Mission: Irresistible. Sharon Sala
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be posing as some wayward teenager or wild child in order to infiltrate some crime syndicate. All she had to do was convince Easton Kirby to come back on active duty. How difficult could that be?
She popped the trunk on her car and leaned in to get out her bag. As she did, a large shadow suddenly passed between her and the sun and she knew she was no longer alone. She straightened and turned, expecting a bellhop, or at the least an employee of the resort.
It was a man.
He was tall, so tall, and standing close—too close.
Slightly blinded from the sunlight behind him, she saw nothing but his silhouette. And then he stepped to one side to reach for her bag and she saw his face.
It was Easton Kirby himself—the man she’d come to meet.
Well, this makes it easy. At least I won’t have to wangle an introduction.
“Ms. Corbin, welcome to Condor Mountain,” he said, as he lifted her bag from the trunk of her car.
She thought nothing of the fact that he would know her on sight. The agency would have followed procedure and notified him ahead of time that an operative would be arriving.
“Thank you,” Ally said, a little disconcerted by his height and the way he was looking at her.
She was five inches over five feet tall and he seemed a good foot taller. And, there was a look in his eyes that made her shiver. She shrugged off the thought that he would know why she’d come, telling herself that it was guilt that was making her nervous.
“This is certainly wonderful service. I only just arrived.”
“I know,” he said softly, then looked her straight in the eyes. “I was waiting for you.”
Ally’s lips parted in shock. But only a little and only for a brief moment. As she followed him up the steps and into the hotel, she couldn’t shake the notion that he wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting. She had a desperate feeling that she’d been waiting for him, too—all of her life.
Oh fine, she thought. Now is not the time for my stifled hormones to kick in. Just because he’s sexy, and good-looking, and I’m supposed to talk this man into something he doesn’t want to do, doesn’t mean I have to complicate this more than it already is.
They reached the registration desk. Before she could speak, he was bypassing it and leading her toward the elevators.
“You’re already checked in,” he said. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”
The doors opened and they stepped inside. She watched as he stuck a key into a slot and gave it a turn. Immediately the elevator car started to ascend. She grabbed on to the railing to steady herself, then noted that they had bypassed the fourth floor.
“I thought this hotel only had four floors. Where are we going? Heaven?”
For the first time since her arrival he looked at her and grinned and her heart dropped right to her toes. Oh lordy. I am so out of my league.
“No, but some people tend to think the view might be similar,” he said. “There’s a penthouse suite on the ocean side of the hotel that’s not visible from the front entrance. It’s reserved for special guests such as yourself.”
“Oh,” she said, and then looked down at her feet so that he might not see the remorse she was feeling. He was being nice to her because he thought she was over the edge. Slipping. Burned-out. All the adjectives one might use to describe a SPEAR operative on the verge of a breakdown.
He looked at her then, reading her sudden silence as having been reminded of something terrible that must have happened to her on the job and remembered that when SPEAR operatives were ever sent here, it was usually for mental healing.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” she began, but the car had stopped and the doors were opening and Easton Kirby was already on the move. She followed, kicking herself for not knowing how to draw men into casual conversation.
They exited into what appeared to be a large foyer. East punched in a series of numbers on the security panel beside the door and then turned the knob.
“Your home away from home,” he said, leading the way inside. “I hope your stay will be comfortable.” He set her suitcase down in the bedroom, then handed her the key and a card. “The security code is written on the back. My number is on the front. If you need anything at any time of the night or day, all you have to do is call me.”
She took the key and the card and slipped them into her pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Kirby.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Corbin, and please…call me East.”
“If you’ll call me Ally, it’s a deal,” she said, offering her hand.
When he took it, she felt as if she’d been treading water all of her life and someone had just offered her a line to safety. This womanly, helpless feeling was so foreign to Ally that she didn’t know how to react.
“Well then,” she said, quickly releasing his hold. “Now that we’re supposed to be friends, does this mean I don’t have to tip you?”
East threw back his head and laughed. A deep-from-the-belly kind of laugh that sent shivers up Ally’s spine. She grinned, pleased that she’d gotten some sort of positive response from him.
Still chuckling, East shook his head. “No, you don’t have to tip me and we start serving dinner around seven. The restaurant stays open until midnight so remember, if you need anything…”
“Yes, I know,” she said, patting her pocket where she’d put his card. “I’ll use Ma Bell to reach out and touch.”
His smile stilled as he gave her a dark, unreadable look.
“Touching is good,” he said quietly, and headed for the door, leaving Ally to put her own interpretation on what he’d just said.
A shudder racked her as she watched him leave. What on earth had she gotten herself into? Then she gritted her teeth and headed for her suitcase. The least she could do was unpack. There were a good four hours of daylight left and a beach to explore.
Something told her that this operation was going to take time. Easton Kirby didn’t strike her as malleable. As she went to the closet with an armful of clothes, she couldn’t help wondering why Jonah hadn’t just ordered this man back to active service. What sort of scenario could possibly have occurred that Jonah would allow a man’s personal life to interfere with his duty?
As East was dressing for dinner, he caught himself thinking of Ally Corbin again. It wasn’t the first time it had happened since her arrival, and something told him it wouldn’t be the last. There was something about her that intrigued him. She was such a mixture of contradictions. Naive, yet tough. He knew what it took to become an agent for SPEAR, so he respected that her skills equaled his own. Yet there was an innocence about her that surprised him. He had no way of knowing that naivete came in not knowing herself. She was beyond book smart, but she didn’t have the vaguest idea of how to live a normal life. She’d never been in love, she’d never even made love. Had he known, it might have changed his attitude completely. But all he saw was a beautiful and intriguing young woman who had endured and survived, and was here to heal.
He debated with himself about wearing a tie, then decided against it, opting for the casual look. For some reason, his mind slipped to Jonah, wondering if he’d found someone else to help him out. It had been a week since he’d gotten the call, and he hadn’t slept well one night since. Then he reminded himself that was part of his past and he couldn’t let it matter.
With a last glance in the mirror, he grabbed his sport coat and exited his apartment. It was time to make an appearance in the dining room.
The Condor Resort ran on schedules, not unlike those of a cruise ship, and sitting at the