Jordan took a seat at the conference table. She watched the blizzard that raged outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, dreading the snow she’d have to shovel when she got home. Perhaps she should look into getting one of those power snowblowers, she mused. Or a man. Either could be quite handy in inclement weather. Then again, snowblowers took up a lot of garage space, and she generally liked to keep at least a three-foot buffer around the Maserati. Not to mention, most of the men she met presumably had even less interest than she did in shoveling snow – they likely would hire someone else to do that kind of thing. The downside to dating Italian-loafer types, she supposed.

Maybe she needed to find more of a guy’s guy. One of those men who could start a fire with two sticks, could change a flat tire with one hand tied behind his back, and wasn’t afraid that a snow shovel would scuff his cashmerelined leather Burberry gloves.

The door flew open and in walked Nick McCall.

Someone, however, who at least knew what a razor was.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Rhodes,” he said.

As Huxley followed Nick into the conference room, Jordan noticed that both men had shed their coats. She also saw that they were armed, catching glimpses of the shoulder harnesses and guns they wore underneath their suit jackets.

“What happened to your file?” she asked.

“Would you believe it? We couldn’t find the darn thing,” Nick said. “Guess we’ll just have to march on without it.” He gave Huxley a nod.

“Everything we’re about to tell you is extremely confidential, Ms. Rhodes,” Huxley began. “You can tell no one about the purpose of this meeting.”

Easy enough for her to do, since she didn’t understand the purpose of the meeting. “All right.”

“You already know that this pertains to Xander Eckhart. For some time now, we’ve had him under investigation. We believe he’s running drug money through his nightclubs and restaurants for an organized crime syndicate led by Roberto Martino. You may have heard about the recent indictments of Martino and the others in his organization.” Huxley gave Jordan a moment to process all this.

“You seem surprised,” Nick said.

She shot him a look. “Of course I’m surprised. I had no idea Xander was mixed up in anything like this. You’re sure of this?”

Huxley nodded. “Yes. We’ve been watching Eckhart. We’ve seen him on several occasions with a man we know to be one of Martino’s associates. They meet in Eckhart’s office, which is located underneath the main level of his restaurant, Bordeaux.”

“The one down the hall from his wine cellar, you mean,” Jordan said.

Nick sat forward in his chair, interested in this. “You’ve been inside Eckhart’s office?”

“Yes. Last year at his Valentine’s Day party, he gave me a tour of the entire space at Bordeaux.”

“How well do you remember the interior of the office?” Huxley asked. “Would you be able to describe it, tell us the placement of the furniture, that kind of thing?”

“I can certainly try,” Jordan said. “Is that what this is about? You want me to describe Xander’s office to you?” It seemed too insignificant for all the secret-agent rigmarole.

Nick shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. What we want is for you to help us get inside Eckhart’s office. This Saturday night.”

It took her a moment. “You mean during the party?”

Nick folded his arms on the table. “How would you feel about bringing along an undercover agent as your date, Ms. Rhodes?”

Jordan leaned in to meet him halfway. “I think that depends on who the date is, Agent McCall.”

Next to Nick, Huxley pushed up his glasses. “Me.”

Jordan looked over, surprised. “Oh. Okay.”

“Try not to look so relieved,” Nick said dryly.

“Sorry. It’s just that Agent Huxley seems more …” She searched for the right word.

“Like a fancy-wine type?” Nick suggested sarcastically.

“I was about to say ‘pleasant.’ ”

“Actually, I have been doing a lot of research into wine for this assignment,” Huxley interjected. “From what I’ve read, Eckhart has quite an impressive collection.” He shot Nick a glance and cleared his throat. “Not that I’ll be drinking that evening, of course.”

From Huxley’s nervous look, Jordan guessed that Nick held some sort of position of authority over the younger agent. Another of the FBI’s questionable judgment calls. “So I bring you as my date, and then what happens?” she asked Huxley.

“I’ll break away from the party at some point and plant small recording devices in Eckhart’s office.”

They made it sound so easy. Then again, to them, maybe it was. “Tell me how my brother fits into this.”

Nick took the lead here. “The U.S. attorney has agreed to a reduction of your brother’s sentence to time served. If you cooperate with us, her office will file the motion on Monday. While waiting for the court to rule, we can arrange to have your brother transferred to home detention.”

Jordan studied both agents carefully. “What’s the catch? There has to be one, if you’re willing to give up Kyle. Several months ago, the U.S. attorney had a blast making a public spectacle of the case. His way of being tough on crime, I suppose.”

“The former U.S. attorney made a public spectacle of your brother’s case,” Nick corrected her. “The new one has a different agenda.”

“You need to be aware that with any undercover operation, there is some risk of danger,” Huxley added. “We think we can minimize the risk, but nevertheless, you should take that into consideration.”

“How long do I have to make my decision?” Jordan asked.

“I think we all know you’ve already made your decision, Ms. Rhodes,” Nick said.

How Jordan wished she could tell him that he didn’t know her half as well as he seemed to think he did. But unfortunately, in this case, he was right. “I have one condition. Kyle can’t know anything about our arrangement. He’d worry too much about me.”

“No one can know about this until it’s over,” Huxley emphasized. “To maintain the cover, everyone has to think I’m actually your date that evening.” He blushed. “Not that I’m suggesting we need to – ahem – get romantic or anything.”

Nick hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “So we have a deal?”

Despite the fact that Huxley would be her date on Saturday night, Jordan couldn’t help but think that she was about to get into bed with the devil.

A green-eyed one at that.

She nodded. “We have a deal.”


AT THE END of the meeting, Jordan and Huxley made arrangements to meet on Thursday evening, which was Martin’s night to close the shop. The plan was to go over the details for Saturday night then.

After they escorted her down to the lobby, Huxley turned to Nick. “Why don’t I take Jordan home?” He smiled at her. “It’ll give me time to learn more about my new date.” He gestured to the snow falling steadily outside the windows. “I’m not parked as close as Nick, so I’ll pull the car around front.” That decided, he slid on his gloves and hurried off.

Leaving Jordan and Nick alone.

She eyed him warily, bracing herself for another irksome remark since those seemed to be his specialty. What he said instead surprised her.

“So I guess this is it.”

“You won’t be around for the big event Saturday night?” she asked.

“Oh, I’ll be there,” he assured her. “But I’ll be parked a few blocks away from Bordeaux, in a van with our tech team, making sure the recording devices are working correctly. So if you do see me Saturday, that means something has gone very wrong with this undercover op.”

A silence fell between Jordan and Nick. She tried to ignore the weight of his gaze, but found this impossible. “What?”

“I was just thinking that your brother is lucky to have a sister who’s willing to do something like this for him.”

Jordan brushed her bangs out of her eyes, not having expected an actual compliment from him. And yes, her screwup of a twin was very lucky. But the truth of the matter was, she knew he’d do the same for her in a heartbeat. “Kyle deserves a break.” She saw the skeptical look on Nick’s face and sighed. “Go ahead, Agent McCall. Whatever it is you’d like to say about my brother, I’ve heard it all before.”

“I have two brothers myself, Ms. Rhodes. I understand family loyalty.”

She waited for the rest. “But?”

“But your brother did break the law. About ten of them, in fact. He hijacked a global communications network and created widespread panic by causing an outage that affected tens of millions of people.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “You can cut the dramatic lingo, Mr. FBI. My brother hacked into Twitter and shut down the site after his girlfriend posted a link to a video of her fooling around in a hot tub with another guy.”

“He crashed the entire site for two days. In the most advanced denial-of-service attack anyone has ever seen.”

“It was Twitter. Not the Department of Defense’s website, or the NSA’s. That guy who shut down Facebook last year only got a fine and community service. But in this case, the U.S. attorney – sorry, the former U.S. attorney – argued to the judge that a fine wouldn’t be harsh enough for Kyle because of my father’s money. Too bad for Kyle that he and I don’t live off my father’s money.”

Nick pointed. “Your ride’s here.”

Jordan paused midrant and looked through the windows. She saw Huxley’s car out front. Another SUV, although this one was a Range Rover.

She turned back to Nick. “Tell me something. Are you trying to get a rise out of me, or does being this irritating come naturally to you?”