Undercover Wife. Debra Webb
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When the bright security lights were a dim glow in the distance she turned back to face front again. To face the consequences of the decision she’d made.
Gone was the prison garb she’d despised so. In its place she wore the jeans, T-shirt and sneakers she’d arrived in four months ago. The rest of her personal effects, ID, jewelry, pictures, etcetera, remained in a large padded envelope now in Logan’s possession. He’d told her she wouldn’t need them right now. A new thought occurred to her then. She chewed her lower lip as her anxiety spiked again. Had she traded one kind of prison for another? Where were they going? What would happen after they arrived?
“Why are we going to the airport?” Her voice sounded small in the oppressive silence. Surely they didn’t expect to keep the intended destination a secret from her at this point.
“We have a plane to catch,” Logan said without looking back at her. “That’s all you need to know right now.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again. There was no point demanding answers when she knew he wouldn’t give them. The last thing she wanted to do was antagonize the man since her fate lay squarely in his hands. The prison had signed over responsibility of her to him. She was in his charge, at his mercy.
Just like with Jeff.
She shuddered inwardly at the flash of memories that accompanied that last thought. No. That wasn’t completely true. This man was nothing like her former fiancé. The information Logan had given her so far—paltry as it was—did appear to be the truth. He worked for the government, she was as certain as she could be of that. She’d seen his credentials and the jurisdiction paperwork when he’d signed for her release. No one at the prison—not even her, not really—had questioned anything. The idea of gaining her freedom once more had been far too tempting for her to think rationally.
But now those more rational thoughts wouldn’t abate. He’d said he needed her for a mission that involved national security. She would assume someone else’s identity. The mission was very dangerous. But what kind of expertise or experience could she offer this man or her country?
A new kind of stress churned inside her, turning her insides to ice, threatening to shatter her. She fought it. Hugged her arms around her middle and forced herself to remain calm, at least on the surface. She would have the answers she needed when the right time came. He’d assured her of that. There was no need for her to come unglued just yet.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Whatever it took to get her life back she would do it. She wasn’t the trusting little naïve fool she’d been two years ago. She’d learned the hard way not to trust anyone, most especially a man who put his work before all else. Her gaze went automatically to the back of John Logan’s dark head. A man like him, she knew instinctively. Well, she didn’t have to trust him in that way. And she definitely had no plans to get to know him intimately. This was a business deal. All she had to do was follow his instructions and she’d have her life back. She wanted that more than she wanted to take her next breath.
Whatever happened tomorrow, one thing was irrefutable—right now, this minute, she was free again.
That would have to be enough.
She’d gotten through the last four months one day at a time, she’d get through this the same way.
To her surprise, they didn’t go to Hartfield, Atlanta’s International Airport, as Erin had assumed they would. Instead the driver parked near a hangar at Atlanta’s favored alternate, PDK Airport. The plane, small jet actually, the kind corporate executives used, gleamed in the runway lights. She followed Logan and the driver in that direction. As far as she could see only one man waited nearby.
“We’re fueled and ready for flight,” the new man said to Logan. Almost as tall as Logan, he was older, but looked every bit as physically fit.
The pilot, Erin decided. Despite his rugged profile, he looked friendly enough. In her opinion, none of these guys really looked like secret agents. Well, except for Logan. He did have that aura of danger…a kind of sexy mystique. Then again, all she had to go by was what she’d seen in the movies. Probably not good examples, she decided.
Exhaustion and anxiety clawing at her frazzled nerves, she exhaled a loud, heavy breath. She hadn’t meant to, it just came out, igniting instead of releasing a tide of new anxiety. Logan and the driver from the SUV turned simultaneously and stared at her. Erin swallowed, trying her level best not to let those piercing stares undo her already flimsy bravado.
After a moment that lasted far too long, Logan turned his attention back to the pilot. “We’ll be ready in five.”
The man, pilot, whatever, nodded and headed toward the plane. The SUV driver, who was slighter and somewhat shorter in build than the other two, followed. She decided that he was of Latin descent, though his English was perfect and was spoken with no accent at all.
Erin felt Logan’s intense gaze on her long before she worked up the nerve to make eye contact. Unable to pretend not to notice any longer, she stiffened her spine and met that assessing gaze head-on. Whatever he expected of her she could do it, she told herself again. She had to do it.
“Last chance, Bailey. What’s it going to be? You still in?”
How could he think she’d back out now? She’d come this far. She sure as heck wasn’t returning to that prison. “Of course I’m still in,” she said sharply, though her voice sounded a little shaky and a lot hollow to her own ears.
That dark, dark gaze bored deeply into hers. For just a second Erin was sure she saw concern, or something on that order, then he banished it.
“All right. But don’t say I didn’t offer you an out.”
Before Erin could string together an appropriate retort, he turned and strode to the waiting jet. She blinked, suddenly uncertain of herself all over again. He’d given her one last chance to change her mind. She hadn’t taken it. Was that a mistake? If she boarded that plane would she ever see Atlanta again? Was her passion for freedom going to be a death wish in the end?
There was no one she could turn to. No one who even cared, or who would miss her when she was gone. Her parents had died years ago. She had no siblings. And Jeff, well, he’d been a total jerk. He sure wouldn’t miss her. The fact that she didn’t have any friends to call upon was no one’s fault but her own. She’d always been too busy with work. Work, work, work. That’s all she’d done since graduating college three years ago. Now look at her. Following a complete stranger to God knows where to do only the Devil knew what.
Erin Bailey, this is your life.
And it sucked.
Logan paused a few feet away from the open boarding door. “It’s the point of no return, Bailey. If you’re still a go, don’t look back because nothing about your life will ever be the same again.”
She couldn’t have replied even