the top neatly folded and a steaming cup of coffee.
She paid, stuffed her change in the pocket of her sweatpants and headed for the door. It wasn’t until she was unlocking her car and the sack bumped against the door that she realized there was something more than a bagel inside. The hair crawled on the back of her neck as she slid behind the steering wheel and locked herself in. Then she set her coffee cup in the holder on the dash and opened the sack.
The small black cassette in the bottom of the sack could only mean one thing.
“Well, hell,” Ally muttered, as she slid the cassette into the stereo on the dash. Jonah’s deep, gravelly voice was familiar, as was the unusual way in which she’d been contacted. It was typical of the anonymity of SPEAR. Ordinarily she would have been excited about a new assignment, but she hadn’t even been home long enough to do laundry or have an all-night session watching her favorite movies.
She started the car, listening to the tape as she drove toward home, every now and then allowing herself a frown as she pinched off bites of the bagel and poked them into her mouth.
As far as assignments went it was unusual, although she couldn’t find fault with the location. She’d heard of the spa on Condor Mountain and had no problem at all taking advantage of some free R and R. And Easton Kirby, who was now the manager of the place, was a legend within the agency. Her curiosity piqued as Jonah’s spare remarks began to sink in. If she understood him correctly, and she was certain she did because Jonah was not a man to leave anything to the imagination, Jonah needed Easton Kirby on active duty and Kirby had refused. The tape ended with a final order.
Ally was to change his mind—in any way that she could.
She ejected the tape and tossed it back into the sack, well aware that within thirty seconds of it having been played, it would go blank, leaving no trace of ever having been recorded upon. She pulled into the driveway of her house and punched the garage door opener. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes snapping angrily as she waited for the garage door to go up.
“Change his mind?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And how am I supposed to do that…drive him mad with my womanly wiles?”
Seconds later she pulled into the garage, lowered the door and then got out, but only after the door was completely shut. Her house key was in her hand as she swept the garage with a casual gaze before making a move toward the door. Once inside, she dumped her sweaty gym clothes on the washer and the bagel sack in the trash, then downed the last of her coffee before adding the empty cup to the lot.
The red light on her answering machine was blinking, but her mind was on the new assignment. What in blazes did one wear to coerce a reluctant operative back into the fold?
Almost a week later and a year older, Ally pulled into the parking lot of the Condor Mountain Resort and Spa, then sat for a moment, staring at the magnificence of the building and grounds. The four-story mixture of Gothic and Victorian architecture seemed to fit the starkness of the geography. Lush was not a word that described this part of the California coast. The mountainous area of the region had steep, and often narrow, winding roads, and the forestation of the area was sparse, often leaving bare spots in the rocky terrain. But there was a beauty to the land that seemed to fit the power of the waters that pounded the coast. Overhead, seagulls dipped and swooped, riding the air currents while searching for food, and she could hear the harsh, guttural barks of sea lions coming from the beach below. From where she was sitting, she could see the beginnings of a long, descending series of steps leading down the side of the hill toward the Pacific. The view was breathtaking and the weather sunny and breezy, which was typical for this time of year. She couldn’t help wishing this was going to be a “real” vacation and not another undercover assignment.
As she got out of the car and went around to the trunk to get her bags, she had to admit, her job this time was hardly on a par with what she normally did. At least she wouldn’t be posing as some wayward teenager or wild child in order to infiltrate some crime syndicate. All she had to do was convince Easton Kirby to come back on active duty. How difficult could that be?
She popped the trunk on her car and leaned in to get out her bag. As she did, a large shadow suddenly passed between her and the sun and she knew she was no longer alone. She straightened and turned, expecting a bellhop, or at the least an employee of the resort.
It was a man.
He was tall, so tall, and standing close—too close.
Slightly blinded from the sunlight behind him, she saw nothing but his silhouette. And then he stepped to one side to reach for her bag and she saw his face.
It was Easton Kirby himself—the man she’d come to meet.
Well, this makes it easy. At least I won’t have to wangle an introduction.
“Ms. Corbin, welcome to Condor Mountain,” he said, as he lifted her bag from the trunk of her car.
She thought nothing of the fact that he would know her on sight. The agency would have followed procedure and notified him ahead of time that an operative would be arriving.
“Thank you,” Ally said, a little disconcerted by his height and the way he was looking at her.
She was five inches over five feet tall and he seemed a good foot taller. And, there was a look in his eyes that made her shiver. She shrugged off the thought that he would know why she’d come, telling herself that it was guilt that was making her nervous.
“This is certainly wonderful service. I only just arrived.”
“I know,” he said softly, then looked her straight in the eyes. “I was waiting for you.”
Ally’s lips parted in shock. But only a little and only for a brief moment. As she followed him up the steps and into the hotel, she couldn’t shake the notion that he wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting. She had a desperate feeling that she’d been waiting for him, too—all of her life.
Oh fine, she thought. Now is not the time for my stifled hormones to kick in. Just because he’s sexy, and good-looking, and I’m supposed to talk this man into something he doesn’t want to do, doesn’t mean I have to complicate this more than it already is.
They reached the registration desk. Before she could speak, he was bypassing it and leading her toward the elevators.
“You’re already checked in,” he said. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”
The doors opened and they stepped inside. She watched as he stuck a key into a slot and gave it a turn. Immediately the elevator car started to ascend. She grabbed on to the railing to steady herself, then noted that they had bypassed the fourth floor.
“I thought this hotel only had four floors. Where are we going? Heaven?”
For the first time since her arrival he looked at her and grinned and her heart dropped right to her toes. Oh lordy. I am so out of my league.
“No, but some people tend to think the view might be similar,” he said. “There’s a penthouse suite on the ocean side of the hotel that’s not visible from the front entrance. It’s reserved for special guests such as yourself.”
“Oh,” she said, and then looked down at her feet so that he might not see the remorse she was feeling. He was being nice to her because he thought she was over the edge. Slipping. Burned-out. All the
