Secondly, he and Mal got along now about as well as the Agency got along with RIOT—they generally wanted to kill each other.
Thirdly, while Mal was an excellent cover life artist, she wasn’t a trained agent. Oh, she could shoot with the best of them, but a gun wasn’t her most efficient weapon. No, she wielded words like a pro, cutting as efficiently as if using a stiletto. He knew—he’d been the recipient of her knife’s edge too many times. He didn’t want her sharp tongue anywhere near Sophia.
And lastly—she was a horror at math. Could barely balance a checkbook. He wasn’t a math genius, but he had a degree in computer science and knew math as well as any engineer. What he didn’t know, his eidetic memory would help him fake his way through. Without one, how was Mal going to convincingly play a mathematics grad student? He shuddered as he thought about how he’d have to cover for her. Could he claim she was mute?
Tate had reasoned, begged, and even pleaded with the chief to let him go solo. He didn’t need a cover life artist. He didn’t do disguises when he went undercover. He was an out in the open agent.
“You do this time,” Emmett had said. “Our contact in London says Sophia insisted she will contact you. Not the other way around. She’s nervous about being discovered and killed. Very skittish.
“You’re to go to Cheltenham undercover as Dr. Tate Stevens, professor of mathematics. She specified the name. That way she’ll know whom to contact. She says you’re too well known in RIOT circles as yourself. She can’t be seen anywhere near you. You’ll have to go undercover and in disguise.”
Emmett had given him an up-and-down look and scowled. “It’s too damn bad you’ve never taken the trouble to learn how to use a disguise. They can be extremely useful.”
Emmett was a master of them.
“She also said everyone at this science festival will be a geek of some kind. You’re to dress the part.” Emmett shook his head. “I need you to be a handsome, sexy geek. There’s no way you can carry that off without help. Malene’s your only hope.”
Tate had sighed deeply and resisted pounding the arm of the chair he sat in. “Let her pack me a bag, but does she have to come with?”
“She does. She’s your master of disguise in case things go wrong and you need to escape without attracting notice. Malene can get you new IDs, new costumes, new identities by wiggling her little finger. You need her on-site this time.” Emmett looked amused at Tate’s discomfort.
“Then assign someone else for the fieldwork. Anyone else. Call Kendra back from her mommy leave. Tell her I need her. Offer to give her a nice bonus, whatever it takes.”
“And be slapped with a lawsuit?” Emmett’s eyes twinkled. “She’s not leaving her weeks-old baby to dash off to England, no matter what I offer her. I can guarantee that.
“This is a delicate operation. I need my best personnel on it and Malene is it.”
Tate had scowled. “How am I supposed to seduce a twenty-four-year RIOT agent with Mal watching my every move?”
For reasons he didn’t want to admit to, the thought made him uncomfortable, and he was anxious enough as it was. This mission was a conundrum wrapped in enigma.
“I doubt she’ll be watching you that closely,” Emmett had laughed. “Learn how to use a disguise. Get some fashion sense. And maybe next time I’ll think about letting you go solo.” And then Emmett had dismissed him, sending him to Research and Development to pick up his gizmos.
Tate had an uneasy feeling about this whole operation and setup. He believed in his sex appeal—he had as healthy a male ego as the next guy—but a college girl falling in love with his picture and file? It seemed a little too fantastic to him. It could happen, he supposed. But he didn’t trust RIOT. Were they behind this? And if so, what mayhem did they have up their sleeves?
The brass and intel and data crunchers at Langley had run through all the intelligence and data. Done thorough background checks. Sophia checked out in every regard. Her father had recently passed away. It was the perfect time to break away and escape RIOT’s death grip on her life.
If she was genuine, she was still taking a horrendous chance with her life. RIOT’s assassin squad, SMASH, would track her down and kill her no matter how long it took. She could live to be one hundred, and they wouldn’t give up. Was a life spent in constant fear of discovery worth living?
On the other hand, constant fear pretty much described a life in RIOT’s service. Maybe it was a wash.
However, if she was part of a plot by RIOT, what could they be up to? If they wanted him dead, it was easy enough to send a SMASH assassin to take him out. They didn’t need to lure him out with a girl. He knew intelligence secrets, true, but nothing he could think of that could be seduced out of him by a woman. They’d have to torture them out of him, and again, sending SMASH to kidnap him seemed like a more efficient plan. Neither he, nor Emmett, nor the director, nor any of the heads of departments could think of a reason to send a girl to get to him.
Tate could have refused the assignment. Emmett gave him every opportunity to turn it down, had even tried to talk him out of it. But the opportunity to get the one-time pad that would open up RIOT’s entire encrypting algorithm was too tempting to pass up.
“Tate!”
Hearing his name being called startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Mal wheeling a suitcase the size of a small travel-trailer behind her. Seeing her, his heart stopped. When it banged back into action, it beat infuriatingly fast.
She was dressed casually in a tight-fitting dark denim miniskirt, thick, opaque tights, ankle-high brown leather boots with a low heel, a loose cream blouse, a long, loopy gold necklace, and a loose, reddish-orange military style jacket with gold buttons and leather trim. Her blond hair fell in loose waves around her face. Her makeup was light, fresh, and natural-looking. Except for her lips, which were deep red-brown, moist and glossy, the very look and color he found so hot. The way they’d looked when they first met. Mal had the most kissable, perfect mouth—full and lush, with a delicate bow in the middle. She looked as if she were still in college herself. One of the hot college girls all the guys chased. Why hadn’t Emmett commanded her to deemphasize her looks, to shoot for dowdy?
Now he was going to have to tell her to tone it down and give her the satisfaction of thinking he found her even the slightest bit attractive. Damn his body for reacting to her. He wasn’t prepared for the impact a college-age Mal made on him. She looked so much like she had when they’d met. More updated college style, but still as young and tempting.
He tried not to scowl. Mal was the queen of putting together disguises and cover life personas. She could have downplayed her looks and gone for major nerd, too. But she’d let her pride get the better of her.
“Traveling light, I see.” He stood as she approached.
She arched a brow, which transformed her into a cynical thirty-three-year-old. Thank goodness. His attraction evaporated. This was the Mal he knew and didn’t love.
“Nice to see you, too, Dr. Stevens.” She leaned in and whispered to him, “Stop daydreaming and pay attention. We’re supposed to be undercover already.
“I called out to Dr. Stevens three times and only got your attention when I used your first name.”
“What can I say? I’m an absentminded prof. And I just decided—we’re casual at the university. First-name basis only.” He cut her off. He didn’t want her arguing.
“Works for me, Tate.” She took him in with the look of a tailor eyeing her work. Finally she shrugged and smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “You look good in nerd glasses and three-day growth.”
He appreciated not having to shave regularly. But he had perfect vision. He didn’t need the damn heavy black plastic-rimmed glasses. The frames interfered with his vision. He wouldn’t have worn them at all, but the tech department had outfitted them with a concealed camera and rearview coating that made them halfway acceptable.
“Where’s your bag?” she asked. “Have you
checked in already?” She smiled sweetly.
She’d picked out his suitcase, bought everything in it, packed it, and had it delivered to his place minutes before he had to leave for the airport. Worse yet—she’d locked and booby-trapped it so he wouldn’t tamper with it. There was no trust in the Agency. He pulled his luggage receipt from his pocket and waved it for her to see.
“Good. Now you can help me with my suitcase. It’s too heavy for me to lift onto the scale. I have our … research materials inside.” She wheeled it toward the check-in stand and got in line.
Tate followed her. He could hardly imagine all the torturous things she had in there. He was certain she was going to try to exact some kind of revenge on him for any number of perceived slights over the years.
They walked right up to the check-in counter. “Dr. Stevens? I mean, Tate.”
He sighed and hefted the behemoth onto the scale. The bag weighed more than it should have, even given its size. He hoped R&D hadn’t given her anything too dangerous.
The casual leather laptop bag he had slung over his shoulder housed a host of goodies. Two magazines of bullets were sewn into a clever hidden and shielded compartment. He also had a stash of gold coins and currency of various kinds in the false bottom. The handle contained two lethal, ceramic fighting knives. And, of course, he had his laptop, iPad, and iPod, along with an assortment of bugs and listening devices.
The baggage handler weighed Mal’s bag and charged her for the overage. Within a few minutes she was finished checking in, and they were on their way to the security checkpoint. Tate had a special air marshal waiver to get him through security. Mal was on her own.
They were supposed to be undercover, but as they walked side by side toward security, he had to ask about Kayla, innocuously, of course. “How’s the kid?”
“Great. She’s with my mom for the duration.”
Tate frowned. “Yeah, I heard.”
He leaned in and whispered in her ear at an angle none of the security cameras could catch to read his lips. “My mom wasn’t happy. She’d like her turn. Kay’s her only grandchild, probably stay that way, the least you could do is let her see Kayla once in a while. Take her off your hands for a few days. She and your mom could share.”
Tate was an expert at reading micro expressions, tiny, involuntary muscle movements that gave away emotions. Though Mal looked calm enough to the casual observer, she was pissed.
“You divorced me, not Mom,” he said.
Mal looked at him and rolled her eyes. “I wish. When I divorced you, I was hoping to be done with that witch.”
“Hey.” Tate grabbed her arm and stopped, pulling her around to face him. He was sure there were no cameras that could catch what they were saying. “Show a little respect. Kay and I are all the family Mom has. All she wants is a little time with her.”
Mal’s eyes narrowed. She glared at him. “And to turn her against me.
“I’m always the bad guy. The girl who stole her little boy from her. The evil villain who keeps her from her granddaughter.
“If she showed me some respect, I’d show her some. As it is, she’s threatening to petition the court for visitation rights. I suppose you put her up to that?”
He ran his hands through his hair. His mother could be a handful. She always had been. She and Mal had never gotten along, which put him in a horrible bind in the middle. “I tried to talk her out of that.”
Mal shot him a look that said she didn’t believe him.
He had tried. “I did.”
“Dr. Stevens, you say the most amusing things.” A look of hurt swept across her face. Then she pinched his cheek and kept walking.
Damn, he didn’t want to fight with her. He’d never wanted to fight with her. But she never understood that he’d promised his dad he’d take care of his mother, no matter what. And he’d never understood the rivalry between his mom and Mal. His mom was one of their irreconcilable differences.
He couldn’t fight with Mal now even if he had wanted to. In their cover story, Dr. Tate Stevens and Mallie Green got along famously, were a real team. He had to hustle to get back in step with her.
“Yeah, I’m a real card.”
They reached the security line.
“This is where we part company.” She smiled sweetly at him.
He wondered whether there was any way he could rig the security screening so she failed.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said as if she’d read his mind. “I have Emmett on speed dial and permission to use his red phone number.”
Shit.
“See you on the other side.” She winked at him and joined the line.
That woman was enjoying this way too much. He wondered what delights she’d filled his suitcase with. He knew that gleam in her eyes and it meant trouble—for him.
ALSO BY GINA ROBINSON
The Spy Who Left Me
Diamonds Are Truly Forever
Live and Let Love
Praise for Gina Robinson’s
DIAMONDS ARE TRULY FOREVER
“A fast-paced and exciting thriller. Jam-packed with funny dialogue and hot sex, Staci and Drew couldn’t be more different and yet so alike. Secrets, dead bodies, and pure good luck follow Staci wherever she goes. The characters are funny, loveable, and extremely clever with all their anecdotes. There’s never a dull moment … [this] is one book you definitely will NOT lose interest in; instead you will be unable to put the book down. Excellent and innovative read!”
—Fresh Fiction
“Readers are in for a fun, rollicking read with Diamonds Are Truly Forever and you’ll be chuckling at the funny scenes—and hoping that Drew and Staci get back together. Gina Robinson is a new author to me, but one I can’t wait to read more from. If you love a romantic suspense that is long on funny situations and romantic to boot, then you’ll love Diamonds Are Truly Forever.”
—Patti Fischer, Romance Reviews Today
LIVE AND LET LOVE
“Secret agents, mysterious identities, and a love that just won’t die make for a sweet, clever escape from reality.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Robinson’s action-packed tale doesn’t shy away from the fact that the hero is an assassin. Featuring plenty of interesting gadgets for spying and killing, as well as some delightful dogs—and a good dose of humor and suspense—this book ensures readers will race to the perfectly fitting finish.”
—Susan Mobley, RT Book Reviews, 4½ stars
“Gina is a talented writer … if you are a fan of her stories and you find a book gift card in your stocking, this book is worth adding to your wish list.”
—Night Owl Romance
THE SPY WHO LEFT ME
“This first Agent Ex novel is good, old-fashioned fun. Full of laughter, intrigue, and, of course, steamy spies, it’s a great weekend escape. Robinson knows how to balance a book with lighthearted romps and serious romance.”
—RT Book Reviews
“At times laugh-out-loud funny, Robinson’s foray into the world of James Bond has its poignant side, assuring that readers will be back for more.”
—Booklist
“Punctuated with Bond-worthy downhill car and bike chases and near-death surfing parties, Robinson’s clever concoction of lust and longing is a refreshing tropical cocktail.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Mystery, mayhem, sexy spies, and lots of laughter. Gina Robinson writes a damn good book!”
—Christie Craig, award-winning author
“The action is fast and furious and the plot twists turn on a dime. Ms. Robinson seamlessly adds humor to her story that will keep the reader laughing as things keep going wrong.”
—SingleTitles.com
“A hilariously brilliant romp into the world of espionage and intrigue. Ty and Treflee are amazingly sympathetic characters, and the world that Ms. Robinson has built for them to play in is dazzling and colorful. It isn’t much of a stretch for the reader to hear the native bir
ds sing and smell the coconut oil as they read this delightful novel!”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
“Firmly establishes Gina Robinson as one of today’s most exciting new authors of romantic suspense. It’s bold, it’s brassy, it’s full of spy-goodness with a wicked sense of humor that’ll leave you both shaken and stirred.”
—The Big Thrill
“Gina Robinson takes drama, comedy, and action and whips them together to make one delicious read!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gina Robinson has always been a storyteller—just ask her parents. An avid book lover, she grew up reading romance, mysteries, and suspense novels but, somehow, ended up majoring in Electrical Engineering at school. After marrying her college sweetheart, she began to write—software—for several large defense contractors. Eventually Gina gave up the glamorous engineering life for the equally glamorous life of a stay-at-home mom, somehow finding time to write a novel about villains with guns, handsome strangers, and mail-order brides. The book won several awards for unpublished manuscripts but, so far, remains unpublished. Her first published novels, Spy Candy and Spy Games, received rave reviews, establishing Gina Robinson as one of today’s most exciting new authors of romantic suspense.
You can visit her website at www.ginarobinson.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
LICENSE TO LOVE
Copyright © 2013 by Gina Robinson.
Excerpt from Love Another Day copyright © 2013 by Gina Robinson.
All rights reserved.