Special Agent Carter Langford wants to turn the unassuming Jayne Travers into an asset. Jayne has some wants of her own. She agrees to give Carter total access to the Blakestone Corporation where she works, in exchange for total access to him. They begin a very open, transparent and physical relationship, but Jayne is hiding the fact she has her own plans to bring the Blakestone Corporation down.
Excerpt:
Jayne turned back to the stranger. “What?”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you seem upset.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “It’s just that my boss is a horrible person. The defense contractor I work for—the things they do—the weapons they make—it all makes me literally sick.” She put a hand to her stomach, and then to her temple, which had begun to throb and ache. She covered her mouth. What was she thinking, talking to a stranger? And then it hit her. Her hand dropped away. “You’re attractive,” she blurted.
His smile backlit his eyes. She took in the rest of him. He was solidly built, broad-shouldered, and strong. He wore a suit, but his tie was yanked down, and the top button of his dress shirt was undone, like he couldn’t wait to get out of it to do something that would make him sweat.
“You’re not attractive,” she corrected herself. “You’re extremely attractive.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said.
“They warned me specifically about this during the interview process at Blakestone. I mean specifically me. They told me if an attractive person approaches me, it’s my clearance and my position as Mr. Blakestone’s assistant they’re interested in, not me.” Her voice sounded bitter.
“Most men wouldn’t give you a second look,” he agreed.
She gasped.
“But I’m not most men,” he added. “You don’t stand out. That blouse and skirt are two sizes too big. You might as well be wearing a flour sack. But I can see enough to know you’re not voluptuous by any stretch, but you’ve got the kind of classic proportions a sculptor would die for. You don’t wear makeup or jewelry. But… May I?” he asked, pointing at her glasses. He slid them carefully off the bridge of her nose. “You have beautiful eyes. I don’t think an artist could even name all those colors.” He slid the glasses back up. “You have delicate features. Silky hair, the color of wheat, which if you took out of that prim little bun would frame your face like it was meant to. You’re like a masterpiece in the corner of a gallery that isn’t given the light or attention it deserves.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wondered how an artist would paint that. “You can stop wasting my time and yours. I know what you want,” Jayne hissed.
The stranger let out a long sigh and gave her a smile that was half a frown and all wistful.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It could have been fun.” He stood up and looked down at her, and gave her the once-over. “Just so you know, I wasn’t lying.”
She turned her head away. A sudden breeze stole more leaves from the trees, turning them into bony skeletons. She shivered in her blouse and skirt which, as he had said, were two sizes too big.
“May I?” he asked. She didn’t deny him because she didn’t know what he was asking for until he bent and very softly kissed her cheek. He made a temporary buffer against the wind and, as he began to pull away, the autumn air seemed twice as cold.
She grabbed hold of his arm, and he raised his eyebrows.
“I told you I know what you want,” she said so only he could hear it. “I didn’t say no.”
****
It was hard to surprise Carter Langford. Jayne Travers had managed it a few times already in their brief encounter. He’d read her file, and nothing in it had prepared him for what she was like in real life. It’s true, she wasn’t stunning, but there was something about her. He sat down on the bench again, closer to her this time, but not touching.
“What is it that you want exactly?” she asked in a business-like tone.
There were so many ways he wanted to answer that open-ended question. “Total access to Blakestone and their dealings. As complete as you can get us. Contacts, bank records, conversations, files.”
“Are you the good guys or bad guys?”
“I think we’re the good guys, but not everyone would agree,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter to me either way. As long as Charles Blakestone gets hurt, I don’t care who does the hurting.”
He tilted his head and considered her. “Why the grudge?”
“I’m assuming you know my background?”
He shrugged in answer. He had glanced at her file. Her favorite cereal was granola. She read exclusively romance novels and watched nothing but romantic movies. She had zero friends. And he could count the number of family members she had on one finger: a brother who had served in the military. He knew from what he’d just heard that she called him often. And it seemed the brother never returned the calls. Carter hadn’t bothered digging too deep. He wasn’t going to spend more time on her unless he could turn her into an asset. But now it looked like he’d be spending more time with her, and it was a prospect that appealed to him. There were worse ways to gather intelligence.
“You know where I’m from,” she continued. “You know Blakestone opened his first factory there before he took it offshore. It’s a small town. There wasn’t a person who didn’t work for him or wasn’t related to someone who did. He ruined the lives of a lot of people.”
“And what do you want in return for the information you give us?” Carter asked, staring at her intently.
“Total access.”
“To what?”
“To you.”
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