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Barely Undercover: Legal Heat Book 2(15)

By:Sarah Castille


She bristled at the harsh words he threw at her beloved Jetta. “He would never have recognized me and I could have talked my way out of it. You know that. I went along with your little show because I had nothing better to do with my time. But in the end, I didn’t need you. Just like I didn’t need you two years ago. Just like I don’t need you now.”

Shocked by her own harsh words, she slammed her lips together. She had never in her life been purposely mean. Not even to her father who had all but ignored her in favor of her two older brothers after her mother died. But then she had never been as badly hurt. The pain Levi had inflicted had been skin deep—superficial wounds that had disappeared within days, sometimes weeks. But James had bruised her heart, and seeing him again only opened up a wound she had long thought healed.

James tightened his jaw. “We need to—”

The Jetta finally sputtered to life, cutting him off. She hit the gas, speeding across the grass like there was no tomorrow.

But there was a Saturday. And Hades was in it.





James waited until Lana was safely away before walking across the field to the small clearing where he’d parked his motorcycle, a custom Harley Rocker. Life hadn’t prepared him for moments like this. Duty had always been the dominant force driving him forward. From a family background steeped in law enforcement, James had adhered to tradition and entered the police force, rising through the ranks from the beat to drug enforcement, then to homicide and finally undercover. A clear path. But now duty warred with desire and a soul-deep longing he’d spent the last two years trying to deny.

Lana’s scent still lingered on his clothes, her warmth on his skin. But it was her fire that drew him, aroused him. Beneath the flames smoldered a passion he had been—was still—helpless to resist.

He drove the short distance to the airplane hangar and parked alongside the motorcycles of Rex’s closest advisors. He could only hope—with Rex’s entire inner circle present—the discussion would turn to the club’s latest drug-smuggling scheme. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police Drug Enforcement Unit (DEU) had assured James his wiretap recordings had given them enough evidence to justify a raid on the club. They just needed an opportunity and some hard evidence.

He stopped at the keypad and punched in the code, then checked his wire. Although Rex had no compunction about announcing the club’s presence to the world with the garish patch artwork over the door, he was almost obsessive about security. The clubhouse was impenetrable, thanks to a state-of-the-art security system. If he ever found out James had been recording his conversations over the last two years, he would kill James on the spot. And if he found out Lana was sniffing around Hades…

James shook his head. Her disguise had been damned good. If he hadn’t recognized her Jetta, even he might not have known her in that blonde wig, her beautiful body hidden under those bulky clothes. He knew from past experience, Lana could talk her way out of almost anything, except with him. Rex would likely have bought her story.

But now he had a bigger problem. If Lana was investigating Hades, he had to stop her. Not only could she compromise his cover, she would likely get herself killed. Problem was, stopping Lana when she was set on a course of action was next to impossible.

The door swung open and he walked inside. The twenty-thousand-square-foot space had been completely renovated and now housed an office, workout area, showers and bathrooms, kitchen, full bar, two lounges, media room, pool table and a suite of bedrooms on the second floor where he, Ryder and most of the single club members lived.

Dawg and Punch were sprawled on the couches in Rex’s office. Bones and Diesel had dragged in a few chairs. Ryder leaned against a wall, his arms folded. Rex, as always, reclined in his oversized leather chair, feet propped up on his desk. All of them were dressed in leathers and black T-shirts, the unofficial Hades uniform.

“She gone?”

“Sent her home.” James took a seat beside Dawg. The high-ranking member of Rex’s inner circle had released his long, wavy brown hair from its usual hair tie, and it brushed over his shoulders as he turned and nodded a greeting. With his long, thin face and slender frame, he now, more than ever, resembled his namesake, the chocolate lab curled at his feet.

“Heard you’d found yourself a bitch.” Dawg barked a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day. She must have one sweet pussy to take your attention away from the club. I was beginning to think we were all you had in your pathetic life.”

“Just you, Dawg. You’re all I fucking need.” He feigned the usual banter, even going so far as to blow Dawg a kiss, but his mind was on Lana. He couldn’t let her anywhere near the barbeque. It had been hard enough to pull off the old-lady act in the field in front of Rex. How could he keep it up for an entire afternoon? All the old emotions had come surging to the fore, and for a moment she’d been his again and he’d forgotten they’d ever been apart.