MIDNIGHT VELVET
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, March 2005
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow, OH 44224
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0110-9
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
MIDNIGHT VELVET Copyright © 2005 JACI BURTON
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Briana St. James.
Cover art by Syneca.
Warning:
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Midnight Velvet has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).
S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Midnight Velvet
Jaci Burton
Dedication
To Jamie and Mel, who read this long, long ago. Thank you for hanging in there with me and supporting me when I needed it most.
To Charlie, my partner in all things. Thank you for always being there by my side and encouraging me to reach for the stars. I love you.
Chapter One
If she didn’t get some action soon, she was going to die of boredom.
Nevada James fingered the plants on her desk, trying desperately to think of some way to stay busy. She hated working the night shift. The small cubicle suffocated her and being an analyst was akin to a prison term. Dissecting coded information from the National Crime Agency’s field operatives no longer held the thrill it used to. What she really wanted to do was become an operative herself.
Now that she’d received the letter informing her she’d been accepted into the field agent training program, her days as an information gatherer were all but over.
She smiled, anticipating the thrill and excitement of starting work with a seasoned agent. The commander told her he’d have her partner lined up by Monday, which meant tonight would be her last night as an analyst. Next week her new life would begin.
A call beeped in and she grabbed her headset, answering with her code name. “This is Velvet.”
“Velvet? This is Midnight.”
Ah, the voice of the mysterious agent known only as Midnight. She perked up at the sound of his husky tone, tightening her headset so she could hear him better.
Finally, relief from another boring night at the office. Her heart started its familiar race and for a second she almost forgot she was at work. Usually, taking calls from one of the NCA field agents didn’t give her a moment’s pause. That is, until Midnight called in. Then, the noise of the other analysts around her cubicle disappeared. It was just him and her. Alone.
His voice mesmerized her like a starlit sky at the witching hour, sending her libido into instant overdrive. The way he said Velvet made her wish it were her real name, instead of the code name the National Crime Agency assigned her. But he didn’t know her name, nor she his. He was just a voice on the other end of the line. Safer that way in case their transmissions were tapped into.
“Go ahead, Midnight.” Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to take down the coded information. She entered his name and the time of his call. Ten-thirty p.m.
“It’s hot out here, tonight, Velvet. How about there?”
Midnight’s steamy voice conjured up images of a summer evening, the air still sweltering from the day’s heat. Her mind filled with a vision of two bodies entwined under the stars, lips pressed against glistening, humidity-soaked skin. In St. Louis, almost every summer night was an experience like that. Only without the sexy part.
She broke into a sweat. “Yes, very hot.” Why did talking to him always make her feel like a bumbling schoolgirl having her first conversation with a guy? She was twenty-six, not sixteen.
“So, are you ready for me?”
Did he have to lower his voice when he asked that? She knew he was supposed to make idle conversation in case the call was intercepted, but, God, did he have to be so good at it? “Oh, yes … I mean, go ahead.”
“I’m trying to get an appointment with Mr. Smith but, so far, no luck. Maybe I can catch up with him tonight. I’ll let you know if I get one scheduled.”
With rapid keystrokes, she entered the coded message and saved it for analysis later, though she’d already determined that Midnight’s stakeout hadn’t yielded any results yet. “Got it. I’ll let the boss know.”
“Thanks. You always give me what I need, Velvet.”
Damn him. He sure made her feel sixteen. Nevada looked forward to these conversations, eager to hear his voice. It was always the same. He’d call and give her coded information along with some just-at-the-edge innuendo. She’d sigh and picture the two of them together, imagining how he might look. With that voice, he had to be hot. Her imagination conjured up a man a little over six feet tall, with dark hair and equally dark eyes. Tanned but not overly muscled. Kind of like a famous movie secret agent, only she doubted Midnight traipsed through the streets of St. Louis in a tux.
Silly as it was, she smiled into the microphone. Her fingers wound around a loose strand of her hair, nervously wrapping and unwrapping the tendril. She fought the urge to giggle.
“Got weekend plans?” he asked.
Not unless you’ve decided to kidnap me and have your way with me all weekend. “Not really.”
“Oh come on, Velvet. Surely you have some hot guy tucked away.”
In her dreams, maybe. “Um, no.”
He laughed, a sensual growl that made her tingle all the way to her toes. She put her hand on her chest to still the raging thump of her heartbeat. She was certain anyone within fifty feet of her cubicle could hear it. “I’ll give you a call when the meeting’s set to go. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”
One of these days he was going to make her explode right at her desk. “Of course.” She was always a little bit sad when their calls ended. “Take care, Midnight.”
“Later, Velvet.” A click, and then dial tone.
She sighed, absently playing with a leaf on one of her desk plants.
“You’ve got it so bad, girl.”
Nevada swung her chair around to face her eavesdropping coworker, Ellen Blair. “I do not.” She pulled the headset off and brushed her hair behind her ears.
“Oh, please.” Ellen rolled her eyes. “I listen every time you take one of his calls. I can’t hear him, but I can hear you slobbering all over the phone. It’s icky.”
Ellen puckered her heavily glossed lips into an air kiss.
“Stop.” Nevada was barely able to contain her laughter.
“No, you stop. I know he sounds hot and all, honey
, but he’s just a voice on the other end of a phone.” She leaned over the waist-high cubicle wall separating their desks, her voice lowered to a whisper. “You need a real man, Nev. You need to get laid.”
“No, I don’t.”
Ellen thought everyone needed sex as often as she did, which, according to her own accounts, was several times a week. Something about curvy blondes with baby blue eyes and long spiral curls must attract every man within shouting distance. Ellen was never at a loss for male companionship. The expensive jewelry she wore was proof of their adoration.
Petite blondes were in. Men rarely went for average brunettes like Nevada.
“You need it so bad you don’t even realize it.”
Ah yes, Miss Ellen the sexpert. “Think again. Besides,” she shrugged, “I don’t have the portfolio you do.”
Ellen didn’t even bother to blush, just brushed the expertly polished fingernails of one hand across her shoulder. “You could have, if you’d ever try a real relationship instead of a fantasy one.”
“A real one? Oh, I don’t think so. Besides, you get all the guys, Ellen. I’m just an applauding bystander,” she added with a wink.
Ellen shook her head. “You just refuse to see what everyone else does. I’d kill for your golden eyes and tanned skin.”
“You’re crazy.” Nevada waved Ellen off.
“Anyway, you need to get out of your fantasy life and into a real, hot, shake-the-rafters, between-the-sheets romance.”
Nevada shuddered at the thought. A real romance would be more than she could handle right now. Maybe ever. Her harmless flirtation with Midnight was right up her alley. Real was risky. As a fantasy, Midnight was the perfect man. In reality, she wasn’t the least bit interested.
Besides, she’d soon have a new job and be too busy for romance.
The phone rang again, providing blissful distraction from thoughts of romance. “This is Velvet.”
Static blasted in her ear. The call broke up so badly she could barely hear, but she recognized his voice immediately. His tone was sharp and clipped, not slow and lazy as usual. “Midnight?”
“I don’t have much time. The meeting is on. Heading…now…but…car trouble…”
“What? I can barely hear you. You’re breaking up, Midnight. Say again, please.” The connection was terrible, but she caught the urgency in the screaming codes he yelled through the static.
“No time… blessings near the greens…cemetery…have to…”
The phone clicked dead.
“Midnight!” She repeated his code name again, no longer able to quell the panic in her voice. Ellen whipped around the corner and hovered at Nevada’s cubicle.
“Midnight, repeat message, please!”
Nothing. He was gone.
She posted the alert for an agent in trouble and hurriedly analyzed the codes. Something didn’t make sense. His message only contained partial codes. She had to figure this out and fast so she could send an alert to the commander. Commander Alan Webster would get the ball rolling on Midnight’s rescue. All she had to do was decipher the codes and try to ascertain his whereabouts.
Shit. She couldn’t break the code. It wasn’t right. There were integral pieces missing and without clear communication from Midnight, she couldn’t figure out what he’d been trying to tell her.
“What’s up?”
She glanced up at Commander Webster. He always looked so calm, even in a crisis. His brown eyes were like a pool of valium and she blew out a calming breath. “Emergency message from Midnight. But his codes don’t make sense. I got no clear definition of his location, sir.” She handed off the printout of her analysis and the commander took a glance.
He scanned the printout and frowned. “You’re right. This doesn’t make sense. Let me get some field people on it and we’ll see if we can find him.”
Field people. What she was going to be soon. She was already itching to jump out of her chair and find Midnight. If she could, she’d have flown out the door to go after him herself. That is, if she had any idea where he was. But field work wasn’t her job. Not yet, anyway.
That’s why she wanted to be an agent. This standing-by-doing-nothing part of her job drove her crazy. Why couldn’t she be out there on the streets backing him up? Helping him? What if he was in danger? She’d heard that Midnight worked alone most of the time, something unheard of at the Agency.
“What happened?” Ellen asked in a hurried whisper as Nevada reclaimed her seat.
She explained the frantic call from Midnight.
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Ellen asked.
“Of course I am,” she shot back. “He’s one of our agents and he’s in trouble.”
Ellen smirked. “Uh huh. And you’ve never taken a call like that before.”
“I’ve taken lots of calls like that one.”
“Exactly my point. And not once have I ever heard your voice raised in panic and fear. That called scared you, Nev. More than any you’ve taken before.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m always concerned about the agents.”
“Whatever you say, honey.” Ellen harrumphed and returned to her seat.
Ellen might be right but it’d be a cold day in hell before she’d admit it. Of course Nevada was worried about Midnight. But more so than any other agent? Maybe just a little. His sexy voice did put him front and center in her thoughts. Even so, he was still nothing more than a voice on the phone.
* * * * *
Tyler Call hoped like hell that Velvet was good at her job. Otherwise he was fucked. Big time.
He’d just spent the better part of an hour hanging suspended from the undercarriage of a semi, which had finally stopped. Thank God. Now it sat in an old warehouse, with him still lying underneath it.
Damn the bastards who’d trapped him here. He’d just about finished planting the homing device when the driver had come out and cranked up the engine. He’d started to climb out but a couple men had exited the building, effectively cutting off his escape. He was stuck, an unwilling passenger on an unwanted thrill ride. Clinging to whatever his hands and feet could hold onto, he’d prayed he wouldn’t fall off and wind up crushed under the truck’s wheels.
And trying to make a call on his cell phone while balanced precariously underneath an eighteen-wheeler barreling down the highway should qualify him for stuntman status.
Failure? Not likely. Before today, anyway. This mission was heading in that direction, though. Time was running out and he had to escape. Lousy luck. This was supposed to be the easy part.
The mission was the most important thing. The only thing. As his father always told him, a Call didn’t fail. When he was in charge of a mission, it succeeded. Period.
And now, trapped while a bunch of armed morons guarded the truck, it was obvious he had only one hope.
Velvet.
Thinking of her relaxed him. And worked him up at the same time. Every time she poured that sultry summer voice over him, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Among other things.
Great. Hell of a time to start thinking about a woman. That’s why he never had relationships. Women took the focus away from his work and he wouldn’t allow that to happen.
The call had been hard enough to make and being outside as well as under a screaming truck hadn’t done much to improve their connection. He’d barely gotten the call through before he lost the damn cell phone when the truck lurched. What a night. He was tired, hot, thirsty and pissed as hell.
And counting on Velvet. If she was good at intelligence, which he’d been led to believe, she’d gather enough information from his message to alert the commander to his whereabouts.
If she didn’t, he was screwed.
* * * * *
One a.m. Nevada looked at the clock in her car and sighed. She was dead tired and finally heading home. She tried listening to the radio but flipped the power button after the first song, a haunting ballad about being lonesome.
Yes, s
he was. Just like every other night.
And now she could add worried to the lonesome part. She hadn’t been able to get Midnight out of her mind. The rumors about his fate ran rampant around the office. They had no leads based on the codes he gave her. No one could find him.
Had she made a mistake in analyzing the code? Missed a vital clue that could have led the NCA to his whereabouts? She’d let Midnight down.
In his first call tonight, he said he’d set up a stakeout on a vehicle hauling methamphetamine lab supplies. She knew from the briefings that St. Louis was only one of a number of cities being invaded by a meth-producing organization. What Midnight had found so far indicated it was a centralized effort. Some organized group was responsible for the funding, creation and distribution of this lethal drug operation.
It was so quiet in the car she could hear herself breathe. Her thoughts ran rampant over the clues Midnight had given her in that last frantic phone call, until something finally clicked.
That’s it! Something about his running list of code words made sense, and it had to do with a church near a golf course and cemetary. She knew St. Joseph’s neighborhood, had grown up there. And there was a golfcourse and a cemetery on either side of the street. That had to be the location Midnight referred to.
Under the freeway lights the exit loomed ahead. Without pause, she got off and headed for the old neighborhood. She always found comfort in the drive past her childhood house. It calmed her and reminded her how tenuous life was. If she blinked, it could all change. And it had.
It wasn’t until she passed the ancient brick structure that she realized what she’d done. What possessed her to get off here? A nostalgia cruise brought about by Midnight’s mention of St. Joseph’s? Or a viable clue to his whereabouts?
As she drove past the abandoned warehouse where she and her friends had secretly played together as children, her foot slammed hard on the brakes.