It Happens in Threes

by Denise Robbins

  Ruby extracted her hands from his. “I’m not done yet. Next, I add homemade caramel and hot fudge sauce and top that with another layer of brownie. If you really want to be decadent, serve that with real vanilla ice cream.”

  “Do you always bake when you’re upset?”

  Her face flushed, cheeks flamed. Bad enough Ruby was mortified by her actions with Michael but Nicolas had seen it as well.

  “You spied on me?” she asked, with feigned incredulity. She didn’t want him to know how she felt. “Don’t you think it’s enough you did a background check on me? Was it necessary to spy on me and my date?”

  When Nicolas reached for her, she twisted away, giving him her backside while she rummaged in the refrigerator for whipping cream. She hoped the coolness from the fridge chilled the intensity of her humiliation and her temper.

  “You can quit if you want to.”

  Cream in hand, Ruby shut the door, leaned her head against the cold appliance. Michael had used her. His action stabbed her heart, swift and painful. As memories and tears began to cloud her sight, her vision became clear. She was a secret agent. She would act like one. Her eyes closed, she fought for composure. With all her strength, she battled the scream that welled up inside her and pushed herself away from the handle. She wouldn’t let one little midnight beach rendezvous ruin what she’d worked for, what Michael had worked for. Even now, with Michael on her shit list, Ruby worried about what he’d worked for. She knew she shouldn’t, but she owed him.

  A grin began to tug at the corner of her lips. Oh, how she owed him. She’d show him. He’d involved her. He’d suffer the consequences. Plastering a thin-lipped smile across her face, she glared at Nicolas.

  “I’m not a quitter. I already gave you my word.”

  “I could give up the contract.”

  Nervous, her heart leapt in her chest. She couldn’t let him do that. They’d had a plan. She had a plan. Her face must have given away her emotions.

  “Relax, I don’t need his money,” Nico stated with a wave of his hand.

  His gaze captured hers, she sauntered to him in what she hoped was a seductive manner. Setting the carton on the counter between them, Ruby cupped his face in her hands, the feel of his late night stubble rough against her palms. She purred, “And they said chivalry was dead.” After kissing each cheek, she let her hands drop. Before they could fall to her sides, Nicolas had them in his, pressed against his chest, giving them a squeeze.

  “It’s not chivalry.” His voice was a glass of bourbon, warm and dangerous.

  “Ma cherie, where you are concerned I have every desire to protect you.”

  His lavender eyes never left hers. His emphasis had been on desire. This was her opportunity to put her plan into action, the plan Mickey hated. Sometimes clichés had their place. The old adage of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” fit perfectly.

  Anxious, Ruby smiled and licked her lips. She felt the thrum of his heart beneath her fingertips as it shouted in her ears. It told her she moved in unsafe territory. She needed to tread lightly and not dive in too fast.

  She shoved at his chest, dislodged herself from his grasp. “Nico, I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your business. I appreciate the concern, but I’m a big girl and can take care of anything thrust my way.”

  At least that’s what she told herself when the wooden spoon she’d attempted to pick up fumbled to the floor. On retrieving it, she noticed something else thrust in her face.

  Snatching the spoon, she jumped to her feet, averting her eyes from his. “I think we better stop talking or this dessert will never get made.” Jeez, did her voice sound panicky? “Sit, be quiet, watch.”

  Nicolas obeyed.

  When her ‘Better than Sex Brownies’ were finished, Ruby dished them both up a serving with ice cream. Bowls in hand, she led the way down the hall and up the few steps to Nicolas’s office, Nicolas trailing after her, barefoot, carrying two cappuccinos.

  Feet tucked up under her, Ruby sat companionably at the opposite end of the sofa from him. Her eyes closed, she savored the rich chocolate taste and the warmth of the cappuccino. They soothed like a warm bath. Soothed the mental weight that shifted from the turbulent evening with Michael. It had gone from sociable, to work serious, to exciting, to sexual, and then sank to the bottom of the ocean.

  And she was supposed to beware of Nicolas and her ex-fiancé, ha. More like she should beware of secret agent snakes.

  When she opened her eyes, she noticed Nicolas watching her, and grinned.

  “What?”

  “You amaze me. You create an orgasmic dessert, you make eating it look like its name is true, and all the while you are seething inside.”

  His use of the word, orgasmic, had her swallowing hard the lump of brownie, and the memory of Michael. Trying hard to forget the beach and the feel of Michael’s touch, she chose to concentrate on her scheme.

  “Mmm. Its name fits. Try some.”

  His gaze never leaving hers, Nicolas lifted a bite on a fork to his lips and made moaning sounds of pleasure.

  “Well?”

  “Ok, maybe it’s close to as good as sex but it’s not better than sex. If you believe that then you haven’t had the right kind with the right person.”

  Surprised at his words, her eyes widened. If he knew how close he was. Only recently had she experienced sex that made her want more. The kind she woke up dreaming about. The kind she fantasized about while pumping gas into her car. The kind that curled her toes whenever she remembered it.

  “Is that why you let Mickey touch you?”

  She coughed, coffee spurted from her lips. Thank goodness she had a napkin, otherwise, there’d be cappuccino stains all over the plush carpeting. Narrowing her eyes, Ruby pinned Nicolas with her gaze.

  “Nico, get this straight. What I do on my time is my business. I appreciate your friendship, but what happens or doesn’t happen between me and Mickey or anyone else is none of your business.”

  Nicolas held his hands up palms out in surrender.

  “You’re right, my apologies.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t spy on me and my dates anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t if you went on a date with me.” He smiled, a sweet, seductive smile that Ruby imagined would woo any woman. Except her. She grinned back. This was it. This was her opportunity to get close, to find out more about his operation, who worked for him, who he worked with. All Ruby had to do was get close enough for him to relax, to talk with her, open up, trust her.

  Trust. There was that word again.

  “Hmm, that depends.”

  “On?”

  “Where you take me.”

  After they decided on a quiet dinner out after their first day of work together, Ruby retired to her room.

  Dressed for bed, she retrieved her laptop in order to do some work. Illusion was ready to go, but she wanted to re-test it, and then see if she could get onto Nicolas’s network. If she didn’t have any issues she’d work on capturing his email messages. Being such an uber computer geek, Nicolas was bound to send emails to his partners in crime, thinking that’d be the best communication mode.

  The question was how good was he at covering his tracks? And Ruby would have to make certain she was better, leaving no trace behind.

  She accessed his network with no problem. Once in, she created emailHound, her name for her email tracking software. EmailHound’s purpose was to identify the sender of an email, and its geographical location. It indicated if the sender used misdirection or other tactics in an attempt to disguise their tracks.

  Ruby stretched and glanced at the bedside clock. It was late.

  She wasn’t tired. She was wired. Nerves danced, did the jitterbug under her skin. She shivered and saw the goosebumps on her arms. Shutting down her computer, Ruby set it aside, and crawled beneath the covers. She’d worry about the sniffer application tomorrow, after her date.

  As her head hit the pillow, she smi
led. Not about the date, but what that date would do to a certain know-it-all, self-righteous, son-of-a-bitch spy.

  TWENTY-TWO

  He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up more by leaving Ruby at Nicolas’s. He should have followed her into the house and forced her to listen. Ha! Who was he kidding? No one could force her to listen. She always had to come to her own conclusions in her own time. Right now, he concluded she was pissed at him.

  Michael could still feel her anger and the sting from her slap. In all the years he’d known Ruby he couldn’t recall her losing her temper to the extreme of lashing out physically. Then again, he’d told her everyone was capable of violence. Why would she be any different? Now he knew her breaking point. He’d be sure to avoid that again, he thought, as he rubbed the left side of his face. The lady had one heck of a wallop.

  Irritated, frustrated, and unable to sleep, Michael went to the office to brood. He paced the floor, back and forth, back and forth, until he thought he’d wear a path to the cement slab underneath. Why had he brought her in on this mission? What made him think it was a good idea? He should send her packing. She hadn’t listened to his orders. He didn’t need someone who couldn’t follow rules of engagement.

  He swallowed a shot of bourbon. The amber liquid went down smooth and hot and settled in his gut right where she had figuratively kicked him tonight when she ran away from him.

  He could carry on without her and still succeed. It might take longer, but he could do it. At least that way he wouldn’t have to worry about her. As much.

  “Ah, hell,” Michael cursed himself. Who was he fooling? He didn’t want her gone. He wanted her with him. He told himself he’d be saner if he carried her home even if it meant binding her to him in handcuffs so she couldn’t sneak away. Yeah, he’d finish the job. It wouldn’t be done as soon and more than likely not as well. “Shit, don’t tell her that,” he muttered to no one.

  Michael eyed the leather sofa, contemplated stretching out on it, but knew he’d never get the sleep he needed. Instead, he sat in the chair at his desk, booted the computer up to check his email, determined to push the paradox with cat eyes from his mind. He didn’t want to recall how her body responded to his touch with such fervor and abandon, the way encouraging murmurs and soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips every time he caressed a distended nipple. He’d shove thoughts of Ruby aside and forget the smell of her, her sweet taste, her liquid heat.

  “Oh, yes.” He could see her now standing in front of him looking sexy as hell in a short skirt in her normal pose, hands on hips. Her legs had caught his eyes all those years ago. They were strong and sleek. They invited him to touch, sought to wrap around him. He’d tug at her waist so she was between his legs, his large hands resting on a perfect rear.

  Her breasts would be right at his eye level. She’d comb her fingers through his short hair letting him know she wanted him, that those perky nipples were his. He’d mouth them through her top, feel the heat, and hear her first moan of pleasure. The sound sent sensations of pure hot lust straight through him, making him hard as a rock. Her moan spurred his desire.

  He’d wrap his hand at her nape, pull her mouth to his, sear her with a kiss that demonstrated his need. His lips would travel down her neck, past her collar bone, and down to where she had opened her top for his easy access. His blue eyes would meet Ruby’s sparkling emerald pools, telling him without words that she was his, his to feast on, and his to pleasure.

  Oh, and that’s what he would do. Sucking on one nipple he’d palm the other breast, knead it, ready it. His mouth would move to it, his teeth rub and nip at that tight little peak. His tongue would lick the puckered tip, send waves of passion down her, and prepare her for him.

  He’d make sure she was ready. Kissing his way down her stomach, he’d smell her sweetness. His hands would travel up those gorgeous legs, inch-by-inch until they reached the juncture between her legs. She’d gasp at the soft touch and he’d continue to caress as she opened to him. Lifting the skirt, he’d expose that tiny strip of fuzz that covered her.

  He would sip at her lips, sending shoots of fire into his body. He’d need that wet heat that he felt when he dipped a finger inside her and watched as her hips naturally arched toward him. She’d open wider, giving him full access to that bud, her core. He’d taste her sweetness, her heat, her desire bringing her to a back arching climax. Just when she’d start to come back from the edge of that sexual peak he’d plunge into her. Plunge into liquid heat and...

  The new mail ding sounded on his computer. “Shit,” he growled.

  The message read, “I see she’s lost some of her inhibitions.”

  The words snapped Michael to attention. It was a wake-up call, a warning. There was no signature, but Michael knew who it was from. Ruby’s ex-fiancé.

  He snatched the phone from the cradle and dialed.

  “Her ex is here,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “How do you know?” Jake asked.

  “I’m at my desk and an email just popped up.”

  “You’re at the office? And you’re drunk.” The last part wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. Okay, so maybe he’d had a few too many stiff belts and his speech slurred a little. Michael hadn’t been able to wash her out of his mind so he got drunk. Fat lot of good it did. Now she was back in the forefront and he had to sober up.

  “I want you on a plane ASAP.”

  “Bodyguard duty?”

  “Yes.”

  “You going to tell her?”

  “No.” His tone was curt. He didn’t care. This guy had to be caught. It made no sense this computer geek could elude his team. It pissed him off. Was it deliberate? A cold, sneaking suspicion crept into his mind. Ruby’s ex knew what he was doing and was way more dangerous than Michael first suspected.

  “She’s gonna be madder than a wet cat,” Jake told him in a sing-song voice, implying ‘told you so, told you so.’

  “She’ll get over it,” Michael snapped.

  Ruby’s stalking ex-fiancé was in Hawaii. Instead of wasting any more of Jake’s time he’d ordered him on a plane bound for Oahu. If Ruby insisted on staying with a criminal then someone had to be able to watch and protect her. If he couldn’t, Jake was the next best choice.

  After hanging up, Michael tried to pinpoint where the transmission had originated. He hadn’t found a trace and he didn’t have Ruby’s computer expertise, or Nicolas’s. Two peas in a pod, he thought derisively, except one was a criminal and one was...was...Ruby. His Ruby.

  She always acted strong. That was part of who she was. She would just “go for it.” Did she understand the possible consequences? Understand that people like Nicolas could kill? He’d seen them kill, knew the hot, sharp, feel of a bullet piercing the flesh. You didn’t forget that. And until you experienced it, maybe you couldn’t understand it.

  No, Ruby didn’t understand. He had to protect her. He was a fool for getting her into this in the first place.

  “Damn!”

  The woman he’d known since childhood, who had no business wrapped up with him, in this, who, if he lost...

  A commotion in the lobby snapped him into fight mode. With the sleek, precise movements of a panther, Michael sprang from his chair. In three efficient strides he was at the door to his office. He waited, every nerve on alert. A quick, deep breath let out slowly, his fingertips stroked the Glock at his hip. Under his shirt, tense muscles rippled, coiled power ready to strike.

  Michael heard her laugh. He leaned against the door, closed his eyes, and smiled at the sweet, melodious sound. A warm feeling of relief washed over him. She was here.

  Turning the corner, his heart slammed into his throat. She was here. With him. His arm draped across her shoulders, hugging her frame tight to his, possessively.

  His heart and head screamed at him. Protect her. Stop this foolish game. Take her back. Make her safe. Make her his.

  He should shoot him. Now. Double-tap to the forehead. End it.
End it now. It would be quick and painless. Nah, that’d be too easy. He should feel pain. Suffer.

  Michael imagined as clear as day the weight of the gun in his hand, the firm, familiar presence of power. The unstoppable movement of the sight as it moved, by its own volition it seemed, to the center of the target. The feeling of his finger increasing tension on the trigger. His forearms taking the recoil as he recovered with ease from each shot, the sights returning to center.

  She laughed again. Pay attention! He can’t see you flashing a gun. With regret Michael concealed his weapon, forced his hand down. To his side. Normal. Shaking. Michael gained control of his thoughts, but not his heart. His heart still pounded. He breathed again.

  Need to appear normal, he told himself. Forcing a smile, he walked to the lobby, heading for them, heading toward the amber-eyed woman in the pink floral halter dress. The dress dipped low at her breasts and hung high above the knees. Damn! He wanted her. This was why he’d screwed up. His little head was doing all the thinking for him. Hell, that wasn’t true. His big head caused his little head a significant amount of distress.

  He strode toward her, a predator stalking its prey. That was her first impression when Ruby glanced up, saw blue heat blaze from Michael’s eyes. He halted a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, the muscles taut, a bow pulled ready to snap.

  When she woke that morning from what little sleep she was able to get, she thought about the day ahead. She would be doing the work for Nicolas at Michael’s fictitious company, going out on a professional date with Nicolas, and more than likely have to deal with one irritated spy on both accounts. A spy who’d probably want to strangle her by the day’s end.

  She swallowed a knot of concern when she peered at him. He stood, a granite column in the hall, his gaze intent and dark. She felt heat rising to the tips of her ears. He looked as if he wanted to throttle her, and it was only seven in the morning. That was okay. She already wanted to shoot him. She took in his appearance, disheveled, still in the same black pants and blue shirt he wore last night, Michael looked as if he hadn’t slept any better than she did. Good. But it was going to be a long day.