Kiss and Tell Page 3

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, merely stared at her with those cold blue eyes. Then he said, almost matter-of-factly, “Where’s your horse?”

  She nodded over her shoulder. “Tied up in the woods. I didn’t want anyone hearing me ride up.”

  His gaze narrowed, but he didn’t comment. “There’s a barn behind the cabin, but you’ll have to take care of your own horse. No stable hands. No room service, either, for that matter. Up here, we rough it.”

  Fiona smiled. “No problem. I’m hardly accustomed to room service. And if you call that roughing it…” she nodded toward the spacious cabin “…you’ve led a very cushy life, Mr. Langworthy.”

  * * *

  WHEN FIONA CAME IN from the stables a little while later, Josh showed her to the back bedroom, the one farthest from his. She’d brought in a backpack so he assumed she’d come prepared to stay for as long as he did. Obviously, she planned to take her undercover duties seriously.

  But…was that really why he was so annoyed with her? The fact that she’d barged in on his weekend, making it next to impossible to say no to this whole setup? Or was there something more at play here?

  The way she’d gotten under his skin so quickly was both puzzling and irritating. Josh didn’t understand it.

  Earlier that morning at the restaurant, he’d found her extremely attractive, but her cool remoteness had enabled him to dismiss his momentary interest without the slightest hesitation. She wasn’t his type, nor, apparently was he hers.

  But now she was like an entirely different woman. She’d traded the rigid business suit for a pair of faded jeans—bell bottoms, of all things—and her blond hair, falling past her shoulders, was all messy and wind-blown from the ride up the mountain. Rather than untouchable, she now seemed…earthy. Sensual. The kind of woman a man would not only want to take to bed but to a ball game. Like a blond Sandra Bullock.

  The change had caught Josh completely off guard, and he’d been struggling ever since to regain his equilibrium. Now, all of a sudden, Fiona Clark wasn’t so easy to dismiss.

  A door opened and closed down the hallway, and he turned back quickly to the pot of chili he had simmering on the stove. He pretended he didn’t hear her approach until she said almost rapturously, “Oh, man, that smells good!”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. When he tried to look away, he couldn’t. Her hair was damp and wavy, as if she’d taken a quick shower before changing into a fresh pair of low-rider jeans and a T-shirt that said Get Ready on the front.

  Get ready for what? he wanted to ask her.

  “It’s just chili,” he said, trying to tear his gaze from the front of her T-shirt. “There’s plenty for both of us if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m starving. And since we don’t have room service up here…” She gave him a disarming grin. “I believe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “Have a seat then.” He turned back to the stove.

  “Sure I can’t help?”

  “No, everything’s done. All I have to do is dish it up.” He ladled out the chili, then carried the steaming bowls to the table and set them on the placemats. Returning to the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator door and peered at the contents. “I’m having a beer, but we’ve got juice or soda if you prefer.”

  “Beer’s fine.”

  But when he placed the icy bottle in front of her, she made no move to touch it. She did, however, attack her chili without hesitation. After several enthusiastic bites, she said in surprise, “This is really good. Spicy but good. I never would have pegged you for the domestic type.”

  He shrugged. “Why should you? You don’t know anything about me. Not the real me, anyway.”

  Fiona sat back and blotted her mouth with her napkin. “That’s true. And I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe it would be a good idea for us to use this time to get better acquainted. It might make our situation a little less awkward.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t think anything could make this situation less awkward. I can’t even believe I’m seriously considering going along with such an idiotic scheme.”

  She hesitated, as if choosing her words very carefully. “I can understand how all this might seem a bit unorthodox to you, but undercover assignments are nothing unusual in law enforcement. And this scheme, as you call, has been carefully planned, right down to the smallest detail. It’ll work if you let it.”

  He glanced up at her. “And exactly how far are we supposed to go to convince my colleagues and constituents, not to mention my family, that our engagement is genuine?”

  She didn’t take the bait, but merely shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to play that one by ear.” She leaned toward him slightly. “Look at it this way. At least you’ll be doing something concrete to help find your nephew.”

  And that was the only reason Josh would even consider cooperating. He’d never felt so helpless in his life as he had since Schyler disappeared. At least this way, he would be taking an active, if peripheral, role in the investigation. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He shrugged. “What?”

  “Why did you come up here so suddenly after our meeting this morning?”

  “I needed to get away for a couple of days, have some time to think.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had been building for months. “This place has always helped me keep my head on straight.”

  She turned to stare out the window. “I can see why. It’s beautiful up here. But…” Her expression turned reproachful. “Considering the circumstances, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea to come up here alone. Besides, this close to the election, I would have thought every second on the campaign trail counted.”

  “Now you sound like Nell,” he muttered, getting up for another beer. He checked Fiona’s as well, but the bottle had barely been touched. He supposed she considered herself on duty.

  “You’re referring to Nell McKenna?” Fiona asked.

  “You’ve done your homework, I see.”

  “It pays to in my line of work.” She gave him a careful glance. “Your relationship with Ms. McKenna is strictly professional, I assume.”

  “If you want to know whether or not I’m sleeping with her, the answer is no,” Josh said coolly. “But I fail to see the relevance.”

  She shrugged. “Spurned lovers carry grudges. It’s as simple as that.”

  Josh sighed. “Is that how this is going to play out? You’re going to look for secret motives in everyone around me?”

  Fiona’s expression sobered. “The informant said the threat is coming from someone close to you, so, yes, everyone in your life is pretty much under suspicion. We can’t afford to overlook any possibility. One of your closest friends could have a secret vendetta against you and your family. Someone you least expect may want you dead.”

  “And isn’t that a cheery little thought?” Josh said grimly. But she was right. Of course, she was right. After Schyler’s disappearance, family, friends, business associates, everyone had come under scrutiny by the police. Initially, they’d all been suspects, and Josh wouldn’t have had it any other way. But it sure as hell hadn’t made life pleasant. And now this.

  “Look, I admit this all seems a bit…intense,” Fiona said. “We’ve both been thrown into a situation that’s bound to cause some friction between us. That’s why I thought it would help if we got to know one another better. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

  Josh wondered if she realized how much like a bad pickup line that sounded. “What do you want to know?”

  She sat back, amusement glinting in her dark eyes. “Why do they call you the playboy candidate?”

  “My opponent called me that once,” Josh said with a scowl. “Unfortunately, it made a good sound bite so it picked up steam in the media.”

  “The press does seem to have a curious fascination with your love life,” Fiona said. “Has it occurred to you th
at having a fiancée could actually benefit your campaign?”

  “And has it occurred to you that I might not like deceiving the public?” Josh shoved aside his bowl, having suddenly lost his appetite. “I don’t like pretending to be something I’m not. That’s not the way I want to get elected. And besides, what happens when your assignment comes to an end? What are the voters supposed to think when one day I have a fiancée at my side on the campaign trail and the next day I don’t?”

  Fiona nodded. “I agree that could be a problem for you, but when we blow the case open, you can tell them the truth. Or you can simply tell them that things didn’t work out between us and we called it quits. Whatever you decide, I’ll back you up.”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better about pulling a fast one on the voters?”

  “Look, I understand how you feel,” Fiona said. “But it’s for a good cause. You’re trying to do everything in your power to find your nephew. I don’t think anyone can fault you for that.”

  “Sure they can,” Josh said bitterly. “It’s called spin.”

  “You seem to have a pretty cynical view of politics,” she observed.

  “No. I’m just a realist. I’ve learned the hard way that politics is all about power and how far a candidate is willing to go to get it.”

  “Does that include you?”

  Their gazes met and held for the longest moment before Josh shrugged and glanced away. “Even if you go into it with the noblest of intentions, your integrity can quickly become lost in all the backroom deals and the hype and the mudslinging. It’s an ugly business.”

  “If you really feel that way, I’m surprised you decided to follow in your father’s footsteps,” Fiona said.

  “I can assure you, my running for governor has nothing to do with my father.” But that wasn’t true. Samuel Langworthy had everything to do with Josh’s political ambitions, whether Josh wanted to admit it or not.

  “Sorry,” Fiona murmured. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

  “You didn’t. But enough about me.” Josh eyed her for a moment. “If we’re going to make people believe we’ve secretly been engaged for the past several weeks, then I should know something about you as well.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Sure. Ask me anything you like. I don’t have any secrets.” But there was something in her eyes, something mysterious, that made Josh wonder what she might be hiding.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Chicago. Born and raised there. I graduated from Northwestern.”

  “How did you come to work for the FBI?”

  “They recruited me right out of graduate school.”

  “What was your major?”

  “Psychology.”

  He almost groaned. “Don’t tell me. You wanted to be a profiler. You had dreams of becoming the next Clarissa Starling.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I liked working in the field.”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. After eight years, it was time for a change.”

  “That seems a little vague.”

  “You have to understand something,” she said with a frown. “For all its modern technology, the atmosphere at the bureau is still very much the way it was in Hoover’s day. In some field offices, female agents, no matter how talented, are still considered subordinate to their male counterparts.”

  He lifted a brow. “Were you harassed?”

  “Not so much harassed as ignored. It was as if I didn’t exist.” She gave another shrug. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough when you never quite measure up at work, but when you get that same attitude at home…” She trailed off. “I have four brothers who are cops. For all my training and experience, they’ve never been able to see me as anything but a kid sister who needs protecting from the big bad world.”

  Josh had a hard time picturing her in that light. From what he’d been able to tell, Fiona Clark was more than capable—and perfectly willing—to take on that big bad world.

  “It was humiliating enough that they had to interrogate all my dates back in high school, but they still give the third degree to any man they think I’m interested in. And if they think he might get out of line with me…” She shuddered. “It can get ugly.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Josh said slowly. “If a man made a pass at you, he’d have to contend with your four cop brothers?”

  “No,” Fiona said with an intriguing little smile. “He’d have to contend with me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AFTER THE FOOD was put away and the dishes cleaned up, Josh disappeared into his bedroom. Fiona used the time to study the layout of the cabin.

  To call the house a cabin was a bit deceiving, she decided, because it was far from small and far from rustic as the term usually implied. Each of the five bedrooms had its own private bath and spectacular view of the mountains, but there were no phones, fax machines or computers anywhere on the premises. Without cell phones, they would truly be cut off from civilization.

  The living area, kitchen and dining room were combined in one large space that was decorated, on first glance, more for comfort than style. But on closer examination, the sofa and chairs arranged around a large stone fireplace were made of the supplest of leather, and the artwork on the walls looked original and expensive. Subtle touches were everywhere, and Fiona decided that it had probably taken an expensive designer with lots of time and an unlimited budget to achieve such casual elegance.

  Her inspection of the house completed, Fiona settled down in front of the fireplace to wait for Josh. But the cabin was so quiet, the setting so serene, that she almost immediately drifted off to sleep.

  She awakened sometime later with a start. She didn’t think she’d been asleep for all that long, but the sun was setting and the cabin had grown cold and shadowy. Almost unnaturally quiet.

  She shivered uneasily as she got up and hurried down the hallway to Josh’s bedroom. Knocking on the door, she waited a few seconds before calling out his name. When she still heard no response, she rapped a second time, then opened the door and called his name again.

  Flipping on the light switch, she saw in a glance that the bed was neatly made, the room in perfect order.

  Had he given her the slip while she lay sleeping? Had he gone off to meet an accomplice?

  Or…had something happened to him?

  Whirling, she hurried down the hall and rushed toward the front door. Throwing it open, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  Josh was on the front porch, gazing at the mountains. When he heard the door open, he glanced over his shoulder. “Something wrong?”

  Fiona gulped down her relief. “No. I guess I must have dozed off. When I woke up, I didn’t know where you’d gone off to.”

  It was dark outside, but she thought she could see surprise flash across his features. “Why would you think I’d gone off somewhere?”

  She shrugged. “I just…wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, but turned back to the mountains. “I want to show you something,” he finally said.

  Fiona closed the door behind her as she walked out to stand on the porch beside him. He was still staring at the mountains and the sky, and Fiona followed his gaze. And drew in a sharp breath. “It’s so beautiful up here. So…overwhelming.” The mountains. The sky. Fiona suddenly felt puny and insignificant in the face of such grandeur.

  He nodded, as if he understood precisely the way she felt. “That’s why I keep coming here,” he murmured. “It helps me keep things in perspective. Reminds me that we’re all a part of something much greater than ourselves.”

  Fiona turned to stare at his profile. From the outset of the investigation, she’d assumed him a man of great style, but little substance. An arrogant, self-absorbed politician whose background of wealth and privilege gave him very little in common with the constituency he sought to represent. But there was mor
e to Josh Langworthy than met the eye, Fiona thought with a shiver. So much more.

  “You’re cold,” he said and slipped off his jacket. “Here, put this on.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Fiona protested, but he was already wrapping the coat around her shoulders. His knuckles grazed against the bare skin of her neck, and Fiona suddenly went still with shock. Then she quickly reached up and pulled the jacket around her as she took a step back. “Thanks,” she said awkwardly, wondering if he’d noticed her rather bizarre reaction to his touch.

  If he had, he chose not to show it. He rested his hands on the porch railing, his gaze going back to the mountains.

  After a moment, Fiona said softly, “Can I ask you something?”

  He shrugged. “That’s your job, I guess.”

  She hesitated, uncertain how to phrase her question, and even more unsure how he would take it. “Earlier when you mentioned your father, I sensed some tension. Or was that just my imagination?”

  He glanced at her then, but she couldn’t read his expression in the darkness. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I need to know about your relationship with everyone close to you.”

  “You can’t honestly think the threat against me is coming from my father?”

  “I don’t think your father is a threat to your life, no,” she replied obliquely.

  He straightened from the rail, gazing down at her. “Then what do you think?”

  She met his gaze in the darkness. “How badly does your father want you to win this election?”

  She still couldn’t make out his expression, but she knew that he had suddenly tensed. She could feel it in the very air between them. “What are you getting at?”

  “If the voting public became aware that there’s been a threat against your life, you might garner a great deal of sympathy.”

  “So that’s it. You think this is all some kind of publicity stunt,” he said in disgust. “And I’m in on it, I suppose.”

  He’d hit so close to the truth that Fiona had a difficult time keeping her voice even when she said, “If Wiley Longbottom wasn’t taking the threat against your life seriously, I wouldn’t be here. But at the same time, we can’t afford to overlook any possibility. Your father has made no secret of the fact that he thinks that the Langworthy legacy is riding on this election. Without a Langworthy in public office, your family stands to lose a great deal of its political clout.”