Luther fought against his impatience as he locked gazes with Kit Danilenko. He’d worked as an FBI agent for ten years and an undercover agent for Trail Hikers the last two years. A case took as long as it took. It didn’t go by any preconceived timelines, no matter how much experience an agent had. He should know—he’d worked on cases from Moscow to Mumbai, Afghanistan to Alabama. They’d all played out differently and over varied lengths of time, from a few days to months on end.
He didn’t want to have to explain anything to Kit—time spent on anything but taking down their ROC targets was wasted. Why now, in the most important case of his career to date, was he being assigned a damn unsworn? Frustration warred with common sense. He didn’t doubt her language abilities and knew he needed them. But to go into the woods where Ivanov lurked with anyone but another officer capable of handling weapons wasn’t high on his list of desirables. Not when they were running against the clock with Ivanov’s planned attempted takeover.
“I understand that undercover can take weeks, months, even longer. I want to make sure I plan appropriately.” Kit raised her chin, emphasizing her high cheekbones, and he saw the flash of defiance—aimed directly at him—in her deep sapphire eyes. Her moon-pale hair was pulled back into a professional French braid but he imagined it was long, straight and silky when down.
What the hell was he doing, thinking about how her hair would feel in bed? In bed? He let out a long sigh. It’d been so long since he’d had time to even think about going on a date, or better, bedding a woman, that he was easily distracted.
Dating colleagues wasn’t necessarily off-limits, but one he was working with in an operational capacity—most definitely forbidden in his mind.
Focus on her uniform. The problem was that her “uniform” was a white blouse, black jacket and black dress pants. Plain enough, and appropriate for an unsworn official. But he sensed that Kit Danilenko was attractive no matter what she wore, because even in this otherwise nondescript suit it was impossible for her to hide her feminine curves. Which he’d noticed the minute she’d walked into Colt Todd’s office. Tight but curvy ass, the kind a woman who knew her way around a gym might have. Full breasts that her button shirt did little to hide. And under that blouse he’d bet she had a tiny waist, with tight abs to match.
Fuuuudge.
“The deal is this, folks. I want you in place well before hunter’s Monday, and it’ll have to be over Thanksgiving. Sorry to bust your holiday plans, but this is critical. You’ll head out to the area no later than early next week. Since Luther has a Jeep, you’ll use that, to prevent the risk of the station’s unmarked cars being a giveaway to ROC. We can’t underestimate their operational intelligence at any point. Plan on being there for at least two weeks, but realistically I hope to hell it’s not that long. It might take a while for Ivanov to show his face again, though. In the meantime, narrow down where the cell phone hits are coming from, and if you can do it, where he’s staying. Determine if Markova’s with him, on her own or otherwise. See if any other ROC are there. You know what’s expected.” Colt looked at Luther, and he nodded at the law enforcement veteran. Luther respected Colt immensely, not in the least because Colt’s wife, Claudia, was the director of Trail Hikers. The woman was as much of a powerhouse as Colt, even more so in reality.
“How...how big are the cabins?” Kit licked her lips and Luther forced himself to return his gaze to the notes on his phone. This could end up being a very long two weeks. If she was as good as he suspected, because Claudia and Colt wouldn’t send anyone less into the field to conduct surveillance against Ivanov, it wouldn’t be more than seventy-two hours. He’d done enough of these types of missions in the past.
None with a woman as mysterious as Kit.
“Most are one room, with bunks or several twin beds. They’re made as places to drop off food and clothing while you spend all day in the woods, hunting. You’ll both need full hunting gear, rifles, you know—all that makes you appear as the average Central Pennsylvania hunter.” Colt’s explanation kept Luther’s thoughts from going totally into the sexual fantasy realm. “But I’d suggest that, unlike a regular hunting trip, you go light on the Yuengling.” He smiled as he spoke of locally brewed beer that was a nationwide favorite. “Although you might need a break here and there. There’s no telling how long it may take.”
Great. So not only was he going to be working with an unsworn, but Colt thought they were going to be indefinitely in a one-hundred-square-foot room.
“Have you ever fired a weapon?” He was compelled to ask the question. It was fair, but the guarded look in her eyes had an effect he never expected.
He felt like the lowest form of dog crap.
“I’ve fired weapons before, yes. But as an unsworn, it’s not in my job description.” Claudia’s words came back to him. The part about Kit still climbing out of ground zero. Kit might not be an operational agent with his experience, but he didn’t know half the hell she’d lived through, could only imagine it. She deserved his respect.
“Kit’s not authorized to use a weapon in her administrative position here, Luther. Although since she’s with you, I wouldn’t expect her to have to.” Colt Todd’s meaning was clear. Kit was to work comms, period. She’d translate the nuances Luther might miss in any conversations or activity they monitored. He’d protect them both if need be.
Luther nodded. “Got it.”
“Now that you’ve ‘got it,’ where do I meet you?” Kit’s gaze was still on him, and he gave her points for not losing any sense of authority because of his query. His awareness of her was on hyperdrive even as he mentally acknowledged she was his law enforcement partner for the next several days or even weeks.
This was absolutely ridiculous and grossly unfair. Why, when he finally met a woman who turned him on so elementally, did she have to be not only an operational partner but such a young one?
She’s at most only five years younger than you.
“Ah, we’ll exchange contact information, and I’ll text you when and where. It’s got to look like a legit hunting gig, so let’s have you drive to my place and leave your car there, then we’ll head out.”
“Sounds good.” He detected a very slight accent, but in actuality, Kit sounded and spoke like any other American. She was definitely talented with languages, because he had trouble with foreign language speakers when they slipped into local dialects and accents. American English had many variations, and not just in the expected places like down south. He’d noticed that some of the Central Pennsylvania locals still relied upon more “country” idioms, saying fixin’ to do instead of I’m going to and using needs plus the past tense of the verb, like my car needs cleaned instead of needs to be cleaned. He found the less grammatical expressions comforting after so many months working in and around New York City and its fast pace, matched by hurried conversations.
“Okay, folks, why don’t you stay here and work it all out. Feel free to use my office as long as you need. I have to go meet my wife for lunch.” Colt stood and shrugged into a blue blazer, his holster hidden by the oversize garment. “I have the utmost trust in both of you.” Colt leveled a glance at Kit.
“You okay with this, Kit?”
She smiled at her boss, the connection between them palpably full of mutual respect.
“Yes, I’m fine with all of it. Thank you so much for this opportunity, Chief.” Kit sounded as if Colt had told her she’d won the lottery. Discomfort tugged at Luther’s conscience. When was the last time he’d been so grateful for his job?
Before you got burned by Evalina.
He brushed aside the errant thought. Yeah, he’d all but died at the hands of an ROC wife last year, in the bowels of the worst part of Brighton Beach. So what? It didn’t have to affect this case, or his feelings toward Kit Danilenko. She wasn’t a mob wife anymore, at least. Never had been, not willingly, from what he’d pieced together between his and Claudia’s earlier discussion and meeting Kit.
Kit’s initial nervous energy upon being called into Colt’s office and meeting Luther was dispelled at the reality of having to prepare for an undercover operation. Only a year ago the possibility of working an op one-on-one, alone, with a man might have been impossible. She had to give herself credit for how far she’d come, thanks to her therapist and all the other work she’d poured into her recovery. As she took measure of Luther, she had to bite the inside of her lower lip to stop from grinning. Not once had the thought that Luther might be a physical threat to her occurred. It was the tiny bud of attraction that was the surprise reaction to the man. And her sexual desires weren’t something she’d explored since gaining her freedom from Vadim and beginning her new life at SVPD, so she forgave herself if her body wanted to have a crush on Luther.
She ignored any fluttering wings in her gut at the sight of the man and focused on what she needed. Information.
“What kind of equipment will we use to hear their conversations? Colt mentioned TH technology, which I’m familiar with but not as much as SVPD gear. Do I need training on anything new?” She had experience with SVPD’s and Trail Hikers’ undercover vans but technology quickly changed, and different equipment could have slight but significant abilities.
“Claudia said you’ve already worked with the listening unit I’m bringing. It’s on a portable rack that fits on a back seat.” He told her the model number, and Luther’s voice was low and intensely masculine, but in a nonthreatening way.
Kit recognized the comms unit. She’d used it when they’d staked out a couple of ROC operatives last month. She nodded. “I’m familiar with it.”
“If we need to be in place by next week, we’ll have to get our supplies sometime before this weekend. Then we can get together and go over what we’ve gathered.” Luther tapped into his phone.
“Are you making a shopping list?”
His long, adept fingers stopped and he looked at her. “As a matter of fact, I am. We’ll get the hunting gear at the sporting goods store and the groceries at another spot.”
“Okay. There are several groceries sprinkled across town. Are you familiar with Silver Valley?”
“Briefly. I moved into an apartment last night.”
“Where?”
“Downtown, on Main Street.”
Her interest piqued.
“That sounds like where my place is.” Kit felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself have a conversation with such a powerful man without any sense of danger. She’d never tell someone she’d just met where she lived, or even intimate where her place was.
Yet she imagined having a long cup of coffee while telling Luther her life story. Odd.
“There are are a lot of small units and rooms for rent downtown.” Luther dismissed her comment, clearly distracted by his list making as he stared at his phone.
“Back to the supplies, why don’t you get the hunting gear and I’ll get the groceries? Send me the list you have so far. I’ll take care of the rest. Any food concerns or allergies?” She picked up her phone from where it rested on top of her notebook and asked him for his contact information, which she used to send him her info.
He gave her his number and then responded to her other question. “I have no allergies, except maybe poison ivy.”
“You’ve reacted to it before, then?” She’d seen enough of the noxious vine growing on the property she and Vadim had lived on when she’d been an unwilling partner in his life.
“I have. Last summer when I was working an op I got it all over my back. It wasn’t pleasant.”
She wondered how he’d gotten it on his back and not elsewhere, imagining him lying shirtless on a lawn or forest floor but quickly banished the vision. Not something she wanted to process here in front of him. They had work to do.
“I know what it looks like, and I’ll do anything around it for us if needed. I’ve never reacted to it. But sounds like we’ll be inside for the most part, right?”
Luther shook his head. “No, actually we’re going to need to play the part of average hunters, so getting out and about will be part of our cover.”
“You mean yours—I’m going as your support. I’m not really an agent.”
“But you are, for this op, right?” Luther leaned back, his eyes sparkling with interest. “You’ve never hunted before, have you?”
“No.” Images of people being shot when she was saved by SVPD and Trail Hikers a few years ago flashed through her mind. She’d never fire a weapon at an innocent animal. “It’s not my thing. But I understand that for a lot of families, the one deer they get over this weekend feeds them for a good part of the year.”
“That’s responsible hunting, yes. And I’d hope that in the middle of Pennsylvania, that’s the norm.”
“As compared to?” She wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Trophy hunting. Paying top dollar to be able to shoot down an endangered species.”
“Oh.” Her gut sank as memories flooded her. Vadim had had rhino tusks displayed in their house like badges of honor. They’d always disgusted her. “Yes, I’m familiar with that. And aren’t they usually overseas?”
“Most, yes.” Luther leaned forward on his knees. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you with talk of trophy hunting.”
“You didn’t.” She lied. Luther wasn’t a proven entity yet, no matter how much all indicators showed he was a trustworthy person. Just because he was a valuable agent who did his job well and was trusted by Colt and Claudia didn’t mean he was someone she could trust with her personal reflections. “I, um, am familiar with trophy hunting. It’s abominable. And nothing like a good hunter, male or female, helping keep the deer population down and providing for their family.”
Luther appraised her, and she saw something in his eyes that looked promising, hopeful. “We’re on the same page there.”
“Do you hunt?” She tried to imagine him in the woods, tracking a deer.
“No. Not a hunter, but I do appreciate my solitude in the woods, or mountains. I don’t get a lot of time to do that, not with this job.”
“I understand. Since I’ve worked for SVPD and TH, I’ve learned to grab my free time where and how I can.” For her, that often meant a night curled up with a sweater that she was knitting, while watching a streamed program about house organizing. A sigh escaped her lips. How long had it been since she’d made it to the local yarn shop’s knit and chat? Too long.
“That’s the life of law enforcement.” Luther stood and she followed, aware again of how much taller than her he was. She put him at six-two. “Why don’t we meet up on Sunday, after you get the groceries and I get the gear? Oh, I’m going to need your sizes for the hunting camo clothing.”
“I’m a small in most things, a medium will work, too. I have plenty of jeans and outdoor leggings I’ll bring along, and I have hiking boots. Should we meet here on Sunday to see what we have and figure out how to pack it all in a Jeep? We’ll have the conference room to ourselves, unless something big breaks.”
“No, if we’re going undercover we need to do it from the get-go. Which means either you come to my place or I to yours. We can sort our supplies like any other hunters would.”
She swallowed. No man had been in her apartment, ever. But this was work, and Colt trusted her. If Colt recommended Luther, she had nothing to worry about.
“I’ll text you my address. See you Sunday.” Before she lost her nerve, she walked out of the office and into the ladies’ room. Kit needed a quiet moment alone to check in with her emotions, to make sure she wasn’t setting herself up for an anxiety or PTSD flare.
But as she sat on the sofa she and several other female officers had commandeered for the restroom, she knew that her PTSD wasn’t what was igniting in reaction to Luther’s proximity. It was something far more pleasant, albeit unwanted.