Federal Affair

Chapter 12

Nick's eyes scanned over the folder in my hands and then glanced around the room at everything inhabiting my office. Three tall bookcases, a fake tree by one of the windows, my large cherry desk, two filing cabinets, and a wall full of copies of my degrees, certificates, and various other accomplishments. I assumed he was sizing everything up the way the Bureau had probably taught him to do.

He looked good. Damn good. His dark blue jeans hung low on his hips and his green shirt fit him perfectly. His hair was still messy like he hadn't combed or brushed it before leaving his house.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, wracking my brain to determine if I'd forgotten I was supposed to meet him for lunch or something, but I couldn't remember making plans with him. Why had he come to my office?

"I wanted to talk to you," he said simply, sauntering over to one of the two chairs across from me.

He appeared relaxed. There didn't seem to be a reason for me to be nervous, but I was. I studied his features as he bent to sit down. Strong, perfectly sculpted, handsome, intimidating...

"What's going on?" I straightened up in my chair, feeling my pulse quicken.

He shrugged and pushed his bangs back. He looked older that way but it was a good look for him.

"Carrie, I need to know something." Uh-oh. "Are you sure you were just exploring in my house last night?"

He was analyzing me with squinted eyes like I was a criminal in an interrogation room and he was waiting for my murder confession.

I refused to break. I couldn't let him know I knew. I still needed to get my hands on that file. To do that, I was going to have to act like I didn't have a clue he was in the FBI.

"Of course," I frowned as if I didn't understand why he'd asked. "Why?"

Nick shook his head, his bangs flopping back into his eyes as a result. "Are you sure?"

He was softly tapping his left heel on the floor and I was growing more anxious by the second. He was onto me. He had to be. I was screwed.

"Positive." I acted like I didn't understand.

He continued looking at me expectantly. I refused to tell him the truth – at least for now. I didn't want to be the one to address that he was an agent. I wanted to wait for him to tell me. I didn't want to have to pull answers out of him. I wanted him to prove that he actually cared about me and that he wasn't just using me to gain information on Derek.

Nick crossed his legs, tapping his fingers on his knee. He looked out the windows at passing cars. My office had an impressive panoramic view of the city. Downtown Chicago, though busier than a hornet's nest, was jaw-dropping from this angle.

"Why don't I believe that?" He frowned, looking back at me.

I was so sure I was caught in my lie, I was about to give up. But then how would I find out the truth? There was zero chance of Nick divulging information about a federal investigation to me.

"I don't know," I said. I stared at the neighboring skyscrapers, trying to focus on anything but him.

"I think you do."

"Then think all you want!" I threw my hands up in frustration. "Nick, you're making it sound like you're hiding something. Something you don't want me to see. Is that what this is about?"

I could tell I hit a nerve when his jaw tightened. I'd thrown the pressure back on him. He wasn't about to admit his real profession to me, and I wasn't about to let him think his assumptions about me snooping were correct.