License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel) (3 page)

“Everything,” he said. “But here’s not the place. Trust me when I tell you that you have too many enemies here. Far too many enemies. You’ve stirred up trouble, boy. In more quarters than you know.” He shook off Rock’s hand and led him away from the hotel, down the street, and into a shadowy back alley.

Rock had to be crazy, certifiable to follow this guy. But he did. It was a balmy evening. A nice night for a walk if you weren’t out with a crazy. Finally, his contact stopped in the shadows upwind from a garbage Dumpster and leaned casually against a brick wall, studying Rock.

The guy wore an expensive suit. Rock wouldn’t have touched a thing in that alley, let alone risk staining or snagging his suit. But his contact wasn’t so finicky.

It was warm, almost too warm for the hoodie Rock wore. But he didn’t take it off. And he didn’t lean against the wall, either. “What do you know about Lani?”

“Direct and to the point. I like that.” As the guy smiled, his teeth gleamed white in the shadows. “But it’s generally considered polite to make introductions first, before delving into business.” He stuck out his hand, offering to shake. “Emmett Nelson, chief of National Clandestine Services. Recently appointed head of domestic spying for the top-secret antiterrorist task force. You can call me Emmett or Chief. Or Mr. Nelson, if you prefer. Pleased to meet you.”

When Rock hesitated, Nelson laughed.

“Don’t trust me?” Emmett said. “Afraid I have something lethal up my sleeve?”

Rock’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve never heard of National Clandestine Services.”

Nelson sighed. “What? Never heard of the spying arm of the Central Intelligence Agency?”

“CIA? What the hell?” Rock didn’t trust him, but he shook Nelson’s hand to humor him. Nelson had a firm, confident, calloused grip, the grip of a man who knew how to take care of himself, and who fired a gun often.

“Yeah, I know,” Nelson said, releasing Rock’s hand. “Sad how many Americans don’t know the official title of the spying branch of the Agency. Too many people don’t realize the Agency is made up of many divisions, most of them desk jobs, analysts, and eggheads. The spying part is just the most fun.” His eyes twinkled. “I have the best job in the world.”

Rock shook his head, still wondering whether to believe this guy with his spy complex, or brush him off as a loony. He decided to run with it a while. “What does the CIA know about Lani? Why are
you
involved, Em?” It was hard to keep the scoff out of his voice. If this guy wanted to play James Bond’s boss M, Rock would go with it.

With a movement so quick, Rock didn’t see it coming, Nelson’s hand shot out and grabbed Rock by the throat, squeezing his larynx in a crushing way that only a professional thug would know. “No one calls me Em unless I invite them to, got that, showman?” Nelson locked eyes with him, his gaze decidedly unfriendly.

Shit! This guy is crazy
and
dangerous.

Rock considered fighting back, but he needed Emmett. For the moment. He nodded.

Nelson grinned and let go. “Good, now that we have that straight, I could ask you the same question.”

Rock rubbed his throat, hoping Nelson hadn’t damaged his vocal cords. They were insured with Lloyd’s of London for their hypnotic quality along with his mesmerizing eyes. But still, what was a magician without his commanding voice? How could Rock perform magic without uttering the magic words,
abracadabra!
Not that he’d ever really said abracadabra since he was about ten. “Me?” The word came out as more of a croak than anything. Rock cleared his throat.

Emmett stared at him without pity. “Yes, you! Why were you involved with Lani? What business did you have marrying one of my spies behind my back?”

Spies?
Rock’s senses reeled.
Lani, a spy?
And yet, it made a warped kind of sense. He stared at Nelson, trying not to gape. “Lani’s a spy? That’s ridiculous.”

Nelson ignored him. “Everyone in the biz knows my agents don’t marry without my blessing.” He grinned, evilly. “Which I deny in almost every case. I like my agents to remain single. So many fewer complications and less baggage that way. Spouses are liabilities, security lapses and blackmail opportunities waiting to happen. My people know that when they sign on.

“Married people, especially women, want children”—he rolled his eyes—”don’t even get me started on the dangers of spies with children.”

Was it Rock’s imagination, or did Nelson hiss the word
children
? Speechless, he stared at Nelson as if he were crazy.

“What? Do you want proof, magician? A skeptic, are you?” Nelson shook his head again. “Need to see a badge or something?” He paused, studying Rock. “Sorry to disappoint. Secret agents don’t carry badges. They tend to give us away.”

“Why
should
I believe you?”

Nelson crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed as he watched Rock. “Because if you don’t, you’ll end up dead. Very soon, I suspect.”

Rock took a step back. He should run the hell out of here.

Nelson’s laugh stopped him. “Oh, not by me. I don’t want to kill you. But our enemies do.”

“Enemies? I don’t have any enemies, other than the nuts who want to steal my tricks.” Rock squinted at him, wishing, not for the first time, that he really did have psychic powers. Nelson looked deadly serious and suddenly not at all crazy.

“But our country does and you’ve attracted their attention.” Nelson paused. “The way I see it,” he said, “without my help, you’ll be dead within the week. Possibly tortured in the process.” Nelson shrugged. “You can never predict what those RIOT bastards will do. Or…”

Speaking of showmen, this guy was an ace. His pause was pure dramatic effect.

Rock broke first. “Or, what, spook? And who the hell, or what, is RIOT?”

Nelson laughed softly. “Impatient again. Should you accept my offer, all will be revealed in due time.” He shook his head as if amused. He seemed easily amused.

“Or we help each other out, magic man. Turns out, the Agency and I are in need of a talented magician. We rarely recruit from the magical realm. The last one was Mulholland in the fifties and the director got all kinds of grief for that.

“In the seventies, Congress and the press accused the Agency of using too many showboaty shenanigans. That failed assassination incident with Fidel Castro and the exploding cigar was unfortunate, but you have to admit it was creative. Too bad it put the final nail in magic’s coffin.” His eyes were devilish. “Richard Helms, the director at the time, ordered all copies of Mulholland’s classified magic manual destroyed. More’s the pity.”

For an instant, Rock wondered if the Agency really had given up on magic in the intervening years. Nelson’s tone left room for doubt.

“But, you know,” Nelson continued, “our R and D came up with some exceptionally clever devices because of Mulholland’s input. The Agency learned more about escapology, misdirection, change blindness, and creating cognitive illusions than most people can imagine.

“Saved our butts more than once, I can tell you. And then of course, there was the unfortunate incident where one of the manuals was discovered still in existence and published a few years back.

“And now”—Nelson waved his hands in an all-encompassing gesture—“we find we have need of magic again. Which brings me to you and the proposition I have for you. You have skills we need, my boy. And we have something you desperately want—your wife.”

Without thinking, Rock made a fist and took a step toward Nelson.
The bastard has Lani.

“Step down and stop looking at me like that,” Nelson said. He shrugged again. “She’s not my prisoner. As I said, she’s my agent.

“And, you, Rock Powers, crave excitement and challenge. It’s a match made in heaven.”

Rock stared at him in disbelief.
The CIA wants to recruit me?

This conversation kept taking one bizarre turn after another.

“I see you still don’t believe me. I guess it’s not every day the layman runs into a spy.” Nelson laughed. He looked as if he was having the time of his life at Rock’s expense. “Or maybe it is. Maybe you entertain spies unaware all the time. But seeing that you need proof…”

With a flourish, he produced a document out of thin air. He caught Rock unaware. He didn’t see how Nelson did it, but he was good. Must have had it up his sleeve the whole time.

Nelson held the document out for him. Rock snatched it from his hand and scanned it. He swallowed hard when he saw Lani’s handwriting and signature at the bottom, next to his own. Although her last name was different. He’d been too drunk and in love to notice before, but she’d signed her name Lani Silkwater, rather than Lani Torres, as he’d known her. He’d had no idea Torres was her stage name.

Rock’s heart crashed into his stomach. The commemorative certificate of marriage he and Lani had signed after the ceremony trembled in his hand. “How did you get my original certificate of marriage?”

It had been missing since the night Lani disappeared, and was obviously authentic, down to the tiny smudge of Lani’s lipstick in the corner.

“Lani took it with her when she left. Hid it in her shoe.”

Rock attacked Nelson, grabbing him by the lapel of his suit. “Where’s Lani?”

Nelson shook his head. There was no fear in his eyes as he stared Rock down. In fact, he somehow managed to look both lethal and amused at the same time.

“Not until we have a deal, Rock. Surely you can see that if I give you that intel, I lose my tactical advantage. A good negotiator never tips his hand.”

Rock released him and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was even considering Nelson’s bizarre offer. “How would this work? Will I have to train at the Farm? Would I have to give up my show? I’m on hiatus now, but I’ll be back on stage in a few months.”

I’ll never give up my show. Not even for Lani.

“No, we’d never ask you to give up your show. And yes, we’ll give you some training, but not at the Farm. Nothing about your involvement is
official,
you understand.” Nelson paused. “But let me be clear about this, once you accept my offer, there’s no going back. We know everything about you, including how to destroy you if you betray us.

“And just so you’re clear, betraying us, giving out our national defense secrets, is treason and punishable by death. The highest offices of government are aware of this operation.

“If you have any doubts, any hesitation, now is the time to walk away, Rock Powers. After this, there’s no going back.”

Rock took a deep breath. Espionage, that had to be an adrenaline rush, a new frontier for magic. And Lani. Damn his weak soul, he had to see her. Plus there was that little matter Nelson had mentioned about someone killing Rock within the week.

“We’re in a bit of a time crunch,” Nelson said. “But if you need a day to think it over—”

“Hobson’s choice, but I’m in.”

Nelson extended his hand.

Rock didn’t take it. “With one condition—I get my wife back. I get a chance to work things out with Lani.” Rock stared him in the eye.

Nelson dropped his hand and studied Rock. “I can give you the opportunity to see her, the rest is up to you. No guarantees. The decision to remain your wife is ultimately Lani’s.”

Rock nodded. “Fair enough. What do we do now? How does this work?”

“We shake on it. I’ll get you the details later.” He grinned. “And so you know, we’ll pay you handsomely. This deal will be worth your while.”

Rock didn’t give a damn about payment. He shook Nelson’s hand without hesitating when Nelson extended it.

“When do I get to see Lani?” Rock’s heart raced as he asked the question.”

“I’m going to have to train this impatience out of you.” Nelson shrugged and snapped his fingers. “My girl, reveal yourself.”

Then, right before Rock’s eyes, a woman dressed in skintight black and carrying a pistol stepped out of the shadows from behind the Dumpster. She raised her gaze to look him in the eye.

Rock’s heart caught in his throat. “Lani?”

Even in the twilight, her beauty took his breath away. She’d played up her Hispanic side, so much so that she looked like he imagined a hot Havana night felt—balmy, lusty, sexy with heat.

“Classic misdirection.” Nelson laughed. “She was there all along, watching my backside.”

She may have had Nelson’s back, but knowing she was going to see Rock, she’d dressed for him.

CHAPTER TWO

Lani stared at Rock, trying desperately not to let her emotions run away with her as she watched surprise, relief, desire, and hurt light his eyes in rapid succession. Rock still turned her insides to mush and vaporized her common sense. She’d hoped she’d gotten past that. Apparently not.

He grabbed her and pulled her into him, tipping her face up for a kiss before she could utter any of the ridiculous canned phrases she’d rehearsed as her opening lines. How did she apologize for disappearing on her husband and leaving him to dangle in the mist of mystery and suspicion for two years? How did she keep her most important secret from him and not let her heart rule her head again while she was around him? And yet encourage him to help her on a mission fraught with intrigue, double-crossing, and secrets of his magic revealed? Rock might not realize it yet, but their reunion was doomed to be short-lived.

Emmett had used the worst kind of deception to entice Rock into this mission—false hope.
Damn him.

Lani simply stared into Rock’s eyes, willing him to forgive her for what she’d done and what she was about to do to him.

“Lani,” he whispered and crushed her against him so tightly she felt the hard contours of his body as her body reacted to his.

He stared back at her with his heart in his eyes, almost daring her to crush it again. And then he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her with so much intensity, he took her breath away.

He tasted the same—like Rock, the man she’d loved. The man who’d tricked her into marriage and nearly ruined her career.

Despite all that, she kissed him back. At least, she was almost sure she did. As his tongue probed her mouth, she lost her senses. Would she behave so civilly if she’d been in his position? More likely she’d spit on him and call him names. Shove him away. Demand answers.