claimed guardianship of a scared eight-year-old child. From that day on, Victoria had traveled the world as his daughter, received an amazing education, and learned hard lessons about the rest of the world.
And now she worked for him as an operative for Echelon Shield. And her next assignment involved the one man who’d ever gotten under her skin. The one who had left her six months ago without an explanation.
* * * *
Victoria carried a small bag when she boarded a prop plane and settled in for the flight from D.C. to the Louisiana coast. Amine hadn’t divulged how he’d garnered the invitation to Evenson’s soirée. However, when investigating a potential threat, every conceivable connection was explored. In this case, Evenson and his friends had a taste for decadence—high priced decadence. Her cover was simple—an American escort sent to entertain a group of influential men. Victoria knew where they applied their influence. Government contracts, Wall Street, world financial markets. Men with unscrupulous morals allowed American investors to provide funding and technology for the right price.
Maxwell Evenson was above suspicion. Elite Washington insiders, governors, and billionaire tycoons considered him a friend. The intel from Echelon Shield had information that showed otherwise. Maxwell Evenson was only loyal to himself. Frank Amine knew the mogul was corrupt and he’d sent in an operative to gather the hard evidence.
Taking a deep breath, Victoria rolled over the agenda in her mind. Ascertain Jaron’s condition, determine if the mission was salvageable, and if so, she was to assist Jaron in any way possible. The devil lay in the details. Jaron, with his sexy southern drawl, hard disciplined body, and mind like a steel trap would take those orders and exploit them. Victoria simply needed to keep her mind open and, when it came to Jaron, her legs closed.
From the moment the plane touched down at the small airstrip, Victoria was in character. The plane door opened to the heavy, muggy Louisiana humidity. Tory, as she’d think of herself from this point forward, tucked her hair behind her ear and pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
With a definite swing to her step, she disembarked and crossed the tarmac to the waiting limousine. Deep easy breaths. Relax. This was no different from the dozens of other assignments she’d taken over the years.
Normally, she was very sure of herself and her abilities. Normal didn’t include Jaron. The only difference was that Jaron’s life might be in her hands. She just hoped her hand didn’t tremble when she met Maxwell Evenson.
An intimidating man with a military flattop, thick neck, and large hands took her bag. He handed the bag to another gentleman, who didn’t appear quite as friendly. “Search it, Ray.” Ray set her bag on the hood of the stretch and rummaged through her belongings. She wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t find anything.
“Remove your sunglasses.” Security for Maxwell Evenson obviously didn’t waste words.
Tory brought her hand up with deliberate slowness to keep his eyes tracking her movements. She grazed her breast then higher until she took the tortoise shell frames from her face, letting them dangle from her fingers. Blinking against the bright sunshine, she let a provocative smile tilt her lips as she bit on the edge of the sunglasses. A coy play of seduction she’d mastered.
The man’s posture eased. “Sorry, Miss Tory, but I need to search you.”
Tory put her hands akimbo and jutted her hips to the left. “Make it good and I’ll add my fee to Mr. Evenson’s bill.” She winked as he ran his hands over her figure. “Not too fast.” Wearing tight clothing, anyone else might have had a hard time hiding a weapon, but she wasn’t an average escort and she never went into an unknown situation unarmed.
The man took his job seriously. Starting at her shoulders and slowly working his way down her body, he touched
And now she worked for him as an operative for Echelon Shield. And her next assignment involved the one man who’d ever gotten under her skin. The one who had left her six months ago without an explanation.
* * * *
Victoria carried a small bag when she boarded a prop plane and settled in for the flight from D.C. to the Louisiana coast. Amine hadn’t divulged how he’d garnered the invitation to Evenson’s soirée. However, when investigating a potential threat, every conceivable connection was explored. In this case, Evenson and his friends had a taste for decadence—high priced decadence. Her cover was simple—an American escort sent to entertain a group of influential men. Victoria knew where they applied their influence. Government contracts, Wall Street, world financial markets. Men with unscrupulous morals allowed American investors to provide funding and technology for the right price.
Maxwell Evenson was above suspicion. Elite Washington insiders, governors, and billionaire tycoons considered him a friend. The intel from Echelon Shield had information that showed otherwise. Maxwell Evenson was only loyal to himself. Frank Amine knew the mogul was corrupt and he’d sent in an operative to gather the hard evidence.
Taking a deep breath, Victoria rolled over the agenda in her mind. Ascertain Jaron’s condition, determine if the mission was salvageable, and if so, she was to assist Jaron in any way possible. The devil lay in the details. Jaron, with his sexy southern drawl, hard disciplined body, and mind like a steel trap would take those orders and exploit them. Victoria simply needed to keep her mind open and, when it came to Jaron, her legs closed.
From the moment the plane touched down at the small airstrip, Victoria was in character. The plane door opened to the heavy, muggy Louisiana humidity. Tory, as she’d think of herself from this point forward, tucked her hair behind her ear and pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
With a definite swing to her step, she disembarked and crossed the tarmac to the waiting limousine. Deep easy breaths. Relax. This was no different from the dozens of other assignments she’d taken over the years.
Normally, she was very sure of herself and her abilities. Normal didn’t include Jaron. The only difference was that Jaron’s life might be in her hands. She just hoped her hand didn’t tremble when she met Maxwell Evenson.
An intimidating man with a military flattop, thick neck, and large hands took her bag. He handed the bag to another gentleman, who didn’t appear quite as friendly. “Search it, Ray.” Ray set her bag on the hood of the stretch and rummaged through her belongings. She wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t find anything.
“Remove your sunglasses.” Security for Maxwell Evenson obviously didn’t waste words.
Tory brought her hand up with deliberate slowness to keep his eyes tracking her movements. She grazed her breast then higher until she took the tortoise shell frames from her face, letting them dangle from her fingers. Blinking against the bright sunshine, she let a provocative smile tilt her lips as she bit on the edge of the sunglasses. A coy play of seduction she’d mastered.
The man’s posture eased. “Sorry, Miss Tory, but I need to search you.”
Tory put her hands akimbo and jutted her hips to the left. “Make it good and I’ll add my fee to Mr. Evenson’s bill.” She winked as he ran his hands over her figure. “Not too fast.” Wearing tight clothing, anyone else might have had a hard time hiding a weapon, but she wasn’t an average escort and she never went into an unknown situation unarmed.
The man took his job seriously. Starting at her shoulders and slowly working his way down her body, he touched
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