Snow White Espionage (Barely a Fairy Tale Book 2) Read online

Once they’d settled into a booth, that was when things got interesting. And by interesting, he meant weird.

  With a little too much enthusiasm, Jenna switched the topic abruptly. “Do you like dogs?”

  “Excuse me?” If this was some ploy to throw him off his game—it was working.

  “Dogs,” she repeated. He noticed a slight flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Interesting. If he had to guess, he’d say this was a woman who did not blush easily. She tucked her hair behind her ear again, in what he was starting think might be a nervous gesture. She looked up at him from beneath impossibly long lashes. “Do you, er, like dogs?”

  It was a struggle not to laugh, but he restrained himself. “I do, actually.”

  “Do you have one?” she asked quickly.

  At his silence, she shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry to pry, it’s just…I’m a bit obsessed.”

  “With dogs,” he clarified.

  “Mmhmm.” She smiled up at the server who brought her coffee to the table. Turning back to him, he met those vivid blue eyes. Eyes that were so blank, so guileless…it was almost unbelievable.

  “You see, I’ve been thinking of getting a dog, but I’m not sure what kind I want. And lately, it’s all I can think about. Could I see a picture of your dog?”

  He couldn’t recall affirming that he did have a dog, but sure. He’d go with it. Sure enough, as soon as he pulled out his phone to call up a picture—one of the few personal items he allowed himself on that phone was a few pictures of his nieces and nephews playing with George, his black lab.

  She oohed and aahed. Meanwhile, he tried to figure out what the hell she was up to with this tactic.

  That soon became obvious when dog talk ended and he set his phone down. Two seconds later she set her purse down on the table, blocking his phone from view and excused herself to go to the bathroom.

  Even as he reached for his phone behind her purse, he knew what was coming. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. But still. He had to admit he was more than a little shocked by her nerve.

  Daddy’s little princess had stolen his phone.

  Jenna was trapped. In a bathroom. With a useless phone.

  Staring at the phone in question she used her own to call Mackenzie.

  Her stepsister answered with a question. “Did you get it?”

  Had she gotten the phone? Yes. By humiliating herself and fawning all over the gruff former-cop-turned-detective-turned-phony-environmental-specialist.

  “Did you do the dog bit?”

  Jenna rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror. “I did it. How did you know he had a dog?”

  “His ex-wife’s Facebook page. It works, right?”

  “I looked like a moron. A ditzy, flake of a moron.”

  “But it worked,” Mackenzie said. “You leaned over and saw him enter his four-digit code?”

  “It worked,” Jenna confirmed. “But it’s useless.” Scrolling through the phone’s options, her stomach sank. She’d made an utter fool of herself for nothing. “There’s no email connected to the phone,” she said.

  “What about his calendar?”

  “All initials like he uses a code or something.”

  Mackenzie sighed on the other end. “And his texts?”

  “Nothing!” Jenna shook her head in wonder. “It looks like he’s deleted everything.”

  “Well he is a professional investigator,” Mackenzie pointed out matter-of-factly. “And a former cop. It makes sense that he’d be cautious.”

  Jenna stopped looking at his phone long enough to scowl at hers where it was propped on the sink. “You knew this would happen?”

  “It crossed my mind,” Mackenzie said, not sounding the least bit sorry that her plan had failed.

  “Then why did you make me go through that whole ‘do you have a dog’ routine?” Her voice had risen to a near shout. Lowering her voice so no one outside the bathroom could overhear, she hissed, “Why did you have me steal from a cop, for God’s sake?”

  “Former cop,” Mackenzie corrected, ever the stickler for details. “And it was worth a shot. Most people keep their entire lives in their smartphones, it’s the obvious place to start digging.”

  Jenna bit back a curse. She supposed Mack had a point.

  “So what do I do now?” The words were difficult to get out and her stepsister knew it.

  “It’s just killing you that I know more about something than you, isn’t it?”

  She let out of huff. “Mack, just tell me what to do.”

  “Fine. God, somebody is cranky when she’s undercover.”

  “I’m not undercover, he is.”

  “Right,” Mack said, suddenly sounding no-nonsense. Her reporter cap was back on, apparently. “He is undercover but he doesn’t know that you know that. You still have the upper hand.”

  Jenna studied her reflection in the mirror as she chewed that over. “I do?”

  “You do. You also have one other crucial tool at your disposal.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re hot.”

  Mack sounded so serious that Jenna let out a snort of amusement. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What? You’re hot, he’s a man. Presumably straight since he was married…”

  “So, what, you want me to seduce the truth out of him?”

  A man’s voice in the doorway of the bathroom made her jump. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  She spun around and let out a little squeak.

  “Jenna? What’s going on?” Mackenzie’s voice coming through the phone’s speaker filled the bathroom as she stared at Hunter.

  “Um, I’ve got to go, Mack. I’ll call you later.” She hung up the phone, keeping her wary gaze on Hunter all the while. How much had he heard?

  She could practically hear her father’s voice in her head, drilling his tactics into her. The best defense was offense. “What are you doing in the ladies’ room?”

  If she was hoping to embarrass him or put him on the spot, it didn’t work. He merely raised his eyebrows in an annoyingly smug look as he held out a hand. His gaze went from her face to his phone in her hand and back again.

  She admitted defeat with a sigh and handed over the phone. As she did, her hand brushed against his and an electric spark had her jerking her hand back as if he’d smacked her.

  Holy crap. What was that?

  But there was no time to think about it because he gently took her arm and led her out of the bathroom and back toward their table like she was some recalcitrant child. His grip wasn’t rough—she could have pulled away—but she was too busy going over her options.

  Maybe Mack was right, she could still keep the upper hand here.

  He just found her trying to spy on him in a bathroom—how the hell did she expect to get the upper hand?

  The only leverage she had was that he didn’t know that she knew who he really was.

  He tossed a handful of money on the table and picked up her purse, handing it to her, never letting go of his grip. Did he think she was going to try and run?

  Hardly. If he thought that, he didn’t know her at all.

  She tilted her head up to look at him. He didn’t know her—that was another point in her favor.

  But then he was guiding her out of the coffee shop and around the corner, back to their office building.

  “So,” he said conversationally. “Are you a klepto or just a thief?”

  Despite herself, she found herself fighting against a grin. There was something rather charming about his nonchalance. “Is there a difference?”

  “Oh absolutely. For a kleptomaniac, it’s a sickness. They can’t help themselves. But for a thief, it’s a choice. In my experience, thieves like the thrill of the hunt.”

  “And do you have a lot of experience with criminals, Mr. Wayne?”

  He cast her a look of out the corner of his eye and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. She’d caught him there. What would an enviro
nmental expert know about thieves?

  “You look awfully smug for a woman who just got caught stealing.” His forbidding glower would have been intimidating if it wasn’t so freakin’ sexy.

  No, not sexy. Just…intriguing. A hint of this man’s darker side. Between his gruff voice, the hair that looked like it should be mussed, the outdated, ill-fitting suit and that hideous tie—it was clear this guy was out of place. She would have spotted that even if she hadn’t recognized him. But that frown—that dark, forbidding expression—it made her desperate to see the real man he was hiding behind this Mark Wayne character.

  At her silence, he looked down at her with arched brows. “Aren’t you going to make an excuse of some sort?”

  She shrugged. Really, it wasn’t like he was a cop anymore. If he was going to have her arrested he would have done so already. Besides, the more smugly she acted, the more irritated he seemed to become. Something wicked in her wanted to see what would happen if she continued to taunt the surly bear.

  “No excuses,” she said. “You can’t fault a woman for being curious about the man who asks her out.”

  He jerked away from her at that statement, still holding her arm but moving away to look down at her expression. “I didn’t ask you out.”

  “You did,” she said calmly. “You asked me out for coffee, remember?”

  “That was a work thing,” he said. “Just coffee with a colleague.”

  God, he was kind of cute when he was defensive.

  Cute but dangerous. The fact that she had to remind herself of that was exactly why she steered clear of anything more serious than a one-night-stand. Clearly she was drawn to trouble. She couldn’t let herself start swooning over some guy who’d done nothing but lie through his teeth.

  The man was clearly here on some sort of assignment. Something having to do with Margaret and quite possibly related to whatever nefarious plot her father was so worked up about—assuming for the time being that her father was right.

  This was not a man to whom she could get attached.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t flirt. His reaction to her comment that he’d asked her out was telling. It had fazed him. Granted, he wasn’t the type to give away what he was thinking, but his instinct to jerk away from her had to mean he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of romance. And considering this was a guy who barely blinked when she’d stolen his phone—she’d settle for any sort of reaction if it meant getting under his skin and figuring out his secrets.

  So it was settled. Amusement had her swallowing down a snort of laughter. She’d have to use her feminine wiles.

  Huh. Maybe Mack had been right, after all. Oh Lord. First she was admitting that her father might be right, and now Mackenzie? It was a day for miracles.

  Pausing mid-step as they reached the elevators, she tugged lightly on the arm he held and between the two movements had him stumbling into her so for one brief moment they were touching—her arm against his, the lengths of their legs pressed together.

  The heat coming off of him was palpable and she could feel the contours of his muscles beneath that ill-fitting suit. For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath. But this was her move and he was the one who was supposed to be thrown off kilter.

  So she leaned back slightly and batted her lashes—batted her lashes! As if she was a femme fatale in some black-and-white movie. “Really, Mark, you can’t blame a girl for being cautious about the men she dates—”

  “We’re not dating, I told—”

  “Is this the best tie you own?” Reaching up, she ignored his protest and made a show of straightening the tie and smoothing the suit jacket, trying hard not to notice the feel of his hard chest beneath her hands or his earthy, masculine scent, which was some mix of detergent, aftershave, and soap.

  He didn’t answer and she didn’t look up, afraid he might be able to see how affected she was by her own game. “It really doesn’t suit you at all,” she continued.

  The elevator doors slid open and she led the way in, talking all the while. About his suit, how he styled his hair, restaurants they should try out…. Basically, she made herself the annoying, clingy girlfriend he clearly didn’t want.

  By the time the doors slid open again on their floor, he was backing away from her as if she was the carrier of a contagious disease.

  Success. Granted, she was no closer to figuring out why he was in the office working undercover—but then, she’d diverted him from asking her any more questions about why she’d stolen his phone.

  Or, for that matter, what exactly she was doing in the office.

  Chapter Four

  What the hell just happened?

  Hunter followed Jenna off the elevator and back to the office but he had a feeling he looked as shell-shocked as he felt. Like a man under hypnosis, he watched her hips sway beneath that tight black skirt of hers as he followed her into the lobby of Knight & Knight.

  Maybe it was the harsh glare of the reception area—or more likely, her hands no longer running over his body—but Hunter could feel his senses returning. Jenna was walking far too quickly for a woman in heels and he was just about to call out to her to slow down so he could ask her some more questions, but was stopped when the pretty receptionist popped up from behind the front desk. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

  The response was just over-the-top peppy enough for Jenna to stop in her tracks and exchange a quick quizzical look with Hunter. “Missed us already?” she joked.

  Andrea rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “No, silly, I wanted to invite you guys to happy hour tonight. It’s sort of a Knight & Knight tradition—a bunch of us go out for one on Mondays after work. But just one, since it’s a work night and all.”

  “Mmhmm.” He was barely paying attention, too focused on the way Jenna was keeping her back to him. She seemed so confident back there but every once in a while…he could swear she was nervous. What was up with her?

  “Anyway, because it’s your first day,” Andrea continued, “a bunch of us thought it would be neat if you could join.” She flashed her megawatt smile from Jenna to him and then back again. “Maybe we could all get to know each other better.”

  Jenna answer quickly. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks for the invite, Andrea.” She started moving toward her makeshift office as she spoke…like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

  “Yeah, great,” he echoed, his gaze never leaving Jenna’s back. Sure enough, she stiffened at his acceptance.

  He made her nervous…but why?

  As she rounded the corner, he set off in the opposite direction to find the office Margaret had assigned to him and fell back into his chair in front of his laptop.

  What was Jenna’s deal? It hardly seemed likely that a successful attorney would be a hacker on the side. But then, why would a successful attorney come here to play surrogate lawyer on her father’s cases? Maybe she was just a dutiful daughter trying to help out. Or maybe she was in on some scheme with her father…

  The phishing email incident had happened before she started but that didn’t prove anything. Surely she could have gained access to the computers in the office if she’d wanted to. But why would she do that? It didn’t make any sense.

  He ran a hand through his hair and then cursed aloud when he felt the gel he’d used to keep it slicked down for once in his life. Now it was probably sticking out all over. Ah well, it wasn’t like his suave corporate executive get-up had been a hit to begin with. Jenna’s little monologue had proved that.

  What was one more mess-up on a day like that? Less than one full day into his new assignment and he had far more questions than answers. Excellent.

  At least he’d also found one suspect. Jenna was a suspicious character, at the very least.

  Not too shabby.

  He just had to figure out what she was up to. Clearly trying to sweet-talk it out of her hadn’t worked. It seemed she was far more skilled in sweet-talk than he could ever hope to be. Scowling at the comput
er in front of him, his mind flashed back on the way she had so adeptly turned the tables on him. Before he could say, “you stole my phone,” she’d started talking about dating and what colors suited him best.

  And if that wasn’t enough—she’d touched him.

  He’d been a married man, hardly a virgin, but one would have guessed he was by the way his traitorous body reacted to her simple, insistent touching. God, he’d been like a horny teenager, ready to rip her clothes off after one soft caress of her hand on his jacket lapel.

  His eyes narrowed on the words before him, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He was too busy replaying what had happened. As he did, one thing became abundantly clear—she had known exactly what she was doing.

  Yup, he was sure of it. There could be no mistaking that glint in her eye or the amusement that had her lips twitching and her voice quavering.

  Goddammit. He’d been played for a fool.

  Again.

  Jesus Christ, he needed to get his act together. He was a professional. No nonsense. He got results. The officers under his command used to quake when he barked out orders.

  What the hell had happened to him? Thank God he didn’t store anything of value on his phone. He’d learned the hard way that having all one’s data in one spot was a poor decision, and keeping his phone clear of personal or work information had become something of a habit. He hadn’t really expected anyone in the office to try and break into his phone ever, let alone on the first day. Holy Christ, that woman had some nerve.

  But she hadn’t found anything—nothing of significance anyway. His ridiculous cover was still intact, for better or for worse, and that was something. He could use that to his advantage. She might have caught him off guard, but she had no idea that he was a detective or that he’d been hired to find a corporate spy. He still had the upper hand.

  But still, her actions opened up a host of questions. Namely, what had she been looking for? No way in hell he bought her story about checking out a potential date. Yes, she was hot, and very likely used to random men asking her out. But she’d come on too strong and had deftly avoided answering his questions in the process.