Playing for Keeps (40 page)

Good question. It was sci-fi mostly, but not the artsy or animated crap. Some seasons of
Babylon 5
, for example. I was too busy noticing her
stuff
to really notice her stuff.

Freelance Critic
:

If she looks like C.A. and likes sci-fi, she’s already taken. Don’t waste your time. Try online dating. It worked for me (3rd anniversary coming up). As for the Rustlers, they’ve got years of mediocrity ahead. Not sure why you keep harping on them. Man crush on Coach Spurling maybe? You’ve got a better chance of scoring with him than the elevator girl, tho.

The Opinionated Sports Guy
:

You’re a riot. And you’re wrong. They’ll make the playoffs for sure. Mediocrity isn’t in Spurling’s playbook. But meanwhile, congrats on the anniversary.

Click here to buy
Play by Play
!

Keep reading for an excerpt

from Kate Donovan’s

new romantic suspense novel,

Trace Elements

Special Agent Annika Trace is the hottest thing in law enforcement—at least on TV. Her long legs, designer suits, and hunky sidekick have garnered millions of fans, one of whom—a four-year-old kidnap victim named Linzie—is refusing to talk to the real FBI. In desperation, Special Agent Trace—a.k.a. actress Nikki Gower—is called in to help.

Special Agent Josh Saxon became a hero when he brought Linzie back safely. Now he’s out to catch the kidnappers and doesn’t need some Hollywood caricature of a federal agent interfering in his case. But when Nikki establishes a rapport with the child, Josh admits she might just get him enough information to track down the culprits. And even as Josh and Nikki spar over the best way to get the job done, another rapport is being established—on a much more physical and decidedly more adult level—as Josh discovers firsthand how Nikki makes the airwaves sizzle.

Chapter One

From the moment the abduction of four-year-old Linzie Ainsworth was reported to the FBI, Special Agent Josh Saxon had owned the case. He negotiated the ransom, made the drop personally, then found the child’s frail, unconscious body in the trunk of a car and brought her back alive.

It was truly the case of a lifetime, and he wanted to see it through. To cuff the scum who had terrorized this helpless victim and make them pay. Grill them, toss them behind bars, testify against them, then throw away the key.

The thought of bringing someone else into the investigation, especially at this point, seemed counterproductive. But he trusted his boss’s judgment, so if Matt Moreno thought he needed a partner, Josh would go along with any agent he chose.

But a fake one? An
actress
? That crossed too many lines. Plus, it was an insult. And worst of all, Josh hadn’t even been consulted ahead of time.

Because Matt knew you’d burst an effing blood vessel.

So here they stood—Matt Moreno, Special Agent in Charge; Josh Saxon, Special Agent but obviously not in charge of much; and the Ainsworth parents—waiting on the sunporch of the family’s posh D.C. mansion for the actress’s arrival.

True to its name, the porch was brightly lit even though the sun itself had set two hours earlier. Strings of dazzling white lights crisscrossed the glass walls and ceiling, highlighting the marble statuary and reflecting off the tile cabinetry, creating a truly stunning display of pseudo daytime brilliance.

Fitting, since actress Nicole Gower hailed from the land of artificial lights and grand entrances.

“We didn’t mean to spring this on you, Agent Saxon,” Lorna Ainsworth was telling him. “But the idea came to me out of the blue, and when I mentioned it to Agent Moreno, he ran with it.” The sexy, dark-haired mom with the amazing rack moved in closer. “You don’t really mind, do you? I’m just so desperate to get my baby talking again, and she loves Agent Trace so much.”

He wanted to ask, or rather beg her not to refer to the actress as an agent, but he didn’t trust his tone, which had been referred to more than once as a growl. So he just remained silent.

“I’m going to borrow Agent Saxon for a minute,” Matt said cheerfully. Then he ambled into the glittery hall and toward the richly furnished media room that served as the FBI’s base of operations. It was state-of-the-art times ten, from its black leather stadium seating, to the huge primary screen, to the awe-inspiring sound system. Yet it also provided a more intimate venue, with a plush blue love seat off to one side, subverting the grandiose display with a romantic, almost frilly, touch of warmth.

Immune to the contradictions, Josh followed his boss into the room, then shut the double doors and glared. “An actress? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I knew you’d be pissed, but get over it.” Matt crossed to the well-stocked bar and lounged against it, the picture of power and ease. “I’m convinced this can work. And even if it doesn’t, so what? It makes the parents happy. Keeps them motivated. We need their continued cooperation, right? The kid’s safe—thanks to you—but we still need to catch the fucks who took her.”

Matt was right, of course. Matt was always right. Except about the actress. So Josh countered him coolly. “The shrinks are providing the motivation. Not just the ones from the Bureau, but the private ones Lorna and Kevin hired. Their diagnosis is consistent. Linzie’s getting worse every day, withdrawing deeper and deeper, deteriorating before our eyes. She can’t begin to heal until she knows her captors are behind bars.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s taking forever to find those assholes, and that’s on me. No argument there. So if you think I need help, fine. But turning the investigation into a circus won’t help.”

“How is it a circus? I talked to Nikki Gower for almost forty-five minutes this morning, and she’s smart. Insightful. Maybe even inspirational. Read her file.”

“I don’t need to read it. Her publicity shot says it all. Great face, great body. All the qualifications a female agent needs, right?”

Matt didn’t take the bait. “She went to law school before choosing a career in acting. And it shows. She asked all the right questions—”

“It’s
my
job to ask questions,” Josh protested, then he winced and added more diplomatically, “I just wish you had consulted me.”

“So you could talk me out of it? Do you think I’m an effing idiot?” Matt grinned as though he actually enjoyed torturing his agent. Then his mood softened. “This is your case, Josh. That’ll never change. No one—not even me—thought we’d ever see that kid again, but you made it happen. I’ll never forget it, frankly. You came trudging out of the darkness in the middle of a storm with that tiny body in your arms . . .” His voice cracked. “That poor kid was so still, so lifeless, I figured she was dead. And I thought it would destroy you too. But you saved her.
And
yourself.”

Josh remembered that moment too. Finding Linzie’s body in the trunk of a car. Thinking she was dead. Helplessness bordering on despair had assaulted him and he had gathered her up into his arms, determined to breathe life back into her even if it meant giving her his own soul to do so.

Still, he wasn’t about to let Matt distract him with cheap emotion, so all he said was, “You need to let me do my job, my way.”

“Those parents worship you, buddy. If you nix this idea, they’ll back you up. But I’m asking you to give it a chance. If Nikki can coax that kid into talking—well, that’s a win for everyone. Right?”

At that moment, Lorna Ainsworth burst through the doors like a child on Christmas morning and announced, “There’s a limo pulling up! I think it’s Agent Trace.”

As frustrated as he felt, Josh acknowledged that the parents—who had been zombies these last few days—really did seem invigorated by this annoying gimmick.

If only they wouldn’t refer to the Hollywood actress as “Agent Trace.”

Despite his misgivings, he didn’t want to miss the show, so he followed Matt and Lorna to the sunporch, then watched through a partially shuttered window as a town car pulled up to the side entrance of the residence. Time for the grand entrance, and, as Nikki Gower eased herself out of the vehicle, Josh could see why Hollywood loved her.

Long legs in absurdly sexy shoes—all the better to break a heel when the bad guys chased her—followed by a slender, perfectly proportioned body in a designer suit. Her dark blonde hair didn’t disappoint either—shoulder-length, wavy, freshly blown dry, probably by a makeup artist who traveled in the car with her.

So much for impersonating a federal agent. She looks more like a high-priced call girl.

Sunglasses blocked most of her face, but it didn’t matter. From the publicity photo shoved under his nose a few minutes earlier, Josh knew she was a knockout.

Wasn’t that part of the problem?

• • •

Taking a deep breath, Nikki Gower prepared herself for the task at hand. Agent Moreno’s phone call in the early morning hours had shocked her. This was the real FBI, not her usual fake Hollywood branch, asking for help on a real case.

And not just any case. This was the Ainsworth kidnapping, an event that had captured the attention of the country, if not the world, mostly because of the little girl’s sweet, trusting face. That haunting image had been splashed across newspapers and websites for days, followed by a second, even more inspiring photo of a tall, dark-haired man in a black trench coat carrying the pitiful child through the blinding rain. No one could see his face, but everyone could read that posture. Broad shoulders, long strides, the consummate professional. Even Nikki’s arrogant director had been impressed enough to order her and her costar to study the shot for pointers on how to look heroic.

Now Nikki was going to meet that guy. Help that guy. And even better, she would meet little Linzie, up close and personal, and help
her
recover from her ordeal. According to Agent Moreno,
Trace Elements
was the child’s favorite TV show, which meant Nikki, a.k.a. Special Agent Annika Trace, was her favorite detective. And so, while the poor kid had rebuffed the doctors and agents who tried getting through to her, including the hunky guy who saved her life, she might just talk to Annika, the fictional heroine who never made a mistake, never broke a nail or burst into tears, always got the bad guys, and always got her man, even if she hadn’t yet managed to keep him for more than one episode at a time.

She could—and would—make a contribution. But first, she needed to keep in mind the cryptic advice Agent Moreno had given her at the end of his phone briefing: “Everyone in the Ainsworth house is exhausted. Agent Saxon, the parents, Linzie, even the servants. But they each show it in different ways, so I hope you’re flexible. Because you’re the cavalry.”

Nikki had assured him she was born for that role. And now, standing in this gated driveway, she needed to make it so. To appear confident, and better still, to
inspire
confidence. This home had been invaded by evil, and while Linzie had been returned safely, the sense of violation surely lingered, to the point where one member of the housekeeping staff, a maid named Bianca, had actually taken her own life in response to it. Not that Nikki had all of the details on that yet, but she had heard enough to know there were layers of fear and despair here that might never be completely banished.

And so she had made her decision during the plane ride. She would be Annika—bold, take charge, and infallible. Showing weakness or even too much softness wouldn’t make sense, would it? And thanks to her year playing Annika on TV, she had grown into the role, becoming bolder in real life in the process, all of which would hopefully serve Linzie well.

So why did she feel so nervous? So inadequate?

Because you’re a wimp,
she told herself in frustration.
But you can’t afford to be one now, so suck it up.

According to reports, the traumatized four-year-old hadn’t ventured out of her bedroom since the kidnapping. But wasn’t it possible she’d come downstairs for this, the arrival of her favorite TV star?

Nikki needed to be ready for anything, including that, as she prepared to make her entrance.

• • •

As Josh looked on in frustrated silence, Matt opened the door for the actress, then stepped aside to facilitate her entry. He might as well have bowed to her, he was so obsequious. So completely smitten by her Hollywood aura. Even his voice seemed off, like he was meeting his childhood fantasy. “Thanks for coming, Ms. Gower. I’m Matt. We talked on the phone.”

She pulled off her sunglasses and flashed a dazzling smile. “Hi, Matt. Call me Nikki.”