Anxious to will away the oppressive feeling, she sought for humor to diffuse the moment. “You take all your fake girlfriends down here?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

“If an old FBI subbasement seems sexy or creepy.”

She couldn’t hold back the light giggle at his words, but before she could answer him, he pulled her farther into the room. “Come on. There’s a workstation down here that’s not used very much. It’ll give us a chance to sit and hunt around for a while.”

In moments Derek had them logged into a computer terminal, the screen awaiting his search query inputs. He’d shed the jacket for comfort, and her gaze was once again drawn to the powerful body beneath the thin veneer of black cotton. Corded muscles roped his forearms, tapering down to firm, capable hands.

Hands that had held her, caressed her and pulled her against his warm frame.

“Noah’s thirty-seven?”

The question pulled her from her musings before she nodded, her voice tight when she finally spoke. “Yes.”

If Derek heard the distress he ignored it, instead typing in Noah’s name, year of birth and parentage into the query field. Even with all their efforts to lighten the mood, Landry couldn’t quite vanquish the well of sadness as she watched him type her cousin’s name into the search bar.

While their failed kiss had been more the cause of her cool attitude back at the house, she hadn’t lied about Noah. The thought of what they were doing—and the consequences for her cousin—was tough to swallow.

Two months before, her father had been ripped from her life, the cruel hand of death dealt by another. If she and Derek discovered proof that Noah was the missing Adair heir, wouldn’t they be doing the same in reverse?

Ripping him from the only life he’d ever known? And the comfort of an identity he’d lived with since he was an infant.

On a resigned sigh, she admitted to herself that wishing the truth away—or worse, attempting to hide it—wasn’t the answer, either. “You need to add Ruby to your next search string.”

“Your father’s first wife?”

“Yes. Ruby Townsend Mason.”

“Her daughter, Georgia, is Carson’s fiancée, right?”

“Georgia’s her stepdaughter, but they might as well be related by blood. The two of them are incredibly close.”

Again, the pressure of the past few months weighed on her as she thought about the woman who’d come into her brother’s life, brightening his entire world and helping to ease the pain of wartime that had scarred him, both physically and emotionally. Georgia was an incredible person, and she’d been raised with an abundance of love and caring. Ruby Mason might not be her biological mother, but she was Georgia’s mother in all the ways that mattered.

It was humbling to contrast the relationship to the one she shared with her own mother. As they always did, thoughts of Patsy Adair managed to make her feel sad and stifled, all at the same time.

“I’ll include Ruby’s information next.” Derek’s voice broke into her thoughts as he set up another query while the first was running in the background. “It’s interesting that it was Georgia who made the connection about Noah.”

“She saw an old picture of Ruby’s father and was shocked by how much the man resembled Noah.”

“Connections.” He muttered the word as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Strong. Efficient. Competent.

An entirely unexpected flutter settled beneath her skin and Landry tried to shake off the strange well of attraction. Seriously? When did a man sitting at a computer terminal become sexy?

When he wore a black T-shirt and low-slung jeans like Derek Winchester, that’s when.

Ignoring the sexual buzz—especially in light of the fact that Derek seemed to be oblivious to one, his gaze focused on the computer screen—Landry’s thoughts returned to Georgia. She knew the suspicions about Noah had been weighing heavily on Georgia’s mind.

Was Noah really Jackson?

And could it even be possible he’d been a part of their family this entire time?

Georgia hadn’t wanted to get Ruby’s hopes up, so instead of reveling in the celebration of her engagement to Carson, the woman was busy keeping secrets from her stepmother.

Landry fought back a small sigh at the realization that yet another layer of deception and mystery permeated her life and the lives of those she loved.

It was further proof that the grounds of Adair Acres held as many old secrets as new ones.

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