by Donna Hill
“Sorry I had to be so mysterious, but we needed to know you had what it took to do the job.”
Danielle drew in a long breath. “You’ve been watching me all along—and Nick?”
He nodded.
“You befriended him. He likes you. Is that all part of the plan?” She felt her anger begin to rise. It was one thing to screw around with her—she’d invited it by getting involved with the Cartel—but screwing around with Nick was a different story.
“It was in the beginning, but I like Nick. I really like him and he loves you…deeply.” He looked right in her eyes. “And I think right about now he’d be willing to listen to you.”
“Does Claudia know?” she asked as they walked back to the car.
Bernard turned to her and grinned. “Of course. It was her idea.”
Danielle shook her head. This was all too much to process, but when she got it together, she was going to spill it all to the girls.
They reached where Bernard was parked, and she realized he was driving Nick’s car.
“Long story,” he said when he saw the question form on her lips. “Hop in. I’ll take you to your car and explain on the way.”
Chapter 18
Bernard opened the door to his small house and stepped aside to let Danielle pass.
Nick glanced up, then did a double take when he saw Danielle standing there looking a little lost and uncertain.
He got up from the couch but didn’t come toward her.
Bernard cleared his throat. “Uh, I forgot…ice cream.” He backed out of the door and left them alone.
Danielle clasped her hands in front of her.
Silence dragged out between them, then they both spoke at once.
“You first,” Nick conceded, with a nervous laugh.
Danielle took a tentative step toward him.
“I’m so sorry, Nick. I should have told you in the beginning what was going on,” she began. “Claudia is planning a surprise party for Bernard, and she needed to get a list of his friends without him knowing. We figured that during the party would be a perfect time, and I volunteered.” She nearly choked on the lie she and Bernard had concocted in the car with Claudia’s help.
Nick squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He threw his hands up in the air. “What? Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because you can’t keep a secret,” she said with a sly grin.
“I can’t keep a secret?” he asked, sounding mildly offended.
Danielle planted her right hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side, her ponytail swinging in the process. “No. Weren’t you the one who blabbed to Reggie that Gladys liked him, and didn’t you tell Savannah about the present that Blake was getting her when they found out she was pregnant. And the time—”
He held his palms up. “All right, all right, I give up. But—” he shook a finger at her “—I didn’t tell the crew about us.” He came to stand in front of her, his brows knitted tightly. He looked down into her eyes. “I should have listened to you,” he said softly. “I let fear and ego mess with my head instead of listening to my heart and trusting you and my feelings.”
Danielle felt a sick sensation sweep through her stomach as she listened to him confess to his faults, which were built on her lies. It took all she had not to break down and confess the whole twisted story. But she knew she couldn’t, especially now that she had been truly validated as a member, one who was willing to risk everything to be one.
Danielle put a finger to his lips and slowly shook her head. “There was no way for you to know. It was just a colossal case of miscommunication.”
He angled his head to the side and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked, bending down to plant a trail of featherlight kisses along her neck.
Danielle sighed breathlessly. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she relished in his touch. “Why don’t we take up this conversation in the privacy of our home,” she whispered.
“There you go reading my mind…”
The instant the door shut behind them, Danielle and Nick were pulling off clothes, kicking off shoes, grabbing, kissing, stumbling and laughing all the way to the bedroom, where they collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of legs, arms and exploring tongues and hands.
Their hearty laughter slowly ebbed into low moans and deep sighs as the fever that heated their bodies rose by degrees and the playfulness shifted to heighten their sensual pleasures.
Danielle toyed with Nick, teasing him with tiny nibbles and long laps of her tongue along his warm flesh. Her fingers traced the hard outline of his chest, drifting down to his hard stomach to nestle for a moment in the downy soft hair that surrounded his pulsing erection.
“I have some making up to do myself,” she whispered, looking up at him for an instant before she drew his length into her mouth.
A groan from deep in his throat rose up and punctuated the air. He gripped the sheets in his fist and forced himself not to fully bury his need in her throat.
Danielle worked him with long licks of her tongue, sucking him in and out, feeling his erection pulse in her mouth until he was a stroke away from exploding. The sensations grew so intense that he begged her to stop, holding her head in the palms of his hands to keep her from making him lose the last bit of control he had.
“I want you, Dani,” he groaned. “I need to be inside you.”
Slowly she crept up the length of his body, planting tiny kisses along his heated flesh until she was astride him. She taunted the tip of him with slow rotations of her hips allowing him to only barely touch her wet folds.
Then suddenly, Nick turned her onto her back, pinning her beneath him with his weight. He pushed her thighs wide apart with his knees and found his way home.
They made love off and on through the night, sometimes slow and easy and at others with a hunger that couldn’t seem to be filled except with more of the same.
The light from the full moon slid in between the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. A faint breeze gently lifted the curtains from the window.
Dani lay curled against Nick, her arm draped loosely across his chest. Tenderly he stroked her curves and realized how badly he could have screwed up simply because he couldn’t let go of a past that denied him happiness. He wouldn’t listen when she tried to explain. There was a part of him that believed that because of what happened with his father, he didn’t deserve to be happy and if he was happy, it would be taken from him.
To avoid that, he wanted to strike first, and it had nearly cost him the woman he loved.
He held her a bit tighter, listening to the soft cadence of her breathing. Losing Danielle was something he would never risk again. In order to ensure that, he would have to be honest with her and let go of the ghost that haunted him.
“Babe,” he said softly. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Danielle snuggled deeper into the pillow and muttered something unintelligible.
Nick smiled ruefully, kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was another day, he thought as he drifted into a deep, satisfied sleep.
When Danielle awoke the next morning, the space next to her was empty. Slowly she sat up, rubbed her eyes and sniffed the air. Hmm, bacon. Nick was busy in the kitchen doing his thing.
While he was busy, she decided to quickly check her PDA. Now that she and Bernard were on the same side, she could scratch him off her most-wanted list and direct her attention elsewhere.
She retrieved the PDA from her purse and immediately noticed the blinking light, indicating a message was waiting. It was from Bernard. He needed to talk to her right way.
With her eye on the door, she quickly dialed Bernard’s number on her cell phone.
“I have some information, a lead,” he said without preamble. “There’s a couple—Jenna and Anthony Taylor—that have been on our radar for a while, but we can’t prove anything. They’re a little too low on
my totem pole, but I have a gut feeling that they may be at the heart of your assignment. They live in a co-op on East 72nd Street. You need to get close to them.”
“How?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
He disconnected the call.
Danielle sat on the side of the bed with the phone still in her hand. Jenna and Anthony Taylor. The names sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place them.
She didn’t have a shoot today, which was a good thing, but the flip side of that was neither did Nick. Generally on their days off they spent time together just hanging out, going to the movies, going shopping, visiting a new restaurant or, their favorite pastime, checking out new photography equipment. She knew that as soon as they finished breakfast, he was going to ask her what she wanted to do today.
As her thoughts went through a variety of scenarios she could tell him, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Just how long do you plan to make me wait before you tell me what the hell is going on with Bernard?” Savannah snapped into the phone.
Danielle tossed her head back and scrunched up her face. She’d gotten so caught up in the events of the day and night before that she’d totally forgotten to let Savannah know her mother wasn’t in love with Jack the Ripper after all.
“Anna, I am so sorry, girl. Yesterday was crazy, to say the least. But I know I should have called you. First and foremost, everything is fine and that includes Bernard.” She went on to explain all that had happened, up to and including her most recent conversation with Bernard.
“I still can hardly believe it,” Savannah said. “Bernard is with Homeland Security, and it was my mother’s idea all along. I’ll be damned.”
“Yeah, who you telling? I felt the same way. I guess that’s why your mom is so good at what she does for the Cartel.”
“I guess so,” Savannah said in awe. “Now what are you going to do about the couple?”
“That’s what I was trying to work out when you called. But I swear their names sound so familiar.”
“Who did you say they were again?”
“Jenna and Anthony Taylor.”
“Hmm, I wonder if they are the same couple that were clients of Mia’s about a year or so ago. Remember some hotshot couple that had this fabulous party on a yacht?”
“Yeah, right,” she said slowly as the recollection began to take shape. “I wonder if they are the same people.”
“One way to find out.”
They got Mia on the line with three-way calling.
“Sure sounds like them,” Mia said. “Let me check my database to confirm the address. Hang on a sec.”
Several moments later Mia returned to the phone. “It’s them. I can’t believe I was dealing with con artists,” Mia said, more annoyed than alarmed. Her reputation was built on dealing with the crème of the crop. If word of this got out, her business would suffer.
“What are you going to do?” Mia inquired.
“I’m going over there for starters. But first I’ve got to keep Nick occupied.”
“How?”
“I’ll let his new best buddy, Bernard, handle it.”
Chapter 19
Danielle cruised to a stop on the opposite side of the street from 425 East 72nd Street. It was a twenty-story high-rise with rent hovering in the million-dollar category. She took out her camera from her knapsack and adjusted the telephoto lens, hoping she would remember the couple when and if she saw them. But just in case, she planned to take a picture of everyone who came in and out and then run the photos past Mia.
The doorman opened the door for an older couple to exit. Although Danielle was pretty sure they weren’t who she was looking for, she snapped them anyway.
This process went on for about a half hour, when a police cruiser slowed and stopped next to her car. At first she thought they’d stopped for a red light—until both officers got out of the cruiser. One approached her window; the other went to the passenger side.
Oh, Lawd. “Yes, Officer?” she said sweetly. Meanwhile cop number two was peering inside her vehicle.
“License and registration.”
She swallowed hard. In her entire life she’d never been stopped by the police. She’d heard and read the stories of the “mishaps” of innocent drivers being pulled over by police for what they claimed were routine traffic stops. Oh, Lawd. She reached for her purse, took out her wallet and found her license and registration. She handed both to him with a soft smile.
“Step out of the van, please, miss.”
Were they going to arrest her? Would she wind up a cause celebre for the good Reverend Al Sharpton? Or a statistic?
She slowly opened the car door and stepped out.
“We got a report that someone was sitting out here taking pictures,” the officer said.
“Is this your equipment, ma’am?” the second officer asked.
She looked over her shoulder as he extracted her camera bag and camera from the passenger seat. “Yes.”
The first cop was still looking at her paperwork as if he were committing it to memory. Finally he handed it back.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m a fashion photographer. I was simply scouting out locations for possible photo shoots…Officer.”
“You have any proof of that?”
Her mind scrambled, trying to visualize the contents of her wallet. Then she remembered she still had the Michael Preston contract in her purse, which she was supposed to have filed away but for some reason never did. She leaned inside the car, dug around in her oversize purse and pulled out the folded manila envelope. She took out the contract and handed it to him.
“Michael Preston. The designer from that runway show?” he asked, mildly impressed.
“Yes.” She beamed him a smile.
“My wife watches that show all the time.” He looked at her with a new kind of respect. “What’s he like?”
She was about to answer when she saw movement coming from across the street. She wanted to push the cop out of the way to be sure she was seeing correctly. It was that woman from the elevator—the one with the modeling agency.
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, I wish I knew. Every time I’ve gone to his office, I’ve dealt with his assistant.” The woman got into a waiting cab, and it sped away.
“Yeah, I guess he can afford one, right?” He chuckled as if he’d just shared a joke with his best friend. He handed her back the contract. “All right. You can go but I suggest you find another spot. Apparently the neighbors in this area don’t take kindly to being photographed.”
“Thanks, Officer,” she said and wondered if he heard her heavy sigh of relief.
“Have a nice day. And good luck.”
“Thanks.”
The officers returned to their car and pulled off. Her entire body was trembling so badly she barely made it back inside her vehicle. She lowered her head to the steering wheel and drew in several deep breaths. She’d have to find another way, she thought, as she put the car in gear. What was that woman doing there? Was she a tenant? Was she visiting someone? And how much of a coincidence was it that she handled look-alikes and the people Danielle was investigating dealt in stealing identities?
She had the woman’s card, somewhere. Maybe it was time to give her a call and use her Alicia Keys looks to her advantage. She put the car in gear and pulled off.
When she returned home, she was surprised to find Nick sitting in front of the television.
“Hey, I thought you and Bernard were hanging out for the afternoon.” She put her bag on the table in the hallway and walked toward him. But the closer she came, the expression on his face grew clearer and she saw what he held in his hand. Her heart thumped with dread.
He flipped the small compact around his hand.
She came to stand in front of him, and that was when she also noticed her TLC kit sitting at his feet.
“I got back early,” he said. “I wanted to surpris
e you with a romantic dinner.” He turned the compact around in his hand again. “I found this on the floor in the bedroom. Thought I was helping when I went to look for this—” he nodded toward her case at his feet “—to put it back.” He looked up at her stricken face. “You want to tell me what all this is, Dani, ’cause it sure as hell ain’t makeup!”
The few seconds that ticked by felt like an eternity as Danielle tried to figure out how she could possibly explain what he’d found. Her brain grinded to a halt.
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
Her shoulders slumped. She could spend the next hour weaving one lie after another that she could never take back and have to continue building their relationship on lies.
Slowly she sat down next to him. She was about to break every rule she’d sworn to uphold. It may ruin her future with the Cartel, but she wasn’t going to ruin her relationship with Nick.
Danielle turned to him. “I know what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy. And I’m breaking a major trust to say anything.” She drew in a breath as she put her thoughts in order. “If I’m going to trust you with what I’m about to say, then you need to trust me as well and not ask me any questions. Just listen.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief. “I’m a technician, Danielle. I know electronic equipment when I see it. You can no more tell me this is a compact than you can say there’s no racism in America! And you’re going to sit there and tell me that I simply have to trust you and not ask any questions!” He jumped up from the couch and spun toward her. “What…the next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you’re some kind of spy or something?”
“Something like that,” she said, noticing his stunned expression, which quickly turned to outraged laughter. “Danielle, please don’t insult my intelligence.” He began to pace. “Listening devices, burglary tools! Who are you?”
“Nick, please listen to me. That’s all I ask. And when I’m done, if you still don’t believe me…then I’ll accept whatever decision you make. But at least give me a chance.” She paused. “Please.”
