Love & Deception (Agents in Love - Book 1) (40 page)

“It’ll never be perfect, but I might not
have to wear long sleeves and pants the rest of my life.”

They hadn’t talked about that much, focusing
more on healing and getting her hand functional again. Nick knew it
worried her, though. People judged appearances harshly, and
Carlie’s dreams of a shop required her to be in front of the
public. The worst burns had covered her arms from when the ceiling
caved in on her. It was actually fortunate that it
was
her
arms. It could have easily been her face instead.

“That’s good to hear,” he finally answered.
“I wish I could have been there.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I handled it. You
couldn’t reschedule for the restaurant, and I didn’t want to wait
another three months to see the doc.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but we’ve been able to
spend a lot of time together these past few months. To tell you the
truth, I’m happy I’m well enough to be away from you.”

Nick laughed. “When you put it that way, so
am I. It’s also good there’ve been no signs anyone followed us to
Canada. I think we’re well hidden from your pursuers. Though,
truthfully, I still hate leaving you alone.”

“I was on my own for a lot of years,” she
pointed out. “Now, I get to spend my whole life with you. We’ll be
okay for one night. I’m finally safe from the assassins and things
are looking up.”

Way up, since they successfully hid from
S.A.T.O. too. “Did the doctor say when he can schedule your
surgery?”

“Not until April.” Carlie sighed. “I’d like
it fixed sooner, but he said my skin’s not quite ready. Besides,
this guy’s in high demand. His calendar’s booked and he can’t fit
me in any sooner.”

“He’s the best around. I wouldn’t send you
to a hack.”

“I know that, honey. You’re too good to me.”
She cleared her throat. “So, how’d your day go?”

“Very, very long.” Nick rolled onto his side
and stared at the clock. It was already past seven, and his morning
started before the sun rose. “I don’t want to stop talking to you,
but I really need to get some room service before I fall asleep. We
couldn’t come to an agreement today, so I have to meet with
everyone again tomorrow before heading home.”

“It’s okay,” she answered. “I’m tired too. I
think I’ll take a nice, hot bubble bath and go to sleep early.”

Nick growled playfully, feeling a bit more
energetic. “Think of me in the tub?”

“You know it.”

“Great. Now I’ll have a hard time
sleeping.”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to take a cold
shower tonight.” She laughed.

“That’s not funny.”

“You poor thing.” She still sounded like she
held back laughter. “If you get home early enough tomorrow, I’ll
make it up to you.”

“I’ll be there by six,” he promised, already
anxious to hold her again.

“In that case, I’ll have dinner ready and
waiting. Love you, fake husband.”

He wondered if she was trying to get him to
slip up again and admit he planned on asking her to marry him for
real. However, if he was going to live a supposed ‘normal’ life, he
wanted to do it right. He wouldn’t propose to Carlie until getting
the okay from her father. The trip to Africa was only a month away.
She’d have to be patient.

“I love you too, fake wife. See you
tomorrow.”

***

After a long soak in the tub, Carlie pulled
on flannel pajamas and swiped mist from the mirror. It seemed
colder in the house without Nick. At least there was no reason to
wear an ultra sexy, but freezing, teddy. She ran a brush across her
hair, smiling to herself. Nick would be happy when he saw she cut
it short again.

She had to admit, it was exciting how much
he went after her neck now. She’d never kept her hair short before,
but anything to make her man happy. And tomorrow, she’d make him
extremely happy.

Humming to herself, Carlie walked out of the
bathroom and turned off the lights. Time to climb into bed and have
sweet dreams about her future.

Just as she lay down, the doorbell chimed,
startling her.

No one ever came to visit—at least, no one
besides doctors and therapists. Her heart pounded with sudden fear
as her mouth dried out.

What were the chances, the one night Nick
left, someone paid a visit?

The bell chimed again, followed by pounding
on the door. “Carlie Hollis,” came a faint voice. “You’re in
danger.” The pounding started back up. “We’re here because of
Nick.”

Nick sent them? Did something change after
they talked? Carlie held her breath, torn about what to do.
Wouldn’t he have called if something was wrong? Then again, what if
he couldn’t? She needed to call him. Except she never memorized the
number to his new cell—it was in the address book, downstairs in
his office.

She slipped out of bed and tiptoed through
the house. The man outside continued shouting her name and ringing
the bell, so Carlie didn’t dare turn on the lights. Just as she was
about to walk into the office, the front door creaked open.

“Nice work,” the man’s gruff voice said.

“Thanks, boss.”

Boss? Nick had the number for someone marked
boss in the address book. She should have asked him about it, but
then she’d have to admit she found the book and called Shelley. She
didn’t know who this man was, but he obviously knew Nick. That
didn’t necessarily mean she could trust him.

She crept into the office, making her way by
feel, and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. The pistol was
loaded and ready, since Nick believed the prepared person lived
longest. Although she wasn’t yet a good shot, she knew how to fire
it. She’d even hit a target a few times. If these people were
honestly here at Nick’s request, it wouldn’t be a problem and
they’d understand being met with a gun. Otherwise, even she
couldn’t miss at point-blank range. Until she knew for sure, it
would be stupid to confront them without any protection.

Silently, she padded to the front entryway,
flipping on the light and cocking the gun. “You boys make a habit
of breaking and entering?” she asked, leveling the gun at the older
man—the one with an air of power about him.

He turned and raised his hands in surrender.
“Don’t shoot. Please. We’re here for your protection. When you
didn’t answer the door, I thought something horrible already
happened.”

Not lowering the weapon, Carlie looked the
man over, barely glancing at the dark-skinned guy beside him. The
gray-haired one had to be ‘boss.’ Although his dark-blue eyes and
kind smile put her in mind of someone’s grandfather, the
barely-contained power surrounding him implied something else.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“My name’s Paul Billings.” He slowly lowered
his hands to his sides. “Perhaps Nick mentioned me?”

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. What are
you here for, Paul?”

“I told you, I’m here to protect you.” He
glanced around the room and up the stairway behind her. “Is Nick
here?”

“What?” Carlie narrowed her eyes and gripped
the gun tightly. “I thought you said Nick sent you?”

He shook his head. “I said I was here
because of Nick, but he didn’t send me. If he had his way, I
wouldn’t have found you until it was too late.”

The man next to Paul shuffled his feet, and
Carlie trained the gun on him. “Don’t move.”

“Now, now, Carlie,” Paul said, his tone
soothing and calm. “There’s no reason for that gun. We aren’t the
bad guys.”

“I think the gun’s necessary.” She swung it
back to Paul, deciding he was the biggest threat. “What do you mean
about being too late? Nick’s done nothing wrong. Are you the FBI
agent he’s running from?”

“FBI.” Paul gave a short bark of laughter.
“Clever boy. Is that what he told you? The FBI was never after
Nick. It’s you we’ve been investigating, with Nick’s help, but we
aren’t the FBI.”

While she knew the FBI had looked at her
because of her association with Muhammad, she didn’t understand
what he meant by them having Nick’s help. One step at a time. “If
you aren’t the FBI, who are you?”

“We’re a secret organization who fights
against terror on American soil.” He said it with such pride,
Carlie knew he truly was the boss of whatever this was.

“Isn’t that what the FBI does?” she asked,
not particularly impressed.

“That’s only part of their job,” Paul
explained. “We focus only on terrorists, and we can do things the
FBI can’t get away with.”

She widened her eyes, getting a glimmer of
where this might be headed. “Such as?”

“Killing people who need to be killed.”

Carlie sucked in a breath. Did she even have
a chance? It seemed laughable to hold a gun on two trained killers.
She slowly lowered it to her side, but wasn’t ready to give up
entirely. People got lucky sometimes when shooting. She might still
be able to save herself.

He chuckled. “I see you figured out we
aren’t frightened by your pistol.”

Not wanting to admit defeat, she ignored
that. “So, you talked Nick into giving you information about me
because you thought I was some sort of terrorist?”

“You really don’t understand anything, do
you?” He shook his head, sighing. “You’re still working under the
assumption he loves you. You poor, poor girl. I’m sorry to be the
one to tell you.”

Although it felt like her heart dropped into
her stomach, Carlie tried to give no outward sign. “Tell me
what?”

“Nick was never your boyfriend, my dear. He
never wanted to date you. He didn’t go to Sayle to open a
restaurant.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe
him.

“He came because he is my top agent, and I
sent him to investigate you.”

Was her life with Nick all a lie? Carlie
struggled to blink back tears as a lump formed in her throat. It
didn’t seem possible, but this man knew so many details.

“We were wrong about you, Carlie,” Paul
continued. “Nick won’t accept that though. He’s sure you’re a
terrorist, and things are getting crazy. From the messages he’s
sent me, I’m sure he plans to kill you within the next few days.
You need to come with me. I’ll get you home and keep you safe.”

“No!” Carlie raised the gun, though her hand
trembled. “You’re lying. Nick loves me!”

“He doesn’t love anyone. You’re a target to
him, nothing more.”

“He saved my life. He came into a burning
building to keep me alive.” Carlie held the weapon steadier,
comforted by that thought. “If he wanted me dead, he didn’t need to
do anything.”

Paul shook his head and looked at the other
man. “She really doesn’t know.”

The man shrugged. “He’s a crafty one. He
always gets the lady targets to screw him, and then they fall over
themselves thinking he’s the one.”

Carlie wanted to put a bullet in him right
then. “Don’t say that.”

“Yes, Terrance,” Paul said. “Don’t upset
Carlie. We’re here to help her.”

Terrance laughed. “Once Edward’s helped
himself to a woman, she quits thinking for herself.”

“Edward?” Carlie felt like he punched her in
the gut. Although she didn’t want to listen to these men’s lies,
Donovan and Madeline called Nick Edward several times. She had
found it strange, and Madeline’s explanation about it being a
longstanding joke hadn’t rang true. Carlie never made an issue of
it because she and Nick were fighting and she was trying to get
along with him. “Who’s Edward?”

“Edward, Charles, Frank, Nick, even once
Billy.” Paul folded his arms across his chest, though what might
have been sympathy filled his eyes. “Mr. Kendall has many names,
changing with each job I send him to. Until a few months ago, he
was my best agent. I could always count on him to get the job done.
For some reason, he’s obsessed with you, and I can’t convince him
this job is over.”

Terrance offered a sneer—no sympathy from
that one. “He saved you from the fire because he thought you hadn’t
revealed all your secrets.”

Feeling unfaithful somehow, Carlie couldn’t
stop the memories of their last fight. Nick insisting she was a
terrorist and needed to tell him about it. No matter how much she
argued, he didn’t believe her. Was it possible he only pretended to
forgive her, hoping to discover her plot by pretending to love
her?

She remembered how upset he became when she
asked him to copy down Muhammad’s number. Carlie knew without a
doubt that, although Muhammad was Muslim and people made assumption
based on that, he was no more a terrorist than she was. He
constantly struggled against the shame his uncle brought to the
family by joining a terrorist group and attempting to assassinate
President Sharp.

“I don’t know what to believe,” she said, so
low the words barely made a sound.

“Carlie, I have to get you to safety.”
Paul’s voice was maddeningly calm for a man who just destroyed her
world. “If you’ll let me slide my cell phone to you without blowing
my head off, you can read the proof yourself. Nick’s messages have
become extremely disturbing the past week. He’s close to killing
you.”

She lowered the gun and nodded.

Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out
a smart phone, swiping at the screen. He placed it on the ground
and kicked it across to her. “He’s in there as Nick. Read the
messages.” When Carlie hesitated, he nodded with encouragement. “I
promise you’re safe with us. Pick that phone up and scroll through.
I have no reason to lie to you. All I want is to save you and get
Nick to a psychiatric hospital. He’s losing it.”

She stooped to pick up the phone, darting
her eyes between it and the men, trying to keep her gun trained on
them.

Paul sighed. “I can see you’re worried about
us. Why don’t we step outside while you verify what I’ve said? Then
you don’t have to fear a sneak attack while you read.”

She shook her head. “Not a very effective
solution when you pick locks.”