Undercover With the Enemy Read online

  When opposites ignite...

  High-risk securities operative Holly Milano usually prefers to work alone. Having a partner is, well, annoying. Case in point—her current assignment with Kane MacMillan. They’re working undercover in high society to retrieve a priceless diamond necklace.

  And Mr. Plan Everything is seriously cramping Holly’s fly-by-the-seat-of-her-sexy-pants style.

  Kane takes his job seriously, and he knows from experience that working with Holly usually ends in disaster. Their conflicting approaches could destroy their cover—or worse, get them killed. But when they’re forced to pose as an engaged couple, neither Holly nor Kane are prepared for the possibility of an unexpected attraction...or that they’re now putting their lives and their hearts on the line.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About the Author

  Also by Sharron McClellan… Risking It All for Her Boss

  Discover more Entangled Select Suspense titles… Broken Honor

  Love You Madly

  Deadly Trouble

  Cuba Undercover

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Sharron McClellan Camaratta. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Select Suspense is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Tracy Montoya

  Cover design by Fiona Jayde

  Cover art by iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-340-2

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition August 2015

  For Sue Bringen. You taught me to sail, that a day on the

  water always ends with cocktails, and how to not scream like

  a little girl when a sailboat heels onto its side. Thank you!

  Chapter One

  “Entrance of the Gladiators,” the big-top circus theme, played in Holly’s head as she stood on the roof of the Waltham Office Complex eyeing her target—the building across the alley. Swinging a galvanized cable attached to a grappling hook in a circle over her head, she let it go as its momentum peaked. It arced across the twenty-foot gap, landing on the rooftop of the other building.

  She tugged the cable, the metal grapple scraping loud against the cement in the still night. “Come on.”

  The hook caught on the ledge. She yanked. Hard. It held. “Nice.”

  Decision time. Tightrope or swing across? She assessed the distance, the wind, and whether she felt like swinging—crashing, really—into the side of the building, then scrambling up to the roof or walking across empty space with the possibility of falling to her death.

  Either was dangerous, but given a choice, she preferred walking the rope. It was more fun.

  Keeping tension on the metal cable, she used her customized carabineer system to latch the other end onto a thick metal pipe that followed the perimeter of the Waltham roof, then stood back to survey her handiwork. Not as taut as she would like, but enough to keep the grapple engaged and herself from swaying.

  “Time for a status update, Holly.” Kane MacMillan, her by-the-book mission leader, broke her concentration, his voice coming in through her ear bud. She rolled her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t answer, he’d go away and let her do her job.

  Dressed in black tights, tank top, hoodie, leather gloves, and a silky black ski mask—what she considered traditional apparel when thieving—she did a quick gear check. The drop to the pavement was sixty feet, and carelessness could be a death sentence.

  All tight. All secure. She hopped onto the ledge and put a delicate foot on the cable, taking a test step to make sure the grapple still held.

  It barely twitched. “Excellent.”

  “Status, please.”

  Dammit. “In a minute,” she replied, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice.

  With the moon and the glow of the city as her only sources of light, and the big-top theme still playing in her head, she took the first full step onto the cable. It shimmied beneath her feet but nothing more.

  Another step and she stood over the empty space. She tossed apprehension out of her head and focused on the walk. Raised in the circus by a mother who was a self-professed psychic, she’d been performing since she was old enough to walk. Of course, she’d never be skilled enough to do the more advanced moves—those were left up to the kids born into the family that claimed the tightrope act, but she’d been allowed to play at it.

  She’d learned, and now she could walk the rope. It wasn’t much, but for what she did, it was enough.

  Deep breath. Easy. Exhale.

  “What the hell is going on? Do we have a situation?” Kane asked.

  She stilled, arms still outstretched as her concentration broke. “I’m a step away from death. Can you please shut up?”

  “Next time, check in as scheduled and give an update. Why do you have to make everything harder than it needs to be?”

  She didn’t, but there was something about him that brought out the rebellious teenager in her. “Whatever.”

  “No. Not whatever. Check in. On time.”

  Or you’ll do what?

  She managed to keep the comeback in her head, promising herself he’d pay later. Refocusing her attention on the task, she hummed the circus theme as she took a second step. She was out of reach of the ledge now. No turning back.

  Adrenaline rushed, and she took a deep breath, channeling the heat and the energy.

  “Da da dadadada da da da dum.”

  “Is that necessary?” Kane’s voice cut in.

  She swayed, thrusting her arms out to keep her balance. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

  Hesitation. “Dammit. I’m—”

  Holly reached up and tapped the earpiece, cutting him off in mid-sentence.

  Kane. Why did it have to be him?

  With a well-muscled six-foot-two frame, eyes the color of a stormy sky, and pale brown hair that begged to be tousled, he was the kind of man most women fantasized about being with. A small part of her imagined that being held in his arms offered an unexpected feeling of safety.

  All-in-all, a sexy package that was everything a woman desired.

  Until he opened his mouth and revealed himself to be the biggest stick-in-the-mud that ever walked the earth.

  Holly bobbled on the wire and realized that she had to get him out of her head or she’d end up splattered on the pavement below. Humming louder, she used her feet to feel her way along the cable, keeping her gaze on the ledge of the other roof. One step. Two. Three.

  The world fell away as she crossed the void. There was nothing but the slight breeze, the humming in her head, and a goal
.

  No big-top audience. No stage lights. No Kane.

  Nothing.

  She’d never admit it to anyone, but this was where she felt most at home. Where she didn’t have to be anything or anyone other than herself. Holly Milano, thief extraordinaire.

  Her feet landed on the cement ledge of the Waltham building, and she blinked. That felt faster than normal. She glanced at her watch. Seventy seconds. A new record.

  But long enough that Kane was probably having a conniption fit. She tapped the earpiece. “What did I miss?”

  “What the hell?” the masculine voice on the other end growled. “I thought you fell off the damned rope.”

  “It’s a cable.”

  “Do not turn off the earpiece again,” he said, ignoring her correction.

  This was why she didn’t like working with him. He was so by-the-book, he left no room for the unexpected. In her line of work, there had to be wiggle room and a bit more. Not allowing for the occasional “off plan” experience could get her caught or killed.

  Not that he cared. She’d learned that two years ago when they’d worked their first op together. She’d improvised when a door that was supposed to be open had turned out to be locked. The lock was complicated and cracking it would take time—time she didn’t have. Instead, she’d entered an unlocked office next door, gone through a window, and scaled the outside of the building to the target to retrieve the files they’d been after.

  Instead of being thrilled with the fact that she’d gone above and beyond, and got away with it, Kane-the-Pain had cited her for “insubordination” in his report to Temperance Smith, the V. P. of the West Coast branch of High Risk Security—a for-profit security agency that offered everything from rescuing kidnapped victims to recovering stolen items.

  The complaint had become a black mark on her record. Plus, she’d had the added thrill of a lecture on the value of teamwork—given by Tempe, herself.

  He really was Kane-the-Pain. She snickered at the nickname.

  “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice brisk and low.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then get moving. The security cameras won’t remain deactivated forever.”

  “On it, boss.”

  “I’m not your boss. If I were, you wouldn’t be here.”

  Kane the Pain. She didn’t laugh this time. There was nothing funny about his snarky comments. “Then don’t distract me when I’m in the middle of not dying.”

  “Agreed,” he replied.

  He hadn’t changed. Holly jogged across the roof-top garden—a small area with benches, trees, and even a fountain—toward the door to a stairwell. She pulled on the handle. Locked.

  “Holly?”

  She reached up to switch off the earpiece again then stopped, her hand hovering for a breath before dropping to her side. As much as she’d love to ignore him, she didn’t need him to tattle on her again. “What?”

  “I didn’t know you were already on the cable when I interrupted. Sorry about that.”

  An apology? Unexpected warmth followed the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins. “Thanks.” Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sometimes.

  “If you would check in, then I’d know what was going on.”

  The warmth vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Of course.” She shook off the agitation, knowing it would only hinder her. “The stairwell is locked.” They were running tight on time. “I’m using the secondary route.” She walked to the three-foot by three-foot metal lid that capped the main roof vent for the building’s HVAC system.

  “Roger that,” he replied.

  Flipping open the metal cover, she tied one end of a static rope to the door handle of the stairwell, tossed the remaining length down the ventilation tube, and stared into the blackness. It was going to be a tight fit. Not impossible, but she was glad she’d forgone dessert at dinner.

  Being careful for any sharp edges, she dropped into the shaft and lowered herself into the darkness.

  …

  The rules were in place for a reason. He knew she wasn’t ignorant, so why did she keep flouting them at every given opportunity?

  Sitting in the back of a non-descript delivery van with the name “Ramona Bakery” painted on the side along with the picture of a smiling muffin, Kane tapped a pencil on one of his video monitors as he watched the blip that represented Holly make her way into the building. He’d hoped she’d outgrown her childish desires to bend the rules at every given chance.

  It was the only reason he’d agreed to the assignment with her. He’d seen what she could do the last time they worked together. Her combination of fearless gymnastics and street smarts made her one of the best retrieval specialists that HRS had ever hired.

  But her inability to adhere to any plan—no matter how simple—made her a nightmare to work with. He’d heard her say that she preferred to work alone, and a part of him wondered if she were capable of working on a team. With him.

  The dot that was Holly stopped its vertical movement, then continued on horizontally.

  “Are you on the fourth floor? Or did you attach your GPS to a dog and run in the other direction?” Kane asked, hating that he even had to broach the question. Anyone else and he wouldn’t even bother.

  But with Holly, she would be off the agreed-upon path in mere seconds if she thought it would add to the excitement of the operation.

  “Just as instructed, O captain my captain,” she replied, affecting a slight New England accent. He ignored her attempt at humor, wondering if the inflection was real. It was hard to tell. In addition to being an excellent thief, she could perform an array of accents, making it impossible to judge where she actually came from.

  There were rumors that she’d been raised in a circus, which would explain a lot of her abilities, but he ignored them. He didn’t gossip and didn’t appreciate people who did.

  Besides, people ran away to join the circus. Not from it.

  With her blonde hair, big china-doll-blue eyes, and over-the-top optimism, it was more probable that she’d been a cheerleader before arriving at HRS. The kind for whom a pyramid of people was never enough. He could imagine her in one of those tiny skirts, pompoms in hand as she worked the crowd, and he grinned, in spite of the irritation she caused.

  “Okay chief, I’m at the office,” she said, the Massachusetts in her voice even more pronounced.

  “Checking the perimeter,” he replied, swiveling in the chair so he could check his link to the security cameras. The single guard was still at the desk, watching something on his smartphone.

  “The guard is right where we left him,” Kane said. “You have thirty minutes until his next round.”

  “I’ll only need three.”

  A shiver raced up his spine. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but a leftover sliver of magical thinking from his childhood whispered that she’d jinxed the mission. “Less chatter. More doing,” he said, then winced at the holier-than-thou sound in his voice.

  Dammit, but he had a difficult time maintaining his composure around Holly. And he knew what it was—the flamboyant showmanship. Her lack of substance. But mostly, her refusal to follow any of the rules—HRS’s or society’s. He never knew where she stood on anything, except for the fact that she’d be in opposition to him more often than not.

  And then there was her ability to lie with no hint of subterfuge.

  How could he trust someone like that?

  He ran a hand through his thick hair, frustrated at being stuck with such a pain-in-the-ass partner. It wasn’t like she needed help. Not for this. It was a simple job. Get in. Get the file. Get out.

  The building wasn’t even high-security.

  Leaning back in his chair and balancing on the back legs, he watched two of the monitors. One showed Holly’s location per the tracker, and the other displayed the visual of the guard, courtesy a quick hack of the security camera across from his desk.

  Movement caught his attention. On the black-and-white monito
r, the guard answered the phone. Kane zoomed in, reading his lips as best he could, considering the angle was off.

  Something about pizza. A break? The guard put the phone down, picked up his nightstick, and stood. Kane straightened in his chair, the front legs hit the van floor with a thud.

  He didn’t need to read the entire conversation to know that someone was bringing the guard dinner, which meant he would be making his rounds early. The shiver that had raced up his spine a moment ago made an encore. “The guard’s on the move,” he said. “Stand by.”

  “Don’t you mean work faster and get the hell out?”

  And there it was—her inability to play well with others. “I mean stay where you are until I can ascertain where he’s going.”

  He had to be sure before he made a decision on what to do. Perhaps the guard was going to the rest room, though Kane’s gut told him otherwise.

  “Do you copy?” he asked. Holly didn’t respond, and he could only imagine what she was doing. The guard dropped off the screen, and Kane flicked on another set, following the man’s movement as he skipped the bathroom and headed for the elevator.

  Kane frowned. Dammit, he hated being right. They didn’t have much time. From the files, he knew that the guard would start his rounds by heading to the rooftop garden and working his way downward.

  Holly could hide a lot of things but not the open duct or the cable that spanned the buildings. “We’re blown,” he said. They could go back for the files but not if they tipped off their mark and he moved them. “Get out. Do not break into the office. We’ll go at this from another angle.”

  “I can do this,” Holly said. “I’m standing outside the door.”

  Kane pressed his lips tight, keeping his frustration at bay. “I said, get out.”

  “Too late,” Holly said. “I’m in.”

  “Dammit,” he snapped, the dam on his annoyance breaking. “If I told you to break in, would that have made you leave?”

  “Possibly.” She chuckled in his ear, the sound throatier than he expected.

  It was done. There was no choice but to finish. “Just get the info and leave before he sounds the alarm.”

  “See you in sixty,” she replied. “Side alley. Be there.”