When Samantha Reynolds yacht was hijacked by pirates one of them claims her as his own until
they reach their destination. What she doesn’t know is that her rescuer is with Interpol undercover
to expose a human trafficking ring.
The last thing Vik wanted was to blow his cover but he had to make sure none of the pirates kept their hands off of her. Sure Samantha is a spoiled rich girl but he soon learns that she isn’t a wilting flower either. They have to work together to make sure they both make it out alive.
The minute after I read DRILLING DOWN DEEP by Angela Claire I had to read the book before it and I am glad I got a chance to read UNDERCOVER SURRENDER. UNDERCOVER SURRENDER is a hold on to your seat thriller as you never knew what Vik and Samantha would encounter. UNDERCOVER SURRENDER has everything a reader could ask for, action packed scenes, with steamy love scenes as well as scenes that will have you laughing as well. I am fast becoming an Angela Claire fan.
If you haven’t read Angela Claire yet then start here and but keep your credit card nearby because
you will be buying more titles.
Interpol agent Vik Pillay is on the verge of shutting down a sex-trafficking ring. Working as a member of a crew that hijacks luxury yachts and delivers them to the ring, he’s been under deep cover for a year. The last thing he needs just as he’s about to make a breakthrough in the case is Samantha Reynolds—a spoiled little rich girl—complicating matters.
When Vik’s crew captures Samantha’s yacht, he can’t risk telling her the truth. But he fights to the death to claim her as his exclusive property in order to protect her. Now if he can just manage to keep his own hands off her.
Samantha doesn’t know what to make of this hard-eyed criminal and his restraint. But she’s nobody’s damsel in distress. She’ll save herself and maybe lure her mysterious captor to her bed while she’s at it.
An Excerpt From: UNDERCOVER SURRENDER
Copyright © ANGELA CLAIRE, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Sex was another one of those things each undercover agent had his own rules about. Some considered sex while undercover not to count. The agent’s “cover” was having sex, not him. He’d known guys who really thought that having sex while undercover was not cheating on their wives. They were just pretending…with their dicks in some other woman.
Vik had never felt like that. Even though he didn’t have the complication of a wife, the thought of sex while undercover just made him nervous. Too much opportunity to blow it. Being undercover was about keeping complete control at all times and having sex was about losing it. The two didn’t mix as far as he was concerned.
He’d made an exception in Jakarta, but he shouldn’t have.
Which was all by way of saying that, even counting Jakarta, he hadn’t had a good fuck in a very long time. So he was kind of overdue for one.
He looked at his “prize.”
In any case, he wouldn’t even deserve a penis if it didn’t get hard at something like the sight that was greeting him now. Ripe high tits covered by no more than a thin wet camisole and legs so long in shorts so short he could almost see her hip bones. Even when he forced his gaze up to her face, the plush lips and wide dark eyes plus the waist-length silky brown hair didn’t do much to discourage his libido.
So of course his dick got hard. Really hard and his jeans didn’t mask it. Though the clammy wet denim wasn’t making it very comfortable to sport an erection, his dick wasn’t discouraged. The only thing that could discourage him, if not his dick, was the expression on the girl’s sweet little face.
The poor kid was convinced he was about to rape her, as well she might be, if it wasn’t really him of course. How to reassure her without blowing his cover…that was the issue.
“Don’t look so scared,” he began, holding his hands out in what he hoped was a universally understood non-threatening manner. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Score zero as far as reassurances went if her expression was any indication.
“Would you like to get into some dry clothes?”
She shook her head no emphatically. Oh yeah, getting into was preceded by getting out of. That was probably the part she objected to. He couldn’t exactly leave to let her change with the rest of them thinking he was in here enjoying his hard-won booty.
“I’ll turn my back. Okay?”
He whipped his own tee shirt off and to the floor, though he supposed he’d have to keep the jeans on since he didn’t have a spare pair handy. “Those wet clothes can’t be very comfortable.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I can see your tits right through that shirt.”
“Fine, I’ll change. Turn around.”
Vik chuckled at her abrupt reversal. He couldn’t help it. She glared at him and he turned his back.
He was one of the good guys. He knew he was. Undercover work never confused that issue for him like it did sometimes with other guys.
So she had nothing to worry about from him, even if she didn’t know it. He heard her rustling around in the bureau. This looked as if it could even be her room, the soft blues and light woods more feminine than the other cabins he’d noted when he searched.
“Can I go into the bathroom to change?” she asked stiffly from behind him.
He had no idea what the layout of the can was and he didn’t want to worry about casing it first just to make sure that there wasn’t a porthole she could fit herself through. “Just put the dry clothes on. I can’t see out of the back of my head. Don’t worry about it.”
A rustle of clothes accompanied his refusal and when he heard nothing further, he turned back around. She was dressed in cargo shorts that went to her knees and an oversized tee shirt so big she probably normally slept in it. She had scraped her hair back into a tight ponytail as well, undoubtedly in service to this notion that she was making herself unappealing to him. It didn’t work. She still looked cute.
And he still wanted to fuck her. With a bed in such proximity right there, of course he did.
But he wasn’t going to. How to convince her of that? Without letting the others know. There would be no explaining tangling over her with Gunderson and then not sleeping with her.
God, this was so a complication he didn’t need. Pretty soon, the agents on The Victory would be picking up the stragglers in the lifeboat and trying to figure out why he had let this whole mission go so off course after a year under deep cover. He had to figure out how to salvage this mess, and one doe-eyed girl could not get in his way.
First things first, though. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was holding herself in such a brittle way she looked as if she might snap with the tension of it.
He had to let her know he was on her side.
Without letting her know he was on her side, of course.
He tried the obvious, which happened to be true. “Look, I don’t get off on a girl being scared.”
“Don’t you dare touch me!” she warned.
It was impossible not to crack a slight smile at that. The odds were so far stacked against her, given their relative sizes and strengths and her situation, at least as far as she knew, and she was still coming out slugging. It was cute in a kittenish kind of way.
“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t intend to sleep with you.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
There was no other way than to be straightforward with her—relatively straightforward anyway. “But I want the others to think we are. That’s the only way I can keep them away from you. If they think I’ve claimed you and will kill anyone who touches you.”
“You’ve already done that. Killed someone.”
He smiled. “So my credibility is pretty good at this point.”
She stared back stone faced.
He supposed he couldn’t expect her to feel as little empathy for that psychopath Gunderson as he did. He should show some remorse for sending another man to a watery grave, if for no other reason than to reassure her he was human.
But unfortunately, he couldn’t quite summon up any. He wasn’t that good an actor. Gunderson had deserved to die, long ago, and he was just sorry if in giving him his just deserts sooner than planned he had screwed up the mission.
“So anyway, as far as the rest of the crew is concerned, it would help if it looked like you’d made your peace with the idea that you’re my exclusive property.”
Her lips pursed. She was probably suppressing her natural twenty-first-century-woman objection to the notion of being any man’s property. Not to mention making peace with the concept of sleeping with her kidnapper.
“So I need to, ah, touch you when they’re around. As if I’m, er…”
“I get the idea. Why?”
Again with the suspicious look, specifically at the damned erection he couldn’t seem to lose right now, try as he might.
“I told you. To reinforce the idea that you’re mine.”
“I know that. But why the charade? Why are you supposedly leaving me alone? Are you gay?” she asked, as if there was some kind of version of gay that contemplated getting a hard-on with a woman but not wanting to use it. Which he supposed there probably was.
“That’s not an approximate thing as far as I know. You are or you aren’t.”
Now that they were alone, she was bolder than he would’ve thought she’d be under the circumstances. Rich girls apparently didn’t take much crap, kidnapping or no kidnapping.
“No, I’m not gay.”
She hadn’t asked about bi since presumably that wouldn’t preclude him sleeping with her, but he offered it anyway.
“I’m not bi either.” He sat on the bed, since he didn’t know what else to do. “Just plain old, you know, straight, I guess you’d say. But as I said, I don’t get off on it if a woman is scared of me.”
“So are you, like, relying on that Stockholm Syndrome thing? Where I fall in love with my captor? Because that is so not going to happen, buddy.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“You lay one finger on me and—”
“What?” He couldn’t have her not playing along, or at least being scared enough of not playing along as to make it believable. Distasteful as having her scared of him was, it was better than having her gang-raped and then probably killed because his cover was blown. “Let’s be clear here. If I wanted to, you’d be right next to me on this bed, on your back with your legs in the air in two seconds and there’s nothing you could do to stop me. I’m sorry. That’s just how it is.”
She looked a little defeated at the observation. “Okay,” she conceded. “I get it. You’re bigger than me. You could overpower me. But you don’t want to.” She didn’t bother to look down at his hard-on that time. They both knew what she meant.