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Undercover Twin
Heather Woodhaven
A deadly identity swap…The first exciting Twins Separated at Birth novel Audrey Clark never knew she was a twin—until she stumbled onto a covert operation. Now with her FBI agent sister shot and in critical condition, going undercover with Agent Lee Benson is the only way to protect her newfound twin. And as her pretend husband, Lee must keep Audrey safe…or pay twice the deadly price.
A deadly identity swap...
The first exciting Twins Separated at Birth novel
Audrey Clark never knew she was a twin—until she stumbled onto a covert operation. Now with her FBI agent sister shot and in critical condition, going undercover with Agent Lee Benson is the only way to protect her newfound twin. And as her pretend husband, Lee must keep Audrey safe...or pay twice the deadly price.
HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
Also By Heather Woodhaven (#u9dc933ba-dec5-5ebb-ba17-9a4d5b4e9703)
Twins Separated at Birth
Undercover Twin
Calculated Risk
Surviving the Storm
Code of Silence
Countdown
Texas Takedown
Tracking Secrets
Credible Threat
Protected Secrets
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Undercover Twin
Heather Woodhaven
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09738-3
UNDERCOVER TWIN
© 2019 Heather Humrichouse
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#u9dc933ba-dec5-5ebb-ba17-9a4d5b4e9703)
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Text to speech
“You want me to be a spy, don’t you? What exactly does taking her place involve?” Audrey asked in hushed tones.
“We have a very well-developed cover in place,” Lee replied. “Essentially we turn dirty money into clean—”
“Laundering money.” She blew out a long breath. “You’re asking me to pretend to be a criminal?”
“We go in and shake some hands, get on the network and get out with the evidence.”
“A fact-finding mission.” She placed a hand on her stomach and shook her head. “This is going to be a stretch for me. But I’ve also lived my life feeling like there was a giant puzzle piece missing, and finding I have a sister...” She clasped her hands together and shook her head. “I’ll do it. But I have conditions.”
If Audrey took Kendra’s place, she’d definitely be in danger, but at least Lee could be in control of keeping her safe. If she didn’t go through with the mission, the threat would never go away.
This was their only chance.
Dear Reader (#u9dc933ba-dec5-5ebb-ba17-9a4d5b4e9703),
I hope you enjoyed Audrey’s unexpected adventure with Lee. I do try to do hands-on research as much as possible but often it’s simply not possible. While I earned my solo pilot’s license at a young age, most people don’t know that the moment after I earned it, I never flew again. I loved flying with an instructor by my side. But once I was alone, flying over Iowa skies and required to perform touch-and-go landings, I stepped out of the plane barely able to walk before I about lost my lunch. I think I’d be just as terrified if piloting a hot-air balloon alone, though I do have wonderful memories of soaring in one over Kenya’s Maasai Mara National Reserve.
Often news stories inspire me, as well. While this is entirely a work of fiction, I marveled at the FBI’s takedown of Phantom Secure, an encrypted communication service utilized by international organized crime. I’ve also had a story about separated twins percolating for years. I’m thrilled the story ideas meshed together so well, and I can’t wait for you to read Kendra’s story, Covert Christmas Twin, next month.
Blessings,
Heather Woodhaven
I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
—Psalms 139:14
To my parents—thank you for letting me stay up to watch those ’80s spy and mystery shows with you and introducing me to the romantic suspense genre.
Contents
Cover (#u86b89972-529e-5457-a5f9-508e38c8fe5b)
Back Cover Text (#u11986249-c80a-51a6-8f28-19968ca6db9b)
About the Author (#ue4ef25d6-09f8-5d7f-ba73-ed80b9d5d7bc)
Booklist (#u4207b323-a9b4-53dc-b44c-09edba8a2303)
Title Page (#u4f0732e4-9ae9-5ab8-bcd9-b3fbe3e7d467)
Copyright (#u5e896013-a5f5-5302-9984-65e33cdbf032)
Note to Readers
Introduction (#u4e117763-93b4-5fe3-9d45-defa76429f15)
Dear Reader (#ub4f4b806-68b4-576f-98a1-7a47a5e81563)
Bible Verse (#u64881a08-7efc-5186-99d0-d76aa67bdd6b)
Dedication (#uc073ce18-44f4-504c-9b74-5a9387ec831a)
ONE (#u2d90a9ec-e738-5f55-8219-0d7b326b283d)
TWO (#ud358815f-3c61-5b5b-9ca8-d3160f84f85c)
THREE (#ue85863c6-de5a-539f-a540-52622b82349a)
FOUR (#u80c87c37-3966-5b5d-b387-3b9371991779)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u9dc933ba-dec5-5ebb-ba17-9a4d5b4e9703)
Audrey Clark adjusted her cross-body bag as she stepped out, under the cover of stars. The atmosphere matched her mood, dark and uncomfortable.
“You sure you want to be dropped off here, sweetie?”
A valid question as the university campus was empty in June, before the beginning of summer school. Audrey looked back at the gray sedan still parked at the curb and nodded at the grandmotherly driver. “I’ve been here once before, thank you.” The driver’s response was a heavy foot to the gas pedal.
Audrey had missed registration for the Postdoctoral Symposium, thanks to a delayed flight, even though the Stanford organizer she spoke with on the phone insisted Audrey had already picked up her credentials and itinerary. As if Audrey only imagined being stuck on a plane. Ridiculous.
But she was here now, and if she hurried, she’d catch the end of the reception, grab her registration packet and take the group shuttle to the hotel. Her missing luggage should arrive by morning.
The path lights lining the sidewalk bolstered her courage. She’d forget the miserable day and proclaim a do-over. Starting now. The reception should be in the building ahead, but the moonlight made everything appear different than she remembered. To her left, the roofs resembled interlocking building bricks. She followed the student path and spotted a sign listing five departments and their corresponding numbers, confirming she was headed in the right direction.
The mirrored windows of the Learning and Knowledge Center came into view, past a dozen empty benches underneath a grove of trees and the long shadows they created. Audrey fisted the tactical flashlight inside her open bag and strode forward. A campus security officer once told her it was the most effective thing to carry at night without a concealed weapon permit, as a flashlight beam could both blind an attacker and draw attention to a struggle. Plus, the metal handle could pack a wallop. Not that she’d ever needed to use it.
A man rounded the corner and approached. Middle-aged and wearing a jacket despite the unseasonable heat, his gaze swung from side to side. Was he looking for someone or was he scared? She stepped to the right side of the sidewalk and averted eye contact.
“Here? I thought we were meeting at Beckman Center.” His voice was soft with a touch of Southern dialect. Maybe he was on the phone, using an earpiece she couldn’t see. He looked over his shoulder once more before making eye contact, clearly waiting for Audrey to answer.
She pulled out the flashlight, her finger hovering over the button that would turn the light from dim to blinding. “You must be mistaken. I’m not—”
“Take it. We don’t have much time.” His left hand fisted at his waist. “I’ve been trying to lose someone all day.”
He shoved his hand into the front pocket of her purse.
“Hey!” She struck his shoulder with the flashlight, the beam of light sweeping across the sidewalk and landing on his face—
Gunshots peppered the ground around her. A scream escaped, and she hunched over, covering her head. The man fell against her, and they toppled to the ground, the flashlight bouncing and rolling away.
The impact rattled her spine, and the side of the bench’s leg dug into the top of her head. Her ribs ached from the man’s weight, making only shallow breaths possible. She twisted her shoulders inward, providing just enough space to fully gasp as her legs and feet fought for momentum to shove the man off her, but it was pointless. He weighed at least two hundred pounds, and he made no effort to try to move. Maybe he’d fainted. She strained against him. “Please...get off.”
He budged slightly, but only his head moved as he lifted his chin and flopped against her shoulder. “Your covers.” The man’s voice shook. “Not first one. Several.” His rasp grew louder between sentences. “You need—” He groaned, seemingly unable to speak further.
