Her Undercover Panther : A Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance Page 2

  Tara blushed softly.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I know you’ve worked harder than most to prove that you’re worthy of the FBI badge, and hopefully this assignment will put all the naysayers in their place.”

  He pulled a keycard out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  “I’ve arranged for my inside guy to pick you up from this hotel around noon. His name is Luis Vargas.”

  “Is he a shifter?”

  “Yes. He’s a WerePanther.”

  “How do we know that we can trust him?”

  “When I was in the Army Special Forces, I trained Luis. He was a top notch soldier and one of my closest friends, even though he was fresh out of high school and I was almost forty. He saved my life before the shifters were sent home to their families and then segregated from the human population. It happened all over the world pretty much at once, and there was mass hysteria over them. I lost touch with Luis, and it wasn’t until he contacted me months ago that I reconnected with him.”

  “Why did he contact you?”

  “Because he is a trusted companion, and he’s able to leave the island to get supplies and pick up clients. When he noticed that women were coming up missing on a regular basis and dug deeper, he realized that the issue with GRE was bigger than anything that the shifters can handle on their own.”

  “So I can trust him?”

  “With your life.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tara woke up bright and early the next morning, much too excited to sleep in. She checked the time, rolled out of the comfortable bed, and put her feet on the plush, carpeted floor. This hotel was heads and tails better than the one that she’d met Andrew in the night before, but she knew that his hotel choice had more to do with anonymity than budget. Andrew was deep undercover in Lima, and even a several hours’ flight away from Ian Cross was too close to risk blowing his cover. The man believed that Andrew was a scientist, fired from one of GRE’s top overseas competitors and here to reveal research secrets to GRE to help them corner the international market on shifter-human eugenics research, granting him unrestricted access to every corner of both islands. It was more than most undercovers could hope for, and Andrew wouldn’t put that in jeopardy for any reason.

  Andrew had rented this hotel room online using Tara’s new identity. She went over the conversation in her head as she headed into the bathroom for a quick shower before breakfast.

  “You have the room for a month,” he had said, handing her all the paperwork she’d needed for the rental.

  “A month?”

  “Yes. Hide your personal IDs and anything else that might give away who you are in the closet. There’s a fireproof safe hidden in there. Try not to drop it; it’s rigged with an incendiary device.”

  “Will it explode?” she’d asked, a little concerned.

  “No. But I have it on a remote to burn in case something happens.”

  “And what if something happens to you first?”

  “The remote is downloaded to your laptop; you can burn it yourself if you think that you’ve been compromised.”

  “And the room won’t catch on fire?”

  “No. The device only has enough juice to incinerate your documents, and the fireproof safe will keep the fire contained until the lack of oxygen snuffs it out. It’s one of the newer toys the Bureau has available.”

  “Exciting,” she’d said, and she’d meant it. That had been a huge weight off her shoulders; if she couldn’t get back to the hotel to gather her things, she knew that she wouldn’t be exposing her real identity. “What if someone opens it and my cover hasn’t been blown?”

  “If anyone tries to open it without the key, it automatically incinerates the contents. This key has a chip imbedded in it, so even if someone has a universal key, that key won’t open it without first tripping the incendiary device and catching everything in the safe on fire before the key is even turned.”

  “I feel like I need one of these in my life,” she’d joked.

  “Don’t we all?” he’d laughed, then quickly sent her on her way and into the night.

  Tara finished showering and focused on her plans for the day while drying her long, blonde hair and fastening it into a loose braid when she was through. She dressed and took stock of what she had brought with her. She traveled light out of habit, but she didn’t think that her bag was going to be a good fit for traipsing through a jungle.

  She grabbed her keycard and her wallet and left the room after securing her personal documents in the safe. Making her way to the elevator, she stepped inside and pushed the button for the lobby.

  She was the only one on the elevator car, which didn’t surprise her at this time of the morning. Most people on vacation didn’t have an internal clock that forced them up before six, but Tara did. It came from years of practice, and even going to sleep after midnight hadn’t affected her wake up time. She was tired and would normally be dragging, but her excitement overruled her body.

  The elevator door opened, and Tara saw exactly what she needed right in front of her. Catering to the American tourists that flocked to Peru, there was a store that looked to have everything she needed, including a heavy duty, water resistant backpack, complete with a place to store her laptop.

  Tara grabbed one of the backpacks in a neutral taupe color that would be hard to spot in the jungle and perused the clothing selection for shorts and tank tops, meal replacement bars, and a water pouch that purified any running water to make it safe to drink in a matter of minutes.

  She brought her purchases to the counter, and the older woman at the checkout smiled at her.

  “Are you going into the jungle?” the woman asked in perfect English.

  “I am.”

  The woman pulled a box out from under the counter and handed her a few packets.

  “What is this?”

  “Bug repellant in a dissolving wipe. The package is made of cornstarch so that it melts when it comes in contact with water. No waste, and it doesn’t harm any animals if you accidentally drop it.”

  “Excellent,” Tara said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. You can have those on the house. They come from my brother’s company, and he’s trying to get the word out about them. I hear you’re a reporter in Los Angeles?”

  “I am,” she said, feeling a little guilty. This poor woman thought she was giving the product to someone who could help her brother’s company take off when that wasn’t the reality.

  Tara finished up her transaction and headed back to her room to pack. She ordered room service, a luxury she rarely allowed herself but something that Tara Storm, Los Angeles reporter, would most definitely do in her place. The food was delicious, the fruit fresh and vibrantly colored.

  She fit everything she owned in the backpack with room to spare, and she stuck her carry-on bag in the closet. She didn’t want the empty bag to alert any of the housekeeping staff about anything out of the ordinary. Thinking of that and wondering if they would get suspicious if she hung the do not disturb sign up and left it there, she decided to let the front desk know that she would be leaving for a few days to explore some of the jungles with a guide. She didn’t mention the islands, and she told them that she wasn’t sure when she would be back.

  The man at the front desk didn’t seem too concerned that she would be absent, and Tara had to wonder about people who kept a hotel in one place while they traveled the country for weeks at a time. Why didn’t they take everything with them? She had to laugh, but she was also a little envious of people with so much disposable income that they didn’t mind renting more than one hotel room at a time.

  There was a knock at the door and she stood, moving out of the line of sight of the peephole so that her shadow wouldn’t be visible as she made her way to the door. Room service had already come and gone, and she wasn’t expecting anyone yet.

  She was at the door when she heard a man’s voice come through.

  “It is Luis. I
’m sorry that I’m early.”

  Tara looked through the peephole, comparing what she saw to her mental memory of the picture that Andrew had shown her a few short hours ago. It was definitely Luis, but the picture was old and didn’t do justice to the man’s size.

  “Who are you here for?” she asked, not opening the door—waiting for a reply before she would, even with the chain engaged.

  “Tara Storm, the journalist,” he said.

  She unlocked the door but left the chain engaged. He smiled at her, his hazel eyes bright and cheerful.

  “You are very paranoid, Ms. Storm. I’m here to be your guide.”

  “How do I know it’s you?” she asked, but she was only testing him. She knew it was him, and she felt a little foolish being so paranoid. But GRE was into something bad, and she didn’t want to risk getting caught unaware.

  “I don’t know how you would like me to prove it,” he said, clearly confused. “If you let me in, I can talk to you more about our mutual friend.”

  There it is, she thought. Proof that Luis was who he claimed to be.

  She closed the door and took the chain off, opening it again and letting him in. She checked the hallway, but there was no one there. Tara locked the door behind him and took a seat on one of the sofas in the sitting room of the luxury suite.

  “This is nice,” he said, looking around appreciatively.

  “It’s just a room,” she said. “I’m ready to leave now if you are, but I wasn’t expecting you yet.”

  “You look ready,” he said, taking in her khaki shorts, tan tank top, and long hair that was already neatly braided. “I’m a little surprised that Andrew, I mean Arnold, sent a woman to me to help me take down GRE.”

  “Why?” she asked, immediately rankled by his comment.

  “Nothing personal,” he said quickly. “It’s just that women struggle to fight their lust for shifters, and we’re going to be very close for a few days, if not weeks. I just don’t want you to get your heart broken when you fall in love with me.”

  He smiled almost apologetically, and Tara realized that he wasn’t being intentionally offensive. He really believed that women were incapable of keeping their hands off of him and that having him be her personal companion for her entire stay might test her resolve.

  Still, she laughed.

  “You obviously don’t know me, but I’ll let that ridiculous comment go. I can work alongside you without being overwhelmed with sexual need. When I have sex with a man, it’s because I want to, not because I can’t control my hormones. I’m twenty-seven, not seventeen.”

  He took a step back, his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

  “Whoa, sorry to offend. I just worry that you’ll be affected by my pheromones. Shifters are known to be irresistible to humans. I thought you should know what you were getting into before it was too late.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she snapped, pulling her backpack on and giving the room a final, cursory glance before moving to the door.

  “I can carry the rest of your things,” he offered by way of apology for his faux pas.

  “I don’t have anything else to carry. This is it.”

  “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a woman travel so light.”

  Tara rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t speak,” she said. “I don’t think you realize how offensive you are.”

  “I don’t,” he said, and she laughed. He followed her out the door and let it close behind him. “Why are you laughing? I’m not trying to be offensive. What did I say?”

  “What didn’t you say? Really, just keep your thoughts to yourself. I’m not going to trip over my own feet to get you into bed, and I can live out of a backpack without suffering. Let’s go. I’m afraid you’ll say something else and I’ll have to teach you a lesson like I did that guy in the alley.”

  Luis stopped and looked at her, astonished.

  “I heard it on the news when I was driving here. Was that you?”

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t hit the news.”

  Luis pointed her to a luxury sedan sitting at the curb. Tara’s jaw dropped when she realized that it was a Bentley Mulsanne.

  She ran her hands over the buttery leather seats, buckling herself up as Luis got in the car and put it in gear. Once they were on the road, he continued the conversation where they’d left off.

  “It’s only on the news because of who the man is. He has a reputation, so people are naturally intrigued when he wakes up in the hospital screaming about a woman trying to kill him with her bare hands.”

  “He must have hit his head especially hard,” she said quietly. “I didn’t try to kill him; I was just trying to keep him from stabbing me.”

  “Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

  “I don’t have my gun.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m a reporter. That’s how this works. I don’t pretend to be someone else, I am someone else.”

  “Would a reporter be able to do what you did to that man?”

  “From Los Angeles? Probably. It’s a rough town.”

  Luis laughed. “You’re funny.” He was watching her in the mirror as he drove. “I think my first impression of you was wrong.”

  “And what was that?”

  “You’re beautiful and you’re curvy but still short and delicate looking. I wouldn’t think that you would be able to disarm a man carrying a knife who is known to enjoy torturing his victims. I think that you’re tougher than you look, and I was wrong to underestimate you because of your looks. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and she meant it. She was tired of the way the world perceived her, and she was glad Luis saw something in her beyond her pretty face and curvy body. He was already better than most men she encountered.

  “Forgive me for my earlier words? I didn’t think before I spoke, and I didn’t mean to say it the way it came out. It’s been a long while since I’ve spoken to a woman I wasn’t supposed to be seducing. It’s hard to remember the difference when you’re used to a certain way for ten years.”

  “Fine,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could completely forget what he had said, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that what he said was true and he wasn’t intentionally misogynistic.

  “Fine? That didn’t sound very sincere,” he said, eyeing her in the rearview mirror again, his warm hazel eyes sparkling.

  “I’ll give you another shot at proving that you’re not a sexist pig. Is that better?”

  Luis laughed. “It’s good enough. It’s probably the best that I’ll get out of you.”

  “Exactly. I usually don’t give second chances, but I’m feeling especially generous today.”

  “Then I guess today is my lucky day. Here we are. I hope you like boats.”

  He parked the car under a carport and killed the engine.

  “I don’t really care for boats, but I’ll survive.”

  “That’s good. It’s a long ride already; it will be awful if you hate being on the water.”

  Tara got out of the car, waving away his offer to take her bag and slipping her arms through the straps. The boat was a pretty good size, the type that usually had a living area below deck and plenty of places to get out of the wind and the spray from the ocean. Tara nodded, thinking to herself that she could definitely manage a few hours on this boat, especially below deck where she could forget that she was on a boat.

  Luis led the way, walking down a narrow path and onto the dock. He walked up to the luxury Sundance, waving at a man servicing the boat and laughing at something the man said. Tara expected him to get onto the boat, but Luis kept walking.

  Tara’s heart sank when she walked past the large, luxury speed boat that she’d seen when they had first pulled up. There, at the end of the dock, and the only other boat, was a small, two-seater speed boat that couldn’t have been more than thirteen feet long.

  Lui
s threw his stuff into the driver’s seat and went to work unhitching the boat from the dock.

  Tara stood on the dock, staring at the boat and trying not to panic. It had to be a joke.

  “You can get on,” he said. “I already gassed it up, and there’s lunch in the cooler if you get hungry.”

  Food? In the cooler? Did he really expect her to eat?

  “This isn’t a boat,” she said. “This is a dingy. I can’t ride to an island in this. What’s wrong with that boat?”

  She pointed to the boat at the front of the dock.

  “That boat is already lined up for a client going to the resort. This is the boat that we’re taking. And it’s not a dingy; it’s a speed boat.”

  “How is that any better?”

  “Do you want to wear a life vest?”

  “Yes, but I’m still not getting on this boat.”

  “Suit yourself. I guess you’ll have to tell your boss that you failed because you’re too chicken to get onto a boat.”

  “No sane person would ride this thing out on the open ocean. We’d be shark bait.”

  “We’ll be moving faster than sharks. Just get in. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

  She stood there for a moment, losing an internal battle with herself. She had to get on the boat. She really didn’t have any choice. And if she waited much longer, Luis was bound to tell Andrew that she had balked. That wouldn’t be good either.

  Taking a deep breath and pushing away her fear, she swallowed the big lump in her throat and stepped onto the boat. It shifted and wobbled beneath her, and she thought for a moment that she might capsize the boat just by trying to walk to her chair.

  “The life vest is under the seat,” he said, stepping into the boat and shoving it away from the dock with his foot. “If you want something to drink, I have a few wine coolers in the cooler. I didn’t know what you liked, so I brought a bit of everything that would fit in the cooler.”