On Her Master's Secret Service (Masters and Mercenaries #4)

She moved her sandwich out of the way as he joined her on the bench.

“Sorry about that.” Her voice was husky, and he noticed that she was solidly built. He would bet when she stood up that she would have an hourglass figure. There was nothing fragile about this Kristen. “I wanted to make sure we were alone first. You seemed to have been a very good boy.”

“I told my boss we were meeting across town.” In the West End, to be precise. With its shops and numerous restaurants, it would take Jake a while before he realized he’d been had. Because there was no way Ian hadn’t sent someone along to shadow him. He knew his best friend. Besides, it was what he would have done in the same place. “We’re alone. So talk.”

“Wow, you are all business, aren’t you? Come on. We’re here and it’s beautiful.” She turned her face up to the sun that was streaming through the skylights. “Shouldn’t we enjoy the day a bit? I was really having a nice time sitting here and reading. And this chicken salad sandwich rocks, let me tell you. Got it off a street vendor named Carlotita. She knows chicken salad. Oh, yeah.”

Alex shook his head. He’d expected this meeting to be dark and ominous and she just kept grinning. “What do you want? Because you’re obviously not serious. Is someone playing a joke on me?”

She frowned. “I am so sorry. This is completely serious for me, Alex. Trust me. I’ve been working on this particular case for a very long time. I can see the finish line now. I’m just…happy to be here. I always wanted to come to Dallas. I have some history here.” She pulled a small envelope out of the trade paperback she had been holding. It didn’t look like her reading habits were any more serious than her demeanor. Surrender to Me. Yeah, she was very literary. She caught him staring. “Hey, Mister. Don’t turn your nose up. This is one hot book. And I’ve been using Ms. Shayla for some research. Open the envelope. It’s got some important information about Michael Evans.”

He opened the envelope and pulled the neatly folded papers free. He looked over the information she’d typed up. It was a list of locations and dates. And a photocopied passport that plainly showed Michael Evans. He was thinner and his hair was blonde instead of dark, but there was no way to mistake those eyes. “Is he still going by Andrew Johnson?”

She shrugged a little. “I suspect he has several passports from a couple of different countries.”

“How did you get this?” She might look like a sweet little ball of fluff, but she’d been close to Michael Evans if she’d gotten a copy of his passport.

A little smile tugged her lips up, and her eyes nearly slid away from his for a second. The minute she’d heard the command in his voice, her hands had turned palms up on her thighs. If they had been alone, she likely would have sank to her knees. Sub. Very well trained. Too many coincidences were racking up. “I didn’t copy it myself. I followed him for almost a month until he finally went to a bank. He was moving around a lot of money and they made a copy of his passport. Honestly, he probably dumped this ID after that, but I needed to prove to you that I’m serious.”

“You broke into the bank?”

She shook her head. “Oh, I totally could have, but I didn’t have to. Also, the bank gets freaky about records and they would have contacted him if they thought his records had been compromised.”

“Then how?”

“I dressed up as the copy repair person. The manager was all like, what? But then I let him get a glimpse of cleavage and a fake work order and I was totally in. All I had to do was copy the hard drive and I had what I needed. Oh, and I fixed that little wheel that was squeaking and causing all the paper jams. It just needed some WD-40.”

She could really talk a mile a minute. Not everything she was saying made sense to him. “Copy machines have hard drives?”

“Oh yes, and they are so totally helpful when you want to get information but you don’t want anyone to know you have it. Really, it’s awesome. So the hard drive on a copy machine actually takes a picture of everything the copy machine scans.” A look of satisfaction came over her face, like a cat who had licked up all the cream. She was submissive, but she would likely be a merciless brat from time to time. “Do you know the kind of information on copy machines? Records of all kinds. Medical records. Banking records. Prison records. Military information. All that lovely information and all I need to get it is a thumb drive. That’s power for you. No one ever thinks about the fact that a copy machine is really a computer.”

There was far more to the woman in front of him than a cute smile. “Are you really a reporter?”

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