Double Identity

“Why Didn’t You Tell Me This Was Your First Time?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Carina said.

“You could have warned me, at least. I practically leaped on you.” Jude frowned.

She smiled. “I thought it was great.”

“Well—” he looked down at her “—I’m glad you think so, but I should have taken more time with you. I was too rough, too eager. I wanted you so badly.”

“You made it a marvelous experience for me.”

“I thought that since you were—I mean, you were engaged, so it seemed reasonable that you had, uh, that you had—” He sighed, looking glum.

“You know, I understand there are men who actually want to be the first one with a woman.”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Probably. It’s more important to me that I be the last one.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you for choosing Silhouette Desire. As always, we have a fabulous array of stories for you to enjoy, starting with Just a Taste by Bronwyn Jameson, the latest installment in our DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS continuity series. This tale of forbidden attraction between two romance-wary souls will leave you breathless and wanting more from this wonderful author—who will have a brand-new miniseries of her own, PRINCES OF THE OUTBACK, out later this year.

The terrific Annette Broadrick is back with another book in her CRENSHAWS OF TEXAS series. Double Identity is an engrossing page-turner about seduction and lies…you know, all that good stuff! Susan Crosby continues her BEHIND CLOSED DOORS series with Rules of Attraction, the first of three brand-new stories set in the world of very private investigations. Roxanne St. Claire brings us a fabulous McGrath brother hero caught in an unexpected situation, in When the Earth Moves. Rochelle Alers’s THE BLACKSTONES OF VIRGINIA series wraps up with Beyond Business, a story in which the Blackstone patriarch gets involved in a surprise romance with his new—and very pregnant—assistant. And last but certainly not least, the engaging Amy Jo Cousins is back this month with Sleeping Arrangements, a terms-of-the-will story not to be missed.

Here’s hoping you enjoy all six of our selections this month. And, in the months to come, look for Maureen Child’s THREE-WAY WAGER series and a brand-new installment of our infamous TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB.

Happy reading!

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor

Silhouette Desire

Double Identity

Annette Broadrick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANNETTE BROADRICK

believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series, the Romantic Times WISH Award; and the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

One

Jude Crenshaw’s phone rang at seven o’clock, waking him from a deep, exhausted sleep at his condo in Fort Meade, Maryland. He fumbled for the phone without opening his eyes.

“Crenshaw,” he mumbled.

“This is Ms. Kincaid’s office calling. One moment, please.” He was put on hold. Kincaid was his supervisor at the National Security Agency.

Jude had worked for the agency for the past four years. He’d been hired as a civilian after leaving the army, where he’d been in Special Ops. He had been in the field until six months ago when he’d been promoted to a supervisory position.

He couldn’t imagine why Jackie Kincaid would be calling him at home at this time of morning. He sat up, rubbed his hand over his face and swung his legs to the floor.

“Jude? Jackie. Sorry to bother you so early. I tried to reach you yesterday, but you must have been incommunicado. I couldn’t get my calls to go through on your cell phone so I could leave a message.”

“I’ve been on the west coast for the past two weeks. Got home in the wee hours this morning.”

“I know you’re on vacation this week but something’s come up here that needs your presence.”

“Staff problems?”

“Nothing like that. We need you at an interdepartmental meeting at nine.”

He frowned. “What department?”

“DEA.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Do you think you can get here by that time?”

Jude yawned and said, “Sure. No problem.”

“Great. See you then.”

Jude stood and stretched. His body was still on Pacific Standard Time, which meant he was having to function at four in the morning.

He went into his kitchen and made a pot of coffee that would be ready by the time he finished his shower. In the bathroom, his bleary-eyed gaze looked back at him from the mirror.

He needed a haircut.

He’d been out in the sun quite a bit while in southern California, so that his skin was deeply tanned and his blond hair lighter than usual.

Jude showered and shaved, dressed and returned to the kitchen for his caffeine fix. After his first cup, he filled a thermos cup with the rest of the coffee to drink on the way to work and went into the garage where he kept his baby.

His two-seater late-model Porsche spent more time in the garage than out on the road. He’d been looking forward to a few days off so he could take her out, wind her up and put her through her paces. The car was the love of his life, and why not? She was always waiting at home when he got there, never complained about the hours he kept, didn’t demand attention and didn’t eat him out of house and home while he was away.

He hit the garage-door button as he stepped through the door and slid behind the wheel. When he turned on the engine, he smiled at the whisper of sound. She was purring for him.

Jude drove to the NSA office complex sipping on his coffee, determined not to let the rush-hour traffic disturb him. Once there, he went to his office, checked his mail and headed down the hall to Kincaid’s office.

He stopped at the desk of Kincaid’s assistant, who looked up from opening the morning mail and saw him.

“Welcome back, Blue Eyes,” Justine said, her expression mischievous. “I like the tan. Wish I had nothing better to do than lie around on a beach all day soaking up some rays.”

He lifted one eyebrow and said, “Yeah, me, too. I have an appointment with Jackie.”

“Go right in. Mm-mm. I swear, that tan shows you off quite nicely. You probably have to fight off all the women you meet.”

He shook his head and grinned. “Not so’s you’d notice.”

Justine was in her midthirties, happily married with three young daughters. She’d teased him ever since she’d met him that he’d be her pick for a son-in-law if he’d only wait to find a bride until her daughters were grown.

He tapped on Jackie’s door and walked inside.

Three men and a woman sat in front of Jackie’s desk. They turned to look at him, their faces grim.

One of the men stood and turned to face Jude.

He looked to be in his late forties, possibly early fifties, with thick dark hair liberally sprinkled with gray. The man looked trim, probably worked out several times each week. His eyes missed nothing about Jude and Jude caught himself before he polished his shoe on the back of his pants leg.

“Jude, this is Sam Watson from the Drug Enforcement Agency. With him are three of his agents: John Greene, Hal Pennington and Ruth Littlefield.” The agents stood and Jude shook hands with each of them.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s go into the conference room where we’ll have a little more room,” Jackie said, and led the way out of her office.

Once they were seated around the conference table, Jackie said, “Sam, I’ll let you explain to Jude why you wanted to see him.”

Watson smiled, transforming his craggy face, and Jude decided that the man was younger than he appeared at first glance.

“Thanks, Jackie,” Watson replied. He turned to Jude. “I have a major problem with my San Antonio office at the moment. One of my men was killed last week and we have reason to believe that another agent was responsible.”

Jude straightened. “Damn. That’s really tough.” He glanced at the other agents. “You’ve got to trust the man who’s got your back.”

If possible, they looked even grimmer as each one nodded.

“I need to get someone down there who I can trust and who can go undercover for us. In my search, I came across your file. You’ve worked covert operations for several years.”

“That’s true.”

“And you’re from Texas.”

Jude grinned. “Can’t deny that, either.”

“I also found out that your family is well-known in Texas.”

“Well, there’s a lot of us there, I’ll admit.”

“You would be ideal for what I want to do.”

Jude nodded and waited.

“Here’s the deal. For the past several months we’ve been investigating a family by the name of Patterson. They own an import/export business which we believe they’re using to smuggle arms, drugs and an assortment of contraband into the United States.

“Gregg, the agent who died, was one of several working to obtain evidence against the Pattersons because we need to get them behind bars as quickly as possible, especially now that we think they bribed an agent or two to look the other way. The Pattersons seem to be one step ahead of us no matter what we plan, so it’s obvious they’re getting their information from somewhere inside our group. We’ve made raids and found nothing and we’re being accused of harassing honest businessmen.”

Watson paused and poured some water from a pitcher nearby into a glass. Once he’d drunk some, he continued.

“Two days before he died, Gregg skipped the chain of command and contacted me on his own. He said he was suspicious of two of the other agents. He felt the investigation had turned up some important information that had not been passed on. He told me he planned to find out what was going on. I told him to call me as soon as he found out. That was the last time I heard from him. A few days later he was killed in an automobile accident.”

“Sounds like somebody figured out that he’d reported to you.”

“That’s my take on the matter. I pretended to believe that Gregg’s death was an accident and told the local agents to drop the investigation for lack of evidence, so the Pattersons must feel they’re working in the clear now.”

Jude frowned. “Where do I fit into this?”

“We need someone we can trust who is trained in undercover work to keep the investigation going. John, Hal and Ruth are from our Virginia office and they’ll be your team. They aren’t known to anyone in the San Antonio office and they’ll be working with you to find out who killed Gregg.

“What we need is someone who can get close to the family without raising suspicion. When I discovered your background, your impressive record and your family’s reputation, I asked Jackie if I could borrow you for the next several months to work for us.”

Jude scratched his chin. “It’s been a few months since I did any undercover work.”

“I doubt that you’ve forgotten much. You were damned good at what you did.”

“If I understand correctly, you want me to go to San Antonio as myself, get involved with the Patterson family and find evidence of illegal activities.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea how I’m supposed to get close to them?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. The Patterson family includes a twenty-five-year-old daughter who happens to be single. We want you to arrange to meet her and ask her out. If you two start dating, the rest of the family will grow used to seeing you around and won’t be suspicious of you.”

“You want me to date her?”

“Correct.”

“What if she isn’t interested in dating me?”

“Oh, with your charm, good looks and the added benefit of being from a well-known Texas family, I think she’ll be interested enough to accept a date with you. After that, you’ll have to play it by ear. The more often you see her, the better.”

Jude looked at Jackie and then at the other three. He noticed that Ruth looked amused. “I may have good covert skills but I’m lacking in the charm-and-good-looks part. I’m not what anyone would call a ladies’ man.”

Watson replied, “Guess you’d better learn, because that’s going to be your cover when you move there. We’ve rented a large house for the four of you while you’re there. It’s in a gated community with good security.”

Jude studied his hands. “So I’m supposed to be a ladies’ man, huh?”

“You’ll be a free-wheeling playboy with too much time on his hands. Get a reputation for being seen with beautiful women and get involved in the arts.”

Jude straightened. “The arts? Are you kidding me?”

“The daughter—her name is Carina—is a pianist. She was in her third year of study at Juilliard when her father fell ill, so she returned to Texas, rented an apartment in San Antonio and plans to finish school in another year.

“You need to show an interest in music, donate money to worthy causes and figure out the best way to approach her. Developing a close friendship with her is crucial if we’re going to put them behind bars.”

“Is she part of the smuggling?”

“Hard to tell at this point. She could be. Part of your job will be to find out. I’m convinced we can make this work.”

Jude nodded. “All right, if you think I can help, I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” Sam said, standing up. Jackie, Jude and the agents stood, as well. Watson placed his briefcase on the table, opened it and handed Jude a fat file. “Here are the dossiers on each member of the family.”

Jude picked up the file. “When do you want me to start?”

Sam smiled sardonically. “Yesterday?”

Jude nodded. “Gotcha.”

Two

Six Months Later

He spotted her as soon as she walked into the ballroom.

Carina Patterson was petite. For tonight’s benefit for the San Antonio Symphony she’d chosen to wear a short, flame-red dress, sleeveless with a mandarin collar, the color in stark contrast to her fair skin and dark hair. Her lipstick matched the dress, emphasizing a sultry mouth.

She was more beautiful in person than in the several photographs he had of her. He watched as she spoke to some of the guests. Studying her, he realized that her beauty was enhanced by her vivacious manner and sparkling smile.

He enjoyed watching her walk across the room. She had a rhythm about her as though she moved to the sound of music that only she could hear.

Jude stood near the open bar with several of the movers and shakers of San Antonio society and listened with half an ear to their conversation. He glanced around the room, which glittered from the expensive chandeliers and the jewelry that adorned the women attending the benefit. The murmur of voices filled the room, drowning out the soft music being played by a small orchestra.

“Jude, we can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done tonight for the symphony,” Graham Scott, San Antonio’s mayor, said. “They’ve been struggling to survive for a long while.”

“I’m pleased to see such a strong turnout,” Jude replied. “With the proceeds from tonight’s tickets as well as the merchandise donated for the silent auctions, the symphony should have enough money to cover their operating costs for the coming year.”

“When we first discussed this benefit,” Glenn Kingston, one of the businessmen in the group, said, “we knew we’d have to deduct the cost of the event from ticket sales. Because of your generosity, all the money raised will be available for operating costs. We owe you a great debt of appreciation, Crenshaw.”

Jude grinned. “Don’t worry. I can afford it.”

The other three men laughed at his matter-of-fact statement. Of course he could afford it. He was a Crenshaw of Texas, after all.

Since arriving in San Antonio, he’d diligently built up his image as a rich and rather indolent playboy. He’d made the rounds of art shows, museum functions and symphony performances. He’d made certain that he was seen with a beautiful woman, always a different one, at each of the functions, which quite often put his face in the society section of the paper.

His reputation was now in full swing. Not one of these men had much respect for his lifestyle. Oh, they played the political game. Each man knew that he didn’t want to get crossways with a Crenshaw, even if this particular one didn’t have much ambition. So he was received everywhere, including the country club where he played golf with several members.

Now it was time to make his move.

Jude continued to watch Carina as she moved toward her assigned table. He noticed that a couple already seated were waiting there for her, and he recognized her parents. He waited for a lull in the conversation around him before he casually asked the group, “Who’s the dark-haired woman in the red dress?” He nodded toward Carina.

Clint Jackson, a city councilman, answered. “Her name is Carina Patterson. She’s the only daughter of Christopher Patterson. Chris and his wife, Connie, rarely attend social events. I’m pleased to see them here.”

Jude pretended to think for a moment. “The name means nothing to me. Who is he?”

“Before his stroke a couple of years ago, he was quite active in the community. He imports merchandise from around the world, such as antique furniture, rugs, marble figurines, that sort of thing. Because of his health, he turned the business over to his sons, Alfred and Ben.”

Jude deliberately focused on the three people sitting across the room before he turned to the group and said, “Carina looks like her mother. They have an exotic look about them.”

Clint responded by saying, “Connie Patterson comes from a wealthy family in Mexico City. I understand that Chris took one look at her and fell in love.”

“I can understand why,” Jude responded with a grin. “She looks more like Carina’s sister than her mother. Carina is truly stunning. Do you know if she’s seeing someone?”

“I don’t think so,” Clint said. “Just in case you’re thinking of making a move in that direction, here’s a friendly warning, okay? Al and Ben, who are several years older than Carina, are highly protective of her. They wouldn’t take kindly to someone hurting their sister in any way.”

“You don’t think I meet their standards?” Jude asked with amusement.

“I didn’t say that,” Clint said with a chuckle. “You’re a Crenshaw, after all. However, you do have a reputation around town of playing the field. Let’s face it, Jude, you’re a great catch for any woman and they tend to throw themselves at you.” He grinned. “My wife thinks you’ve got movie-star looks as well as charisma. I have to take her word for it since you’re just not my type.”

Jude laughed. “That’s good to know.”

“The thing is, if Al or Ben thought you were leading Carina on, there’d be hell to pay.”

“Duly noted. Now would you introduce me to them?”

“Sure.” As they walked across the room, Clint added, “I can see that you don’t scare off very easily.”

“I don’t scare off at all.”

Several people stopped them along the way, thanking Jude for his generous contribution to the symphony. He smiled, shook hands with them and thanked them for coming. When they finally reached the Patterson table, Jude saw that Carina’s brothers and their wives had joined the group.

Clint said, “Good evening, Chris,” and offered his hand to the older man. “I’m so pleased to see you here.”

Patterson lifted his left hand and clasped Clint’s hand. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said gruffly.

“I’d like you to meet Jude Crenshaw. I understand he twisted a few arms for donations to the silent auction in order to make certain tonight was a success.” He turned to Jude. “Jude, it gives me great pleasure to introduce Christopher Patterson, his lovely wife, Connie, his daughter, Carina, his son, Alfred, and Al’s wife, Marisa, and his son, Ben, and Ben’s wife, Sara.”

Here was a stroke of luck Jude hadn’t expected. Meeting the entire family was well worth the money and time he’d spent on tonight’s benefit. In addition, his contribution was truly for a good cause.

“I’m pleased to meet each one of you,” he said, shaking hands.

Carina looked up at him. “Thank you for tonight,” she said in a husky voice.

“You’re quite welcome, Ms. Patterson.” Their eyes met and he winked at her. She looked a little startled at first and then grinned at him.

So far, so good.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Al watching them closely. Without appearing to notice, Jude turned away. He and Clint returned to the bar, refreshed their drinks, and went to the head table.

Dinner was first-class and the speeches were mercifully short, for which Jude was thankful.

The orchestra changed from playing quiet dinner music to show tunes to encourage dancing. Jude excused himself from his table and crossed the room to the Pattersons. The only ones there were Mr. and Mrs. Patterson.

“Mr. Patterson, may I have your permission to ask your wife to dance? I promise not to run off with her afterwards, although I’ll admit the idea is tempting.”

Patterson chuckled. “Of course you can. Just remember that I saw her first.”

Jude turned to Connie Patterson and saw that she was blushing. “May I have this dance?”

She nodded, and Jude held out his hand. She took it and gracefully rose from the table. Once on the dance floor she said, “You helped make tonight a success, Mr. Crenshaw. We all are quite grateful.” He heard a slight accent in her voice.

He smiled in acknowledgement and said, “Please, call me Jude.”

“If you’ll call me Connie.”

“Thank you. You’re a very good dancer, by the way.”

Her smile held a hint of sadness. “Chris and I used to dance a great deal before his stroke. I know he misses dancing as much as I do. You were kind to offer.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure.” The orchestra segued into another song with a similar beat. “Will your husband be all right on his own a little longer?”

She glanced toward the table and smiled. “He’s not alone. Carina has returned to the table.”

They finished the dance and walked back to where Carina and her father sat watching them.

Patterson was the first to speak. “You look wonderful out there, dear,” he said to Connie. “Please enjoy this opportunity and don’t worry about me.”

She sank into the chair beside him. “I’m too out of breath to dance any more at the moment.” She smiled at Jude. “Thank you again.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He turned his gaze to Carina. “Ms. Patterson, may I have this dance with you?”

She glanced at her mother’s radiant face and said, “Yes.”

Once she stood he took her hand, led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms. She was smaller than her mother. Her head barely came to his shoulder. She was delicately boned and she reminded him of a Dresden figurine—fragile and exquisite.

“It was kind of you to ask my mother to dance. She doesn’t get out very much.”