COVERT MAKEOVER   (MIAMI CONFIDENTIAL

     Walking into the elegant reception area of WEDDINGS YOUR WAY was like walking onto the set of a famous thirties-era movie. A young woman seated behind a delicately carved table greeted him. "Good morning, sir. Welcome to WEDDINGS YOUR WAY. How may we assist you?"
     "Rachel Brennan, please."
     The pretty young woman quickly surveyed him, taking in his custom-fitted summer suit and the state of his fingernails and hair.
     "Sean Majors, Carlos Botero's Chief of Security." He handed her his card.
     "Oh, of course Mr. Majors." Her cheeks turned faintly pink. "Mrs. Brennan is not available. Could I direct you to--" she glanced quickly at a desk calendar--Ms. Brooks?"
     Sean took in the large main salon of WEDDINGS YOUR WAY. Brooks. Which one was she? To the right of the marble staircase, beyond the display of wedding gowns and veils, in a cozy alcove, a tall blonde dressed in black and white with black stockings encasing her long, shapely legs smiled at a petite redhead in bright pink sitting across from her.
     As he watched, the two women stood. Oh yeah. The blonde was Sophie Brooks. How could he forget those legs? Sleek, sheer black stockings were an endangered species in Miami any time of year. They were extinct during the summer.
     As the bride-to-be turned toward the door and the blonde sat and re-crossed her legs, Sean admired the long expanse of thigh that was revealed below the short tight skirt.
     "Mr. Majors, I'll let Ms. Brooks know--"
     He waved his hand. "I see her."
     As he passed the redhead, she smiled pertly at him. He nodded without taking his eyes off Sophie Brooks.
     Her straight blonde hair hid her face as she wrote something in a leather notebook, then typed a few sentences into a small laptop that sat open on her desk.
     Her phone buzzed as he approached. She answered it, listened for an instant, then slid her gaze up his body, giving her head a little toss as she met his eyes. "No, that's fine. I'll take him."
     Sean smiled.
     She frowned, set the phone down and stood.
     He heard the swish of ultra-sheer nylon and to his utter surprise, his body reacted.
     Damn. What the hell was wrong with him? He was working, and nothing interfered with his job. Certainly not a beautiful woman. Miami was filled with beautiful women. Besides, he had absolutely no interested in women right now, beautiful or otherwise. He had his job and his daughter. He didn't need anything else.
     But oh those silken-clad forever legs.
     With a great deal of effort, he managed to keep his eyes on her face.
     She smoothed her hands down her skirt and swallowed, her eyelids flickering. Did she sense the battle that was raging inside him?
     Knock it off, Majors. His jaw tightened. He was here for one purpose. He had to let Rachel Green know about the second ransom note.
     "Ms. Brooks?"
     "I'm Sophie Brooks," she said, holding out her hand.
     He took it briefly. Her fingers were cool, which didn't surprise him. He'd have been surprised if they'd been warm. She was the epitome of cool. Her demeanor was smooth, sophisticated, unflappable, except for that tiny movement of her throat when he'd met her gaze.
     "Please sit," she said.
     He gestured. "After you." Cursing at himself for his weakness, he stole one last glimpse of her crossing those legs.
     She moved an album of wedding invitations from the small table in front of her.
     "I need to speak to Rachel Brennan," he said, eyeing the pink slipper chair, then sitting carefully on the edge of it and propping his elbows on his knees.
     "Ms. Brennan isn't here. Can I do something for you, Mr. Majors?"
     "That depends. Are you familiar with the Botero kidnapping?"
     Sophie Brooks's gaze snapped to his, the clear blue of her eyes suddenly turning opaque. He could have sworn something inside her shut down.
     She fiddled with the pen she held, then pulled a notepad toward her and began drawing swirling circles and loops on it. "Yes of course. An awful thing to have happen right outside our doors," she commented, her eyes on the paper.
     Doodling. Sean exhaled shortly. "Right. Not to mention how bad it must be for Sonya and her father and the people who were injured," he said dryly. For a second there, she'd reminded him of his ex-wife, self-absorbed and heartless. But he supposed he was giving the woman too much credit, expecting her to be concerned about someone she may have never even met. She was an employee of a fancy wedding planning salon. It was natural that her biggest concern would be for the reputation of the salon.
     But she'd heard the censure in his voice, because her pen stilled, and she compressed her lips. "Certainly. I heard your security guard regained consciousness. How is he?"
     And he heard the faint hint of disapproval in hers, as if the kidnapping were Johnson's fault, and by association his. "They're running tests. I'll see him this afternoon."
     Her lashes lowered for an instant. "Yes, I understand you've gotten his physician to allow no visitors until you talk with him."
     More disapproval.
     "What can I do for you, Mr. Majors?"
     Sean assessed her. She appeared to be in complete control-- poised, her legs crossed, her back straight. Maybe too straight. She seemed ill at ease. "You design the invitations for WEDDINGS YOUR WAY, right?"
     Her throat moved and she blinked.
     She was thrown off by his sudden change of subject. Sean made it his business to assess the people he came in contact with. It came in handy. Those tiny reactions told him Sophie Brooks wasn't a hundred per cent unflappable.
     "Yes," she said evenly. "I help the bride choose the perfect invitation to introduce the most important event in a young woman's life." She paused. "Is that relevant?"
     "We've actually met before. You designed the invitations for my wedding."
     Sophie did her best not to react. So that's why he looked so familiar. She knew she'd seen him before. She'd caught a glimpse of him on the day of Sonya's kidnapping, felt the sense of déjà vu, and thought perhaps his even, rugged features reminded her of a movie star. In the chaos of the tragedy, she'd forgotten about him.
     But now she remembered him vividly--his athletic loose-limbed grace, his broad shoulders and lean hips subtly set off by his tailored suit, his nearly perfect features. His wedding to a blonde debutante four years ago had been her first assignment for WEDDINGS YOUR WAY.
     "Of course." She held his gaze. No way was she going to admit she remembered him after that long. In truth, his odd teal-colored eyes had fascinated her, as had his harsh, handsome face and his confidant sexuality. She also recalled how much in love he'd been. She smiled. "How is your wife?"
     His eyes changed then, from soft gray-green to the dark shadows of a storm-cloud. "I have no idea," he said flatly.
     Before she could stop herself, she glanced down at his left hand. No ring. Not even a tan line. "I'm sorry."
     "Don’t' be. It wasn't because of the invitations." His lips smiled wryly. His eyes didn't.
     Sophie sent him a small sad smile. "Nevertheless--"
     "When will Ms. Brennan be back?"
     Back to business. Sophie watched as he deliberately refocused on his reason for being here. He tensed, and subtly arched his shoulder, then glanced at his watch, a shadow of worry flickering across his face.
     Something had happened. Her intuition, honed by her years with the CIA, kicked in. She tensed.
     "It could be quite a while. I assure you, I am authorized to act on her behalf in any matter."
     He nodded, and his hand moved toward his jacket pocket. In a calculatedly casual move, he checked it and rested it on his thigh instead.
     But Sophie noticed. She saw the corner of a plastic bag skirting the top edge of the gray silk pocket. They'd received a note. She leaned forward. "Mr. Botero has heard from the kidnappers again, hasn't he?"
     Sean Majors glanced down at the unbuttoned top of her blouse. His gaze felt like a caress brushing the tiny shadowed area between her breasts. They tightened in response and awareness drifted across her skin like the faint touch of fingertips.
     His gaze slid up to hers. After a couple of seconds, he looked beyond her. He could have been just looking out the window behind her at the luxurious pool area, but Sophie knew he wasn't. He was making a decision--a decision whether to trust her.
     He blinked and leveled his gaze on her again. "Yes."
     Sophie's heart slammed against her chest.
     A break at last. She smoothed her skirt and reminded herself that to him she was just a graphics designer at an upscale wedding planning business. Still, she was in charge while Rachel was gone. She had an obligation to get all the information she could.
     "And you're here because Mr. Botero doesn't want the police involved."
     "That's right. Mr. Botero has cooperated up to a point. But he refuses to allow them inside his estate. He doesn't want them to know he's heard from the kidnappers. I don't like operating without their knowledge."
     "We're willing to cooperate in any way," Sophie said quickly. She couldn't tell him that Rachel, in her capacity as head of the Confidential Agency, was already working closely with the police commissioner to keep law enforcement and media attention off the Botero kidnapping.
     "As I'm sure you know, we've been waiting to hear about the date and time for the drop."
     "And your security team is ready?"
     "Of course." He assessed her narrowly. She knew what he was thinking. He was Botero's chief of security. He knew all about coordinating surveillance and protection. He also knew all about cooperation with authorities. Luckily so far, he'd barely dealt with the Confidential team directly, and then it had been mostly through Rachel. Sophie knew Rachel had revealed nothing about the true purpose of WEDDINGS YOUR WAY.
     He dropped his gaze to her fingers. Aware that she was still doodling, as she did when she was nervous or concentrating, she smoothly covered the paper with her forearm without looking at it.
     "So Mr. Majors, what can WEDDINGS YOUR WAY do for you?"
     "I need copies of all your surveillance tapes from the day of the kidnapping. I'd like to interview everyone Sonya spoke with that day. I want to review all the statements from all your employees."
     "The police have all that."
     He waited.
     "All right. Ms. Brennan has copies of everything." Sophie picked up the phone and dialed Samantha's extension. "Samantha, have you got an extra set of copies of everything related to the Botero case--to Sonya's kidnapping?"
     "Everything?" Samantha's amused voice said in her ear. "I caught a glimpse of Botero's gorgeous security chief. Lucky you, in charge today. You surely don't mean he's sweet-talked you into giving him everything?"
     Sophie gripped the phone more tightly and avoided the gorgeous security chief's gaze as her face grew warm. "All the information we provided to the police," she said evenly. She'd never quite picked up the knack the close-knit team had of kidding around, especially in the middle of a serious situation. Her background hadn't been conducive to gentle teasing.
     "Ah, okay. Give me twenty minutes. So the unflappable Sophie Brooks didn't fall under the handsome prince's spell."
     "No, of course not. Nothing like that." She disconnected, feeling her cheeks turn warm. Silently and fluently, she cursed Samantha for teasing her.
     She gave Sean a stiff smile. "We can have that information for you in about twenty minutes. In the meantime, if you'd like, you can talk to our receptionist about arranging to speak with the employees who were here that morning. Or would you prefer to see our chief of security, Rafe Montoya? He's not here right now." He'd gone with Rachel to see the commissioner. "He should be back this afternoon."
     He glanced at his watch again.
     He didn't have much time. Sophie couldn't stand it any longer. She had to know about the note.
     "The kidnappers gave you a deadline, didn't they? When is the drop? What did the note say? How was it delivered?" Sophie stopped as Majors' brows drew together in a frown and his gaze sharpened.
     She backpedaled. "I mean, is Sonya safe? Did the note say anything about her?" She sat back and forced herself to calm down. Sean Majors had no idea she was a former CIA agent. Her job, and her biggest challenge was to stay in character. As far as Sean Majors was concerned, she was an employee of Weddings Your Way. Nothing more.
     Sean didn't speak.
     "Mr. Majors, I assure you that I am authorized to act in full capacity in Ms. Brennan's absence. If you like, I could give her your cell phone number so you can verify it with her."
     His face smoothed out a bit as he shook his head. "There was no specific mention of Sonya. But they gave instructions about the money, and said they'd be in touch very soon."
     "May I see the note?" She looked at his pocket.
     As he pulled out the plastic bag and laid it in front of her, she was momentarily distracted by his hands. They were large and tanned with long well-shaped fingers. Good hands. Competent hands.
     She forced her attention onto the note, reading it quickly. "Two hours!"
     "Right. Not much time. We're going to have to be ready to move."
     She held the note up to the light, drawing a curious glance from him. "No watermark," she commented, then gave a small false shrug. "I'm a graphic designer. Mr. Majors, may we keep this?"
     "What reason could you possibly have to want the note?"
     "Ms. Brennan will want to see it," Sophie said quickly. "She feels responsible for Sonya Botero's kidnapping. Maybe a copy?"
     Majors sent her a suspicious glance. "How can I be assured it won't end up in the hands of the police?"
     "As I said, I can have Ms. Brennan speak to you personally."
     He shook his head. "One copy, inside the plastic bag."
     "Of course. I'll do it myself if you'd like to observe."
     He stood, shot his cuffs, and picked up the note. He was not going to let it out of his sight for an instant.
     Sophie stood as well. "Follow me." She walked quickly up the stairs, her high heels clicking on the marble. Majors walked slightly behind her and she imagined his gaze burning into her back, her behind, her legs. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Disturbing. Suppressing the urge to slow down and force him into step beside her, she sped up, reaching the second floor and heading straight for the copy machine.
     As he watched her like a hawk, she made one photocopy. He reached around her and cleared the machine, then inspected the copy.
     "Your confidence in us is underwhelming."
     He didn't look up. "This is my boss's only daughter. My loyalty is to him."
     "True. I apologize."
     He didn't acknowledge her words, just handed her the photocopy and retrieved the original note, tucking it back into his pocket. Then he stepped aside to let her precede him down the stairs.
     Sophie faced him at the bottom. "Where do you think they'll want to meet for the drop?"
     "Who knows. They don't seem to be concerned about being seen in daylight, but they'll want an open space."
     "Do it here."
     Sean lifted his chin slightly, staring at her as if she'd just confessed.
     She'd come on too strong. But she was getting the definite impression he wanted to handle this alone. And she couldn't let that happen. Sonya Botero had been kidnapped right under the nose of Rachel Brennan's Miami Confidential Team. Rachel was absolutely determined to get Sonya back, and Sophie and the rest of the team felt the same way. It had happened on their watch. It was their responsibility.
     "It's the perfect place," she said quickly. "Sonya was kidnapped here. That means the kidnappers know the entire area intimately. We can arrange the drop in the circular drive out front. Cancel all appointments for the time frame to ensure that no one is around. It's relatively isolated, yet out in the open. It would make sense."
     Sean cocked one brow. "You seem to have all the bases covered. Have you been thinking about this a lot?"
     His remark gave her pause. Actually, the thought of using WEDDINGS YOUR WAY for the ransom drop had just occurred to her. "I watch a lot of TV. But it does make sense, doesn't it?"
     "Assuming the kidnappers are generous enough to let us make that decision, which I doubt will happen. Isn't this Montoya's territory?"
     "Yes, but he and Ms. Brennan are out all morning. That means it could be hours before you could talk with them about arrangements. That's time wasted."
     "Who do you suggest to make the drop?"
     Sophie took a deep breath. "Me. I work here. I'm sure the kidnappers know all the employees of Weddings Your Way. They would have cased us pretty thoroughly before they planned the kidnapping."
     "Cased you?"
     "Sorry." Sophie smoothed her skirt and looked down. "Like I said, I guess I watch too many cop shows."
     "You think?"
     She frowned at his sarcastic remark and the storm clouds still darkening his eyes. She challenged him. "You think I can't handle it."
     "I'm sure you can. All you'd have to do is walk a few steps and set down a suitcase. My question is why do you want to?"
     His voice was harsh, suspicious. He obviously suspected that she had an ulterior motive. Surely he didn't think she was in on the kidnapping?
     She couldn't tell him the truth. That as a Miami Confidential agent, she had an obligation to make sure no one else was hurt.  If anything happened during the drop, her CIA training ensured that she'd be prepared. She knew how to take care of herself.
     Sean crossed his arms, waiting for her answer.
     Smiling slyly, she leaned forward again, making sure her shirt gaped artfully. She was rewarded when his gaze flickered downward.
     "I love the danger. It's a turn-on."
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