Undercover Wife

Frowning her confusion, Erin followed him to the waiting Jeep. Mexico? What was in Mexico? she wondered. The mission, obviously, judging by his brisk determination to get the show on the road. She glanced around once more. The area was desolate. No houses, not even a gas station. She tried to calculate how long they’d been in the air, but couldn’t since she wasn’t sure what time they’d left the prison. Four or five hours, she supposed.

Logan had awakened her a few minutes before the pilot had started the descent. He’d suggested she have some coffee and use the facilities since they were in for a long ride when they hit the ground. Erin had obediently complied. The coffee had been to die for. If Logan had made it, he was a true master. Sweet rolls had also been available, but Erin had opted not to start the day off with a sugar rush. Then again, she eyed the alien surroundings once more, maybe she should have. She climbed into the back seat of the Jeep and suddenly felt utterly empty. But she was pretty sure the emptiness had more to do with anxiety than hunger.

She was in deep trouble here. Was her freedom really worth coming to a foreign country to help in an unknown capacity on a very dangerous secret mission? She remembered quite clearly, he’d said very dangerous. What if these guys weren’t even government agents? What if the credentials were fakes? Fear mushroomed inside her, making her chest tight. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Well, it was a little late to be considering turning back now. Logan had said that once she boarded that plane there was no going back. Though she’d known him less than twenty-four hours, she had the distinct impression he didn’t say anything he didn’t mean.

Her heart thudded harder, sending a new rush of adrenaline through her. Running wasn’t an option. She surveyed the desolate area once more. They’d catch her easily and even if by some stroke of luck they didn’t, she’d never survive long enough to find her way to civilization. Camping skills had never been her strong suit. Her sense of direction was nonexistent and she didn’t have a clue how to locate water in the desert or how to ignite a fire by rubbing sticks together. She was a city girl through and through.

The man who’d driven the SUV swung behind the wheel of the Jeep. “Here we go, then,” he offered in a tone far too chipper for the occasion. Erin saw no levity whatsoever in the situation. She was likely going to die very soon and there was nothing she could do about it since she was still a prisoner with no rights—and these two men were her new guards.

Logan slid a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses into place and said something to the driver that she couldn’t quite hear over the noisy engine. The driver nodded and pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Clutching the seat to keep from bouncing out of the vehicle, Erin studied John Logan for the first time. She’d been too shocked when they initially met at the prison to give him more than a cursory once-over, then it had been dark in the SUV on the way to the airport. Promptly falling asleep in flight had been nice, but had left her no time to consider the man who now basically owned her soul.

He was handsome. She’d noticed that before. Morning stubble further darkened his chiseled jaw, adding to his aura of danger. His skin was deeply tanned. She wondered if he spent most of his time in this type of climate. With his shirt sleeves rolled up she could see well-muscled forearms indicating strength. He was tall. She’d guess in the neighborhood of six-one or -two. Lean frame. He didn’t say a lot, at least not to her. But when he did speak his voice was deep, resonate. Commanding, yet not harsh.

His hair was cut in one of those short styles where it swept up and back nicely without any help from designer mousse or styling gel. He had good hair. Silky, but full-bodied. She inclined her head for a better view of his broad shoulders. Wide and strong. Dependable yet—

He looked directly at her as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. Startled, she sucked in a harsh breath. He couldn’t have heard her, but he removed his shades and glanced down at her chest as if he had. His gaze lingered there, making her pulse react, before moving slowly back up to her face.

“Is there something on your mind, Bailey?”

She shook her head, then shouted over the wind and engine noise, “I’m fine.”

He stared at her for two beats longer before turning away. Erin closed her eyes then and released the breath she’d been holding. She would be stronger than this. No way could she let his every word and every look rattle her. She had to be ready for whatever this mission required of her. This was her only chance to get her life back. No matter how dangerous, she had to make it.

Going back to that prison was not an option.

“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” Erin asked, her voice sounding oddly loud after the two-hour trip with nothing but the grind and growl of the Jeep’s engine.

The driver had parked the Jeep outside what looked like an ancient city, then disappeared inside its walls. Erin lifted an eyebrow in skepticism as she scanned the crumbling buildings once more. Ruins would be a more apt description than city. Her history and geography were a little rusty, but she recognized the architecture was far from contemporary in any sense of the word.

“Let’s go, Bailey.”

Startled, she looked around to find Logan waiting outside the Jeep for her. He offered his hand. Still stunned or maybe numb, she accepted, allowing him to help her down from the vehicle. His hand felt warm around hers. Warm and steady. Something she needed desperately at the moment.

“What is this place?” she asked again, her curiosity definitely piqued.

“For the next six days it’s home,” he told her without actually telling her anything at all.

When he would have started forward, she snagged him by the arm. His skin felt hot beneath her fingers. She quickly jerked her hand back and flexed her tingling fingers, struggling to remember what she’d intended to say.

“What now?” he groused, frowning down at her from behind those infernal glasses.

She dragged her gaze back to the village before them. That was it. The place looked like an ancient village fallen upon hard times, deserted by its people. “How did you find this place?” She looked back up at him for the good it did with those dark lenses shielding his eyes. “Is this where the mission takes place?” She shook her head then. “None of this makes any sense. I don’t understand.” She gestured vaguely to the village. “What does this have to do with national security?”

He removed the glasses, tucked them into his shirt pocket and leveled that dark as midnight gaze on her. “This is our temporary training post.” He nodded in the direction of the throng of mud huts and rustic stucco buildings. “The governor of Chiapas lent it to us because he owed my deputy director a favor. We have everything we need here. Now come on.” He urged her forward. “I’ll give you the grand tour. Then we’ll eat.” He glanced down at her, his eyebrow arched in clear skepticism this time. “You’re going to need your strength. Lesson one starts this afternoon.”

Erin followed Logan into what looked like a deserted building. A command post had been set up in the dilapidated chapel in the center of the village. Satellite communications—as well as older, less technically advanced radio-transmission systems—were in place. Two computers were up and running, linked to the Net. A massive generator provided the needed power.

There was what Logan called a mess hall and a physical training room. The bathing facilities weren’t glamorous, but they had hot running water, soap and shampoo. What more could a girl on a dangerous mission ask for? Might as well look on the bright side, she told herself, rallying her make-the-best-of-it spirit.

Six of the smaller buildings had been prepared for lodging, Logan explained as they approached the first one of the group. “This one,” he told her, “is yours.” Then he pointed to the hut directly in front of hers. “I’ll be there.”

She poked her head inside the room he’d indicated as hers and was pleasantly surprised by the small but comfortable-looking cot. “It’s better than I expected,” she admitted as she turned back to him. “I was certain there’d be a sleeping bag on the ground in there.” She tried for a smile, but didn’t quite make it. She was just too tired and this was all far too overwhelming to work up enough enthusiasm no matter how hard she wanted to.

But it’s real, she kept telling herself. And she was free. That’s all that mattered, right?

Erin glanced around at the dozen or so armed men moving about. Well, maybe free wasn’t precisely the right word.

“After I’ve evaluated your strengths and weaknesses, we’ll move on to the finer details you’ll need for this mission.”

Here she was, way down in Mexico, right next to Guatemala if memory served her correctly, and she hadn’t a clue why she was here. “Can you tell me more about the mission?” A girl could ask, she mused.

“This way, Bailey,” he offered in reply, smoothly changing the course of the conversation, as well as her little sight-seeing tour.

The next building they entered was one of the largest and very dimly lit. An oily smell she couldn’t readily identify hit her nostrils with the first breath she took. She squinted to better make out the boxes stacked around the room. Crates, she realized, wooden crates. Logan paused at the first one of three she counted. She peered inside. Instinctively she drew back at what she saw.

Guns. Lots of guns.

“M9 Personal Defense Weapon,” Logan announced as he displayed one of the mean-looking guns from the crate. “Weapon of choice in personal defense.”

“M4 Carbine,” he went on, putting the first one aside and reaching for another, seemingly oblivious to her appalled expression. “Lightweight, magazine fed, selective rate, shoulder fired weapon. Even in tight quarters, a target can be engaged at extended range with accurate, lethal fire. Every terrorist’s wet dream.”

“Wait!” Erin backed away another step, her heart beginning to hammer. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me about these weapons?”

Tears welled unbidden. This was insane and what was worse she was going to cry. She hated crying. It made her feel weak. “I don’t know anything about guns or terrorists or even personal defense.” She lengthened the distance between them by another step, blinking furiously to hold back the infuriating tears. “Just tell me the truth, Logan. What am I doing here?” She flung her arm toward the weapons he appeared to gloat over. “What is all this?”

His glare was as lethal as the weapon he held in those strong, too capable hands. “This,” he ground out, “is just a taste of what you need to know.” He put down the weapon and started in her direction. She wanted to run, but froze instead. Those dark, dark eyes held her in a kind of trance. “You have six days, Bailey. Six days to learn what I have to teach you. And this is only scratching the surface. Then we go in, ready or not.”

She trembled. “What if…what if I can’t do it?” She couldn’t. She was suddenly as sure of it as she’d ever been of anything in her whole life. This was impossible. She couldn’t do this. Not for freedom, not for vengeance, not for anything.

Logan stopped mere inches from her, staring down at her with a face wiped clean of emotion. Her pulse thundered with the fear exploding inside her.

“Then you have six days to live,” he said quietly, so damned quietly she wanted to scream. “Because on the seventh, we’ll both be dead.”

Chapter Three

She’d slowed down considerably. Logan resisted the urge to slow his own pace. She had to keep up or at least attempt to. Even if he had the luxury of time, which he didn’t, there was no place in any of this for misguided sympathies or regrets. She’d signed on to do this despite the numerous opportunities he’d given her to change her mind, opportunities he’d had no authority to give. But he’d needed to be sure.

For five days now he had pushed Erin Bailey hard. She’d held up far better than he’d expected, but it was catching up to her now. Again he forced away the need to look over his shoulder and check on her. Five days and he still hadn’t concluded his evaluation, was far from certain about anything. Sure, she managed to scrape by physically. She’d obviously been a runner before checking into Atlanta’s premiere federal resort. But holding up physically wouldn’t be enough. She had to be able to take the mental pressure.

He clenched his jaw and commanded his body to move forward, his long legs eating up the ground beneath him as his second wind kicked in, sending endorphins rushing through his veins. The hot desert sand sucked at his running shoes while the scorching morning sun milked the sweat from him, but he ignored both. He banished images of Erin Bailey’s struggle to keep up. She spent entirely too much unnecessary time in his head lately. He didn’t want to think about her as a person…only her ability to perform as his partner and the mission.

The mission…nothing else mattered.

“I can’t go any farther.”

Logan wanted desperately to disregard the feeble cry that came from some ten meters behind him. He wanted this mission over, wanted to pretend that certain death wasn’t lurking a mere forty-eight hours away. He slowed to a stop, braced his hands on his hips and took a moment to catch his breath, to compose himself really, before double-timing it back to where Bailey had stalled. She was bent over at the waist, her palms resting on her knees for support. He didn’t have to look to know that her arms and legs would be quivering with weakness. He’d pushed her harder today than the last two put together.