скачать книгу бесплатно
“That came off me?” How had it gotten here? Her mind whirled. She was blathering, something she did when she was truly stressed. She was making an utter fool of herself in front of her boss and Matt. Jenny wanted to disappear into thin air.
It didn’t happened.
“I admit you’re a beautiful birthday girl, but I don’t think you need this frosting.” Matt gave her a slight, one-cornered smile because he could see how mortified Jenny had become. She was as red as the worst sunburn he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes, luminous and huge, reflected fear, humiliation and embarrassment at his gesture. And where had his words come from? He wasn’t given to making compliments toward women. The sky blue of her eyes seemed to become dappled with gold flecks as his words registered with her. For the first time, Matt saw a tinge of hope mingle with the terror and humiliation in her eyes. It was just a simple compliment, no big deal. But he could see it affected her profoundly.
Licking his thumb, he tasted the sweet frosting. Then he grinned a little to try and relieve her of her embarrassment. “See? All gone. Not bad tasting, either.” Getting to his feet, he held his hand down toward her. Jenny looked at it woodenly. She appeared frozen by his gallant gesture. When she lifted her chin and gazed up at him, he was once again struck by the childlike trust that emanated from her. Yet she was a twenty-five-year-old woman. And she’d always conducted herself with prim efficiency as Morgan’s assistant. Today he was seeing a completely new side to her.
“I don’t bite.”
Jenny grimaced. Her hand shot out and she gripped his callused fingers. With ease, he brought her to her feet. Instantly, she pulled her hand from his, as if burned. Gripping the wet, sticky paper towels, she whispered unsteadily to all of them, “Excuse me. Let me go get rid of these. I’ve got to wash my hands…. I’ll be right back.”
Matt raised his thick eyebrows as the door shut. He cast a questioning look at Morgan. “Are you sure you want her heading up this mission?”
“I’m positive, Matt. Sit down and have some cake. Jenny’s just rattled, is all. She’ll settle down if you give her some space.”
Laura cleared her throat and got Matt’s attention. “Be kind to her, Matt. Jenny is a wonderful, open and helpful person. I feel if you can gently guide her, she’ll do just fine on this interview mission.”
Reaching for the slice of cake on the plate, he picked up a fork and said, “This is like baby-sitting my kid sister—not that I ever had one. Jenny’s clumsy. And she gets rattled too easily.”
Frowning, Laura said, “I know this isn’t the kind of mission you wanted, Matt, but you were the only merc available. Jenny is an open book. She gets her feelings hurt very easily, and she’s supersensitive. She reads body language like a pro.”
“Great,” he muttered, eating the cake. Not only would he have to watch what he said to her, he’d have to carefully mask his reactions as well.
“There’s no danger to this mission,” Morgan noted. “You can sort of consider it a minivacation to Peru. Enjoy the country and its people. Just be there for Jenny, support her and let her know she can handle it.”
“Well,” Matt drawled as he took another forkful of cake, “at least she’s nothing like my shark of an ex-wife.” His mouth twisted downward. “At least I’m saved from that on this mission.”
Chapter Three
Matt tried to ignore Jenny, who wriggled like a happy puppy next to him in the first-class section of the Condor Airlines flight they were on. They’d taken a local hop from Montana over to Seattle, Washington, and gotten the international flight down to Lima from there. Jenny reminded him of the frothy, bubbly champagne. And as if sensing he didn’t want to talk, she tried her best not to engage him too often in conversation. Instead she focused her attention on her laptop computer, creating questions for her interviews.
Feigning sleep, he had his eyes closed, wrapped his massive arms across his chest and spread out his long legs. Even though there was a wide arm between the tobacco-colored leather seats, he could feel her restlessness. Oh, maybe he was being too harsh toward her. Jenny was in constant movement. Maybe like a butterfly instead of a wriggly puppy. Yes, she was definitely butterfly material. Laughing to himself, Matt derided his protective instincts, which made him want to reach out and soothe Jenny’s fractious, ongoing state. She was almost manic. In the airport she had clutched her large, black leather briefcase as if someone was going to steal it from her. Matt had tried to reassure her that this was a level one mission, and no bad guy was going to come out of nowhere to swipe it from her. She’d given him a dirty look that said she didn’t believe him.
The corners of his mouth lifted. Jenny was on high alert as they passed through each airport facility, always looking about and studying people around her as if one of them might be “the enemy.” Matt didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t the way spies worked. This was her fantasy—being on a dangerous, undercover mission. Let her have it. Still, he couldn’t remove that warmth that was lingering stubbornly around his heart every time he thought of her and her clumsiness or her breathy laughter. Her delft-blue eyes shone with such life. He wondered obliquely how someone like her, at age twenty-five, had escaped all of life’s hard knocks.
She behaved as if the world were a wonderful place to be and live in. It wasn’t, of course. Never had been. Never would be.
“Mr. Davis? Are you asleep?”
He stifled a chuckle as he felt Jenny’s tentative tap on his upper arm. Prying one eye open, he looked at her.
“I’m not now,” he rumbled.
“I, uh…well, I thought I’d like to discuss the upcoming interviews with the Apache helicopter pilots.” He was looking at her as if she was a bug to be flicked off because he was bothering her. Gulping, Jenny mustered her courage and swept her hand toward the tray in front of her that held her computer. “I’m not in the military,” she said, keeping her voice very low so they couldn’t be overheard. No telling who might be sitting in front, beside or behind them. Glancing around and giving everyone a suspicious look, she leaned toward Matt as he opened both his eyes and uncrossed his arms.
“I just feel…well, really awkward about heading up this mission, Mr. Davis. I know I’m not military, and yet, Morgan wants me to interview the military pilots down there.” She gave him a frown. “Over the past two hours I’ve been putting together some questions we might ask them. I really need your input. I’m nervous about this and don’t want to mess it up.” Jenny gave a short, insecure laugh. “And believe me, I can screw things up royally. If you could just take a peek at my questions?”
She picked up one page of handwritten questions and waved it in his direction. She saw his brows dip. He sat up and rubbed his face savagely. Jenny cowered inwardly, knowing he was tired. But in five hours they’d be landing in Lima, and she didn’t want to try and formulate her interview questions then. She’d be tired by that time!
Matt looked at the tray in front of her. It was filled with neat piles of handwritten notes beside her laptop. Looking down, he saw at least fifteen wadded-up pieces of paper, like popcorn balls, littering the area around her small, dainty feet. Trying not to smile, he saw that she’d pushed off her practical dark brown shoes. For the flight she had dressed in a dark purple silk suit that brought out the color of her eyes and her burnished gold hair. Now he saw she had a pair of dark purple cotton socks on her feet. He’d meant to tell her how pretty she looked, especially with the dainty gold-and-amethyst earrings and matching choker, which held a teardrop-shaped amethyst pendant around her slender throat. With little effort, she looked both professional and feminine at the same time.
“Let’s see what you’ve come up with,” he muttered.
The male flight attendant came by and asked if they’d like anything to drink. Both said no.
Jenny sat there chewing on her lower lip, her eyes flicking from Matt’s hard, unreadable face to his compressed mouth. He had a beautifully shaped mouth. She sighed inwardly and tried to contain the excitement and trepidation she felt as he went over her questions. Moving restlessly in the seat, she could barely contain herself.
“Well?” she ventured, concealed fear in her tone. “I know they’re probably pretty awful, being that I’ve never been in the military….”
Glancing at her, Matt saw the worry and anxiety written all over her oval face. Such angst in someone her age…what had set her up to respond like this? Had she been overly criticized in her family? Had her parents been perfectionists when she was a child? Even the way Jenny held herself, so erect and stiff, as if expecting a physical blow, made him scowl.
“No…these questions are good. They’re insightful.” He tapped the paper with his index finger. “I like the fact that you’re asking questions on a human level, rather than a military one.”
Gawking at him, her mouth fell open. “You do? You mean you like them? They aren’t awful?”
Setting the paper down in his lap, he focused his full attention on her. “Jenny…may I call you that? Or do you prefer Ms. Wright?”
“Er…no, call me Jenny, please. I hate standing on formality, if the truth be known….”
Nodding, he forced a sliver of a smile for her benefit. He was finding out Laura had been right about Jenny’s ability to read body language big time. “Fine. Call me Matt, okay?”
She nodded hesitantly. Old habits died hard. At the office, he was always Mr. Davis. Jenny never called any of the mercenaries by their first names. When she saw his mouth curve faintly, relief shot through her. Even his gray eyes warmed a bit as he looked at her. It was much easier to deal with than his focused inspection.
“Good,” he murmured. “I need to know a little about you. About your background. That will help me to help you in formulating your base questions.”
The sincerity in his voice shook her, and the earnestness in his slate-colored eyes warmed her to her quaking, cowardly soul. Jenny had never expected that her questions would be worthy of the interview, much less meet with Matt Davis’s approval.
Choking, she looked at him in disbelief. “You…want to know about me?”
With a nonchalant shrug he said, “Why not? You’re my partner on this mission.”
“I see….”
“You know, for all your friendliness and helpfulness, you’re a closed book.”
Wincing, Jenny looked down at the handful of papers in her hand. “I’m afraid I haven’t led a very exciting life…Matt, and I really don’t want to bore you with my life story.”
Such a cream puff. And a delicious one. Matt stopped himself from reaching out to stroke her hair, which looked deliciously mussed. Jenny wore no makeup and the way her blond hair fell soft and straight around her face made her look like a pixie. She looked so young. Yet he saw pain in her eyes and he wondered why. “Want to play twenty questions, then?”
She managed a weak smile. “No, you don’t have to dig. I’ll tell you. But I warn you, you’ll probably be snoring like you were five minutes before I woke you up.”
His brows raised. “I was snoring?”
Chuckling shyly, Jenny said, “It wasn’t loud or anything. Your head was tipped back, was all. A person’s tongue relaxes when they sleep, and I’m sure yours was up against your windpipe, which was why you were snoring.”
Giving her a look of respect, he said, “You’re just a font of information, aren’t you?”
Touching her cheeks, which were heating up beneath his dark, unrelenting inspection, Jenny felt her heart beating erratically. Did the man know he could charm even the meanest snake with those eyes of his? She wanted desperately to drown in his warm gaze. Just the hint of one corner of his mouth lifting upward sent her heart soaring with unaccountable joy. When he smiled, that hard mask fell away and she got a look at the real Matt Davis. She blossomed beneath his attention, especially when he gave her that crooked smile.
“One of my foster mothers always said I was a jack-of-all-trades and master of none,” she began ruefully in answer to his question. “I know just enough about a lot of things to be dangerous, I guess.” Waving her hands nervously, she added, “I have such a problem sticking with one thing and finishing it. I’m a Pisces, you see. My moon’s in Gemini and I have Libra rising. I’m full of air and water, and the two don’t mix very well, so I’m always at odds with myself. At least, that’s what she said.”
Foster mother? Matt scowled at how nervous Jenny was now. He saw the worry in her eyes, and the way the corners of her soft, delicious mouth pulled in. “I don’t know much about astrology,” he admitted.
“You’re a Scorpio!” She blurted the words before she could stop herself. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she gazed at him wide-eyed as he tilted his head and regarded her in the silence.
“You got my birthdate from my personnel record?”
She nodded, her stomach sinking.
“I see.”
Allowing her hand to drop from her lips, she said in a breathless tone, “Don’t worry. The information won’t go anywhere. I know Scorpio people want their privacy. And they don’t like people who talk about them to other people, either. They’re very, very intense. Very focused. That’s why you’re so good at being a merc. You’re a natural warrior. You know how to gauge people. Your perceptions are rarely wrong, either.”
“I’m impressed. You almost make me sound like a good guy.” He saw her frown and then shift restlessly in the leather seat. “So what about yourself? How about your growing-up years? Where were you born?”
Jenny’s mouth quirked. Her stomach tightened. She knew Matt had come from a very prestigious and rich family. He’d been at the Naval Academy and finished in the top five percent of his class. He’d earned medals as a SEAL during the Gulf War. He’d been the head of his team until he’d quit to come and work for Perseus. She also knew, from the personal history in his file, that his parents had been married for over thirty years: the Davises were a happy family, no doubt. Matt had an older sister, a medical doctor who had graduated from Princeton University with honors. Jenny’s hands hands fluttered helplessly as she answered his question. “I was born in Medford, Oregon.”
“Oregon’s a nice place. I’ve often fished for trout up in the Cascade Mountains above that little town.” Somehow, Matt found himself wanting to alleviate the tension around her lovely mouth and erase the fear from her eyes. “Did you ever go fishing in Klamath Lake, which is near there? Or fish for steelhead trout on the Rogue River?”
She shook her head and looked out the plane window. The sky was a bright blue, with high, filmy cirrus clouds. “Uh, no…”
“Not a fisherperson?” he teased. She refused to look at him. Now her hands were clenched, white-knuckled, in the lap of her dark purple skirt.
Softly, she answered, “No…I don’t like hurting anything. It pains me to even think of putting a sharp hook into a poor, defenseless little worm. It has no way of protecting itself from us…what we might do to it. Humans are a lot stronger, and sometimes brutal….”
Matt scowled. He heard a lot of pain in Jenny’s voice. In fact, he could barely hear her, her voice had gone so soft. Her face had drained of color and she was pale. Very pale. And now she was sitting very, very still. His gut crawled with trepidation. Realizing he was stepping into very raw territory regarding her personal life, he said in a rasping tone, “Don’t mind me. Sometimes I’m like a damn bull in a china shop. I don’t know when to stop asking questions. My ex-wife will confirm my dazzling skills in that regard.”
Turning her head, she met and held his stormy eyes. Once again, Jenny was seeing him without that armorlike mask in place. Now he was searching and unsure of himself. She’d never have thought anything could rattle the heroic Matt Davis, decorated navy hero. Especially something she said. Her. A mouse. A ordinary person who had never accomplished anything of note in life. Except to be a great assistant to Morgan Trayhern. And she had also gotten a degree in psychology. She was proud of that accomplishment, too. But it wasn’t the same as saving lives, like Matt did.
“My life,” Jenny began quietly, “isn’t anything to write home about.” Shrugging, she opened her hands and said, “I was taken from my mother, who was a crack addict, when I was born. She died when I was a year old. I don’t really remember anything about her…. I was turned over to the state, and over the next eighteen years, I went through five foster homes.” She saw his brows gather grimly. And she saw sympathy reflected in his eyes. Heartened that he wasn’t going to make fun of her, or tell her that she was less worthy in his view, she added, “I guess maybe that’s why I went into psychology—to try and understand myself. I was hyperactive in kindergarten. I couldn’t sit still. I disrupted the class. They said it was because my mother was a drug addict. But I never touched drugs—never wanted to. After I left my last foster home, I went to Bryn Mawr and worked to get a degree. I had to do something to prove to myself I wasn’t totally a worthless human being.”
She tapped her head. “I still have ADD—attention deficit disorder. When I was a kid they tried to drug me up to my eyeballs, in an attempt to calm me down. I just have a different way of working and thinking than most people. I thought becoming a psychologist would help me…to try and figure out who I am…or what I could be…. Oh, I know I’m a scaredy-cat. I screech if I see a spider…or a snake.” Jenny shivered, placed her arms around herself and made a face. “I really do leap up on a chair if I see a mouse. I’m such a coward. After all, I’m much bigger than any tiny little mouse or teeny spider or other creepy-crawly.” She sighed sadly. “I’m such a mess.”
“There’re plenty of people who’ve come from broken homes,” Matt said. “And they go on to make something of themselves in life. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jenny. You weren’t the drug addict, your mother was. You were the innocent in all this.” Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently stroked her small, slumped shoulders.
Matt’s touch was magical. As his strong fingers moved across her tightly knotted shoulders, she closed her eyes. His touch was healing. She felt the warmth of his hand, the strength, but also the tenderness of his touch. Amazed that such a large man could be so gentle, she released a long, pent-up sigh. Opening her eyes as his hand lifted away, she managed a sliver of a smile.
“You’re being very kind. Thank you. I know you don’t have to be. You’re a hero ten times over. You don’t have to put up with little people, like myself.” Her mouth quirked and she avoided his gaze. “I’m sure you didn’t want this mission with me. Oh, not that anyone’s said anything….” Jenny lifted her hands. “You’re probably doing this because Morgan asked you to. I know how he sometimes puts pressure on a merc, to get them to team with someone they’ve never worked with before.”
Just the flittery look in Jenny’s narrowed blue eyes made Matt’s heart wrench. “Whoa!” he murmured. “Slow down, will you?”
“I know…I talk a mile a minute. It’s that Gemini moon of mine. We Geminis blather all the time. People like me don’t know when to shut up.”
“I’m interested in what you’re saying, but you’re running along at Mach 3 with your hair on fire, and I can’t get a question in edgewise.”
Laughing, Jenny nodded. “Fair enough. Okay, I’ll shut up and you ask what you want.” She couldn’t believe that he didn’t think less of her because of her background.
As Matt sat up, the look in his eyes set her heart palpitating for no reason. Maybe it was his unexpected touch. She would never forget that wonderful feeling of his hand sliding across her shoulders. Even now her flesh tingled.
Looking down and studying her questions more thoroughly, he murmured, “For someone who has ADD, you’ve done a very nice, disciplined and thoughtful job creating these questions. Looking at your work, I wouldn’t ever think you had attention problems.”
Making a frustrated noise, Jenny wrinkled her nose. “I was so afraid that Morgan wouldn’t hire me when I told him I had ADD. People like me often make a thorough mess of everything, Matt.” She gestured nervously toward the notes he held. “My mind works differently. I see things—letters and words—differently from the normal population. I’ve had to retrain and reteach myself how to think and do things your way, not mine.” She managed a small smile of triumph. “It was hard, but I really wanted to do it, to fit in, you know?”
“Growing up, did you stand out at school?” Matt saw the instant anguish in her eyes. Jenny avoided his incisive gaze and clenched her hands in her lap again. He was discovering that when he hit a painful nerve in Jenny, she would naturally assume that cowering position.
“It was awful,,” she admitted softly, her voice wobbly with tears. “I was put back into a remedial class. A lot of kids made fun of me. They called me stupid. A geek. And it got so bad I just hid. I ran from them in the halls when I saw the cliques coming toward me to tease me.” She nervously touched her hair. “I wasn’t pretty. I was such a stick compared to the other girls…and no boy would ever look at me. They called me Fraidy Cat. That was my name in school. The boys would put plastic spiders and bugs in my chair, or they’d throw them in my hair, or the girls would drop one on my tray in the cafeteria….” Sighing, Jenny forced herself to look up at Matt. His face was thundercloud dark with anger. At first she thought he was angry at her. But when he unexpectedly reached out and gripped her hand, and she felt his gentle strength around her clammy fingers, Jenny knew different.
“Kids can be brutal,” he growled. “No wonder you’re so jumpy as an adult.”
Matt didn’t want to let go of her hand. He saw Jenny’s eyes grow tender as he held and gently squeezed her damp, cool fingers. Every protective instinct he owned rose to the surface. With the pieces of information she was divulging to him, he could understand why she was excruciatingly nervous and flighty. Her ADD made her restless, so that she could never sit still for long periods of time. And he’d mistaken that for manic activity. It had never crossed his mind that Jenny might have ADD. Giving her fingers another squeeze, he forced himself to let go of them.
“Listen to me, Jenny. Will you?”
“Sure.” She sat quietly, her fingers tingling in her lap. Oh, how she enjoyed his touches! Never in a million years would Jenny have thought Matt Davis, military hero, would have such a tender side to him. She felt like a wilted flower thriving beneath the sunlight of his care and concern. Her heart flooded with such joy that it took her breath away. Trying to sit passive beneath his scrutiny, she waited for him to speak.
“You know what? I like you just the way you are. It makes me respect you a lot more knowing what you’ve gone through.” He tapped the papers in his hand. “These questions are excellent. They cut to the heart of the matter, reach the core of the interviewee. You couldn’t create insightful questions like this if you didn’t have intelligence and a very good grasp of the human condition. As a merc, I strive to maintain similar qualities because it keeps us alive out in the field. You’ve got the right stuff, Jenny. It shows here.” He tapped the papers again. “You’re very good at what you do. Even if you have to hang off chandeliers and do it upside down, what does that matter? What counts is the product. And it doesn’t bother me that you’re restless or that you talk fast. I like to hear your thoughts, what’s in that big heart of yours, and how you see the world.”
Matt saw her eyes widening at every statement he made about her. Then her face went rose-red as she blushed to the roots of her blond hair. “And as for being a ’fraidy cat, well, let me share this with you. I’m afraid all the time. The only thing that might be different between us is that I don’t overreact in the moment. I try to handle my fear and keep thinking clearly through it.” He managed a slight smile. “Where we’re going, there’s going to be a lot of bugs and spiders because it’s jungle. But my bet is that you can use this situation to work through your fear and try to keep thinking, despite how you feel. I have faith in you, Jenny. And you know what else? I think Morgan picked the perfect person to head up this mission. I wouldn’t have been able to create the questions you have. I don’t have the training. I’m not a psychologist. You obviously know people, know how to touch them on a very deep, core level.”
Choking back a lump that was forming quickly in her throat, Jenny stared at him. She was in shock. Finally, she whispered, “I—I’ve never had anyone give me so many compliments all at once. Are you sure you mean them? You aren’t just saying that because you feel sorry for me?”
To hell with it. Matt reached out and grazed her flaming red cheek with his thumb. Again her eyes went a soft, velvet blue, and he knew his touch had a positive and magical affect on her. It was impossible not to touch Jenny. And it had been a helluva long time since he’d wanted to touch a woman like he was touching her. Maybe it was her vulnerability that brought out his own vulnerable side, which he’d carefully hidden from the world.
“As you get to know me better, Jenny, you’ll know I’m not the most diplomatic person around. I am honest, though. To a fault. And sometimes—” Matt grimaced “—sometimes my shoot-from-the-hip honesty hurts the other person unintentionally.”
“Honesty is good. Truth never goes out of style.” She nodded and looked away. “You really think I’m cut out for this mission? I’ve had such angst about it. I worry you won’t think I can carry my end of things. I worry that you’ll think I’m nothing. Worthless. And I worry that you think you have to baby-sit me because Morgan twisted your arm.”
Breaking out into quiet laughter, Matt raised his eyes upward. “You are a worrywart, Jenny. No doubt about it.” When he saw her wince, he added gently, “I can handle your worry. What you have to do is put to rest all those other items. None of them are true. I’m glad I’m on this mission. And yes, Morgan did twist my arm—a little. And no, I didn’t think you had what it took until I saw your questions and got more info on you as a person. Adding it all up now, I’m very confident about the mission, and you. Morgan was right—you need to be in charge. I’ll be here to support you when you ask for my help. Frankly speaking, I think you’re going to do a helluva good job. I think you’ll be able to pick the right three volunteers for those missions.”
Jenny sat there, astonishment flowing through her. The sincerity in Matt’s voice and that incredible warmth in his slate-colored eyes filled her with a happiness she’d never, ever experienced before. He believed in her. And in her heart she knew he wasn’t lying. Her self-esteem got a big boost. Because of his belief in her, she felt the first trickle of actual confidence in herself and the mission.
Impulsively, she reached out and slid her hand against his sandpapery cheek. Though he’d shaved early this morning, that five o’clock shadow was there, making him look even more dangerously handsome. She saw his eyes narrow instantly as she briefly caressed him. Her heart pounded when she recognized the look in his eyes: the look of a hunter stalking his prey—her. Jenny didn’t know what to think or say. She’d never seen a man look at her like Matt Davis was right now—with desire. Blatant, raw desire.
A warmth stirred deep within her, and that took her off guard, as well. Now her whole body was responding to his smoldering, dark look. Egads, what was going on? She felt unsure of herself in so many ways.
Jerking her hand away from his cheek, she quickly tucked it back in her lap and looked away.” “I never expected this…. You’re so kind and caring….”
It took everything Matt had not to sweep Jenny into his arms and hold her. Simply hold her. That’s what she needed. She needed someone to praise her. To tell her that she was a good person, capable of intelligent work. Stiffening his arms at his sides to make sure he didn’t do anything he might regret, he rumbled, “You bring all this out in me. It’s you.”
Chapter Four
Jenny tried to swallow her surprise as they stood in the office of Gringo Bill’s Hostel with the owner, Margerite Kaiser.
“You’re in room 35, Senor Williams. You and your wife will be on the top floor, with a complete view of the plaza, not to mention beautiful Machu Picchu.”
A short woman with a cloud of curly black hair, Margerite smiled as she lifted a key from the box on the wall, her brown eyes sparkling.
Jenny gulped. Wife? Was that what the woman had called her? Frantically, she searched her sleep-deprived brain for this detail of their mission, but came up empty. They had landed at Lima at 4:30 a.m. and caught the first flight out to Cuzco, at 5:20. From there they’d taken the Inca train down to Agua Caliente. Now, as she watched Matt lean over the desk and sign a fictitious name, she tried to recall if he or Morgan had mentioned they would be traveling as man and wife. All undercover agents went by fictitious names, but posing as Matt’s wife? And then Jenny remembered reading somewhere in the back of the report that Matt and she would pose as a couple, tourists from North America—Matt and Jenny Williams. She was no longer Jenny Wright, single woman from Montana.
