Page 12 of Live a Little!


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“What?” Her eyes widened, and her heart began to pound. She’d feel just the same if a guy from the IRS sat here and said, “It’s about yourtaxes.”

“You could be instrumental in helping the FBI crack a drug smugglingoperation.”

“Drugs?” Her voice rose. “In this neighborhood? The only drugs you’ll find around here are blood pressure and bladder control medication. Hardly illegal. But very funny, hah hah.” Jerk. He’d got her all scared for nothing. She scooped up a spoon of melting ice cream and let the delicious flavor sootheher.

“It’s not in this neighborhood.” He hadn’t cracked a smile, so maybe he wasn’t joking afterall.

* * *

Jake didn’t knowhow to approach this. He’d checked Cynthia Baxter out. She might be a sexual adventurer, but she’d never been arrested. She was a certified accountant who had indeed been with the same employer her whole working life. His original hunch was bang on the money. She was perfect. She was the rosy answer to a thorny problem and she lived two doors down. Now he just had to convince her to quit her job of nine years, take a new one and spy on herboss.

He had to figure out what would tempt her. He stood and began to pace while she watched him, her hair gleaming like oldcopper.

Everybody had a hot button. Money? Danger? Excitement?Patriotism?

What washers?

Her green eyes were huge in the lamplight, and somehow guileless. Must be a big turn-on to guys that a woman so innocent looking went for the kinky stuff in bed. He swallowed a mental image of her naked and helpless, the way he’d first seen her, lying there like an openinvitation.

Except he didn’t attend those kind of parties anymore. Not since he’d walked in on his wildly exciting girlfriend getting wildly excited with two other men and another woman. She was his ex-girlfriendnow.

Cynthia Baxter reminded him of his ex. It wasn’t so much the kinky stuff that put him off, it was the revolving door to the bedroom. He was already the second man through Cynthia’s door tonight. Who knew how many were on their way? He paced. “I saw your boyfriend leaveearlier.”

Her lips pinched. “He’s not myboyfriend.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Chew them up and spit them out like grapes. She probably ate them in bunches,too.

She gasped. “Walter’s not involved in some kind of drug thing, is he?” She answered her own question even as Jake shook his head. “No. NotWalter.”

He had to forget the way she intrigued him, one minute sexy as a centerfold, the next as innocent as one of those damned big-eyed pottery figurines. It didn’t matter what she did in the privacy of her own bedroom, so long as she didn’t do it withhim.

How to reach her. She didn’t need money. He’d done his homework and knew that, in addition to this house, she’d inherited a nice chunk of change from the folks, had no siblings to split it with, and had managed to accumulate a pretty impressive portfolio of herown.

His eyes scanned the room, which resembled a half-dressed woman with so much of the stuff packed away. She hadn’t touched the bookshelf, though. A full set of leather-bound matching classics that must be from some club were mixed in with books of poetry, modern novels, a few paperbacks and a line of glossy hardcovers as new as her haircolor.

He moved closer and squinted:Me, Myself and I, Flying Solo and Loving It,was shelved next toTime for a Change!andBe the Change You Want to See Happen.Apart from supporting an entire industry of smarmy pseudo-shrinks, she was sending a definite messagehere.

Change.The woman was looking for change. He couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t quit her job in nine years when she’d obviously changed her hair color and men more often than he changed his razorblades.

She wanted change and he was the man to give it to her. “I want to offer you ajob.”

“The FBI needs another accountant?” She licked the last of the ice cream off her lips, her pink tongue teasing the glossy copper lipstick. No wonder they called herCyn.

His own lips felt dry. “It’s undercover work. Very hush-hush.” The James Bond script people would be embarrassed to use a line like that, but it brought a gleam of excitement to her eyes and she jumped up to facehim.

“Undercover?”

He was going with his gut, but it seemed like he’d punched the right button. He nodded gravely, glanced around as though her house might be bugged, and dropped his voice. “Top secret. You’d be on a need-to-knowbasis.”

He could have been 007 himself the way she was staring at him with rapt attention. “What do I need toknow?”

“We’re watching an import-export company. We believe they’re a link in a worldwide drug smuggling operation, but we’ve had no luck putting an agent in place inside. One of their accountants recently left the firm, then hopped a plane to Hong Kong before we could get to him.” Jake experienced again the frustration he’d felt when Harrison had slipped through their fingers. “So I know there’s a vacancy in the accountingdepartment.”

Some of the sparkle had dimmed from her eyes. “You’re asking me to be an accountant? That doesn’t sound veryexciting.”

“Ninety percent of undercover work is mundane,” he told her truthfully. “But you’ll be able to see things, hear things. You’ll be on theinside.”

He’d had no luck at all infiltrating the shipping and receiving end of the company, where he was certain the action was. But they sure as hell wouldn’t be expecting a plant in the front-office staff. And when they checked Cynthia Baxter out, they’d discover just what he had. She was an experienced accountant with no links to any kind of law enforcement. Lived alone, nice quiet life on the surface. No criminal activities that could bring attention to her. Her bedroom was a fun house with a revolving door. With any luck, she’d take Neville Percivald for a ride and get him talking. She wasperfect.