Читать книгу Undercover Encounter - Rebecca York - Страница 13

Beyond the iron gate of a courtyard, Gillian could see potted plants and a small gurgling fountain. It looked quiet and peaceful in the courtyard, a strange place for violence.

“Open the lock,” a man growled, his mouth close to her ear, the low, intimidating timbre of his voice grating at her nerve endings. She understood that he was trying to frighten her. And she strove to keep her cool. That was difficult when she couldn’t even see him.

But she knew he was big and solid and dangerous. And she sensed a simmering anger or some other dark emotion coursing through him.

Unfortunately she was pretty sure that in the first few seconds of their encounter, he’d evaluated her strengths and weaknesses.

She didn’t want to go into that enclosed space with him, but she could feel something hard pressing into her back and had to assume he was holding a gun—and that he was prepared to use it. He could already have taken her purse, if that’s what he’d wanted. A sick feeling rose in her throat as she thought about what he probably had planned for her.

With unsteady fingers, she fumbled for the latch.

“Hurry up,” he growled.

She gritted her teeth and did as he asked. He shoved her through, kicking the barrier closed with a decisive clank behind him.

She tensed, prepared to make her move. But again he was ahead of her. In one smooth motion, he reversed her position, whirling her around to face him.

She was primed to fight for her life or to keep from being raped. But as she caught sight of the guy’s face, she felt as though a large animal had kicked her in the pit of the stomach.

“Alex,” Gillian gasped, taking in the reality of the man in a split second, starting with the wavy jet-black hair and the piercing blue eyes that had bored into her in the bar. She’d been thinking about him only minutes earlier. Maybe, deep down, she’d known he might try something she wasn’t going to like.

A few nights ago she’d been thrown off balance by the hard stare he’d aimed at her. He was having the same effect on her now. Well, it wasn’t just from the way he was looking at her. This afternoon, it seemed he’d deliberately set out to scare the spit out of her.

She knew her own eyes hardened as she said, “Alex, you…creep. What in the Sam Hill do you think you’re doing lying in wait for me?”

“Is that any way to greet your savior?” he asked, his voice low and even, yet the anger she had sensed earlier was still simmering below the surface.

He was angry? Yeah right!

He was also excellent at pushing her buttons. She’d be smart not to let him get to her. Yet too much had happened in the past few minutes for her to keep her cool.

“Savior—my posterior,” she snapped.

He laughed. It wasn’t entirely a pleasant sound. “I’m saving you from a life of prostitution.”

“Get real.”

“Okay. If you want to put it another way, I’m giving you an illustration of the dangers you’re going to be facing—if you let Lieutenant LeBarron talk you into this job.”

Lieutenant LeBarron. So he’d been poking into her chain of command. Who did he think he was?

A few moments ago she’d been questioning her ability to deal with the undercover assignment. Now all her determination and righteous indignation came bubbling to the surface. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m a key player in this operation and I intend to complete the job.”

“A key player! Is that what the lieu told you?”

She felt her chin jut upward. “Yes.”

“Well, you’re not going to be a key anything if you end up dead in an alley. Which you could have if somebody else besides a fellow law enforcement officer had grabbed you.”

She folded her arms over her middle. “You took me by surprise. And you’re not playing fair. You’ve had the same training that I have. And you used it against me.”

He ignored the second part of her objection and focused on the first. “That’s the way it happens in real life. You don’t get to pick the place and time where the bad guy is waiting for you.”

“I know that.” She yanked her gaze away from him and made a show of looking at her watch. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m late for a training session now.”

When she tried to brush past him, he put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. It’s already started. Let’s go on to the next phase.”

Her head came up and she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“In case you haven’t gotten the message, I’m your trainer for the afternoon.”

“No.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much choice. Of course, if you want to confirm that assignment, you can give Lieutenant LeBarron a call.”

She thought about doing just that, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t do her much good. “No,” she said again through gritted teeth. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Then you’re with me for the next few hours.”

She wedged her fists on her hips. “What strings did you pull to get me into this position?”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable, then recovered quickly. “As you might have figured out the other night, I’m an integral part of this operation,” he said, paraphrasing her previous statement.

“Which means what?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s an undercover operation. I’d rather not talk about it out here.”

“But if you’re in on it, then we’re supposed to be working together! Not playing games,” she added in a gritty voice.

“I’m not playing anything,” he snapped. “If you got exposed and interrogated, you can’t blab what you don’t know.”

Interrogated! She tried not to think about the implications of that.

“We’re going to be working together, so we might as well get comfortable with each other,” he said in an easy voice. But she was sure his apparent conciliatory demeanor was just an act. Both of them knew there was no way for them to be comfortable with each other. Not with pictures flashing in her mind of the hot and steamy sex they’d enjoyed before he’d ended the relationship. Was he thinking about that, too?

He was walking in front of her now, so she couldn’t see his face, and she didn’t like the eager way he crossed the courtyard, his footsteps echoing on the paving stones. Just what did this training session involve?

She figured she’d find out soon enough as he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked a door on the far side. When she glanced at the number over the door, she noted that it was the address where she’d been told to report.

He paused and looked back over his shoulder. Managing a casual shrug, she followed him inside.

Alex led her into a dimly lit chamber. As soon as she’d cleared the door, he reached behind her and pushed it firmly shut. The sound of the lock turning was like a gunshot in the confined space. The drapes were drawn. Ignoring her, Alex moved several feet farther into the room and switched on a table lamp. In the warm glow from the light, she glanced nervously around the confined space and saw a chair, a chest, a night table. They were battered and old, like the furniture in her parents’ house. But this room lacked any of the warmth her mom had given their home. And the piece of furniture that dominated the room was a double bed covered with a dingy chenille spread.

It registered then that she and Alex McMullin were alone in a very small bedroom.

“I thought we were going to go over self-defense strategies,” she blurted, the words difficult to pronounce because her mouth was so dry. “This isn’t supposed to be anything sexual.”

He turned back to face her, looking her up and down, his gaze pausing at her breasts and then rising to her face again. “Well, there are two answers to that implied question,” he said as though conducting a lecture at the police academy. “First, you are playing the part of a prostitute. So, by its very nature, your assignment has sexual implications. And second, as I said, the two of us have to be comfortable with each other. Depending on how things shake out, you and I could easily end up in bed together.”

The implications of point two had her reacting instantly. “Now wait a minute!”

“I mean, we might have to act like we’re on very friendly terms,” he said smoothly.

As he spoke he took a step closer to her and she struggled not to back up. He was right, but she was pretty sure there was no way in hell she could act like she was pleased to be around him.

He stopped a few inches from her, well inside her comfort zone. Reaching out a hand, he stroked his finger lightly up her arm. Under any other circumstances, she would have turned him in for sexual harassment. But the assignment had given him the right to step over the line. Or had it? She wasn’t thinking too clearly because her reaction was instantaneous. A shiver went through her body, quivering in all the sensitive places, and the only thing he’d done was touch her with one finger.

It took all her concentration to keep from looking down to see if her tightened nipples were poking out the front of her suit jacket. At the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. His hand dropped away from her and she saw him press his fingers against his thigh. She wanted to take that as evidence that the touch had affected him as startlingly as it had affected her. But she knew that her assumption would never stand up in court.

For several heartbeats, neither one of them moved.

Finally, Alex cleared his throat. “So, you joined the N.O.P.D.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Keeping her features even, she scrambled for something that would sound like the truth. Certainly she didn’t want to admit that it had made her feel closer to him. That would be much too revealing. And she didn’t want to say that his idealism had rubbed off on her. She settled for, “It was a way to better myself.”

He made a snorting sound.

She reacted with an angry question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t say that your reaction was nothing.”

“You could have done better.”

“How?”

He crossed his arms. “You got yourself a college degree. There are lots of jobs.”

“What—were you checking up on me?”

He flushed, then recovered. “You don’t get into the police academy without a degree.”

She was still thinking about his response when she answered, “In case you haven’t noticed, the job market sucks. There aren’t a lot of terrific positions out there for college graduates who don’t go further in school. I could have gone back to being a cocktail waitress. Or I could have accepted a red-hot offer to sell copy machines. Both of those were dead ends.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “So you like playing prostitute?” he asked.

She knew he was baiting her, but she couldn’t stop herself from trying to explain. “Of course I didn’t join the police force to be a prostitute. But I can’t say I’m ashamed to be involved in this task force. It’s a good opportunity for me,” she said, repeating what Lieutenant LeBarron had said to her.

“Have you told your parents about this assignment?”

“Now wait a minute! That’s none of your business.”

“You haven’t.”

“And don’t you dare blab to them,” she said, punching out the words. “Maybe I can’t get you for sexual harassment. But if you mess with my family, I’ll report you.”

They glared at each other across several feet of charged space. Then his expression softened. “You always did protect them, didn’t you? Like you never introduced me to them.”

He made it sound as if she’d been ashamed of their relationship. That hadn’t been it at all. If she’d taken him home, Dad would have seen that she’d been gaga over Detective McMullin. And she’d wanted to hide her feelings from them.

“Actually, I was protecting your hide. I didn’t want Dad to go gunning for you after we broke up.”

“Good point,” he muttered.

To her relief, he stopped asking personal questions and made another quick change of subject. “Maybe you should get into uniform.”

Turning away from her, he walked to the closet and opened the door. Inside were various garments draped over hangers. As far as she could see, none looked like police uniforms. The colors were flashy, the fabrics slinky. And her stomach clenched as she watched Alex slowly sort through the clothing, stopping to stroke his fingers over a skimpy knit top.

She wanted to protest when he pulled out a short shirt and transparent top, which he examined with interest. When he put them back, she breathed out a little sigh.

Her nerves jumped again as he fingered a lime-green dress—if that’s what it could be called. The skirt was so short that it looked too skimpy for a skating outfit. And the low-cut bodice was adorned with large shiny buttons.

Alex held it toward her. “I’d like to see you in this.”

“No.”

He tipped his head to one side, regarding her with a deceptively bland expression. “What do you have against putting this on?”

“It’s indecent.”

“Yeah, that’s right. But it’s no more indecent than last night’s fetching little outfit.”

“Right, but I don’t have to put it on in front of you now.”

“I beg to differ. We’re having a training session. Your life may depend on what you learn here today. Therefore, you’ll comply with my orders.”

“You’re ordering me to put that on?”

“Yes.”

She could have kept arguing. She wanted to keep arguing. She wanted to tell him that the charade was over. She had half a mind to call LeBarron to ask how Alexander McMullin had ended up being the boss of her. But if she didn’t like the answer, she would be in a worse position than she was now. And she wasn’t going to let Alex come out on top in this encounter. If he was determined to have her looking like a whore while they were alone in this room, then she was going to comply.

“I assume I don’t have to change my clothes in front of you,” she snarled.

“Of course not,” he answered mildly.

“Good.” Snatching up the outfit, she stomped past him and into the bathroom. She might have slammed the door, but she thought better of that act of defiance. She was going to keep this on a professional level if it killed her.

After closing the door quietly, she took off her jacket, then started to pull her knit top over her head. Instead she turned and glanced back toward the bedroom. Maybe getting undressed in here without turning the lock would be her first mistake.

Certainly it would make her vulnerable to the man waiting for her. Determined to show him that she was aware of safety precautions, she clicked the lock, pretty sure that Alex had been listening for that small sound. She clamped her teeth together, then deliberately unclenched her jaw. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what she would feel like if some other man were out there in the bedroom.

She’d be nervous and embarrassed. But not to the degree she was now. Alex was the reason she was reacting so strongly.

“Are you still alive in there?” a voice called through the door. His voice.

“It’s not so easy to get into this outfit,” she answered.

“Hmm. Maybe we should talk to the wardrobe department. Guys are going to be disappointed if it takes you forever to get naked,” he answered.

She pulled off her blouse and slacks in record time. Just as quickly, she undid the gaudy buttons that secured the front of the slinky dress and pulled it over her head. The skirt was as short as she’d feared. When she looked over her shoulder, she could see her underpants in the mirror. Cursing under her breath, she tugged the skirt down, but that only made the vee at the front of the bodice worse. Working as quickly as she could, she struggled to do up the buttons. It was too tight across her breasts and too low to cover the tops. And the color made her look like a neon sign.

A pair of strappy high heels had been attached to the hanger. But there was no panty hose. Probably too inconvenient for quick sex. Since they were missing, she simply stepped into the shoes, then turned to face the mirror. A quick glance convinced her that she didn’t want to take a closer look at herself.

Deliberately she made a mask of her features, then unlocked the door and stepped back into the bedroom. If she’d been planning to show how cool she was, Alex had completely foiled her effort. He was lying on the bed, his legs comfortably crossed at the ankles, his shoulders propped against the two pillows, looking relaxed and ready for whatever the evening would bring.

All that was bad enough. The fact that he’d removed his shirt and unbuckled his belt made the breath freeze in her lungs. She remembered lying in the circle of his large muscular arms. Remembered the tantalizing feel of the coarse dark hair on his chest against her breasts. “What are you doing?” she asked, hearing the breathy quality in her own voice.

“Getting comfortable.”

“You’re not supposed to be comfortable.”

“I’m supposed to be pretending that you and I are in this room to have sexual intercourse. Or maybe I’m the kind of customer who’s more interested in deep throat.”

The way he said that made a shiver travel down her spine. That wasn’t the only reason for the reaction. He was looking her up and down, taking in the green fabric stretched across her breasts and the way the short skirt brushed against her thighs. And from the look in his eyes, it was apparent that he liked the view.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough. That tantalizing grating sound gave her hope that he was as affected by this encounter as she was herself.

What if she played this sexy? What if she gave him a dose of his own medicine? As soon as the idea surfaced, she decided that it was much too dangerous. He was much too dangerous.

“Sit down,” he said.

She might have defied him. Instead, to prove that she could handle a close encounter, she perched on the side of the bed. When he reached out and captured one of her wrists with his hand, she quivered.

“Jumpy?” he asked.

“No.”

He laughed softly. “Sure.”

“Why don’t you get on with the training?” she demanded. “You don’t have to show me how to have sex. So what’s on the program?”

His hand tightened around her wrist. “You may be on this assignment for a few weeks. How do you plan to avoid doing the dirty with the guys who are paying for your services?”

Once again, her mouth was so dry that she could barely speak. When she licked her lips, she knew he was following the movement. “They told me there was something I’d be able to use. Some drug or something…” Her voice trailed off and she gave a small shrug. “But they haven’t worked out the details yet.”

He made a snorting sound. “An experimental drug. Oh great!”

“I have faith in the department.”

“A long time ago, I did, too. And you probably heard what happened to me.”

She knew he’d been burned out. She knew he’d quit. But she was just getting started and she wasn’t going to let his cynical attitude poison her relationship with her bosses. “Don’t try to undermine my resolve.”

“Why not? Maybe you need a dose of reality.”

“I need to keep my focus.” She had been looking at his hand around her wrist. Now she raised her eyes to his and saw that he was watching her with burning intensity.

She almost lost her nerve, but she kept her voice even as she said, “Alex, I accepted this assignment, and I need to do well. For my own sake as much as for anything else.”

His face turned hard. “Did some jerk give you a hard time?”

She wanted to tell him that the jerk had been him. He’d dealt a killer blow to her self-esteem when he’d walked away from her. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.

Instead she shrugged. “I’ve had my share of bad times along the way. You know how the men treat female cops. I’m always being tested, so I appreciate the chance to show I can handle a difficult assignment—and put some prostitutes and drug dealers where they belong. Your role isn’t so easy, either. You’re working as a truck driver during the day and tending bar at night.”

It was his turn to demand, “Have you been checking up on me?”

“No more than you’ve been checking up on me. Actually, after I saw you the other night, it wasn’t difficult to find out what you’re doing. There’s a lot of interest in you around the department.”

The moment she’d said the words, she wished she could call them back.

His expression had turned fierce. “Oh yeah?”

She imitated his shrug. “You can’t walk out on the N.O.P.D. and not expect people to be curious whether or not you landed on your feet.”

“More like, they want to hear I landed on my butt.”

“No,” she denied. But she knew that was partly true.

FOR A MOMENT Alex’s mind drifted to the recent past. He’d made enemies when that murder case had gone sour, even though he’d done his job and never violated the chain of evidence. But somebody had screwed up. When he’d tried to find out who it had been, he’d hit a blank wall.

He pulled his attention back to the present, to the scantily clad woman sitting beside him.

He’d made an error in judgment inviting her onto this bed with him. And now he had to do something about that.

Focusing on her with laser intensity, he asked, “So what are you going to do if a john gets aggressive? What if he pulls a blade and gets ready to cut you up?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, he could see from her face that he’d hit a nerve. While he had her on the defensive, he reached under the pillow and pulled out the knife he’d hidden there when she was in the bathroom. It wasn’t as sharp as it looked, but it could do damage, just the same.

In a quick motion, he brought it down toward her breast. To his vast relief, Gillian reacted instantly, chopping the side of her hand down on his wrist, making him wince as he dropped the weapon onto the spread beside them.

“Good going,” he muttered.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked anxiously.

Machismo had him answering, “No.” Although it was difficult to utter the syllable without wincing. Carefully he picked up the knife and slapped it onto the bedside table.

She was sounding a little cocky when she said, “What other nasty tricks do you have planned? By all means, bring them on.”

He debated his options, thinking there were a couple of ways he could go. He was betting that if he wanted to, he could tie her up and do any damn thing he wanted. But he chose to give her a fighting chance. Or maybe he was the one who needed the chance.

“Okay. When a prostitute is with a john, he can request all kinds of sexual services. But the one thing he’s not supposed to do is kiss her. What are you going to do if some bastard tries the forbidden?”

She opened her mouth to speak. But no sound came out. There was a charged moment when they stared into each other’s eyes. He was thinking that he’d trapped himself. Then, without giving himself time to question his own sanity, he brushed his mouth against hers. It was only the barest contact, but it made him understand why kissing was forbidden commerce in the oldest profession.

His whole being absorbed the intimacy and the power of that simple act. He was instantly so hard that he was in pain.

He waited, his heart pounding, for her to give him a quick shove. That was what she should do, but she stayed where she was.

They’d come to this room as enemies, although neither of them had articulated that state of affairs.

Suddenly they were catapulted into another time and place as the well-remembered essence of this woman surged through him, overwhelmed him with the taste of warmth and honey and desire.

He was helpless to hold back the low sound of need that welled in his throat as he deepened the kiss. He had tried to forget the mind-blowing reality of kissing Gillian Seymour. But it had come flooding back before he could put up any defenses.

Slowly he experimented with remembered sensations, rubbing his mouth back and forth against hers, increasing the pressure, nibbling, taking her lip between his teeth, then plunging deeper into her mouth.

Somewhere in his brain he silently begged her to put a stop to what they were doing. But her arms only tightened around him.

The kiss went from heated to white-hot in the space of heartbeats. Unable to stop himself, he angled his head, his mouth hungry and demanding, staking a new claim as his tongue slid against hers, tasting and stroking and stoking his arousal.

How could he have given this up? he wondered with the part of his mind that was still capable of putting one thought in front of another.

Perhaps it was the same for her. He hoped it was the same as he pressed her body to his, glorying in the twin pressures of her breasts against his chest.

He needed more. Yanking at one of the gaudy buttons on the front of her dress, he eased it open so that he could stroke the inner curve of her breast.

She made a small, gasping sound, fueling his need. He had told himself he could control his reactions, but suddenly it was impossible to deny himself the feel of her body against his aching erection.

Hastily he pushed the pillows out of the way, then wrapped his arms around Gillian and lay back, pulling her on top of him, sighing at the wonderful weight of her body pressing down on his.