Читать книгу Laura And The Lawman - Shelley Cooper - Страница 9

She arrived on a gentle cloud of perfume that made his head spin. Antonio didn’t have to glance up from the figures he was tallying to know who stood at his side. Only she could smell this good.

Patiently she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. When he finally did raise his gaze to her, he saw that, up close and personal, Ruby O’Toole looked even better than she did from a distance. And she smelled heavenly.

Damn. He was going to have a hell of a time maintaining his objectivity around her. Not to mention keeping his hands to himself.

“You did a nice job today,” she said. “Joseph is pleased.”

Her smile, though warm, didn’t quite reach her eyes. Because her face was so enchanting, he doubted most people even noticed. He probably wouldn’t have noticed himself, if he hadn’t been trained to do so, and if he hadn’t already been on guard against her.

On the other hand, her voice was like liquid smoke. It did things to his insides that should have been illegal.

“Thank you.” His voice came out raspy, and he cleared his throat. “Need a drink,” he lied, quickly raising the glass of water to his mouth.

When he replaced the drained receptacle on the podium, she extended her hand. “I’m Ruby O’Toole.”

The fingers she slid into his palm were soft and supple, her nails perfectly manicured and coated by a pale-pink polish the color of her suit. It was obvious that Ruby O’Toole had never toiled in the trenches like other mere mortals.

“I know who you are,” he said.

Her eyebrows arched delicately. “You do?”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

Again that arch. “My reputation?”

“For beauty. And charm.”

She looked pleased. “I thought it was time we met, since we’re going to be working closely together.”

Despite the recent drink, his mouth went dry. “We are?”

“Very closely. You have my word, Mr. Corsi, that before the week is over, you and I will be on exceedingly intimate terms.”

Antonio nearly did a double take. He stared at her, not quite ready to believe what his gut, and the uncontrollable pounding of his heart, were telling him. Was she coming on to him?

“What kind of intimate terms are those?” he asked carefully, ignoring the exceedingly intimate visions of entwined limbs and naked body parts dancing across the viewing screen of his mind. He wasn’t a man who jumped to conclusions. If time permitted, which sometimes it didn’t, he always made sure to weigh the necessary evidence before taking action.

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Why, business terms, of course. What other terms could they be? After all, I hardly know you, Mr. Corsi. We haven’t even been properly introduced.”

The woman was good. Damn good. He would give her that much.

“Call me Michael. After all, we are going to be on intimate business terms.”

“Michael,” she said slowly, as if savoring the feel of his name on her tongue. “And you must call me Ruby.”

“Very well, Ruby. Tell me, what exactly are these business terms we will be sharing so intimately?”

“Assessing the estates Joseph purchases. I valuate all the artwork and jewelry. Joseph plans on using you to valuate the furniture and glassware. We’ll be working side by side. I’m looking forward to it. Peter, the man you replaced, could be such a dull boy. I’m counting on you to liven things up.”

He glanced over to where Joseph stood, talking into his cell phone. A new thought occurred to him. Had his boss put Ruby up to this? An initial test of his loyalty, perhaps?

Antonio decided it was time to learn what this woman was really up to. And just how far she would go with Joseph standing so close by. Since she was eyeing him as if he was the main course on her menu, he decided he would return the favor.

She didn’t flinch. In fact, the longer and the harder he looked, the more she seemed to preen. And the faster his heart thundered.

“See enough?” she finally asked coyly.

“You wanted me to look,” he replied, glancing again at his boss, who was still deep in conversation with whomever he was speaking to on the phone.

Ruby had obviously seen him eyeing Joseph, because she said, “If you’re worried about him, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I promise. If you want to look again, at a later time, I won’t tell.”

Disgust washed through him. He couldn’t believe it. Her lover stood not ten feet away, and she’d all but invited Antonio to jump her bones. Was it just hours ago that he’d anticipated such a welcome from her? He didn’t need this. Not here. Not now. Not ever. He had more important things to occupy his mind than the unwanted advances of his boss’s mistress.

His own relationships might be fleeting. They might never have the altar as their ultimate goal. The nature of his work—erratic hours, multiple disguises and false identities—all but demanded it be that way. Still, he did practice fidelity when he was with a woman, and he expected the same respect from her.

Did Ruby O’Toole have no moral backbone? How had he ever thought he was attracted to her? Right now it was all he could do not to let his feelings show on his face.

He was behaving out of character—Michael Corsi could handle women like Ruby in his sleep—and that had to stop right now. Besides, he should be glad his personal feelings were no longer going to be a problem where she was concerned. He could concentrate solely on the job he was sent here to do, without the bother of unnecessary complications.

It was obvious he hadn’t hidden his feelings as well as he’d thought, because she said, “Perhaps, Michael, I’ve given you the wrong impression. Regardless of what you might be thinking right now about my dubious moral character, I’m not easy. What I am is an incorrigible flirt. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you. Ask Joseph. I don’t mean anything by it. And I never follow through, except with the man in my life.”

While it didn’t surprise him that she had resorted to damage control, especially if Joseph had ordered her actions, it did amaze him that she’d admitted so readily what she was. Despite that, he felt an uncontrollable urge to shake her up a bit. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

“Where I come from, we have another word for what you’re doing,” he murmured.

“What word is that?”

“Teasing. Didn’t anyone ever teach you what happens to teases?”

A defiant light lit her eyes. “No. What happens to them?”

“They often find themselves in sticky situations. The kind where they could easily get hurt.”

She gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve survived so far.”

He gritted his teeth. “I can see that you have. So tell me, Ruby, why are you an incorrigible flirt?”

“It’s simple, really.” She gave a delicate shrug. “I like having men look at me, and I like looking back.”

Antonio recalled the way her smile hadn’t quite reached her eyes. “Really?”

Her gaze grew watchful. “Yes, really. What other reason could there be?”

This time, he was the one who shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you flirt so blatantly with men because you want to keep them at arm’s length. Is there a reason you don’t want a man close?”

She looked taken aback. When she spoke, however, her voice was calm.

“You’re forgetting one thing. I’m very close to Joseph. And he’s very possessive of his belongings.”

How close was she, really? Close enough to possess the secrets Antonio needed to learn?

“So I’ve heard. Never fear, Ruby. You may be on display, but I have no intention of sampling the merchandise.”

Before she could comment, Joseph joined them. Behind him, standing at a respectful distance, was his shadow, Matthew Rogers. Antonio wondered if Ruby had to send the man out on made-up errands, just to get some time alone with Joseph. The irreverent thought cheered him.

Clasping Antonio’s hand, Joseph gave it an effusive shake. “Nice job, Michael. Very nice job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Joseph turned to Ruby. “I just got off the phone with Howard Cabot. We got the Bickham estate.”

“That’s wonderful, darling,” she exclaimed, rushing into his arms. “You’ve been negotiating with the heirs for months now. All your hard work has finally paid off.”

“Yes, it has.” Joseph broke the embrace and stood back to survey the two of them. “I’m sure you’ll both understand that in this case, time is of the essence. I want the whole place catalogued, valued and auctioned off before the heirs have a chance to change their minds. Pack your bags, you two. You leave first thing Tuesday morning.”

A shout from the other side of the room claimed Joseph’s attention, which was a good thing, since it prevented him from seeing the look of dismay that crossed Antonio’s face.

“We’re having dinner together later?” he asked Ruby when he turned back.

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you then.” He nodded to Antonio. “I’ll leave it to the two of you to work out the fine details of the trip. Sorry to run, but as you can see, I’m needed elsewhere.”

Antonio stared after Joseph’s departing figure. He’d just started his job, and already Joseph was sending him out of town. Was something big going to happen while he was gone? Was that why Joseph was sending him away?

“Where’s the Bickham estate?” he asked.

“A tiny town in the extreme southeastern tip of West Virginia,” Ruby replied.

“How big is it?”

“In the ten-million-dollar range. Excluding the house and grounds, of course.” She sounded as disheartened by the whole thing as he was.

“So it’s not something we can value in a day and be home in time for dinner.”

“We’ll be lucky if we’ll be done in three days, and that’s working overtime.”

Great. Just great. Still, it gave him a chance to prove himself to Joseph, and early on in the game, too. It also gave him a chance to get to know Ruby better. Much as he found her character lacking, it was an opportunity he’d be foolish to ignore.

“What kind of car do you drive?” he asked, turning his attention to her.

“Corvette. A two-seater. Why?”

“I gather you don’t pack light.” His voice was dry.

“You gather right.” She looked amused.

“Then we’d better take my truck. It’ll give us more room.”

Her look of amusement fled. “Your truck?”

“Yes. That a problem?”

“It’s a long drive to the Bickham estate, a lot of it through mountainous terrain. It’ll probably take us six hours, not counting rest stops, to get there.”

Just his luck to be trapped in a vehicle with her for six hours. At least it wouldn’t be a cramped Corvette.

“I assure you, the ride will be quite comfortable. I also have a cap over the bed. You could bring along ten suitcases, and there would still be room. Can’t say that about your Corvette, can you?”

“Hardly,” she replied.

“You weren’t thinking I’d make you ride in the back, were you?” he couldn’t help chiding.

Her chin went up. “A gentleman would never do that.”

Now was as good a time as any to let her know that he might be more than he presented himself to be. That, if given the right incentive, he might be willing to cross the line from lawfulness into illegality.

“Who said I’m a gentleman?”

“My mistake.” Her voice was downright frosty.

“Is 8:00 a.m. okay with you, or do you need more beauty sleep?”

Now she was the one gritting her teeth. He’d obviously struck a nerve. Good. He didn’t know why he felt the need to get a rise out of her, he just did.

“Eight o’clock is fine.” She turned on her heel and hurried off in the direction Joseph had taken.

“See you then,” he called after her.

Watching her retreating figure, Antonio wanted to kick himself. What had happened to his detachment? Why had he made his distaste for her so obvious? Why had he goaded her the way he had?

He had spent hundreds of hours sitting and waiting, watching criminals until just the right moment to strike and take them down. He had dealt with the scum of the earth—street-corner drug dealers who would peddle their wares to anyone, even children—and he hadn’t let his true feelings show. On the contrary, he’d done everything in his power to convince them he was one of them.

But in a mere matter of seconds he had let Ruby O’Toole wriggle under his skin. Even worse, he’d let his aversion to her get in the way of the job he had to do.

No matter what his feelings for her, he had to heal the breach between them. He had to make something good come out of their enforced togetherness.

Because auctions were held every Saturday, employees at the Merrill Auction Gallery had Sunday and Monday off. That gave Antonio two days to come up with a plan. Starting first thing Tuesday morning, he would try to get to know Ruby, to gain her trust. She was an important link in the chain comprising Joseph Merrill’s business dealings, a link he couldn’t afford to overlook.

She had been right about one thing, he thought, as he gathered up his belongings: for at least three days next week they would be working very closely together. Four days, if you included travel time. Four days in Ruby O’Toole’s company was bound to test his patience, not to mention his resolve. It might very well drive him mad.

For his sanity’s sake, he hoped she left that intoxicating perfume at home.

Even though Ruby was not the type to carry her luggage to the curb, on Tuesday morning Laura made certain she was waiting there a full ten minutes before Michael Corsi’s expected arrival. The last thing she wanted was for him to come knocking on her apartment door. Though the sparsely furnished rooms suited Laura just fine, they lacked the frills and finishing touches that would undoubtedly grace any dwelling where Ruby resided.

As a precaution only, Laura thought it best not to raise any further questions in Michael’s mind. The man had already proven that he was no slouch when it came to his powers of observation.

Promptly at eight o’clock, a gold, late-model Chevrolet Silverado pulled to the curb. After countless spine-numbing rides in the ancient pickup her brother had owned when they were teenagers, she was pleasantly surprised to find that Michael Corsi’s vehicle looked quite comfortable. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, the engine practically purred. There wasn’t a hanging muffler or a worn-out spring in sight.

Laura met his gaze through the windshield. Just the sight of his handsome face made her heart flip-flop. She couldn’t even comfort her guilty conscience by arguing that he reminded her of her late husband. Michael Corsi was nothing like Jacob, in either looks or manner. Still, good guy or not, and whether she wanted to or not, something deep inside her couldn’t help responding whenever she saw him.

And she was going to be stuck in close quarters with him for the next four days. How would she ever cope?

She wasn’t deluded about the real reason Joseph had sent her and Michael away together. Yes, the Bickham estate needed valued, and valued soon. But it also gave Joseph the perfect opportunity to force her to spend time alone with Michael.

It wasn’t going to be as easy as Joseph expected. If the expression she’d glimpsed in Michael’s eyes on Saturday, and the way he’d deliberately goaded her, were anything to go by, active dislike was the predominant emotion Ruby stirred in him.

Laura was honest enough to admit that her behavior definitely had something to do with that reaction. She had gone a bit overboard in her flirtation with him. A bystander might even be compelled to say that she’d come on entirely too strong. It had been a self-defense mechanism, a way to protect herself—exactly what Michael himself had said she was doing. But from what did she need protection? He was certainly no danger to her.

Worse than the way she’d come on to Michael, however, was the manner in which she had done it. She’d hardly been discreet. It had been pure luck that few people had been around at the time, and that no one had seemed to notice, not even Joseph, although she couldn’t be sure about Matthew.

She had to find a way to make peace with Michael. The next few days would be excruciating if they were constantly at each other’s throats.

Besides, alienating him the way she had wouldn’t get her job done. It wouldn’t get her closer to any secrets he might have, such as his real involvement with Joseph. Like it or not, the job had to come first, and her personal feelings last.

To that end, she was determined to be civil to him, no matter how great the provocation. She wouldn’t let him get to her the way he had on Saturday. She wouldn’t make any more stupid mistakes. She would calmly, coolly and rationally do the work that both Joseph and the police department expected her to do.

A soft click announced the opening of the driver’s side door. Seconds later the man who had occupied far too many of her thoughts over the past three days was standing before her.

One foot still in the street, Michael balanced the other on the curb. Leaning forward slightly, he squinted at her in the bright sunlight while he slid his right hand into his pants pocket and draped his left arm negligently across a parking meter.

He really had no business standing that way, Laura decided, as she shielded her eyes from the sun and tried to ignore the way her pulse leaped. It was too provocative by far. The material of his faded blue jeans strained against his muscled thighs in a way that drew her eyes upward to an area they had no business being drawn to.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, once she’d torn her gaze away from the danger zone, she found herself entranced by the way his navy-blue T-shirt hugged an impressive chest, muscular biceps and trim waist. The force of Michael Corsi’s masculinity practically shimmered like a wave of heat on the air. If it had been a virus, no female over the age of consent would have been immune.

Laura had always reveled in her sexuality while Jacob was alive. Since his death she had submerged that part of her nature. Obviously, in Michael Corsi’s presence, it was trying to resurface. Whether she wanted it to or not.

She’d lost her husband and her child. Much as she had wished they would, her feelings and emotions hadn’t died along with them. She was a woman, and she possessed all the requisite feminine responses. While she might not be ready to resume that part of her life, she shouldn’t beat herself up over a normal, healthy, human reaction.

The way Michael Corsi made her feel was a nuisance, like a nosebleed or the hiccups. The good news was, she knew how to handle such nuisances. If she ignored the unwanted emotions he aroused in her, they’d simply go away.

“You’re on time,” he drawled, by way of greeting.

His eyes were hooded, hiding his expression from her. The neutral tone of his voice gave nothing away.

“You’re on time,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“No reason, except…”

The way he let his words trail off told her he hadn’t been about to pay her a compliment. Here they went again. So much for her effort at civility.

“Except what?” she couldn’t help asking.

He shrugged. “You’re that kind of woman.”

“The habitually late kind?”

“No,” he replied evenly. “The high-maintenance kind. In my experience, they’re rarely on time.”

She had no business being offended. After all, he’d pegged Ruby to a T. Which meant she was doing a bang-up job of being her alter ego. She should be pleased.

“I am a high-maintenance woman,” she said stiffly. “I’ll be the first to admit it. But I’m also a woman who takes her job seriously. Whether you believe it or not, Michael, I earn every penny Joseph pays me. I might keep a man waiting for a date, but I am always on time for work.”

He took his foot off the curb and straightened to his full height. “I apologize,” he said, then surprised her by smiling ruefully. “You might find this hard to believe, but I didn’t set out this morning to antagonize you. Matter of fact, I promised myself I would be on my best behavior.”

His smile and his honesty disarmed her. Laura couldn’t help laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“We are. We’re quite a pair, you and I. I promised myself the same thing.”

His answering chuckle was appreciative. “Looks like neither of us is very good at keeping promises.”

“Not this one, anyway,” she agreed. “I owe you an apology, too. I don’t know why I’m so prickly this morning.”

“Forget it,” he dismissed. “Want to give it another try?”

“Being civil to each other, you mean?”

He nodded. “We do have a long drive ahead of us. And, after that, several days of hard work. Things would go a lot smoother if we got along.”

Laura had never had difficulty staying in character before. But somehow, when she wasn’t paying attention, she’d lost Ruby. Again. She had to stop doing that. It was imperative. She couldn’t afford to arouse Michael’s suspicions. For all she knew, he was a plant Joseph had put in place to test her loyalty. She didn’t want to flunk that test.

In Michael Corsi’s presence, however, Laura Langley actually warred with Ruby O’Toole for equal time. That had to stop, too. As of yesterday.

“For Joseph’s sake,” she said, “if for nothing else, we really should try. But I have to be honest with you. I don’t hold out much hope.”

“Pessimist,” he teased, his brown eyes gleaming with humor and his lips curling invitingly.

Laura’s mouth went dry. Oh, hell. Michael Corsi in aggravating mode was attractive enough. In teasing mode, he was downright adorable.

Forget civility, she decided. An abrasive Michael was far preferable to her peace of mind. And much easier on her conscience.

“Tell me something,” she said, racking her brain for a way to put his back up again. It shouldn’t be too hard, since Ruby’s merely drawing breath seemed to irritate him no end. “You’re not one of those men who object to a woman driving, are you?”

Ruby O’Toole would gladly relinquish the driver’s seat to any male who offered, but Laura Langley would go stir crazy if she had to sit in the passenger seat the entire trip. She needed something to distract her from her awareness of this man. Negotiating the hills and curves of the drive ahead should do the trick easily enough.

“I believe in equal-opportunity driving,” he replied.

Michael didn’t know it, but he’d just given her the opening she was searching for.

“A man after my own heart,” she drawled sweetly. “Why, if Joseph hadn’t staked a claim first, I’d probably be putty in your hands.”

She felt a surge of triumph at the flare of impatience that flashed in his eyes.

“I should warn you,” he said. “If you take a spell behind the wheel, you could break a nail.”

Bingo. “I’ll risk it.”

“Won’t it hamper your incorrigible flirting with the men in other cars? I’d hate to have you cramp your style.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you will.” The words were not a compliment.

Laura suppressed a sigh of relief. The status quo had been recaptured. She was safe, at least for now.

“Damn,” Michael muttered, shaking his head. “I did it again, didn’t I? That truce lasted all of three seconds.”

Which suited her just fine. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Don’t you think we should be going?”

Michael eyed the three suitcases at her feet. To his credit, he really did try. No uncivil comments were forthcoming, although she noticed he did have to bite his lip.

He even kept silent when his gaze ran over her short black skirt, which was cut low at the waistline to expose her belly button, and its matching skintight sleeveless mock turtleneck top. But when he got to her shoes, which consisted solely of a strap across her instep, another strap that buckled around her ankles, and three inch heels, apparently he could keep silent no longer.

“Nice work clothes,” he said with a smirk that would have done Elvis proud.

“Thank you,” she replied, unable to resist a last longing look at his jeans and T-shirt. She would have killed to be able to wear jeans and a T-shirt. Ruby O’Toole, unfortunately, wouldn’t be caught dead in them. Under any circumstances.

More than the impractical clothing, what Laura really hated was having to spend an hour every morning putting herself together. It was such a pain having to keep her nails manicured and perfectly painted, her hair styled and her makeup just so. It was beyond her why women wasted all that time on their outward image.

Laura had always prided herself on being more interested in a person’s character than his or her appearance. She preferred substance over style. Unfortunately, had she played herself instead of Ruby, she never would have captured Joseph’s attention. Or Michael’s.

“You really like my outfit?” she asked. Flashing him Ruby’s patented smile, she smoothed her hands down her skirt. While the movement was made to look alluring, in reality it was a disguised attempt at pushing the tight fabric farther down her thighs. Even though she showed more skin in a bathing suit, the outfit still made her feel extremely self-conscious.

“It’s a Benton Thomas original,” she added, when he didn’t reply.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not up on the current fashion designers. Aren’t you afraid of ruining your clothes? The last time I appraised an estate, it involved dank basements and dusty attics.”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s what they have dry cleaners for.”

“There are some miracles even dry cleaners can’t perform.”

He might disparage the way she was dressed, but he couldn’t hide the gleam of appreciation in his eyes at the way the outfit flattered her figure. The gleam would have definitely pleased Ruby. Though she fought it, and despite her avowal of preferring substance over style, it pleased Laura, too.

“In that case,” she said airily, “there’s always Joseph. He’ll replace it if I ask. He takes good care of me.”

Michael’s lip curled. “And you’re a woman who needs a man to take care of her.”

So that’s what he objected to. She’d have to play that angle up every chance she got.

“Doesn’t every woman?”

“Say that to my sister, Kate, and she’ll likely scratch your eyes out.”

Bravo for Kate. Laura was squarely in her corner.

“I take it your sister’s a card-carrying feminist?”

“My sister is a woman who believes she can do anything as well as a man.”

Wide-eyed, Laura asked, “Isn’t that the same thing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he nodded curtly toward her suitcases. “You want me to put those in the back?”

She gave him an obliging smile that she knew set his teeth on edge. “If you don’t mind.”

Muttering something she couldn’t catch beneath his breath, Michael tugged the suitcases to the back of the truck. She waited patiently by the closed passenger door while he placed them inside. It didn’t take him long to get the hint. With a long-suffering sigh, he came around to her side and yanked the door open.

“Thank you,” she said.

She realized her mistake the minute she faced the truck. In her zeal to play Ruby to a T, and to push Michael’s buttons, she’d forgotten that it was a long way up into the passenger seat. Her skirt was short. And tight. Laura felt Michael’s gaze burning along her legs as she climbed into the cab with as much decorum as possible.

Her temper was boiling and her cheeks hot by the time she’d settled herself comfortably.

“Enjoy the view?” The words were Laura’s, but they were said in Ruby’s teasing manner.

“A gentleman never looks,” he replied, deadpan.

“I thought we agreed on Saturday that you’re no gentleman.”

He allowed himself a smug smile. “We did, didn’t we?”

On that infuriating remark, he closed her door. A minute later he was behind the wheel.

“Buckle up.”

While she did just that, he picked up a sheaf of papers from the seat.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“A map.”

“A map?”

He nodded. “I got it off the Internet. It gives us door-to-door directions to our destination.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said.

He studied the page for a second, then, sounding distracted, replied, “What can’t you believe?”

“You’re a man. Men don’t read maps.”

“That’s a highly sexist remark.”

“It’s also the truth,” she stated.

“No, it’s not.”

“What is the truth, then?”

“When a man sets off for an unknown destination, he always consults a map. What he doesn’t do is ask for directions if he gets lost. Trust me, Ruby, if we lose our way, I promise to drive around for hours until we find it again.”

Laura gave her head a rueful shake. She’d wanted things back to the status quo, and back to the status quo they definitely were. Boy were they ever.

At least now the impulse to throw herself into his arms had passed. Unfortunately, it had been replaced by the urge to wrap her hands around his throat.