Читать книгу Undercover Passion - Raye Morgan - Страница 10

D aniel O’Callahan had eyes as cold and clear as the emeralds they resembled. He also had the mind typical of a hard-headed detective and a natural instinct for trouble.

“There’s something fishy going on here,” he muttered to himself, giving his grandmother a hello kiss on the cheek as she lay back in her hospital bed. He turned to stare coolly at the cute little redheaded nurse giving him the eye from the doorway.

“Oh, no, dear,” his grandmother responded cheerfully. “That’s just the remnants of my tuna sandwich. It made a lovely lunch.”

“Right,” he said, not bothering to explain what he’d meant.

Instead, he took a few steps into the doorway and glanced up and down the corridor. Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him from the nurses’ station. Giggling could be heard. Then, from the other direction, a low wolf whistle. He turned quickly but only caught the tail end of a candy striper’s skirt as she disappeared into another room. The giggling got louder.

He pulled back into the room, frowning. A tall man in top physical condition, with a steely gaze and a chiseled chin, Daniel was used to getting a reaction. Shifty characters tended to draw back into the shadows as he passed, hoping he wouldn’t notice them. Women pulled children a bit closer. Men stepped aside to give him room. When he spoke, others listened as though for instructions on what to do next. All that was routine—at least to Daniel.

But this was different. This was something out of step, unbalanced, completely whacked. He’d never caused women to peer at him and giggle before in his life. It wasn’t normal, and that, along with the weird behavior he’d noticed around the hospital lately since his elderly relative had checked in, needed investigating.

He was a cop, wasn’t he? It was high time he did his job—even if he was on temporary administrative leave from the department while he waited to be cleared of charges of theft during an arrest.

Daniel gazed down at his pretty little gray-haired grandmother, thinking the situation over.

“Listen, Gram, have you told anyone here what I do for a living?”

“That you’re a regular old gumshoe? No, I don’t think so.” Phoebe O’Callahan’s eyes brightened and she dropped into a loud whisper. “What’s up? Are you on a case? Can I help?”

Daniel gazed at the grandmother who had often been more mother to him than anything else and felt a bit of his tension melt away. You couldn’t look at Phoebe and not want to smile.

“Not a case exactly. But I’ve got something I want to look into and it might help if people didn’t know I was a police detective.”

“Oh, goodie.” She pulled herself up against the pillows, her blue eyes sparkling. “What can I do?”

Daniel sighed and half laughed. He took his grandmother’s blue-veined hand in his larger paw and looked at her lovingly. She’d had a very scary fall the day before and he’d brought her in for observation. The doctors had found some problems and since she’d had numerous problems that required hospitalization lately, including a major threat to her hip, she was staying indefinitely while they ran tests and gave her time to recuperate.

“Your job—should you choose to accept it—is to heal those bruises and get yourself well again. That’s what you should be concentrating on.”

“Oh, Danny, come on,” she fretted. “I want to help. Give me a hint. What’s this all about?”

Daniel shook his head. He loved his grandmother, but he was beginning to sense the parameters of a conundrum looming, and when he was working he didn’t usually brook much frivolity. The trouble was, a certain type of frivolity was exactly what seemed to be going on here.

To put it bluntly, the place seemed to have been infected by a love virus—and a pretty nasty one at that. Everywhere you looked, people were billing and cooing. It was pretty disturbing—enough to put you off romance for life.

Just that morning, when he’d dropped by to see how his grandmother had made it through the night, a very angular and heavily made-up occupational therapist had asked him with much batting of eyes if he’d like to share a doughnut she’d saved for him. The cute redheaded nurse had told him he was too handsome to be running around loose, and a tiny little volunteer had offered to give him a neck rub. Women didn’t do that to him. He wasn’t the type. It was just plain weird.

He’d been asking around, trying to find what had changed to bring on this wave of everyone acting like dopey survivors from a sixties love-in. No one admitted to knowing what he was talking about. But the one thing he did know was that a new center had been opened on the hospital campus. He’d been at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, just by accident. Called the Healthy Living Clinic, it seemed to be a fitness center and it was definitely the subject of most of the buzz he heard around the halls. Something told him there was a connection. It might be time to give the clinic a visit.

“Let’s just say I’ve got a professionally open mind,” he said to Phoebe. “But suspicion is lurking in the corners of it.”

Abby Edwards closed her eyes and took a very deep breath. She had to get hold of herself. This was no time to panic. Just because she’d locked herself in the supply closet on the first full day in her new office at the Healthy Living Clinic didn’t mean she was going to prove to the world what a dunderheaded incompetent she was.

“It could have happened to anyone,” she murmured gloomily, trying to convince herself. “Anyone at all.”

Anyone with a disabled attention span and a brand-new inferiority complex that was growing like an overeating teenager.

“Oh!” she cried, rejecting the defeatism with all her might. “Never mind that. What I need is a plan.”

A plan. A plan.

She looked around at the shelves of paper, the boxes of paper clips, the stack of shiny brochures touting the benefits of the Healthy Living Clinic and Dr. Richie’s approach to total health and well-being. You’d think someone would have thought to stock a few tools along with the office supplies. If she could just find a screwdriver, she could go to work on the door hinges and make her escape.

This was so infuriating! She’d arrived this morning so full of excitement, determined to show Dr. Richie that he’d made a good move when he’d decided to take her up on her proposal to revamp his entire public relations operation. It had taken all the nerve she had to put together that presentation and approach the doctor on her own, much less demand larger office space to work in. She wasn’t used to fighting for that sort of thing. Success had always come easily to her in the past.

That was until she’d opened her own public relations firm. Somehow, as though she’d come under some sort of evil spell, she hadn’t managed to do one thing right and her business had failed.

Failed! The word made her gasp, even just thinking it. Failure just wasn’t possible. If her parents had any inkling…

No, she told herself fiercely. You cannot cry just because you’ve messed up again.

Still, she had to wonder. If there was no one there to see you cry, did it really matter?

Yes, it did, she decided. Tears were a sign of weakness. The first step toward that very failure she was so scared of. And she could not afford to fail at this job.

She shook away that nightmare thought. Her luck was supposed to have changed. Developing this new campaign for Dr. Richie was going to fix everything. If she ever got out of the supply closet.

“Hello. Anybody here?”

She froze, listening. Someone had come into the office. Decision time. Was she ready to reveal her pathetic mistake?

“Gone to lunch, I guess,” a male voice muttered.

She smiled her relief. She didn’t recognize the voice. There would be no problem if a stranger rescued her. Saved at last!

“Hello,” she called out. “I’m in here.”

After a pause, the voice spoke again. “In where?”

“In the supply closet. I’m locked in, actually. There’s no handle on this side. If you could just open the doors…”

A sharp click was followed by one of the doors opening slowly. Looking up, she found herself face to face with a very large, steel-jawed man with a suspicious look in his green eyes.

“What are you doing in there?” he asked abruptly.

Abby stiffened and her eyes narrowed. She’d been ready to be grateful. Honest she had. She’d been ready to smile and thank her rescuer with all her heart.

But there was something about the way he looked at her and the suspicious tone in his voice that set her off. She’d been through a lot in the last fifteen minutes, even if it was mostly in her own head. A little sympathetic treatment would have been just the thing. Instead, she got skepticism. Frustrated, and feeling awfully defensive, she reacted a little hastily to his obvious distrust.

“Who, me?” she said, knowing she sounded flippant but not caring very much. “Checking for termites, of course. I always lock myself in closets so I can catch the little buggers unaware.”

“Really.” He wasn’t moving aside and he filled the opening. His icy green eyes had a penetrating intensity. She felt, for a second or two, as if she was being X-rayed. “Find any?”

Her chin rose. “Not yet.” She knew she should smile right now. It was time to make friends, not war.

You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, Abby. The phrase in her mother’s voice echoed in her head, but there was something so annoying about the way this man had jumped to the conclusion that she was up to no good, she just couldn’t make use of it.

“I have found evidence of other pests, however,” she said pointedly, flashing him a look. “I’m hoping I won’t have to call an exterminator.”

To his credit, one corner of his wide mouth quirked with the tiniest sign of amusement at her jibe.

“So you actually belong here?” he asked, still looking skeptical.

“You thought I was looting the place and got caught in the closet?” She resisted rolling her eyes, though she felt like doing it. “Sorry to disappoint you. I work here.”

“Do you?” He paused just long enough to increase her fury. “I was at the ribbon-cutting ceremony last month. Dr. Richie was there. Along with all the counselors and administrators of the clinic and even a few from the hospital.” He raised one dark, sleek eyebrow. “I didn’t see you there.”

She pursed her lips, wondering what he’d do if she just let go and launched herself at his throat. “It would have been pretty strange if you’d seen me there. I didn’t attend. I was out of town.”

“Ah.”

He didn’t believe her? What was he, a security guard she hadn’t run across in her few weeks working here? If so, maybe they needed a seminar on employee-to-employee relations.

“So now you’ve decided I’m a burglar?”

“I don’t know what you are. I’m just wondering why you’re in this closet.”

She’d had enough of this. If he wasn’t going to move, she was going to have to scrunch past him. Setting her jaw, she did just that and looked up defiantly.

“I’m not in it anymore. Happy?”

He turned, following her progress across the office, and she had second thoughts. Didn’t security guards usually wear uniforms, or at least a badge of some sort? He didn’t have either. And if he worked here, he should know about her. Shouldn’t he?

Reaching out, she grabbed the brass nameplate from her desk and held it up for him to see.

“This is me. Abby Edwards. Public Relations. And this is my office.” She set the plate back down and fixed him with a stare, folding her arms across her chest. “Can I help you with something?”

He shrugged, jamming his hands down into the pockets of his jacket and looking her over in a way she found particularly insolent.

“What exactly were you doing in there?” he asked, giving the closet a quick scan before looking back at her. “Besides the termites, I mean.”

She met his gaze levelly, but she had a moment of unease. Could he possibly be someone in the chain of command here at the clinic—someone she should be treating like a boss? But no. It seemed unlikely. He just didn’t have the right look. She could relax and give as good as she got.

“Hmm. Just what was I doing in that supply closet?” She pretended to think it over for half a second. “I’d say it was pretty obvious to anyone who was paying attention. Dealing with supplies would have been my first choice. Still, others may differ.”

“These supplies?” He indicated the piles stacked around the edge of the office. “That’s a lot of stuff to move.” He looked at her assessingly. “Tell you what. I’ll help you.”

She frowned. What the heck was this guy’s game, anyway? He’d come out of nowhere and now he wanted to help. If he was so suspicious of her, maybe she ought to return the favor.

“Wait a minute. Who are you exactly?”

He hesitated, then held out his hand. “Name’s Daniel O’Callahan,” he said shortly. “Nice to meet you, Abby Edwards.”

She glanced at his hand. It looked strong and tanned, the fingers long and tapered, the nails neat and even. For a split second, she considered refusing to shake hands with him. But she knew immediately that would be a mistake. Hey, she was supposed to be spreading good feeling, not making enemies. Gritting her teeth, she put her slender hand in his and felt a jolt as his warmth enveloped her.

She pulled her hand back a little too quickly and immediately regretted it when she saw the glint of humor in his eyes. Now he was laughing at her. This was possibly the most infuriating man she’d ever dealt with in her life.

“You still haven’t explained what you are doing here,” she said sharply.

“Haven’t I?” He grinned at her, going into a casual slouch that showed how very relaxed he was. By now his body language was telling her that he was completely at home and obviously feeling in control of things.

“No, you haven’t. Why don’t you tell me what you want and I’ll try to direct you to the office where they can help you.” There you go. Maybe she could get rid of him.

“What do most people who come to this clinic want?” he countered.

“To improve their lives,” she said promptly. “To attain a natural state of well-being through nutritional counseling, a fitness regimen and self-awareness instruction.”

He shrugged. “Count me in.”

She studied him for a long moment, glanced at the tight, narrow set of his hips, the thigh muscles that bulged beneath the fabric of his slacks, then back at the cocky set of his shoulders and head.

Nope. She just wasn’t buying it.

Of course, it was conceivable that the look of fitness and assurance was just a facade. Perhaps beneath that cocky exterior lay a hidden supply of raging neuroses. It was possible that this was all a front to hide his insecurities.

Possible, but not very likely. Not with that look in his eyes.

“What aspect of our services would you be interested in?” she asked him incredulously.

“The whole rigmarole I guess. Tell me about it.” Snagging an office chair, he swung down into the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Do you have a brochure of your product line?”

“Yes. But it’s not current. We’re having new ones printed up that are more informative.” One of her main projects since she’d been hired earlier in the summer had been to revamp the marketing plan. “Tell you what. If you come to the seminar tomorrow night, I’ll make sure you get a copy of the new ones.”

His nod was saying, “Okay,” but the look on his face was saying that wasn’t going to satisfy him. “Why not just give me a brief rundown right now?”

She hesitated. “I hate to try to do that.” She slumped down into the chair behind the desk, then leaned toward him confidentially. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Everything is in chaos right now. Once I get moved into this office and have a chance to go over the inventory and the scheduling routines, I’ll be able to give you a clearer picture. In the meantime…”

Reaching out, she picked up a flyer and handed it to him. “There you go. Seven-thirty on Tuesday, in the Blue Bayou Room.” Spinning in her chair, she took another look at the piles she still had to deal with.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me here.”

Daniel gazed at her speculatively. He knew he’d just been dismissed, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t succeeded in getting any closer to the truth about what was going on at this clinic, but at least he’d made a start. Developing a relationship with Abby Edwards, PR person, should give him a lot of access to the inner workings of the place. Besides, he had to admit, he didn’t mind the view.

She hadn’t seemed all that attractive at first. Despite her luxuriously long brown hair and her deep-brown eyes with the golden flecks, she wasn’t classically beautiful. In fact, his initial reaction had been negative. She’d come across as a know-it-all with a chip on her shoulder.

But once she’d settled down and started talking about her work here at the clinic, her natural warmth had taken over and her face had become animated in a way that was quite winning.

Abby Edwards wasn’t so bad.

Still, she very much wasn’t his type.

What was his type exactly? Hard to tell. A picture of Charlene flashed in his mind but he shoved it away. No, Charlene wasn’t his type either. Experience had borne that out. In fact, he probably didn’t have a type. He was just a guy wedded to his job. The fact that that job might be in jeopardy right now made that situation all the more bittersweet.

“You know I’m really interested in the work this clinic does,” he told her. “And I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. Do you have any samples around that I could take a look at?”

“Samples?” She turned back, blinking at him. “Of what?”

“Your products. I understand you have a line of vitamins, for one thing.”

“Oh, sure. The vitamins are very popular. In fact, last year they outsold one of the national brands in the hospital pharmacy.”

Last year. That wasn’t going to help his search. Whatever was going on here, it seemed to be of recent vintage. The vitamins didn’t appear to be contenders. He was looking for something new, something that had just been introduced lately.

“I’ll have to look into those vitamins,” he said smoothly. “In the meantime, have you got anything else?” Anything that might make a whole population of hospital workers turn into love-crazed androids? “Any elixirs? Love potions? Aphrodisiacs? Libido revivers?”

To his surprise, she reddened. “Hey, if you’re looking for Viagra,” she began indignantly.

He straightened, horrified. “No, no!” Now he felt himself reddening, and that hadn’t happened in years. “That’s not what I meant.”

She bit her lip, then leaned toward him, losing the outrage and looking sympathetic.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she said quickly. “If that’s your problem, I’m sure that a regimen of exercise will really help. But you might want to consult a sex therapist.”

He groaned. “No, wait—”

“It’s a common problem. Please don’t feel that you have to hide it.”

“Hide it!” He choked. This was getting him in deeper and deeper. It wasn’t funny. Well, maybe a little bit. But at the same time, it was damned humiliating.

“I don’t have a problem,” he told her forcefully. “Listen, you took it wrong. I’ve never had any trouble….” His voice faded out. Looking at her sweet, innocent face, he just couldn’t say it. “That way,” he said lamely at last. “Really. I’m a normal, healthy male.”

She was still looking sympathetic. Damn it all, she thought he was just covering up his embarrassment. There was definitely a good way to prove that she was wrong, but he didn’t think she’d go for it. So he stared at her in frustrated silence, wondering how the conversation had taken a turn down this blind alley.

“I can give you a referral,” she was saying, digging through the papers on her desk for a note pad.

Reaching out, he grabbed her hand. “I don’t need a referral,” he said firmly. “I don’t need therapy. All I want to know is what sort of products you dispense here besides vitamins.”

She was staring at him in bewilderment and he didn’t blame her. He was coming darn close to shouting, and that wasn’t going to help anything. He forced a smile, knowing it must look pretty ghastly.

“Hey,” he said, remembering something and releasing her hand. “Dr. Richie was saying something about a new product at the ribbon cutting last month. Something called NoGo or Nutrait or—”

“NoWait!” she chimed in, beaming with relief. “Yes, that is a new homeopathic oil he’s developed himself. He’s such a genius.”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, it’s flying off the shelves. It’s used for weight loss, and people are getting the most wonderful results.”

Right. He knew a little something about these snake-oil salesmen. If the oil was doing anything, it was through the power of suggestion, no doubt about it. Still, this could be the missing link he’d been looking for. Except for one thing. As he remembered, it wasn’t something people took into their system in the usual way.

“It’s not ingested, is it?”

“Oh, no.” She smiled. “In fact, it’s kind of cute. You put a dab behind your ear.”

That pretty much shot down his hopes. If you didn’t drink it or eat it, how could it change the way you acted to the extent it seemed to be changing the people he was seeing all over the hospital?

“One ear or both?” he asked with a rueful smile.

She blinked. “Tell you the truth, I’m not really sure. I haven’t tried it myself.” She scrunched her nose at him. “And I hardly think you need to lose any weight.”

“You never know,” he said quickly, not wanting to go back to speculating on what he might be needing help with again. “I’m not getting any younger. And you know how weight tends to accumulate as you age.”

“Oh, sure.” She was nothing if not understanding. “You can never start working on fitness too early.”

He nodded. She was charming when she started talking about the things she felt most passionately about. She sort of lit up with an inner glow that was quite appealing. He wondered, fleetingly, if there was a man in her life. But he dismissed the thought as soon as it formed. Despite her spunk, Abby was soft and sweet and seemingly naive—all the things he wasn’t. The women he dated tended to be the women he met in the course of his workday, and as a cop, he mostly mixed with a fairly rough level of society. He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like this.

“So tell me about the exercise programs. What are they like?”

She perked up markedly, her eyes brilliant. “Now those I have tried. They’re great, really the most comprehensive I’ve found anywhere. That was what made me so interested in joining Dr. Richie. I admire him so much. He’s been able to do what is so difficult to do—marry serious health advantages with movements that are just really fun and relaxing to do.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “But can he walk on water?”

She looked startled. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just being rude.”

The way her face was shining as she spoke of the good doctor, Daniel felt a twinge of jealousy. Though he would face death rather than admit it.

“How much do you know about this Richie character?”

She drew herself up sternly. “Dr. Richie is a well-respected expert in the fitness field. It’s a real honor to get this opportunity to work with him.”

She was cute in her righteous indignation, and he had trouble not grinning at her again. Could it be the exercises that were making people act crazy? It didn’t seem likely. But he couldn’t afford to overlook anything just because it didn’t fit the pattern he expected.

“How about a demonstration of the exercises?”

“What— Right now?”

“Can you think of a better time?”

“Well, if you come to the seminar…”

“I’ll come to the seminar. But I’d like to get a hint of what I’m letting myself in for.”

She frowned. She didn’t want to do it. She glanced at her piles of supplies, still languishing on the floor, and he knew she wanted to get things finished here. But she was too polite to say so, and he actually felt a twinge of guilt over putting her in this position. But it was just a twinge. He could easily ignore it.

“Okay,” she said, just a hint of her reluctance showing. Then she visibly put all that behind her and got into the swing of things. “Tell you what. I’ll do it if you help.”

Her smile was impudent. And that made him suspicious.

“What? How can I help?”

“I know some really fun things for two people to do together,” she said happily.

He forced back a laugh. He knew a few fun things for two people to do together, too, but he had a feeling they weren’t what she had in mind.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ll show you what to do.”

Reaching under her desk, she pulled out a large exercise mat and plopped it down in the middle of the room. “Okay, we are now going to demonstrate the Giaza.”

He was skeptical. He’d much rather watch than join in. “What is the Giaza?”

“It’s a set of exercises.”

“Sounds more like a set of steak knives.”

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him to his feet. “Come on, mister. You asked for it, you got it. Come sit down cross-legged.”

“Like this?” He did as she’d ordered.

“You’re nice and limber, aren’t you? And athletic, I’ll bet.”

He muttered something. For no known reason, he was suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

“Okay,” he said, settling down, hands on his knees. He was glad he’d worn fairly loose slacks. “What’s next?”

“This is the two-person routine. I’m going to sit down, too. We’ll be back to back.”

That seemed odd. “No kidding.”

“No kidding.” She stood before him and held her hands together in front of her stomach, looking like an Asian princess. “This is a way to center yourself and prepare for a more strenuous workout. It’s mind over matter. See if you can tune into the wavelength where I’m floating.”

Oh, brother. Psychobabble. Still, he’d better keep his caustic comments to himself if he didn’t want to get kicked out of her office.

“Okay,” he said gruffly. “What happens if I bump into you?”

She started to ask him what he meant, then stopped when she no doubt realized he was referring to the floating thing. She gave him a wry look instead and he had to give her points for getting it.

“Our spiritual selves don’t bump,” she said lightly as she began to lower herself behind him. “They melt right into each other.”

“Hmm.” For some reason that appealed to him.

She settled in against him. “See? Back to back.”

“‘And belly to belly,’” he muttered to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing. This just reminds me of an old folk song. About zombies.”

He could feel her stiffen.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but this clinic does not turn people into zombies. That’s a slander put out by another clinic in town that is being left in the dust as Dr. Richie takes off.”

He paused, a bit taken aback by her vehemence. “It was just a joke,” he said softly.

She changed immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little touchy about it.”

She settled back against him. “This exercise works better when the two are more evenly matched in size, but you can get the general idea. Raise your arms. Now sway with me.”

He raised his arms and swayed.

“Calm your mind. Let your eyelids droop. Think of water lapping on the white sands of a tropical beach. Feel it lap. Feel the hot sun on your shoulders. Feel the gentle breeze ruffle your hair.”

Little by little, he was feeling more than he’d expected to. As she moved against him, he became aware of just where her rounded bottom was touching his. It was incredibly arousing. The more she swayed, the more he forgot about the beach and focused on her body.

Sensation shot through his system and he held back an urge to make an appreciative noise. This was unbelievable. He’d been turned on by a woman’s backside before, but not like this. This was overwhelming.

He was vaguely aware that she was still talking. He didn’t need talking. He’d found that floating thing she’d mentioned and he was up there, drifting on a sensual cloud.

“Okay, now I’m going to lean my head back on your shoulder and you lean your head on my shoulder.”

Whoa. He’d had sex that was less exciting than this. His heart was beating as though he’d just run a mile. Their heads were now side by side and the sense of her was flooding into his system. He turned his face toward her. He couldn’t help himself.

She was saying, “Arms at shoulder height and straight out. Now turn the palms up,” and he was breathing in her scent, filling his lungs with it and wondering what her mouth tasted like.

She glanced over, saw his face too close and hesitated. That was all he needed. He was going to kiss her. It was going to be a little odd, upside down and all, but he was going to do it. He made a move toward her and saw her eyes widen.

Whether they were widening with shock or interest he would never know. He would have liked to think the latter, but realistically, it wasn’t likely. At the moment of reckoning, the door opened and a voice interrupted everything.

“What’s going on here?”