Undercover Refuge

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  She studied his face, her blue eyes probing and intelligent, and he expected a question about the nature of his investigation. Or maybe an insistence to know her conclusion was correct. He didn’t get either.

  “Do you still want to know why I’m really here?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I do.”

  She took a breath. “Okay, then. Here’s my story.”

  Rush listened intently as Alessandra explained the frightening things she’d been through over the last two weeks. She told him about the note she’d found from her father, her voice quavering slightly before she quickly went on to talking about how she’d gone to someone she knew at the Seattle PD for advice. She explained how that same someone did think the note warranted a bit of an inquiry, and how she’d waited to hear back, only to find out that it would never happen. The officer was dead. An accidental overdose that Alessandra swore was impossible. Her friend was very open about the fact that she’d grown up in an addict’s home, and was proud to have risen above it all to become a well-decorated officer.

  “There’s no way she was doing drugs,” Alessandra told him, her voice full of conviction and sadness. “We had lunch just the week before all this happened. She was hoping to get moved onto a narcotics task force. Rush... I’m not naive enough to believe you can know everything about another person, and we weren’t all that close, but this... I’d have known.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I believe you, Red.”

  It was true. He’d spent enough time around liars and cheats to know the difference between someone who was sure about something and someone who just wanted to be. He might’ve said there was a chance she was mistaken, but coupling her story with the fact that Garibaldi admitted to having a source inside the Seattle PD... Rush was just as sure as Alessandra.

  Her fingers tightened around his, and she shot him a look so grateful that it was almost heartbreaking. An uncomfortable thickness formed in Rush’s throat, and he had to clear it before he could speak again.

  “So after all that happened,” he said, “Jesse Garibaldi invited you up here, and you came because of the correlation to your father’s note?”

  Her mouth curved a little. “Now you actually sound like a cop.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I can honestly say that’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”

  She smiled for a second longer, then shook her head and went back to his question. “It is why I came. But there’s more.”

  She told him about the surf shop she owned. Even though he was puzzled as to why she was giving him so many details, he listened intently anyway, enjoying her enthusiastic description. The store was right on a beach, so close that Alessandra sometimes got wayward sea life right on her doorstep. She said that there were other stores nearby, but that hers stood alone. Independent, she called it with an affectionate laugh. She talked about the sunrises and the sunsets, and about the crazy customers, and the way the store rattled when it stormed. Rush could tell she truly loved it. So when her words tapered off and her face fell, he could feel the pain rolling off her, and he knew something bad was coming. She paused, her hand holding his hard enough to hurt.

  Then she blew out a breath and said, “It burned.”

  “It burned?” he repeated.

  “To the ground.”

  “Suspicious circumstances?”

  “Arson, for sure. But they said it was probably accidental. Some drunk kids who got carried away.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I need a second.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then dropped her eyes to her hands and shifted a little closer, seemingly unaware of the movement. Rush immediately pulled her in, enfolding her into an embrace and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. Her skin was cool now—much cooler than when their bodies had been pressed together—and when Alessandra shivered, Rush realized the temperature had dropped several degrees. He held her even closer, trying to stave off the chill while still giving her the mental space she needed.

  After a few moments, she spoke softly, her voice a little muffled by the fact that her face was buried in his shirt. “It’s kind of catching up to me, and it feels like it’s my fault.”

  “It’s not,” he said quickly.

  “I think I did things the right way. Or I hope I did. But it didn’t help, did it?”

  “You can’t hold yourself responsible for the bad actions of others, Red.”

  Her fingers plucked at the fabric of his jeans. “I know. Or I’m currently telling myself I know, anyway. But it’s hard not to wonder what would’ve happened if I’d just held on to the note instead of taking it in, and—”

  She cut herself off, and it took Rush a second to realize that she was crying. He slid his hands from her arms to her head, and he smoothed back her hair. It was strange, to feel so much concern for a woman he barely knew. Stranger still, to be holding her close and murmuring reassuring words that he truly meant. And strangest of all to find himself opening his mouth to tell her his own secrets.

  In fact, he was sure he would’ve spilled them all if it weren’t for the sudden rumble in the sky and the splash of an oversize raindrop hitting Alessandra straight in the nose. Rush brought up his thumb to swipe it away, then kissed the same spot.

  “Should we head back to the cabin?” he asked as he pulled back.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” she replied.

  “Harley said so.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Of course. He’s like a brother to me. Hell. He is my brother as far as I’m concerned. He wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Rush realized something. The impending storm didn’t make a difference. He wanted to tell Alessandra everything anyway. He stared down at her for a second, trying to figure out what it was about her. But damn if he could. It was more than the way her blue eyes seemed to see into him. More than the physical attraction that coursed through him, and more than the very recent memory of her warm lips. Whatever it was, he had a strange feeling it was only going to get stronger.

  “C’mon. I’ll explain it when we’re warm and dry,” he said, then pushed to his feet, pulling her with him, marveling again at just how right her hand felt pressed into his palm.

  * * *

  By the time they reached the top of the cabin’s stairs, the rain was coming down full force. But in spite of that—and in spite of the heaviness that had been in her chest just moments earlier—Alessandra was warm all over. She was even smiling. It felt good to trust Rush. It felt right. Which really made her realize that over the last two weeks, she’d been walking around with a deep worry permeating every corner of her existence. Understandable. Justifiable. And while coming to Whispering Woods had been her attempt to deal with it all, it was the kind of thing that could benefit from a professional. And if that professional happened to have soft lips, a tough-but-tender demeanor, and the world’s sexiest sleeve of tattoos...then so be it.

  Alessandra warmed even more and told herself the reason she trusted him wasn’t just that he was nice to look at. It didn’t hurt. But her faith in him was based on her instincts, on evidence, and on the fact that he was on the right side of the law.

  Although...

  She eyed Rush’s back as he stepped to the cabin door and put his hand on the knob. He hadn’t actually admitted that he was a cop, but she knew it was true anyway. The clues were there. And Harley’s comment about “the case” kind of slammed the theory into place.

  Alessandra stopped and frowned, and Rush turned to look at her.

  “You coming in?” he asked teasingly. “Or would you prefer to stand out in the rain?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she studied his face, her brain working at something. He was currently smiling, but she knew the gruffness was under the surfa
ce, ready to be called at will. In fact, she’d truly believed that gruffness was the real him. And even though she’d wanted to trust him, she’d bought into the idea the he was a thug.

  Because he’s good at it, she thought. Utterly convincing.

  “Red?” he prodded, the smile slipping a little.

  “You let me figure it out,” she blurted.

  His smile came back, widening to a Cheshire cat grin. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “That doesn’t sound like the work of a good undercover cop.”

  “But you did do it,” she insisted. “You let me hear that conversation with your friend.”

  “Why would I do that?” His tone was far too innocent.

  Alessandra rolled her eyes. “Because you couldn’t tell me the truth without breaking some law or rule or code and you needed a way around it.”

  “Well. At least that’d make me pretty clever.”

  “Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

  Whatever he was about to say was swept away by a sudden gust of wind that blew the door back and seemed to make the entire structure rattle. The rain kicked it up a notch, too, flying sideways in stinging drops. Clearly deciding enough was enough, Rush reached out, grabbed Alessandra by the wrist and yanked her into the cabin. Inside, he released her to pull the protesting door shut. Then he turned to face her, and as he kicked off his boots, Alessandra’s breath caught in her throat.

  In the warm firelight, Rush was the epitome of handsome ruggedness. His salt-and-pepper beard was just the right thickness—scruffy without being unkempt. The rain had dampened his hair and the wind had mussed it up just right, and it practically begged to have fingers run through it. His clothes were wet, too. The plaid jacket was open, revealing his long-sleeved shirt, which clung to his sculpted chest in a way that made Alessandra’s knees weak. And his jeans were no drier or any less clingy. The denim was darkened with rain, and it hugged his thighs and showed off his thick, all-muscle quads. He looked strong and capable. Indestructible and sexy.

  Yeah, she thought. Like a lumberjack who moonlights as an underwear model.

  Alessandra’s cheeks heated, and she forced her eyes up to Rush’s face. It did nothing to quell the rush of her pulse. His stare was on her body as much as hers had been on his. His gaze moved over her slowly. Deliberately. It rested on her curves. She could feel the way he drank in her soaked body, and every inch of exposed skin rose up in tingling goose bumps. When at last his eyes found hers, they sent a thrum of need through her, so hard that it made her gasp.

  She couldn’t have said who made the first move. Or maybe it was neither of them; maybe they stepped at the same time. Either way, they went from undressing each other with their eyes to tearing at each other’s clothes for real. Lips and arms. Ripping cotton, laughter, breathy apologies. Rush’s jacket and weapon tossed aside. Shirts up and off. More lips. Moans and gasped endearments.

  At last, Rush’s hands found Alessandra’s hips, and he lifted her from the ground. For a second, she stared down at him, basking in the rampant desire on his face. Reveling in the way they fit together, even like this. But when she bent to kiss his perfectly firm, perfectly delectable lips, a terrible thought occurred to her. And she couldn’t help but voice it aloud.

  “Rush?” she said against his mouth.

  “Alessandra.”

  “Are you sure Jesse can’t see us?”

  He pulled back, his mouth twisting with amusement. “Should I comment on how much I don’t love that you’re talking about another man right now, or just leave that alone?”

  She blushed. “Sorry, I’d just prefer it if he didn’t see me naked.”

  The heat in Rush’s eyes became an inferno. “I’d prefer that, too.”

  “So you’re sure?”

  “What can I do to prove it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How about this?”

  He punctuated the question with movement, carrying her over to the bed on the other side of the room. There, he laid her down. He kissed her once, hard and sweet at the same time. Then he let her go, stepped back, and brought his hands to his waistband. Alessandra couldn’t do anything but sit up and watch.

  The belt slid out.

  The metal button popped free.

  The zipper slid down.

  The jeans lowered.

  And with each new thing, Alessandra’s breathing quickened a little more. Her worries about being seen by some invisible camera were seeming less and less important. By the time Rush had shimmied free, Jesse Garibaldi was ridiculously far from her thoughts. The man standing in front of her commanded her complete attention. From his broad shoulders to his well-muscled chest. From his beautiful abs to the sexy vee that was just visible above the waistband of his boxer shorts. Every bit of him begged to be stared at. So she did stare. So hard that it startled her when he spoke.

  “Convinced yet?” he asked, his voice low and thick.

  “Convinced?” It took her second to recall what he meant. “Oh. Um.”

  She sucked in her lower lip, considering the question. On the one hand, she was sure that Rush wouldn’t be standing around in his underwear if he thought there was a chance they were being watched. But on the other hand, if she admitted as much, he might not feel compelled to the remove the boxers. And she really, really wanted to see him finish the striptease.

  Her eyes started to drift back to the underwear—and what was underneath them—and she jerked her attention back to Rush’s face. He wore a sly half smile that made Alessandra sure he knew where her mind had headed. She refused to give in to the embarrassment.

  “No,” she said firmly. “I’m not convinced. At all.”

  “Okay. How about this instead?” He paused, looked around, then yelled, “Hey! Garibaldi! You self-serving son of a you-know-what... Wanna hear my badge number?”

  Alessandra laughed. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “Care to share what you were thinking?”

  “How about you come here and I’ll show you?”

  “Twist my rubber arm.”

  Rush stepped closer. Then closer again. Then again. He finally stopped and pressed his knees to hers. He lifted a salacious eyebrow, then used his legs to part her thighs. And stepped closer still.

  Alessandra’s face was at eye level with his stomach, and her heart was racing so hard it almost hurt. She leaned forward and placed a small, soft kiss just below his belly button. Rush inhaled sharply. The sound made Alessandra ache all the way down to her toes. She kissed his abdomen again, brought her hands to his cotton-covered hips, then leaned back and dragged him down on top of her.

  His mouth sought hers, and his hands began an exploration of her body. She met the attention eagerly, arching into his hand as it dragged across her ribs, then over the lacy fabric of her bra. Her skin was on fire. And her mind raced with mixed needs. She wanted him to continue slowly, to make it all last. But she also wanted to hurry up, because she craved skin-to-skin contact. But she didn’t have to worry. Rush’s timing was impeccable. He touched her thoroughly. He removed the rest of her clothes quickly. But just when she thought the torment was over, he angled his body so that he was beside her instead of on her, and propped himself up on his elbow and sent her an ultraserious look.

  “I’ve never been the kind of man who plays it safe, Red,” he said. “But with something like this...with someone like you...”

  His words hit her like a brick to the gut. A dozen “unsafe” scenarios played through her head, and each made her as unhappy as the last. And for no good reason, all of them made her want to cry.

  Rush stared at her, concern filling his face as he read her expression. “Crap. No. Not like that, Red. I meant that I have a habit of putting action before everything else. Measurable results. But I’ve literally known you for hours, and I don’t wan
t you to think I’m just...or that this is...” He trailed off, scrubbed his free hand over his beard, then muttered, “I’m screwing this up.”

  Alessandra smiled a watery smile. “If it makes you feel any better... I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “I’d argue against that.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant I don’t usually hop into bed with a man whose middle name I don’t know.”

  “Yeah. Me, neither.”

  “Shut up. You know what I’m saying.”

  “I do. So in the interest of confession, I feel like I should tell you that it’s been two years since I kissed a woman. In the past six years, I haven’t had a relationship that wasn’t a part of an undercover operation.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know what the right reaction is,” she told him. “Sorry?”

  He chuckled, then leaned over to kiss her mouth. “It’s easy. You confess that all of your relationships over the last six years were also fake, and that you’ve been waiting for me to come into your life, chase you into a hole in the woods, then sweep you off your feet and make you forget about everything else that’s been going on. Oh. Then you tell me that you’ve got a condom in your purse, because I seem to be fresh out.”

  Alessandra couldn’t help but laugh, and she traced her fingers down Rush’s bare chest as she replied, “All of my relationships over the past six years haven’t been fake. But they have been nonexistent. A few casual dates, and I did have a two-month fling with a surfer who came to Seattle for the summer a few years back. And if you want to go back seven years instead, I had a boyfriend through college. We were both in business admin, but I chose the more entrepreneurial route, and he went after some corporate job in New York, so we amicably went our separate ways.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “It is?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I’m glad to hear that you’re not otherwise attached. And equally glad to hear I’ve got the corner on the feet-sweeping.” He reached up and grabbed her fingers, then kissed the tips.