Charmed and Dangerous

by Lori Wilde

  “Hi.” The girl grinned at him. Six years old and already an incorrigible flirt.

  “Hi, yourself.” He grinned back. His smile was so genuine, Maddie forgot she was mad at him.

  “I’m Katy.”

  David winked at her and she giggled coyly. “Nice to meet you, Katy. I’m David and this is Maddie.”

  “Sit back down,” her older sister hissed. “And leave those people alone.”

  “That’s Rebecca,” Katy said with a dismissive flip of her hand. “She’s my sister. She’s bor-r-ring.”

  Maddie felt a special kinship with Rebecca. She knew what the girl went through trying to corral her ebullient sibling.

  “You know what Mom said about talking to strangers.” Rebecca tugged on her sister’s sleeve. “Turn around.”

  “They’re not strange, Becca.”

  “We don’t know them, that makes them strangers.” Rebecca was trying to keep her voice low, but her perky sister was having none of the subterfuge.

  “We don’t know the airplane lady either and you talked to her.”

  “She works for the airline. It’s okay if you talk to her.”

  “But they’re very nice, Becca,” Katy coaxed. “Look at ’em.”

  Rebecca peeked around the seat. She arrowed David and Maddie a suspicious glance. “Sorry about her,” she apologized. “This is her first time traveling without our mom.”

  “I like how your hair sticks up,” Katy said boldly to David. She tugged at her own hair, trying to make it spike like his.

  “Sit down,” Rebecca repeated. “Or I’m gonna tell Dad on you when we get to Paris.”

  Katy wrinkled her nose. “Do you think that stupid Trixie will be there?”

  “Probably, she’s his girlfriend now.”

  Katy blew a raspberry.

  “Come on, sit down,” Rebecca begged.

  “You’re not the boss of me.” Katy tossed her head.

  Gosh, Maddie thought, if she had a dollar for every time she’d heard that line she’d own Bill Gates.

  David leaned forward and spoke softly to the little girl. “The plane’s about to take off, Katy, and you don’t want to get thrown out of your seat. I’d hate to see you skin your knee. Why don’t you sit down and put on the seat belt until we’re airborne?”

  “Okay,” Katy said easily, turned around and plunked down. Rebecca shot him a grateful glance.

  David looked over at Maddie. He was still grinning. She realized she had never seen him looking relaxed.

  “Cute kid,” he said.

  “You’re good with her.”

  “She likes male attention. Sounds like she doesn’t get enough of daddy’s time.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Maddie muttered and it came out harsher than she intended.

  “Strike a nerve?”

  She shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell him about her daddy issues. It was none of his damned business.

  David let it go and nodded at the back of the girls’ seats. “I’m guessing their names could just have easily been Maddie and Cassie.”

  “They’re not twins.”

  “You two don’t act like twins anyway.”

  “I know. Cassie is fun and sexy and charming and I’m stodgy and anxious and overly cautious.”

  “I never said that.”

  “I’m sure, like everyone else, you prefer her company to mine.” Maddie knew she sounded like she was feeling sorry for herself, and maybe she was a little. Her life had been spent not only in her sister’s shadow but being there to catch Cassie when her escapades went awry. Just once, she would like to have her own limelight, her own adventures.

  “No,” David said. “I don’t think that. I think Cassie is flighty and irresponsible and self-centered.”

  “Hey, no bad-mouthing my twin. She’s not self- centered. She just doesn’t stop and think how her actions affect others.”

  “Isn’t that what it means to be self-centered?”

  “You don’t understand her.”

  “So help me to understand.”

  Maddie told him then, about Cassie’s accident and how it had shaped both of their lives. She told him about her vow to God.

  “Cassie was in a coma for three months and in a rehab hospital for six months after that. She had to learn how to walk all over again.”

  “The accident on the pond wasn’t your fault,” he said.

  “Yes it was. My mother told me to watch her.”

  “How come your mother always put you in charge? How come she wasn’t the one watching Cassie?”

  Maddie shrugged. “Mama is as scatterbrained as my sister. They’re two peas in a pod. They’re so caught up in having fun and being creative they forget about the mundane but essential things in life.”

  “Like?”

  “For instance, Mom was famous for her odd-ball breakfasts, especially after Dad left. Cold pizza. A can of beans. Whatever was in the cupboard. If we were lucky, she would throw eggs in a plastic bowl, nuke them and call them scrambled. Of course, they exploded and guess who had to clean egg gunk off the inside of the microwave.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Could have been worse. At least she took the eggs out of the shells first.”

  “I can just see an industrious young Maddie scrubbing off egg plaster. I bet you wore rubber gloves and an apron.”

  “How did you know?”

  “It fits.” He smiled and she felt herself relenting toward him. Okay the guy could be a hard-ass, but sometimes he made her feel really special in a way no one else ever had.

  “See. Boring even when I was ten.”

  “Not boring. Tough. You said your Dad left. What caused your parents to split up?”

  “Cassie’s illness ripped them apart. I love my Dad but he’s something of a good-time Charlie. When the going got tough, Dad got going. Don’t get me wrong. He stayed in our lives. We saw him every other weekend and a month in the summer but he couldn’t handle serious stuff. He’s still that way at fifty. I don’t think he’s ever going to grow up.”

  “You kept everyone grounded.”

  “Somebody had to.”

  “You’re pretty amazing, Maddie Cooper. You know that?”

  His words warmed her to the very back of her heart and she felt her throat tighten. She glanced out the window into the darkness so he couldn’t see the mist of a tear in her eye. It had been a rough day and she was feeling a little emotional.

  “Know what else I like about you?” he whispered.

  “What?” She smiled faintly. Her cheeks tingled. God, she was actually blushing.

  “You’re strong and smart and thoughtful. You can be a little hardheaded at times, but so can I. You have a really sly sense of humor that slaps my funny bone. You’re honest, trustworthy and dependable.”

  “You make me sound like a Boy Scout.”

  “Believe me, babe,” he drawled and raked an appreciative gaze over her body. “There’s nothing boyish about you.”

  Babe. He’d called her babe. She went all whooshy inside. Don’t smile for gosh sakes, Maddie. He’ll think you like his flattery.

  Trouble was, she did like it. A lot.

  “Are you flirting with me, Agent Marshall?” She slanted him a coy glance that was pure Cassie.

  Their gazes locked. Wow-o-wow-o-wow. The heat from his intelligent dark gray eyes toasted her from the inside out. She stared into him, he stared right back.

  Everything faded from her mind. Cassie, Shriver, the stolen art. Her past, their future.

  Nothing mattered except the breathtaking electricity of the moment. The emotion on his face was intense and knocked her off balance. She saw so many things reflected in those eyes. Desire, confusion, curiosity.

  David took her hand.

  She wanted to draw back. She should have drawn back, but she was so tired and his hand felt so good that she just sat there, staring at his fingers. He had very nice fingers. Long and strong and comforting.

  Watch out! You know be
tter than to trust him. He’s a cop and your sister is a suspect.

  He angled his head toward her. “Would you be upset if I was flirting with you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s not professional of me.”

  “No.”

  He leaned closer. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Not at all,” she murmured, moving in his direction.

  “We really can’t depend on this attraction,” he said, inching his mouth ever closer to hers.

  “Absolutely not,” she agreed, her gaze trained on his lips.

  “The timing, the situation, it’s all wrong.” He was barely whispering.

  “Couldn’t be worse.” She shifted her gaze from his lips to his eyes and her heart almost jumped right out of her chest.

  “How’s your headache?” he asked, reaching over to gingerly rub the spot where the coconut had struck.

  What was the protocol in a situation like this? Her dating skills were rusty. Not that this was dating, but it most certainly was a sexual attraction man-woman thing.

  His fingers, firm but gentle, probed the tender area. She inhaled his warm masculine scent. Using the pad of his thumb, he massaged her temple in a circular motion with light, steady pressure. It felt so good she almost moaned out loud.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “Just relax.”

  Yeah, right. How was she supposed to relax when her head was practically nestled on his shoulder and those devastating lips were oh so close?

  “That’s right, Maddie, let go.”

  And the next thing she knew, they were kissing.

  She couldn’t say who made the first move. Maybe it was him, maybe it was her. Bottom line? It didn’t matter. They were swept away like flotsam on the sea.

  Closing her eyes, she savored the warmth of his mouth, oblivious to their surroundings. Her head reeled from the intoxicating power. His kiss was a thousand times more wonderful than the fantasies she’d been spinning.

  He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough, drinking her in, teasing her with his tongue. He used just the right amount of pressure. The kiss wasn’t too demanding, nor was it too plain. Not too wet, but moist and hot and perfect.

  Then again, what else would she have expected from a man with such raw animal magnetism. She’d bet her last dollar that sex with him would be phenomenal.

  The pilot turned off the seat belt sign, the faint dinging hardly registering in the back of her mind. She didn’t notice that some passengers were moving up and down the aisles, that the flight attendants were serving drinks. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he threaded his fingers through her hair.

  They were welded together, singed by the kiss to beat all kisses.

  And if it hadn’t been for little Katy popping her head over the top of her seat to giggle at them, Maddie feared they would not have stopped kissing until they reached Paris.

  Chapter

  EIGHT

  DAVID NEEDED JAVA. Pronto. A double espresso would be ideal but any variety of caffeine would do the trick. Something strong to wire his system, kick his butt into high gear and buzz his brain so fast he would forget all about the taste of Maddie’s lips.

  Before they’d left Grand Cayman for Miami, he had contacted Henri Gault, his counterpart at Interpol and asked him to put a surveillance team on Shriver and Cassie when they arrived in Paris. He was itching to get his feet on the ground and his head back into the investigation.

  Henri, a reedy man with a thick head of dark hair, an oblong face and sad-sack eyes met them at the arrival gate.

  “Why don’t you go on through customs?” David nodded at the checkpoint.

  He wanted Maddie out of earshot so he could discuss the case privately with Henri. He also hoped to minimize the risk of her spilling his secret. He didn’t want anyone else knowing he’d recruited Cassie. As far as Henri knew, Cassie was simply Shriver’s doxy, not an unofficial FBI informant turned art thief accomplice.

  “You’re not coming through customs with me?” Maddie asked.

  He pulled his badge from his pocket. “I get to circumvent.”

  “Can’t you circumvent me?”

  “Nope,” he said at the same time Henri said, “Oui.”

  Henri looked at David and he shook his head.

  Maddie narrowed her eyes. “This is retribution for me swiping your badge back in Dallas, isn’t it?”

  “Payback’s a bitch.” He wiggled his fingers. “Bye, bye.”

  She glared, shouldered her bag and headed for the long customs line.

  Henri glanced from David to Maddie and smirked. David knew what the Frenchman was thinking. “She’s not my mistress.”

  “Then she’s fair game, non?” Henri wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “No. Stay away from her if you prize your neck.”

  “Ooh-la-la.” Henri laughed. “It must be amour.”

  “No it’s not,” he denied hotly. “She’s Cassie Cooper’s sister.”

  “And you let her come along with you?”

  “It was either that or have her running around on her own getting into trouble. This way I can keep her under my thumb.”

  “As long as your thumb is the only thing you keep her under.”

  “Shut up.”

  Henri laughed and escorted him around customs. On the other side of the barricade crowds of travelers streamed past them. They moved to one side of the walkway, waiting for Maddie to clear the inspection.

  “So what’s the scoop on Shriver?” David asked, resting his shoulder against the wall.

  “We followed him from the airport. He’s staying at the Hotel de Louvre.”

  “Pricey digs.”

  “Shriver is poetic, not subtle.”

  “And Cassie Cooper?”

  “She’s not with him.”

  “Huh?” David squared his posture. “What do you mean she’s not with him?”

  “He was alone, mon ami.” Henri shrugged. “Cassie Cooper went to Madrid.”

  David ran a hand over his jaw. It was scratchy with beard stubble. He hadn’t shaved in two days. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Do we have anyone tracking her?”

  Henri nodded. “Yes, we have a man on it.”

  “Good work.” David took a deep breath and relaxed. This was an encouraging sign. Cassie’s absence in Paris meant she probably was just Shriver’s girlfriend and not his partner-in-crime as David had feared.

  That tidbit of information should make Maddie happy.

  And then a thought occurred to him. What if he could find a way to take advantage of this identical twin stuff? He had mistaken Maddie for Cassie on the jogging path. Under the right circumstances, Shriver might easily make the same mistake. Maybe David could find a way to use Maddie to entrap the art thief. Instinctively, he knew she would never go for it. The minute Maddie found out Cassie was in Madrid, she would hop the next plane to Spain and to hell with him.

  You just can’t tell her yet, the pitchfork-toting devil on his left shoulder announced.

  David, chided the halo-sporting angel on his right shoulder. You can’t do that to Maddie. She’s placed her trust in you.

  Trust, schmust. You wanna catch Shriver, don’tcha? Ignore goody-two-shoes and keep your trap shut, the devil urged.

  Angel be damned. The devil made a lot more sense.

  “Do me a favor, Henri, and don’t tell Maddie her sister went to Madrid.”

  “Ah, I understand. You’re trying to protect her.”

  “Uh . . . yeah . . . sure. That’s it.”

  “Whatever you want,” Henri murmured. “So we’re assuming Shriver came to Paris to make amends with Jerome Levy. I’ve got a team on both Shriver and Levy by the way.”

  At the mention of Levy’s name, David grit his teeth. For years he’d suspected Levy was the one who’d brokered the theft of Aunt Caroline’s Rembrandt, but he’d never been able to prove it. He would love to bust Levy almost as much as he wou
ld enjoy busting Shriver.

  “How else is Shriver going to unload the Cézanne if not through his old pal Levy? I cut off his connection with Philpot. There aren’t too many brokers willing to fence a painting that hot.”

  “Shriver is taking a big chance showing up here,” Henri continued. “He knows we’re watching him. Why not lie low, sell the painting later?”

  “I’m breathing down his neck hot and heavy, making things pretty uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to get caught with the Cézanne in his possession. Circumstances are forcing him to take chances he wouldn’t ordinarily take.”

  “Or maybe,” Henri mused, “he’s fallen in love with Cassie Cooper and this was his last big score before giving up a life of crime for his lady love.”

  “You French with the romance. Is that all you think about?” David snorted.

  “One day, mon ami, love will hit you too,” Henri predicted slyly.

  “Hit who with what?” Maddie asked, arriving on the tail end of their conversation.

  “Nothing,” David lied, but he couldn’t deny the intense awareness that smacked him in the gut whenever he looked into her eyes.

  It’s just lust. Nothing else, he told himself.

  “I know what you’re up to, Marshall,” she said.

  “I’m not up to anything.” For one strange moment David had thought she was talking about the sexual fantasies wreaking havoc with his imagination.

  “What have you been saying behind my back?” Maddie poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I know that’s why you made me go through customs. You’re hiding something from me about Cassie. What is it?”

  The woman loved busting his chops. And the bizarre thing was, he respected her for it. Most people didn’t have the courage to call him on the carpet. They bought into his bluster and let him have his way.

  But that insistent index finger tapping his chest and the determined expression on her face stopped him in his tracks.

  And damn if Henri wasn’t snickering.

  “The truth,” Maddie demanded.

  How in the hell did she know he was lying? Her perceptiveness knocked him off balance.

  Turn the tables on her. Quick. Anything to wrestle back control and keep from feeling guilty.

  “I’m offended,” he said.