SEAL Undercover

Chapter 6

A large black Bell 525 chopper with no markings picked them up at exactly one o'clock the next day. After one stop for refueling, the helo landed them on a horse farm at about five-thirty in the afternoon. Max spent most of the time on the trip reviewing the material on a tablet Si handed him when he arrived. He was impressed with the amount of wealth and power that would be represented at this gathering and realized how important it was not to forget one little detail that involved these people.

A black SUV with blacked out windowsMax wondered if the government only had one color for every means of transportationwaited to transport them to the house. As they pulled up to a gate set into heavy fieldstone posts, the driver punched a code into the security box, and the massive sections of the gate swung open.

"The entire perimeter of the grounds is connected to the security system, too," Si told him. "That gate we just drove through can be electrified with a punch of a button if someone tries to climb it. Plus, there are ten cameras strategically placed, all monitored both at the house and at the headquarters of the security firm that's on permanent retainer."

Max looked at his friend. "These are no ordinary rich people, Si."

Si shook his head. "No, they're not. In fact, I can't even tell you the reason for all this security. Just suffice it to say this is the safest place in DC for us to have this meeting."

The vehicle drove directly into the garage and, moments later, Si was showing him to the massive bedroom that would be his for the next five days.

"I opted out of taking you to D.C. itself," Si explained. "Since we don't know who the top dog is yet, the one who we assume expects to rule the world, I didn't want to put you in a position where someone might ask questions."

"Smart." Max nodded and looked around. "Anyway, I'm sure whatever you had doesn't compare to this."

The best description he could come up with for the enormous house was sparsely opulent. From the vast great room that looked out on immaculate landscaping to the kitchen with every conceivable appliance to the en suite bedrooms that surpassed any hotel he'd ever stayed in, the place spelled money and lots of it.

"I hope you guys didn't have to pay rent for this," he joked.

Si grinned. "It belongs to people with old money who don't like interlopers trying to take over their country. All my boss had to do was ask, and it was ours."

Max nodded. "I think I can handle it here."

"Good, because you and your new wife will be here for five days being briefed and getting to know each other."

Max could hardly wait. When he'd been bemoaning the lack of female companionship in his life, this wasn't exactly what he'd meant.

Si and another person from his office spent the afternoon and a good part of the evening giving him background on the cabal whose meeting he'd be attending.

The next morning he was barely out of the shower, dressed, and in the great room drinking coffee when Si arrived with the same man he'd been with yesterday, carrying a large supply of pastries from something called Morning Glory.

"Do I have to leave some for anyone else?" Max joked, his mouth watering.

"You'd better. This is Regan's favorite bakery, and she might take your head off if you don't."

Great, he thought. A computer nerd whose favorite place was a bakery with a cutesy name and who hoarded pastries. It was a good thing this secret meeting he was going to was only planned for a few days. He'd have to get all the information and get out as fast as possible.

"So, where is my pseudo wife, anyway?" Max picked up a glazed pastry puff with a cream filling and took a bite of it. Holy s**t! His taste buds began doing a happy dance. Si hadn't been kidding about the quality of the goods. "She'd better hurry if she wants any of these goodies."

"There'd better be some for me," a female voice called out, "or this project is called off."

Si laughed. "I figured I'd shoot him if he ate too many."

Max looked up as three people came through the front door and into the great room. He thought it was a good thing he had put down his coffee mug or he'd have spilled the liquid all over himself. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Si had shown him a picture of Regan Shaw on the helo ride from Maine, but a casual phone shot did not do her justice. All he could think now as she walked into the room was, Holy f**k! This is my wife?

His mouth went dry, and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time, if ever, a woman had this kind of impact on him. This was no military groupie or a self-involved woman looking for a night of hot s*x. He was instantly hard, his c**k pressing against the fly of his slacks, a reaction he hadn't had to any female in too long a time. Even his balls tingled. He might have to find a moment to take himself in hand so he didn't attack her the minute they were alone.

He guessed her height to be about five foot six. The dark-green sweater and beige slacks she wore, although not tight or clinging, still did little to disguise her lusciously rounded body, hitting her breasts and hips at just the right angle. Auburn hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face with creamy skin. This was no office nerd or timid techno geek. This was a woman, with a capital W.

His mouth watered just at the sight of her. Instead of worrying about how he was going to pass her off as his wife he was more concerned with being able to keep his hands to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd reacted to a woman this way. It was…well…okay, never. He'd had many women that made him hot and horny. But none had ever caused a full body reaction like this one.

Si bent his head to whisper in his ear. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, Max. Better men than you have lusted after her. No deal."

"I'm not"

But that was as far as he got. The woman came toward him, smiling warmly and holding out her hand.

"Regan Shaw," she told him. "I'm happy to meet you. I understand we're going to be married?"

Max nearly swallowed his tongue, while Si just laughed out loud.

"Your wife's not shy," he joked.

"I see that." Max held her hand perhaps a shade longer than he should. It was firm, and there was strength in her grip, but the skin was soft. Enticing

Jesus, Max. Get a grip, and not on her hand. Or any other part of her body.

He released it and took a step back, just as the front door opened again and two more men entered the house.

"We having a party?" he asked Si under his breath.

"If only. Come on. Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew."

Five minutes later, Max found himself seated at the big dining room table, a mug of coffee at hand and two platters of mouthwatering pastries set out on the table. He couldn't help noticing that Regan Shaw had two of them on a plate in front of her. Interesting. Every woman he'd ever known had avoided food like that as if it was poison. Either she didn't care or she worked out like crazy. Or was she one of those lucky people with a racing metabolism.