Undercover with the Enemy

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Undercover with the Enemy Page 11

by Christine Michels


  “So, Heather, what did you do today?”

  Because he was watching her expression closely, he saw the slight flicker of her eyes that betrayed her feeling of guilt. She shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance, but a flush was already climbing into her cheeks. “Nothing much really. A doctor’s appointment, some shopping.”

  Court nodded. If her fair complexion and tendency to blush didn’t consistently betray her, Heather would have been a very accomplished liar. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  “Serious?” Her gaze fixed on his in wide-eyed perplexity.

  “The doctor appointment,” he clarified. Well, he amended, maybe not as accomplished as he’d thought.

  “Oh.” She smiled. “Oh, no. Nothing serious at all.” She sipped her chocolate. “What about you? What did you do today?”

  “Work,” he said. “Not much else.” Court had had enough of her incessant questions. So, before she could think up any more he rose and moved around the table to pull her to her feet. “Come with me,” he said.

  “Wh-where are we going?” Heather stammered, trying to keep her mug from spilling as he tugged her from the kitchen and into the corridor.

  “Swimming.”

  “Swimming? But…it’s after midnight.”

  “What’s the time got to do with it? You go and change into your swimsuit and meet me by the pool in five minutes. It’ll do us both good to get a little midnight exercise.” He could think of another kind of midnight exercise that he wouldn’t mind getting, but… Well, the night wasn’t over yet.

  Heather stared after Court in surprise as he deposited her at her bedroom door without even considering the idea that she might not want to swim…particularly not with him. Somehow the idea was almost as appealing as it was threatening. “I really don’t—” she called after him weakly.

  “Be there,” he interrupted. “Or I’ll be back to get you.”

  Heather sighed, shook her head and entered her room. She suspected this was one battle she simply would not win, so she might as well capitulate gracefully.

  It was closer to ten minutes later and nearing 1:00 a.m. when she hesitantly approached the pool. Soft, sensual music played in the background, seeming almost to be a part of the moonlight and muted pool lighting, but she didn’t see Court. Maybe he was late, too. She should go back to her room.

  She skirted a deck chair as she peered into the shadows of the dimly lit pool area. Her heart was literally pounding with trepidation. This was pure madness. Foolhardy in the extreme. She needed to avoid Court as much as possible, not flirt with danger. If you play with fire, you get burned. The words sounded in her mind as clearly as though they’d been spoken. It had been one of her mother’s favorite sayings. A caution from on high? she wondered.

  She had just decided to heed the warning wherever it might have come from, and was about to turn back, when there was a faint splashing sound. “Come on in, Heather. The water’s perfect.” Court’s voice drifted to her, dark and beguiling, in the moonlight. Burgundy velvet.

  She moved closer to the pool, seeking him in the shadows, then finally saw him surface near the edge, as though he’d come to meet her. “Hi,” she said simply, self-consciously, barely managing a smile.

  Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his gaze lifted, sliding over her with an almost tangible caress. It moved from her bronze-polished toenails, up her long legs to her hips, over the slight swell of her abdomen, lingered briefly on her full breasts and then, finally, reached her face. “Hi, yourself,” he said with a smile. But the expression in his eyes left Heather with little doubt that he liked what he saw. And, unfortunately, she discovered that she very much liked being looked at that way.

  Her mouth went dry. She shouldn’t be here. It was dangerous. Court Gabriele was just the kind of man she could fall in love with if she wasn’t careful, and yet the only thing she knew about him for certain was that he was a man who lived on the edges of society where the violence and ugliness were at their worst. Where the single loud report from a handgun could mean that he would never see another day. Where men like DiMona and his kind thrived. And it was a place that Heather wanted nothing to do with. How could she reconcile her attraction to the man himself with her repulsion for his way of life—no matter who he was?

  “Are you coming in?”

  Startled, her gaze met his. “Yes.” Before she could think about it any more, she dived into the pool and began to swim for the other end.

  She sensed him push off the edge of the pool, and begin to swim after her. Within seconds, he caught up with her and began pacing her. He said nothing, merely watched her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She didn’t until she reached the end of the pool. Then she stopped, stood, brushed the mane of russet hair out of her eyes and looked at him.

  He smiled. “Race you to the other end and back.”

  Heather arched a brow. “Oh, sure. This from a man who has the opportunity to practice on a daily basis.”

  He shrugged. “So I’ll give you half a length head start. Are you game?”

  Heather grinned. She’d always been a pretty decent swimmer. She might actually have the chance to win this. “You’re on!” Without waiting for another word, she dived forward and came up swimming hard.

  She reached the other end and pushed off again, noting that Court still hadn’t caught up with her. She was going to win! The sheer joy of competition bubbled up inside her. Yes! And then, suddenly, there was a tug on her ankle that pulled her beneath the surface of the water. Coughing and sputtering, she came up just as Court stroked smoothly past.

  She reached the pool’s edge to see him waiting for her with a cocky grin on his face. “You—you cheat!”

  He offered her an unrepentant shrug. “What can I say? I hate to lose. What are you going to do about it?”

  Heather stared at him in amazement. “Why you—” Furious, she slapped the water with the palm of her hand, sending a huge geyser into his face that left him sputtering. “That’s what I’m going to do about it, you—you—cheater!”

  When she saw he was laughing beneath his sputtering, she was infuriated anew and decided he needed more humbling. Using both hands, she began to send consistent torrents his way until he bellowed, “Enough!” between laughs and sputters and began making his way toward her through the torrent of flying water.

  Abruptly, Heather realized he was getting too close, and she turned to flee.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” he laughed.

  Grabbing a handful of her hair, he tugged her to a halt and turned her to face him. Then, as she tried to revert to splashing him once more, he lifted her out of the water, foiling her plans. Heather squealed in protest and looked down into his laughing face.

  Suddenly though, the atmosphere between them changed, becoming charged with something Heather couldn’t name, and as she watched the smile fade from his face she could only wait for what would come. Court lowered her gently back into the water, allowing her water-slicked body to slide over his until her toes touched the pool bottom again. Heather was barely conscious of having regained her feet, for she was held in thrall by the expression in his leonine eyes. It was primitive, feral, and deeply sensual—a force as old as humankind itself—and it called powerfully to something deep within her that she had not known existed. The intensity of that el emental call rocked her to the core of her being, terrifying her with one realization: she could easily fall in love with this man.

  Much too easily.

  Chapter 11

  A small sound escaped Heather’s throat as she broke away from him and headed toward the edge of the pool as quickly as she was able. Regret and fear burned behind her eyes in equal measure. Regret for what might have been. Fear for what might yet come to pass.

  An instant later, Court joined her. Although she tried to avoid his gaze, he extended a gentle hand, to lift her chin, forcing her eyes up. He seemed to see something reflected there, for his expression grew more solemn. “Is something wrong, Heather?”

&
nbsp; She started to shake her head, to deny the problem. Honesty is always the best policy, dear, her mother’s lilting Irish voice sounded in her mind again, voicing another of the many platitudes she so loved to use. “Yes,” she murmured in agreement.

  “What?” Court asked.

  Startled, Heather realized that he thought she had spoken to him. And he was right to think so. After all, who else would she be speaking to? But now, how did she respond? “I’m afraid, Court.”

  He frowned. “Of what?”

  Heather swallowed, her gaze darting skyward as she sought the words to continue. But now her mother’s voice remained obstinately silent. Slowly, reluctantly, she looked again at Court. “You,” she murmured. “This—this connection or attraction or whatever it is that keeps happening between us, it’s—”

  “It’s what?” His tone caressed her, burgundy velvet on a sensual sea of moonlight and background music.

  She closed her eyes briefly, sending a prayer winging its way heavenward that she wasn’t making a drastic mistake and then plunged ahead. “It’s dangerous, Court.”

  His frown didn’t alter as he stared at her with his golden-eyed gaze. “I’m not following, Heather. I think you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

  He moved slightly closer as though to see her expression more clearly, and the warm water lapped at her breasts. For a second she allowed herself to imagine that the caress had come from him. Then she shook off the fantasy. She had never had time for fantasies, and she didn’t have time now.

  When she said nothing, he pressed. “How is this attraction dangerous, Heather? What are you afraid of?”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Of me?” He seemed confounded.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  Heather hesitated. She no longer believed in her heart that Court could be a criminal, a killer. In truth, she’d been thinking of him as a cop of some kind for a while now. But…could she be absolutely certain? Sure enough to let information slip that might get her brother killed if Court wasn’t the man she thought him to be?

  No, she couldn’t. So, how could she possibly explain without revealing too much? She could only reveal part of the truth, and that part would be more risky on a personal level than any truth she had ever shared, for her words would reveal the depths of her attraction for him. Something she would much rather keep to herself. If Court was not the decent and ethical man she believed him to be, he could use that against her.

  “Remember that I told you I was engaged once, and that he was a police officer?”

  Court nodded with a thoughtful frown, obviously wondering where she was going with this.

  Heather swallowed, and then plunged ahead. “I don’t want to grow to care for another man who carries a gun, Court. And I don’t want to risk losing another man I care about to a premature death. A violent death. There has been too much violence in my life.”

  Comprehension dawned in his eyes. “I see.” He stared off into the night. “So, then, what do we do about this thing between us?”

  Heather swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “We—we ignore it,” she responded in a tone barely above a whisper.

  He looked back at her then, and Heather almost sobbed at the tenderness shining from his luminous eyes. She had been prepared for many things, anger, displeasure, even hurt, but not understanding. How was it that he could understand her so well? “I’ll do my best, Heather,” he murmured. “For your sake. But, remember, I’m only human.”

  She nodded. Then, unable to stay a moment longer for fear that she would burst into tears, she hoisted herself out of the pool. “Good night, Court.”

  “Good night, Heather.” His velvet voice wrapped around her even now, luring her, but she resisted its call and made her escape for another night.

  After a near sleepless night, Heather wanted nothing more than to leave. To regain her boring old life. To see Des and make plans for their future. But of all her desires, the only thing she could do was see Des. And that she would do, without waiting another minute. Without saying anything to anyone, she wrote Court a brief message telling him that she hoped to be back on time for his 10:30 a.m. exercise session, and left.

  Des was reading a fantasy novel when she arrived at his room.

  “Heather!” he exclaimed the moment she entered. Jumping off the bed, he rushed across the room to embrace her. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “I couldn’t reach you, and I was so worried.”

  Heather frowned in confusion. “I told you I’d accepted a private position.”

  He reared away from her to look down into her face. “Yes, but you didn’t tell me you’d quit your job to do it. I called, trying to reach you and they said you weren’t working there anymore. They couldn’t even tell me who you were working for.” He calmed a bit then, staring into her face with a perceptiveness she wasn’t used to seeing from her younger brother. “Sis, what’s going on?”

  Heather shrugged, avoiding his eyes as she patted his shoulder. “You’re being melodramatic, Des. Nothing’s going on.” She moved toward the only chair in the room. Sitting down, she looked up at him. “Now, sit down and tell me why you were so frantic to get hold of me.”

  He scowled. “There was no reason. Do I have to have a reason to call my sister?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. ’Cause I was just feeling like talking one night, so I tried to find out where you were so I could call you. But the more I learned—or rather didn’t learn—the more worried I got. This isn’t like you, Heather. Something’s going on.”

  Heather studied him. He was such a handsome young man with his midnight-black hair and bright green eyes. Des should have been out fending off the attentions of amorous young women, dating and having fun. Instead, because of DiMona and people like him, Des was in here, battling the demon of addiction. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

  Now, she met her brother’s determined gaze and swallowed. “Before I explain, I want your solemn promise that you won’t do anything stupid,” she said. “That you’ll stay out of it.”

  He eyed her grimly. “I don’t like the sound of that. I might be able to help, you know.”

  “Promise me, Des. Or I can’t tell you.”

  He hesitated a moment more and then nodded. “Fine. All right. I promise.”

  Heather heaved a sigh of relief. Had she seen the crossed fingers he held behind his back, however, she might not have found his promise quite so comforting.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on,” he demanded.

  Heather rose to walk to the window where she stared out at the perfectly manicured grounds without really seeing them and proceeded to tell him the truth. “I told you that I had gone to speak to Herrera and that he’d agreed to wait until you were out of here for you to repay his money.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that wasn’t the complete truth.” She told him about the agreement she’d reached with DiMona.

  When she finished, Des seemed to sag before her eyes. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grimaced, his facial expression mirroring his emotional pain. “Oh, Heather. What have I got you into?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said, hoping the words were true.

  “Wrong!” he almost shouted the word. Then swallowing, he lowered his voice. “Heather these people are ruthless. Once they have their claws into you, they don’t let go. And now that you’re working for them, they’ll keep you working for them.” He paused. “Oh, they’ll let you think it’s finished…until they need you again. But, there will always be another job. Don’t you understand that, Heather?”

  Heather stared at him, for that was one thing she had never considered. Numbly, she shook her head. “No, Des. You’re wrong. I just have to do this and then we’ll be free to go on with our lives.” Oh, Lord, she hoped she was right. Tugging the strap of her purse more securely onto her shoulder, she suddenly felt
the need to escape. To get someplace where she could think. “I have to go.”

  He grabbed her as she began to turn away. “What did they say would happen if you didn’t do what they wanted?”

  She didn’t want to say anymore. “Please, Des,” she begged. “Don’t do this.”

  “Tell me, Sis. Please. I need to know everything.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. “They said that they’d—they’d kill you.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Des—”

  He shook off the contemplation and met her gaze. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t blame yourself, okay? I’ve been thinking about this, and I think they may have used you to get to me.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I think somebody gave you that false tip about the rigged race so you’d lose that money and be indebted to them.”

  His expression cleared as he appeared to consider the possibility. She could be right! “Maybe,” he conceded. “Where can I reach you if I need to?”

  Heather paused a moment before speaking. “The man I’m working with is a lawyer by the name of Court Gabriele, but I think it would be best if you didn’t call me there except in a dire emergency. If you want to talk with me and it’s not urgent, leave a message in my voice mail and I’ll get back to you. You should have done that before. I would have called you and then you wouldn’t have had to worry. Right?”

  Des nodded. “Sure.” Then, he swept his sister into a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself, Sis. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, hon. Don’t you worry about a thing. Your big sister will take care of everything. Haven’t I always?”

  “Yeah.” But that didn’t mean that was the way it had to continue to be. Maybe it was time he took a step into manhood and took care of her for a change. At least he could try.

  Although Heather wasn’t late in returning to Court’s, he was already in the gym when she arrived, his body slick with perspiration from the weight workout. He didn’t see her immediately, and she watched him complete a set of butterfly presses before repositioning himself on the equipment to use the leg developer. That worried her.

 

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