“Yes, sir.”

Ethan frowned, playing his role of overprotective boyfriend very well and nodded grudgingly. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

She climbed out of the car and came around to face the guard. Ethan was already standing in front of the driver’s door, his expression brooding as he watched the guard.

The guard did a visual comparison to something on his clipboard and then smiled. “I’ll escort you up to the house, Miss Whitney.”

Ethan put a proprietary arm around her shoulder. “I’d rather drive her up, if it’s all the same to you.” His voice implied it had better be.

The guard’s smile disappeared. “You are not on the appointment list, Mr…”

“Ethan Grange,” Ethan replied, giving an alias that Beth had learned was a well-established identity for him.

Apparently being a writer of rather depressing literary fiction was a good cover in the espionage world. He even had two books published by a small press that had been subsidized by TGP. It was a good cover, one Prescott could investigate if he wanted.

“Mr. Grange, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait out here.”

“No. I’m going in with Beth, or she doesn’t go.”

Beth gasped, but he squeezed her shoulder and she subsided.

The guard looked at her with something that might have been sympathy. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

“Then, we’re leaving.” He started guiding Beth toward the car.

She couldn’t believe he was doing this. “Ethan…”

He ignored her protest and kept walking. “If your boss doesn’t understand my desire to see to your comfort, he wouldn’t be a good employer. You can’t even see the house from here, honey. You aren’t walking all that way on a whim of some rich dude who thinks he can control you and the rest of the world. You know I’d rather you didn’t work at all.”

The guard was talking into his comm unit in low tones.

“But I wanted this job, Ethan. It’s perfect for me and it’s only part-time.” If she sounded more irritated than cajoling, that couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t an actress and she didn’t think the guard would notice the difference.

Ethan walked her around the car and tucked her into her seat before going back to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“Wait. Mr. Grange…I’ve asked my employer to approve your entrance on the estate.”

“I don’t think-”

“Please, Ethan, don’t be so difficult,” Beth pleaded, impressed with Ethan’s acting ability in spite of herself.

He smiled at Beth. “You really want this job, honey?”

“Yes,” she gritted out, deciding right then that he could play the role of overprotective and possessive boyfriend, but she didn’t necessarily have to accept the one of total doormat.

“All right.” He turned to the guard. “Well, what did he say?”

The guard was listening to something in the comm unit. “Do you have proof of your identification?”

“Of course.”

“Can I see it, please?”

Ethan leaned over and grabbed a book off the backseat. “Here’s my picture.”

The book was a hardback with a dustcover and on it Ethan Grange was emblazoned in bold letters under a pretentious title. He flipped the book open and a picture of him in a dark turtleneck and black-rimmed glasses was on the back inside flap of the dustcover. It was a totally supercilious move, and fit the persona of her pretend boyfriend to a T.

“I would prefer to see your driver’s license, sir.”

Beth’s heart stuttered and then started beating again, but too fast. Of course Ethan would have a fake license to go with the identity, but she held her breath until he reached for his back pocket, grumbling the whole time. Adrenaline was surging through Beth in pulsing waves. This undercover stuff was stressful, but…weirdly fun.

The guard waved them through the gate and Beth breathed out a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

“Don’t say anything, Beth.”

At first she thought he was staying true to his part, but then he shook his head imperceptibly.

And she remembered that he and her father had drilled into her that she needed to be circumspect about what she said while on Prescott’s property or anywhere close to it. She hadn’t realized they meant the car, too, but she should have. She knew as well as any agent that there were listening devices that could be targeted at her right now and relaying her conversation with Ethan to Prescott’s security team.

“I wish you would have let me walk to the house with the guard. You almost cost me a chance at this job,” she said, trying to play her role just in case.

It seemed like overkill, but then this man wouldn’t be so hard to get to if he wasn’t the ultracautious sort.

“I wasn’t letting you walk anywhere with that guy. Did you see the way he smiled at you?”

“Oh, please…”

“He’s interested, Beth. Stay away from him.”

“Give it a rest, Ethan.”

He winked at her, his approval of her playacting apparent and despite knowing that they were no better a fit than she and her parents, she felt warmth steal through her.

Another security guard met them at the front door and Ethan was shown to a room to wait while Beth was taken to Prescott for her interview.

According to their intel, Arthur Prescott was fifty-two years old, but with raven black hair, an unlined face, and the body of someone who obviously worked out, he looked much younger. Everywhere but his eyes. They were just flat, gray metal disks for irises, lacking all emotion and yet purveying the impression of a life that had seen things she never wanted to.

He asked the usual questions for a job of the nature he’d advertised and she answered them easily, confident in this aspect of the case. Though she felt like he watched her more closely than any other prospective employer had. There was a quality to his regard that she couldn’t quite define, but she felt almost touched by his gaze.

It was not a nice feeling because despite his professional manner, she did not get the sense he was a nice man. She didn’t think it was knowing he was one of the bad guys that was influencing her either. There was something about Arthur Prescott that gave her the chills.

Then he went silent and looked at her speculatively for several seconds. “I heard you had problems at the front gate.”

“Not with your guard. He was only doing his job.”

“But your boyfriend objected to leaving you.”

“Ethan can be a little overprotective, but he didn’t mean any offense by it.”

Prescott frowned. “As a general rule, my employee’s personal lives do not interest me, but I would have to be sure that your relationship with Ethan Grange would not impinge on your ability to do your job.”

“It won’t, I promise,” she said earnestly.

Prescott smiled, his eyes assessing more than her value as an investment counselor. He was looking at all of her, his gaze lingering a tad too long on her breasts and she had to suppress a shiver. “You’re a lovely woman, Miss Whitney. I understand your boyfriend’s protectiveness, but I need your assurance he will not make trouble should I need you beyond the minimum hours for the job.”

“I thought the job was part-time?”

“I may want to call on your expertise outside your usual hours and there are times I entertain business associates that I might find your presence invaluable.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” But her shock at his request showed.

She didn’t think it would be out of character for her to react this way, so she didn’t berate herself. Besides, he’d said he was looking for the quiet sort. She did shy well, since it was a natural part of her personality.

Prescott smiled, his cold gray eyes going almost friendly. “Good. Do you have a number I can contact you at tonight to let you know my decision?”

She nodded and wrote down the number for the hotel. “We’re checked in under Ethan’s name.”

“Very good. I’ll call you and let you know my decision personally.” He brushed her fingers with his and she had to fight to keep from yanking her hand away.