Undercover Colorado. Cassie Miles

Mac said. “I’ll come with you.”

      THOUGH ABBY would rather have stayed in bed all day, nursing her hangover and cursing the wormy evils of tequila, she didn’t have that luxury. Last night, she had recognized Mac’s restlessness. He didn’t want to be here. And there was no way to force him to stay at the safe house. He had come here at the suggestion of his lieutenant. If he decided to leave, he could do so.

      To fulfill her assignment, she needed to convince him to trust her, offer him a bribe and inform her superiors of his response. A hike along a secluded mountain path seemed like a good way to get close to him.

      She abandoned her high heels for a pair of bright pink sneakers that matched her low-cut sweater. Together, she and Mac set out on a path that led past the barn toward a sloping hillside. The morning sun beat down with aching clarity. Behind her huge, extra-dark sunglasses, Abby winced. “Is it always so glaring?”

      “Take a deep gulp of that fresh air,” he said cheerfully. The man was positively enjoying her misery. What a rat! If she hadn’t been undercover, Abby would have flattened him with a karate kick to the jaw.

      He leaned against the corral beside the barn where three horses pranced and flicked their long tails. “Maybe,” he said, “we should go for a ride.”

      Bouncing up and down in the saddle with her brain crashing inside her skull? “Forget it.”

      “Look around you. Take a minute to appreciate the scenery.”

      “If it’s so great, how come you live in the city?”

      He shrugged. “I just ended up there.”

      She didn’t believe that for one minute. Mac was the kind of man who took action. Things didn’t “just happen” to him. “What made you leave?”

      “The usual reasons,” he said cryptically. “How about you? Did you grow up in Los Angeles or move there?”

      Abby couldn’t remember if she’d mentioned L.A. last night when she was drinking. After she’d bumped into Leo outside the ladies’ room, things had gotten real blurry. She’d felt like she was in a waking dream, standing outside her body and watching herself as she slurped down tequila and laughed too loud. Only her years of undercover experience had kept her from completely blowing her identity as Vanessa Nye.

      Now, she knew, Mac was trying to pierce that cover. He must have gotten some inside information about Vanessa Nye and was testing her. Well, fine! Even with the remnants of a hangover, she could handle this.

      “I grew up in a little town in Oregon. I didn’t hate it, but I was bored. So totally bored. Vegas was more to my liking.”

      “I like Oregon,” Mac said. “What was the name of the town?”

      “Sterling.” She remembered more details from her dossier on Vanessa. “Our high school team was the Sterling Pirates. Our colors were red and gold. I was a cheerleader.”

      “And in Las Vegas?”

      “Different kind of cheers.” She started walking along the path. Vanessa’s early life wasn’t all that different from her own. Abby had also come from a small town and had been a cheerleader.

      “Tell me how you ended up in California.”

      Abby lowered her sunglasses and peered over the rim at him. “I’m not in the mood for a cat-and-mouse game, Mac. If there’s something you want to know from me, just ask.”

      “You’re Vanessa Nye,” he said.

      “Bingo.”

      “You lived with the head of the Santoro family.”

      “Right again.”

      “Why?”

      She allowed her sunglasses to fall back onto the bridge of her nose. How would the real Vanessa handle this inquiry? “None of your business.”

      Turning away, she tromped along the path beside a narrow creek. The dried grasses at the side of the rippling water crackled as she walked through them. Under her sweater and leather pants, Abby perspired although the temperature was pleasantly cool. She welcomed the cold sweat, evidence that the alcohol was working through her system.

      As she followed the creek into the shadow of the trees, she paused. Her goal was to get Mac to trust her, which meant she needed to be more amenable. She forced herself to smile at him. “I don’t want to think about the past, okay? I just want to have fun. Just to, you know, be friends with you.”

      “Maybe I want to be more than a friend.”

      She hadn’t expected that response. All the indications Mac had given until now were that he didn’t even know she was female. What was he up to? She studied his expression.

      Like all good liars, Abby was easily able to recognize deception in others. It seemed to her that Mac was telling the truth about wanting to hook up with her. His teeth bared in a predatory grin. His gaze latched on to her face, and he leaned close. These were all indications of physical attraction.

      Surely not. Surely, she was reading the signs wrong. “What are you saying?”

      “I like you.”

      “Even though you know who I am?” His readiness to get friendly with Vanessa was clearly inappropriate. “But you’re a cop.”

      “So what?”

      A good cop would have better boundaries. “Don’t you disapprove of my connection with Santoro?”

      “That was the past,” he said. “I thought you just wanted to have fun.”

      “Well, sure. But—”

      “You could have fun with me.” His right arm encircled her waist and he pulled her tight against his hard, lean body. “What do you say, Vanessa?”

      Expertly, she slipped away from his one-armed embrace. Too much was happening too fast. Though her brain was still sluggish from the hangover, her instincts warned her about getting close to this man. He was her target.

      And she was Vanessa Nye. A gold digger. That would be her excuse to back off. “Well, Mac. If you really know so much about me, you’ll know that I’m very selective. My companionship doesn’t come cheap.”

      “You like pretty things,” he said.

      “Expensive things.”

      “Today is your lucky day,” he said coolly. “I can afford you, Vanessa. I’m rich.”

      From bribes? From ill-gotten gains? “No way. Cops don’t make big bucks.”

      “Inheritance,” he said. “I received a ton of money when my grandmother sold off family-owned lands where Vail ski resort was developed in the 1960s. The Grangers are very, very wealthy.”

      His gaze flicked down and to the left. His right hand touched the side of his nose and rubbed across his lips. Both were obvious signals that Mac was telling a lie. Abby knew it. But Vanessa wouldn’t. Vanessa would take Mac at his word.

      “Really?” she asked. “You’re a land baron?”

      “A former land baron. That’s right.”

      He looked down at his toes and shuffled. Clearly uncomfortable. Mac was the worst liar she had ever encountered. He wouldn’t last a minute in undercover work.

      But this lie—no matter how poorly executed—was very clever as a test. If she really was Vanessa Nye, she’d be all over this good-looking cop who was also rich. Vanessa used seduction to get what she wanted. And, for the moment, Abby was Vanessa.

      She purred, “I think you’re right, Mac. You and me? We could have some fun together. Later today, you could take me shopping at the boutiques in Vail.”

      “I don’t want to wait until later.”

      Again,