How Spy I Am by Diane Henders Page B

slide the
spec sheet for the Legacy onto his desk.
    He scanned the paper
and nodded. “Good choice. I’ll have it delivered to your farm.”
    “Thanks,” I muttered,
and hurried out before anything could go wrong.
    I was sitting at my
desk reading the dossier on my sleazy new cover identity when
Spider stuck his head in the doorway.
    “How’s it going?” he
inquired.
    I groaned. “Could
Stemp possibly have come up with anything cheesier? I’m sure he’s
just torturing me for fun. How did he think up all this crap,
anyway?”
    I looked up to see
Spider’s face flush scarlet. “Um,” he said. “Sorry. Um… that was
probably my fault. Sorry.”
    “ You thought
this up?”
    “No!” His flush
deepened. “No, I’d never do that to you! No, what I meant was,
Stemp assigned me to dig up plausible details for a new cover for
you, and I thought the best way to do it would be to run a quick
facial recognition search on the web to see if there were any close
matches I could work with or get ideas from…”
    “Which was smart,” I
interrupted. “Fuzzy Bunny is doing that, too. But their facial
recognition program doesn’t seem to be as good as yours.”
    “No, mine is really
good,” he agreed. “But then it started popping up all those
videos.” He turned even redder and concentrated on his shoe as it
scuffed at the carpet.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“I… looked at the first one… before I realized what it was.
Sorry.”
    And I’d thought I’d
been embarrassed by the whole porn star cover. Poor Spider.
    “It’s okay,” I
reassured him. “It’s not really me. The woman is just a construct.
Harchman must have built the sim using footage of me from the
security cameras. With a few modifications…” I bit off the
conclusion of my sentence: ‘…like boobs the size of volleyballs.’
Spider probably didn’t want to think about that.
    “I know it’s not
really you, I know you’d never… That guy is so…” He trailed off,
still blushing furiously. “But… it’s just…” He met my eyes, his
young face tight with anger. “It’s not fair! That’s so gross,
having people think it’s you! Stemp made me find what all those
creepster guys were saying online about you, and that’s how he
built the dossier. It just sucks! After everything you’ve done for
us!”
    Somehow his outrage
made me feel better. “It’s okay,” I repeated. “It’s better to be
sleazy and safe than virtuous and dead. I think. Anyway, at least
I’m going to get a cool new car.”
    His face relaxed into
a smile. “Trust you to find a silver lining.”

    When I turned into my
lane after work, my heart rose at the sight of Hellhound lounging
against his SUV. Perfect. A bit of hot distraction was exactly what
I needed right now.
    I parked and strolled
over, eyeing him appreciatively. He limped over to pull me into his
arms at the front porch and the heat of his lingering kiss caused
global warming in the tropical wetlands.
    “Goddamn, I needed
that,” he rumbled, grinning.
    “Me, too. And that’s
not all I need.” I tugged him toward the steps. “Come on in.”
    His knowing hands slid
over my ass as I climbed the stairs ahead of him, sending a rush of
hot lust through me. I shot a grin over my shoulder and unlocked
the door, my spirits soaring in anticipation of a long, delicious
night.
    Inside, I waited for
him to remove his boots before linking my arms around his neck to
press close. He dropped a kiss on my forehead and gently disengaged
my arms, reaching into his pocket for his scanner. I blew out a
sigh of resignation and stepped back while he began the entire
scanning process over again.
    At last, Hellhound
limped into the living room to sprawl on the couch. “All clear,
darlin’, ‘cept for the locator ya got in your change purse.”
    I stared at him. “How
did you know about that?”
    “Webb told me this
afternoon.”
    “Good.” I straddled
his lap and kissed him, running my hands over his chest.