Hot in the City

by Samantha Hunter

  Until they were satisfied that she was clean, he would review audio and video of everything she did, every aspect of her personal life, and with whom she did it. Especially with whom. They’d have to get some mobile surveillance on her as well, know where she went and who she saw.

  It was legal—he had authorization—but it made Gabe feel dirty. And undeserving, he supposed, of spending time with someone like Della. What would she think if she knew?

  He shook his head in disgust; he was getting soft. He never would have thought this way before.

  Before what? Before deceiving too many people, losing too many friends and spending too many lonely nights thinking about it? Before he let himself love someone, thinking there was a future in it, only to find out differently? Before he let someone count more than the job, and it cost him his life? Or theirs?

  He couldn’t deny it; since Janet had died, he’d started having doubts. He told himself it was grief, or a broken heart, but those things passed.

  His doubts remained.

  Maybe Della was a mistake for a whole different set of reasons. He had to focus on his work, and she was a distraction. A sexy distraction, but one he couldn’t afford. He’d often wondered on sleepless nights, if doubts about him, or about her choices, had been what distracted Janet. If they had created enough of a crack that she missed the shooter who hadn’t missed her. Had she thought of him in the end?

  He shook his head as if trying to ward off the bad memories. He walked to the door, intending to leave as he saw a guy on a bike race to a stop in front. The man hopped off of the bike and then came through the door. He looked right at Gabe.

  “This is for you.”

  The guy handed him a small white box, wrapped with a black bow.

  “Who sent it?”

  Gabe was hardwired against receiving any mysterious packages, and automatically backed up as he assessed the situation around him.

  “A really hot redhead,” the kid said with a large grin. “Lucky you.”

  Gabe released a breath, the tension easing from his shoulders as he took the box and tipped the delivery guy, who sped off, leaving him standing there in the doorway to the bar, staring at the box.

  Even knowing it was probably from Della, and all was probably fine, he had to fight every instinct in his mind to actually pull the ribbon and open the box. This didn’t seem like something the woman he’d met would do—she wasn’t the type.

  His eyes widened as he lifted a sheer stocking from the box. Attached to the stocking was a piece of paper.

  “What the...?”

  Detaching the paper, he put the stocking back in the box and studied the numbers on the sheet of paper. It was definitely Della’s handwriting. He recognized it from all of the papers he’d gone through in her computer bag.

  He took a seat at the bar, studying the sheet.

  What was she up to?

  After a minute or two, he saw the start of the pattern, discerning the code. His heartbeat sped up a little—Della was luring him to her with a system of clues.

  Or was it some kind of trap?

  Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he worked out the clues in a matter of minutes. The numbers were a subway line, an address and a time signature—he should be at the location indicated by eight.

  That gave him about a half hour to make it all the way uptown. Apparently, this train would get him there on time.

  Booking it to the closest subway platform, he boarded the train, which he had nearly missed.

  What was Della up to? Where was she leading him?

  Sitting down on an empty bench, he opened the box again and touched the soft material of the stocking, his blood instantly warming.

  The idea of being with Della again was intoxicating, and this game was making it even more so.

  Apparently there was more to Dr. Clark than he’d assumed. If she was trying to draw him in, it was working. Though Gabe still kept his guard up—he couldn’t be sure this was really Della or that there wasn’t something else going on.

  Eventually, he emerged onto the street, and the signs near the subway platform told him he was near the American Museum of Natural History.

  He stood there for a while, looking for another clue and checking his watch. Eight on the dot, but no Della in sight.

  Then he saw it—a napkin from the Italian restaurant they’d eaten at the night they met, tacked to the telephone pole at the corner.

  He quickly took it from the pole and saw Della’s script again. She’d written only I’m waiting for you under the stars.

  The stars? It was not quite dark yet, though the stars were peeking out a few places, he noticed, looking up.

  Then his eye caught sight of a sign pointing to the natural history museum, which contained the Hayden Planetarium. Following the signs to the museum, he saw it was closed.

  What was he supposed to do now?

  “Are you Gabe Ross?” someone asked.

  Gabe spun around to find a small, compact woman staring at him—her uniform said she was museum security.

  “I am.”

  “Della told me you were a tall drink of water,” she said with a grin. “Follow me, please.”

  They went in a side door, through a warehouse and then upstairs to the main entry.

  “She’s waiting for you in her favorite spot,” the guard said, pointing to a sign. “Just follow those signs, and you’ll find her. And no rush, I’m here all night,” she said with a wink before turning back the other way.

  Gabe followed her directions, and soon the beautiful astronomy exhibit came into view, a globe in a huge transparent room. He looked around, but didn’t see Della. Then he noticed the door was open to the actual planetarium, and he went inside.

  Slowly. Cautiously. His hand on his sidearm, just in case.

  But then he saw her.

  She was down on the floor by the stage, the only one in the glowing light of the room, stars floating by on the massive screen overhead.

  “Della?”

  He walked down to find her stretched out on the floor on a plaid blanket, staring upward, the bottle of wine and some snacks in a basket by the corner of the blanket.

  Her eyes met his. “Gabe. You came.”

  He lowered himself down to the blanket. “What’s this all about, Della?”

  She sat up, smiling at him.

  Gabe could only stare at how pretty she was, completely distracted as the soft starlight fell over her face and burnished curls.

  “Do you have my stocking?”

  He blinked, then realized she meant the one in the box.

  “Yeah.”

  She took it and unfolded one leg from underneath her, reaching to slide the sheer piece of cloth over her foot and calf.

  Gabe’s mouth went dry as he watched.

  “Della—”

  She put her hand gently on top of his. For all of her seductive play, her expression seemed unsure, her touch tentative.

  “I hoped you’d come, but I wasn’t certain. I wanted to see you again, but I also wanted it to be special. Memorable.”

  Gabe nodded. “You managed that. You’re full of surprises, Della.”

  She grinned. “Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s the sky, what it looked like two million years ago.”

  He looked up. “It’s pretty impressive.”

  Gabe loosened his tie, leaned back on his elbow. He wasn’t as interested in looking at the sky projection as he was looking at Della.

  How was it that she seemed to be more beautiful than the last time he saw her?

  “So do you know any of the stars or constellations?”

  “Not really. I know the basics—Big Dipper, Orion, the stuff you learn in grade school.”

  “Not an astronomy geek?”

  “Nope, just a math geek, which is more than geeky enough, believe me,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes you can know too much, and my father told me that some things should stay magical. I love watching the stars, looking at flowers. I don’t ne
ed to know how they work, or all of the details. They’re just beautiful.”

  He reached for her hand, held it in his, feeling the mood shift, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

  “I can understand that. Knowing too much—about anything—definitely can make you jaded. It’s nice that you want to keep some things sacred.”

  She smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you.”

  “And you are the least geeky person I know—especially in that dress and those heels. Definitely not geeky.”

  Her eyes lowered, lashes brushing her cheek, but he could tell she was pleased.

  His heart stuttered slightly as he watched her lips part, and he knew he was going down a dangerous path.

  “I almost didn’t come tonight,” he blurted.

  Her head shot up and she looked at him in surprise.

  “Why not?”

  “I wasn’t sure if I should. I wasn’t completely honest with you, Della. I do work in logistics, but I also do more. The kind of things I can’t tell you about.”

  Her brow rose slightly, and she nodded, seeming to understand.

  “My job has jaded me, Della. I wasn’t even sure about your clues, the package, the note. I thought it might be some kind of a trick, or a trap,” he said, shaking his head and exhaling a deep breath. “I’m not an easy man, Della. And I tend to think the worst. It comes with the job.”

  “Oh,” she said, her hand coming to her lips as her eyes widened in realization. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t even think how you might see this as suspicious—”

  He put his hand up, stemming her apologies.

  “There was no reason for you to. Normal people wouldn’t see it that way. But my life...it’s how my mind works, I guess. I don’t believe in romance, or magic, or...this,” he said, looking up at the stars. “I can’t afford to.”

  “Why not?” she said, her lips dipping into a small frown.

  “It’s a distraction. You’re a distraction, and that can be dangerous.”

  Gabe hadn’t intended to put everything out on the table like that, but it was incredibly good to be able to say something openly and honestly, and he hadn’t said anything that would compromise his case.

  Della looked at him, dumbstruck. “I’m a distraction?”

  “A big one. It took me a while to stop thinking about last night. But the things I have to do, Della, sometimes... I don’t think you’d want to be with me if you knew.”

  He hadn’t talked to anyone about his work in so long, on a personal level, that he didn’t realize how much he’d needed to. He and Janet had talked, but it was different, since they were partners. When they became intimate, they tried to leave work behind, though it was almost impossible. It was too much a part of who they were.

  To be able to say something he was feeling, even if in a roundabout way, was enormous. It was possible that he would put off Della by admitting so much, but maybe that would be a good thing.

  She was quiet for several beats, and then met his look with a steady one of her own.

  “I may not know about your work specifically, and I understand why you can’t tell me, but I can guess. I know the costs, as well. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, or that you don’t have a right to have a life. Maybe you need those moments of magic more than anyone.”

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t think you really can know—”

  “I do. I do have security clearance—not as high as yours, I imagine, but high enough that I’ve worked with people in your position from time to time, and I see the toll it takes. One analyst I worked with on a project in DC, he killed himself after he made a wrong call on a project. It wasn’t his fault, not really. There were other people who could have caught the mistake, too, but he couldn’t live with it. So, I do know.”

  He was aware she had clearance, and he was aware of the incident she mentioned, but her empathy was probably the most surprising thing to him of all. There wasn’t much of that in his world, not unless you were using it to get something you wanted. Everything in his world was strategic, an angle. Even magic.

  Like a magician on stage, his life was made of illusions and sleight of hand. It was just another thing to use to get what you needed, he thought darkly.

  What did he need from Della? Why was he here? He should stay as far away from her as he could, but he couldn’t quite convince himself of that.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he offered. “It’s terrible. I’ve seen too many people—friends, colleagues—who lost their lives, or ended up coping in self-destructive ways.”

  He took a sip of his wine, looking away. He was going down a road he would rather avoid. What was it about Della?

  “Thanks for sharing with me. I had doubts, too, believe me. I came up with the game idea because I didn’t have the nerve to call you. If you hadn’t shown up tonight, I could have saved some face, I guess.”

  “I wouldn’t have said no, if you had called.”

  “Chloe said I need to take control of my fate, to ask for what I want, go after it. I’ve always been good at that professionally. Not so much on a personal level,” she confessed, taking a deep drink of her wine.

  “Hmm. Why don’t you tell me now? Tell me what you want,” he said, dropping his voice, changing the tone of their conversation to a different kind of intimacy. One he could handle much more easily.

  She started to say something, then stopped. Her expression was intrigued, but reluctant. Shy. Gabe wanted to show her, again, how sexy she was.

  “How much privacy do we have here, Della?” He leaned in to kiss a spot behind her ear that he knew drove her wild. Her breath caught and a tremble that moved through her limbs was his reward.

  “Lock that main door and we’re completely alone for as long as we want to be.”

  It was exactly what Gabe wanted to hear.

  * * *

  DELLA STOOD WATCHING as Gabe jogged up the aisle to close the door and then turned back, slipping off his loosened tie as he returned. She was rooted to the spot, her entire being vibrating in anticipation, desire thrumming through her, wiping out any vestige of exhaustion or tension from the day.

  He threw his tie on the blanket, and his coat, too. Then he rejoined her, sliding his hand up into her hair, cradling her head gently as his eyes moved over her face.

  “What do you want, Della?” he repeated.

  Everything, she thought. Her imagination was wading into perilous waters, the ones that existed far past “just sex.” She had no business there.

  “Kiss me.”

  He pulled her into his arms, kissing her like his life depended on it. Her need met his on exactly the same level, returning his passion with all of her own. As if he had been as hungry for her as she was for him.

  “I want to touch you,” she said against his mouth, finding the second request easier.

  His arms left her, and he started unbuttoning his shirt, but she stopped him.

  “Let me,” she said, planting a soft kiss at the base of his throat as she pushed his fingers away and worked the buttons herself, removing the dress shirt from his shoulders. She loved the masculine look of the white T-shirt he wore underneath. The soft cotton teased the backs of her fingers as she slid her hand up underneath it, making him groan and his muscles tense.

  She lightly drew her nails down his chest, experimenting, watching his reactions. It was magic, she thought as she noticed the pulse in his throat, to make a man’s heart beat so quickly with only a touch.

  “You make me lose my mind, Della, with one kiss, one touch.”

  Peering up at him from under her lashes she smiled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

  Bolder, she pushed the shirt up over his head and then trailed kisses down his pectorals. Then the tip of her tongue landed along the light trail of hair that led to the band of his trousers. When she unbuttoned them, and let the back of her hand run along his prominent erection as she lowered the zipper, he let out a hissing breath, his han
ds closing into fists.

  “Della,” he gasped as she removed his pants, leaving teasing licks up the length of his strong thigh.

  “Shhh,” she admonished, focused on her goal, enjoying this seduction. “This is what I want.”

  She took him into her mouth, experimenting to find what made him tense or arch closer, clench his hands or groan. He touched her gently, as if needing to keep touching her.

  His breathing deepened, his muscles taut, but Della took her time. She set about discovering what he liked in great detail, memorizing every contour and every response. To her delight, some of her reading and research in such things ended up paying off, driving him nearly over the edge.

  “Della, please, stop,” he begged raggedly, reaching down to pull her up next to him. She met his eyes with a sense of wonder. She had put that look of raw desire and urgent need on his face, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced. She reached up to kiss him full on the lips, unable to stop touching him.

  He accepted the kiss fervently as his hands were busy peeling the dress from her. She helped, starting to kick off her heels as well.

  “No, those stay on,” he said, breaking the kiss as he released her breasts from the scanty bra she wore.

  “Wow,” he said, tracing the edge of the transparent lace.

  “It’s new,” she confessed, watching him caress her. She’d worried earlier if he would like it.

  It was very clear that he approved, and then some, though neither of them was in the mood to admire lingerie.

  She felt sexy and wanton as he stepped back to take a long look at her standing there in her stockings and heels. Her self-consciousness was gone, completely. She knew how much he wanted her, and that knowledge made no room for doubts.

  She turned to find her bag on a nearby seat, and took the protection she’d brought from inside, returning to him, not dropping her gaze from his as she covered him.

  “I want you,” she said, her limbs feeling molten. She liked this business of taking control, asking for what she wanted.

  No more words were needed. He simply brought her up against him, their bodies and mouths meeting in an ecstatic reunion. Della was quivering from head to toe as he slowly lifted her knee to wrap her leg around the back of his.