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  She poured bottled water into the plastic cups and put them on the tray. “Feeling better?"

  The question was innocent enough, but they all knew what she and Matt had been up to in the bathroom. By now, the whole flight crew would know, too.

  "Yes ... thank you ... I got just what I needed."

  The comment brought a smirk to Nikki's lips. As she placed the coffee beside the waters, she gave Allie a wink. Then she was on to the rows behind them.

  Allie fished ice from the cups and placed it in the hot coffees. Amazing the routine she and Matt had fallen into after so short an acquaintance. She wondered what it would be like ... Nope, don't go there.

  Leaving the coffee to cool, she eased back into her seat with her water. A news program had started after the movie. They were running a piece about Sumner. While the images that flashed across the screen told a story of their own, she found herself wishing she could hear the commentary that went along with it. Too bad she'd never learned to read lips. The extra insight into the man might be helpful. She focused instead on those in the background of the shots, noting faces for future reference.

  Allie was in mid-sip when a shot from a surveillance camera popped up. Though altered for public broadcast, she had no trouble recognizing it—that fateful encounter between her and Matt ... the one where he'd fucked her against the wall while Sumner and his men looked on. She choked on her water.

  Matt snapped upright.

  "You all right?"

  The question came in unison from him and Nikki. Allie nodded, while she coughed and blotted tears from her eyes. Looking at Matt, she shot a side glance toward the monitor. A frown pulled his gaze that way, but the piece on Sumner had already ended. She was forced to wait until the attendants moved further down the aisle, and she recovered, before she could tell him. Even then, she darted a glance around to make sure they weren't overheard.

  "Someone released that video of us in the hallway from the train,” she whispered.

  Matt's frown deepened. His lips thinned. His muttered, “Fuck” said it all. Wrapping his hand around his coffee cup, he sank back into his seat. There wasn't anything they could do about it until they landed, if they could do anything then.

  She thought about the possibility of them slipping off to the lavatory to talk. Considering their earlier rendezvous, she doubted Nikki and her co-workers would be as tolerant this time around. They could be arrested the second their feet left the jetway. They didn't need attention turned their way.

  The video wasn't the best quality. Maybe no one would recognize them. Allie closed her eyes. It was clear enough. As many times as it'd be shown on news broadcasts, someone would notice. It would help to know the commentary that went with it. Were their fake IDs used, or had someone made them? That had been close to happening at the time when Gordie Kidwell's ex-wife had exploded onto the scene. In her quest to get even with her ex-husband, Eva told Sumner that Gordie was FBI. Then the bitch had pointed her finger at Allie and outed her as FBI, too. If it weren't for Matt's quick thinking, they'd all be dead right now.

  Matt reached over and squeezed her fingers. She blessed him for not spewing false hope. He knew as well as she did this could go either way. Those instincts so ingrained in each of them, that bond they'd instantly formed, was going to be getting a real workout.

  She turned his way. “Bob and weave, bob and weave."

  He laughed lightly and raised his cup. “I'll toast to that one."

  They clinked cups and slugged down a gulp.

  CHAPTER 3

  There was some saving grace to being in a crowded airport—everyone was too busy rushing to the next destination to notice anyone else. No one paid much attention to Matt and Allie as they waited for their luggage at the baggage carousel. That might change the more circulation the video clip received. Matt sure wished he'd caught the earlier viewing so he could know just how bad it was. But if it was enough to make Allie go pale, they'd have to do some fancy maneuvering to keep from getting screwed or, worse yet, killed.

  On the surface it looked like things were going according to plan. Both their bosses stood by the exit doors, waiting for them. Dressed in dark suits, hands clasping wrists before them, they looked like chauffeurs waiting for clients. They could have been mirror images, except for the fact Herb Walker was black and Bob James was so white everyone always teased that he had ice in his veins. Both were bald.

  Once inside the waiting vehicle, they would hand over everything Matt and Allie needed to assume their false identities. In turn, he and she would give the trappings of their real lives to the men. From Los Angeles, they'd drive the couple to Las Vegas, where Matt and Allie would board the plane to JFK under their new names. The four-hour drive would also give them time for an updated briefing.

  Matt couldn't tell if the stern looks on the men's faces were part of the role they now presented, or if they'd seen the video and knew all hell was about to break loose if they didn't nip this in the bud.

  "Oh ... shit."

  Matt looked Allie's way at her barely perceptible comment. She was frowning at her open cell phone. She snapped the device closed and jerked her chin up.

  "My mom. Ten guesses what her phone call was about. She has very sharp eyes, and she never misses the news."

  Matt plucked his phone from his jeans pocket. Sure enough, his mother had called. He shoved it back in his pocket. Once they reached the vehicle, both phones would be in Bob's and Herb's possession. He and Allie could lie and eventually tell their mothers they were undercover when their calls came through. The families were used to things like that. Their personal cells were monitored in their absence in the event of family emergencies. This was no different, no voice mail, just a call. They would have been noted and deleted.

  Allie nudged against him. “I wouldn't recommend ignoring them. While you might be able to get away with it, mine knows I'm supposed to be on vacation. We need to suck it up and deal with it now, or it'll be nibbling away at the corners of our minds when we should be focusing on the job."

  It continued to amaze him that she knew his mind so well. That's what was going to get them through this. “They could be calling for no particular reason."

  The look she gave him suggested otherwise and that they both knew better.

  Matt pulled in a sigh. “Let's wait to get the full scoop from Bob and Herb before we call them back. There's your last bag.” He hauled the green zippered bag off the conveyor as it neared.

  Allie extended the handles on the remaining wheeled bags. Each taking two, they headed for the exit.

  Bob and Herb did no more than nod before leading them out and onto the shuttle taking them to the parking area. Wedged in as they were on the bus, talking was out of the question. They made eye contact with no one save each other, but Matt couldn't help wondering how many others on the bus where looking at him and Allie, trying to place them. He listened for whispered conversations, snickers, or gasps of shock and heard nothing.

  Finally, they reached a dark green Durango. This time Herb and Bob took possession of the luggage, stowing it in the rear of the SUV, while Matt and Allie slipped into the back seats. The senior agents then took the front, shutting their doors, and turning toward them in perfect synchronicity.

  Matt held up a hand before either of them could speak. “Who leaked the video of us?"

  They exchanged a look before Bob answered. “It surfaced on the internet a few days ago on sex sites. Apparently, the bartender on Sumner's train made duplicate copies of the tape before it was seized and has been offering it for download sales ever since. Somehow the news media got hold of it."

  Allie leaned forward. “I caught a glimpse of it on the plane, but couldn't near the commentary that went with it. Matt hasn't seen it at all."

  Herb's deep brown eyes focused exclusively on her. Judging from the sympathy Matt saw in them, he had the feeling they weren't going to get good news.

  "At first broadcasters were using it as an example of
the lifestyle Sumner led and the lengths he'd go to monitor activities within his realm. There were hints of other tapes surfacing of higher profile people. Neither of you were identified. However...” His gaze never shifted, but his shoulders lifted and fell on a sigh. “News people soon recognized others on the tape as men arrested with Sumner, as well as the couple taken to the hospital—Gordon and Eva Kidwell. Friends and family of the Kidwells have verified Gordon as being Eva's husband, confirmed their belief he is FBI, and that their name is Kidwell."

  Allie closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “And since Eva swore I was also a special agent..."

  "It's only a matter of time before it comes out. I'm afraid you're off the case,” Herb answered.

  A breath pulled her eyes open. “And where does that leave Matt?"

  "Exactly where he'd be without you,” Bob answered. “His identity isn't at risk, just yours. Having you along with him was just an added perk. It doesn't matter to the overall mission. In fact, after seeing the video ... and other things..."

  "What other things?” Matt demanded to know. As far as he knew, Sumner's private railcar in which “other things” took place wasn't set up with video surveillance.

  "I'm referring to your little Hawaiian sex-fest,” Bob snapped.

  Matt narrowed his gaze. The son-of-a-bitch had had them watched, followed. He and Allie had been led to believe they were in a safe environment. They'd been too wrapped up in each other to consider their own people had lied to them.

  "You've got years invested in the Sumner case, Matt.” Bob sounded like he was trying to placate an unruly child. “While we appreciated your need to get away for a bit until things died down and Sumner made his next move, we certainly didn't want to risk anything happening to you. Of course we had you followed. Is there anyplace the two of you won't have sex?"

  "Pretty much ... no.” It was a smart-assed response, but Matt couldn't help it. “But then you suspected that before you agreed to me leaving, didn't you? Were you all just trying to see how good we really got along, or did you think a couple of days of hot fucking would clear my head enough to get locked onto the job?"

  Both men had the decency to look away. Looked like Matt had hit the nail on the head—he and Allie had been played from the start, more or less.

  "When did you decide to hook us up?” he asked.

  Bob coughed into his fist. “After we saw the video of you two doing it up against the wall and Gordie told us about the subsequent incident in Sumner's private car. We realized what a unique distraction something like that created. You're both single. We wanted you real comfortable with each other—"

  "Hoping to use us for future jobs,” Allie finished for him.

  Neither confirmed or denied the allegation.

  She snorted. “And here I was expecting a reprimand of some sort, not what amounts to your blessing. I trust you were all pleased with our exuberant and inventive exploration of one another? Will those encounters wind up for sale on the internet, too?"

  Embarrassment flushed their faces.

  "Well, we certainly can't let your valiant subterfuge go to waste. I'm going back in with Matt."

  "Your identity—"

  "We'll use it to our advantage,” Matt interrupted. “Keep Sumner guessing what she's up to. Give me Matteo Lombardi's cell. I'm going to call him."

  "Everything's in a pouch under the seat,” Herb said.

  Matt reached beneath him. His hand went straight to it. One yank pulled the pouch free from the tape. He zipped it open, pulled out the cell, and handed the pouch to Allie to retrieve the rest of the phony documentation.

  One press of a button had Sumner's phone ringing. He answered halfway through the second ring.

  "Teo ... how good to hear from you."

  Matt didn't waste time. “What the hell's going on, boss? Nothing I hate more than waking up with my coffee and seeing myself on national TV. I pray to God my mother didn't see it and recognize me. I'm beginning to feel set up."

  "Not by me, my friend. I believe your lady friend might not be who she says she is.” Sumner's tone was smooth, calm, cultured, never once giving any hint of the alarm Matt knew he was feeling.

  "What are you saying? That"—he racked his brain for the name Gordie had used while undercover—"that Little's wife was right?"

  "She was right about him, Teo. I must conclude she's right about our lovely call girl."

  "Not possible, boss.” Matt let his mind run with a plan. “I've been with her every day since then. She sure doesn't act or talk like anyone other than who she claims."

  He could hear Sumner's sharp intake of breath over the phone and could almost see his nostrils flaring as the man stared down the bridge of his nose. “She's a loose end that must be dealt with, Teo. I expect you to do so."

  "And Little and his bitch wife?"

  "Beyond my reach ... for the moment. Trust that it's an issue we'll handle at the earliest possible opportunity."

  Matt let silence stand between them for a few heartbeats. “I think you're wrong about her, boss."

  "I never thought you'd be the type to be led by the cock, Mr. Lombardi,” Sumner said.

  "I'm not, but I know a good piece of ass when I've got one. I've fucked her six ways to Sunday. Only a pro can fuck like that. Besides, everyone's seen us together. Who do you think they'll come looking for if something happens to her? Or have I become another loose end you'd like to be rid of?"

  "And if you are, will that send you running to the feds?” Sumner shot back.

  Matt laughed. “And be locked up with the rest of you? No, thanks. I'm sure there are others who would appreciate a loyal man. Your friends haven't been subtle about that over the years either, if you recall. If they suspect you've turned against me, one of your most loyal men, how long before they worry you'll turn against them? Do you really want to be a loose end yourself?"

  "Are you threatening me, Mr. Lombardi?"

  "Just stating fact, boss. Anything happens to me, your friends will know it was your doing. No matter what you say, they'll still believe you had me silenced for what I know, not because of my taste in women. They'll be anxious to make sure something similar doesn't happen to them."

  "I can't believe we're allowing one woman to rend us apart, my friend.” So now Sumner was trying to smooth things over.

  "Not any woman—my woman. I've become very fond of her. Hell, it's close enough to call it love. I don't care if she is a call girl. I'm thinking Vegas, wedding chapel ... Simon Petrocelli lives in Vegas, doesn't he?” The biggest thorn in Sumner's side. That ought to dig deep.

  Matt had never been able to determine exactly what Petrocelli's business was with Sumner. In his mind, the two didn't mesh as cohorts, yet he couldn't see them being friends either. Both were rich, appeared cultured, but, while Sumner's lifestyle screamed “mob cutthroat,” Petrocelli's exuded “quietly dignified businessman.” Matt hated like hell to think someone of Petrocelli's apparent character was tied up in Sumner's dirty dealings. But there'd come a point where he couldn't discount anyone as a suspect, even someone he liked and respected as much as Simon Petrocelli.

  "You've made your point exceedingly well, Teo. Come back. She'll be welcome as well. But one questionable move on her part and—"

  "I'll deal with her personally."

  "Good. I'll see you soon?"

  "I'll call.” Matt ended the call and sagged against the seat.

  "Think he'll call your bluff?” Bob asked.

  Matt stuffed the cell into his pocket. “No, he has too much to lose. If the threat of retaliation isn't enough to keep him from killing me, the very idea I'd go to Petrocelli if he tries, will. I think Petrocelli has something big on Sumner, something that keeps the man in line."

  Bob nodded. “He could be a big piece of the puzzle, possibly the final key. Getting into his inner circle has been impossible up to now. This could be the chance we've been looking for."

  "How's that?” Herb's dark fo
rehead crinkled in a washboard of furrows.

  "Petrocelli's surveillance of those who concern him makes Sumner's set-up look like tin cans and string,” Matt said.

  Allie leaned forward, forearms on knees. “In other words, the FBI isn't the only one monitoring Sumner's phone."

  "Exactly.” Matt punctuated the sentence with a tap to her arm. “Petrocelli offered me a spot with him a couple of months back. He's big on loyalty. The fact I refused and stayed with Sumner impressed him. Once he thinks Sumner could be severing all loose ends, I'd be willing to bet Petrocelli tries to contact me."

  "So now what happens?” Bob's dark eyebrows looked like lazy question marks.

  "How about you let Matt and I do what we do best?” Allie draped her arm around his shoulders.

  Herb shook his head. “The danger—"

  "The more I'm associated with Matt, the safer I'll be. Any attempt on my life will be viewed as an attack on him. Without Matt, I don't stand a chance. Sumner will see to that."

  Matt wrapped his hand over her knee. He prayed that was true, that he hadn't signed their death warrants by taunting Sumner. Fear clutched at his heart at the thought of losing Allie. She'd said it perfectly before they'd left Hawaii—she couldn't breathe without Matt by her side. That's exactly how he felt. He wanted to clutch her to him, sink deep inside her heat, be so tightly bond together nothing could pull them apart. That's how his heart felt.

  Cut her loose and send her into hiding like the Kidwells? No way in hell. The Kidwells were as good as dead. Sumner had said so himself. Allie wasn't leaving his side. He'd been told in the past that falling in love wasn't smart for an undercover agent. Gordie's relationship with Eva proved that. Falling in love with a fellow agent also ranked up there as one of the top ten forbidden on a special agent's list of no-nos. Two weeks ago Matt had lived by that creed. But then, two weeks ago he hadn't met Allie.

  "Let us do our job.” He slid a steady gaze between their bosses.

  "All right,” they finally replied together.

  "How would you like to proceed from here?” Bob asked.