by Mia Taylor
Teresa stared at him, a look of shock on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she rose suddenly, pulling her skirt down to cover her crotch.
She smiled weakly and shook her disheveled dark hair.
“No, nothing,” she murmured, backing down the step to the landing. She ran her long fingers through her mane again and Luca realized that it was a nervous habit.
“Are you okay?” he asked, slowly rising to pull his pants up.
“Yeah,” she replied quickly, looking around as if she expected there to be an audience. “I just don’t usually do things like that.”
There was a sincerity to her words and Luca grinned at the almost embarrassed expression on her face.
“Me neither,” he replied truthfully. “I guess you just can’t fight attraction sometimes.”
She gazed at him, unspeaking, but he could see a worry in her blue eyes.
“Teresa,” he offered, nearing her. “I don’t really do one-night stands. I’d like to see you again.”
Her eyes seemed to darken and brighten simultaneously as she nodded.
“Yeah?”
“Tomorrow night?”
She visibly swallowed and nodded.
“That sounds good,” she almost whispered.
Luca brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, turning to pull open the fire door leading back onto the fourth floor, but he couldn’t shake the sense that she regretted what they had just done.
You’re letting your suspicion of all women cloud your judgment, he told himself. She’s a good girl who’s overwhelmed with everything that’s happened over the past couple days. Don’t suffocate her.
She paused at the door to her apartment and turned to look at him, the look of confusion gone.
“Tomorrow, then?” she asked, leaning against the door, her arms against her back.
He offered her a smile and leaned forward to kiss her mouth softly.
“Arrivederci, bella.”
“Thank you for dinner and… everything.”
Luca felt a frisson of pleasure.
“Prego. I enjoyed myself too.”
She nodded and unlocked the door to the unit and Luca waited until she was safely inside before turning to saunter off down the hallway.
Heat still filled his body but Luca knew it had nothing to do with the Miami night and everything to do with Teresa Milano.
Chapter Eight
Playing Both Sides
Her dark sunglasses blocked the light blindingly bouncing off the channel as Angela waited nervously for Duggan to show.
It had been a week and a half since she had stormed into his office and since then, it had been virtually dead air from the FBI.
The previous night, she had returned home from a date with Luca and found a note slipped under her door.
“What’s that?” he asked as she read it, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest.
“The super,” she replied quickly, flashing him the note. “He’s coming to fix the leak in the toilet tomorrow.”
And that was what the note read, but Angela knew it was Duggan who had sent it and not the building manager.
As soon as Luca had passed out, she pulled out the burner phone for more complete instructions.
Margaret Pace Park. p.m., the text read. She didn’t know
what to make of this new correspondence. A part of her had almost forgotten that she was an agent for the FBI. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Duggan’s face and lying to him about her relationship with Luca.
How did this even happen? How did I let myself get here?
Angela stifled a sigh and glanced at Teresa’s cell phone.
It was ten after two already and each second she spent sitting on the bench waiting for Duggan was only adding to her intense anxiety.
“You haven’t been checking in.”
She jumped and gasped, spinning her head to look at Duggan. Her mouth parted in surprise.
“There’s nothing to check in for,” she replied quickly, stilling her rapidly beating heart. “I don’t know anything yet. And you haven’t been checking in either.”
The best defense is a good offense, she thought grimly.
“Are you in with the Menottis?”
The question filled her with a renewed sense of dread.
Luca is in me, sometimes three times a night, she wanted to say, but she didn’t need to be told she shouldn’t say that out loud.
“Kind of.”
“Kind of? What does that mean? You’ve been undercover a week. Either you are or you aren’t.”
He glared at her warily.
“Hey!” she snapped, not appreciating his tone. “You’re the one who told me this could take time. What’s with the about-face?”
Instantly, the agent’s intense expression relaxed and he gave her a quick smile.
“You’re right. I’m just on edge. I wish you would do your nightly check-ins.”
“Why should I have to?” she asked, the venom she had been holding onto growing as she spoke. “I thought you had eyes and ears on me at all times.”
The lie was obvious now and not just because she had thoroughly searched her apartment. There was no way that Duggan didn’t know what was happening between her and Luca if she was being monitored.
It was as if the FBI agent had just willy-nilly plucked her out of nowhere to throw her inside the Menotti family for reasons that had nothing to do with what he said.
Something strange is going on here but I can’t find out without risking my cover.
Duggan cast her a sidelong look and exhaled deeply.
“We couldn’t risk wiring you so we didn’t,” he said simply and Angela’s eyes almost bugged out of her head.
“What?” she screamed and Duggan’s face went pale.
“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, looking around the park in a panic, but Angela had already leapt to her feet.
“What do you mean you didn’t—”
She stopped yelling abruptly when she realized there were a dozen sets of eyes on her. Slowly, she sank back onto the bench, shifting her gaze downward until the passersby continued on their way.
“You sent me in blind?” she hissed, heat rising through her body. “So, you didn’t even know what happened to me that first night, did you? Not until I came and stormed into your office!”
“I did,” Duggan insisted.
“How?” she spat. “How could you possibly have known what happened to me?”
“Just because I don’t have tech on you doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes on you.”
The words sent a chill through her she tried to understand the implications of what he was saying. Was he suggesting that someone was watching her?
Has he seen Luca and me together? Why do I care if he has? The idea is to get close to him, isn’t it? That was why I was sent in.
But Angela didn’t want Duggan to know just how close she’d gotten to Luca, not yet.
Not until I have something for him, she tried to justify, but she knew it was much more than that. The time she had been spending with the capo was doing something she had not anticipated.
Jumping his bones in the stairwell had not been part of the plan, but in that moment, after the dinner and the attention, she had been unable to stop herself.
At first, she lied and told herself that she had done it for the job, but that didn’t make her feel any better and she soon realized that she didn’t care. Whatever she felt for Luca defied reason, as if her actions were genuinely not her own and belonged to Teresa.
Luca was breaking down whatever guards she had constructed going into the assignment, making her feel something for him despite her better judgment.
It was clear that Luca was protective of her and the idea that he had hurt her cousin was almost impossible to accept.
But what would he do if he found out she
was a cop, that she was using him for information? He is a mobster, after all. His loyalties lie with the family, don’t they?
There were a lot of “what ifs” and speculation dancing through Angela’s mind, but her immediate concern was not Luca Gallo, no matter how much he seemed to consume her thoughts those days.
“I don’t know what the hell that means, but Duggan, you better start explaining. How can you have eyes on me?”
He stared at her, his mouth pulling in at the corners slightly.
“It’s changing you, being under,” he muttered. “You’re not the same girl I met in Keller’s office three weeks ago.”
She glared at him even though the statement filled her with a particular sense of pride. The words were having the reverse effect than he intended.
“I’m a different person, remember? An unprotected patsy who’s set to get herself killed,” she barked back sarcastically.
“You’re not going to get yourself killed if you stick to the script, Angela.”
Teresa, she thought automatically and a strange pang of worry shot through her. It wasn’t the first time she’d started referring to herself by her UC name, even in her own head.
They had warned her about this at Quantico when she’d undergone her training.
“You can’t play a part without taking some of that character’s personality with you. The important thing is that you hold onto your cornerstones and remember who you are,” the instructor had said.
I’m still Ang. I’ll be Ang when I leave here, she thought defensively. But right now, I’m Teresa.
She had become Teresa and not just because it was part of the dangerous game she was playing. Teresa Milano was the woman who Luca wanted. He didn’t know Angela Garnet.
He would hate Angela Garnet in her sweats and owl glasses. The woman he cares for is a fashionista, a debutante from Virginia.
“I’m waiting,” Angela snarled, folding her arms over her chest as she glared at Duggan. “Tell me how you have eyes on me.”
He sighed heavily as if she were asking him to euthanize his dog.
“You are not currently our only undercover working in the family right now,” he told her and she balked.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I have another operative working with the family, someone who is close and can keep an eye on you.”
“What?” Angela gasped. “Who? Who is it?!”
“I can’t tell you that,” Duggan muttered, rising, but Angela grabbed his arm to stop him.
“You can’t tell me? But he can know who I am?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s bullshit!” she snapped. “I made detective in six months after graduating the academy. As a woman. I have a ninety-six percent collar rate and—”
“You don’t need to sell me on your merits, Angela. I read your file.”
“And yet you continue to treat me like every other Denisovan dickhead at the precinct.”
“Angela, don’t be difficult. We knew it was a risk sending you in to begin with and—”
“You keep saying ‘we’ but you seem to be a one-man show here, Duggan.”
His head whipped around and his eyes turned icy as he looked at her.
“What are you implying?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Are you suggesting something improper?”
Angela’s back tensed as she realized she had struck a massive nerve with her handler. A peculiar feeling shot through her as she tried to understand why.
Back off. Upsetting him is not a smart move, no matter how shady you think he is. Obviously, he put you in here because he needs something. Bide your time… if you can.
“Maybe I should have listened to Keller. You can’t handle this,” Duggan snarled. “I should have realized that the first day you were under.”
Apprehension shot through her body and she leapt from the bench.
He can’t pull me out. Not yet.
She wondered if her concern was professional or personal.
It didn’t matter. She had to placate Duggan before he decided to yank her.
“Wait!” she cried, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.
“What?”
“I can handle this,” she insisted. “I’m—I’m just under stress because I’m eager to get something too, you know?”
She stared up at him beseechingly.
“Sorry. You’re right,” she hurried on. “Being Teresa is turning me into someone else.”
A soft, guileless smile touched her lips and she turned her bright cobalt irises on him pleadingly.
She watched as his face relaxed slightly.
“Yeah,” he conceded. “The first one is always the hardest.”
She nodded, bowing her head demurely.
“I’ll have something, I promise. You just need to give me some time. I’m working as diligently as I can.”
Duggan smiled ruefully.
“I guess we’re both on edge,” he relented and Angela’s face exploded into a relieved smile.
“You won’t regret this,” she told him.
“I hope not, Angela.”
Teresa, she thought again but this time, it didn’t cause her any alarm or shame.
Angela realized she had grown to like Teresa, maybe even more than she did her real self.
“Do your check-ins,” Duggan told her. “And get back out there. I know you haven’t been going to any of the places we talked about.”
Angela nodded very slowly, her mind whirling.
No one has seen me with Luca yet. That’s good… I think.
“We’ll be in touch but let me know if you learn anything about Val.”
He walked away, leaving her alone in the park to compose her thoughts.
He’s lying to me. He’s been lying to me from day one, hence the secrecy. Is he really running this alone and if so, why? An operation like this requires a team, especially if there are more undercovers involved.
Angela considered finding out who else was with the FBI, but that was not something she could afford to be nosing around in.
So far, you’ve managed to keep a low profile. You’ve captured Luca’s attention and because of the way we met, he doesn’t suspect anything. If anything, I am ahead of the game right now.
The realization put her mind slightly at ease but it still did not clarify what was going on.
All she knew for sure was that she didn’t know who she could trust.
I just have to keep shaking the tree until something falls out, she decided. And part of shaking that tree is continuing doing what I’m doing with Luca.
As if reading her mind, her phone chimed and she felt a familiar frisson of pleasure jolt through her body as she saw Luca’s name appear on her screen.
Lunch?
She smiled and typed back a response, her heart still fluttering in her chest.
You’re okay, Angela assured herself. You’re just a girl from Virginia who met a boy and is learning about him. It doesn’t matter who’s watching you or what Duggan’s motives are. You are Teresa Milano.
Sure. Just job hunting, she replied, tapping her index finger against the phone as she waited for a response.
Meet me at the Perez in an hour. I may have a job for you.
She stared at the phone in disbelief, blinking.
If he has a job for me, that will get me in with other members of the family. If I can get in with them, I can get more information about Val.
She didn’t hesitate to respond.
Done!
She slipped the cell back into her purse and wiped her sweaty palms along the sides of her white sundress, adjusting her sunglasses against her face.
She had an hour to go make up some fake resumes.
Chapter Nine
Too Close for Comfort
She was already seated in the fashionable dining room when he arrived and Luca had to pause and stare at her before she noticed him standing there.
Instantly,
he felt himself growing aroused at the mere sight of her. He paused to shake his head at the response his body had to seeing her sitting at a table, innocently sipping water, oblivious to him gnawing on his lower lip as he studied her from afar.
Teresa wore a simple, white sundress, her hair falling about her shoulders in an ebony waterfall, and even from the space between them, he could see the vividness of her blue eyes.
He wanted her, right there.
Without acknowledging the maître d’ who watched him, Luca strode toward her, the heat inside him rising with each step.
“Oh, hey—” she started to say but she barely had time to finish her sentence as Luca pulled her up, spinning out of the dining room. She gaped at him in shock, unsure of what he was doing, but he didn’t permit her a word.
“Are you leaving, sir?” the maître d’ asked, his eyes widening in confusion.
“We’ll be back,” Luca assured him, his voice a low growl as he continued out of the restaurant and toward the parking lot.
“Luca, what are you doing?” she giggled nervously but he didn’t respond as they brushed past the valet.
“Sir, should I get your—”
He was already out of earshot, half-dragging Teresa along with him.
“You’re freaking me out,” Teresa called but she didn’t struggle as if she could sense what was coming.
Against his hand, he could feel her palm growing damp and he knew that he was going to find the same slickness somewhere else.
I am learning her so well, he thought, stopping abruptly at his dark red car, spinning her around so her back landed against the driver’s side door.
Her cobalt eyes widened in surprise but Luca could see she had been expecting it.
His hands encircled the creamy skin of her thighs beneath the hem of her mid-thigh dress, fingers squeezing gently.
“I am always shocked at how beautiful you are,” he told her. “All I can think about is taking you.”
Teresa’s smile widened and she cocked her head to the side, studying his face.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” she teased but her hips jutted outward as his palms slid up under her skirt, cupping around her buttocks.
She was wearing a thong and as his fingers made their way between the crack of her cheeks, he felt the flood of heat inching toward him.
