Sex, Lies and Surveillance

by Stephanie Julian

  “And the time before that, the general contractor and the plumbing inspector?”

  Annie’s laugh was pure sexy growl. “But let me tell you, honey, the inspector knew his way around pipes.”

  Now they both laughed so hard, it took them nearly a minute to calm down.

  “Oh, come on, Janey,” Annie finally said. “Brad said his friend’s a nice guy and good-looking. I’ve met some of Brad’s friends. Yummy. When was the last time you had a date, anyway?”

  Because she had to think about it—and because she didn’t want to tell Annie about the one she’d just made for Saturday, especially not over the office line—Annie pounced on her silence. “See. If it’s been that long, you definitely need to get out. We used to have so much fun double dating in high school.”

  Janey had to laugh at that. “Yeah, I did get the better end of the bargain then. I got the shy, sweet guys.”

  And don’t I wish I still did.

  “And I dated the jocks who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.” Bitterness coated Annie’s tone. “But Brad’s not like that. And you never know, you might like this guy. Or…maybe it’ll give Mal the incentive to ask you out himself.”

  If she only knew.

  “Come on, Jane,” Annie pleaded. “I won’t even tell Brad’s friend you’re coming if you don’t want me to. At least come and meet Brad.”

  Janey knew that was the real reason Annie wanted her to go. “All right, all right. Just don’t call it a date.”

  Annie smacked an exaggerated kiss over the line. “You won’t regret this, I promise. Love ya, girlfriend.”

  Yeah, right. She was regretting it already. Because the only man she wanted to date was Mal.

  Chapter Five

  An hour later, Janey was still trying to get her brain to settle down to do some serious work when the unusually loud rumble of male voices from Nic’s office drew her down the hall.

  Nic had said he’d stop and pick her up on their way out. But she’d just taken a call for him, which meant he must’ve turned off the phone in his office. Again.

  One of these days she’s was going to stop taking his calls and transcribing his notes and—

  Oh, hell. Why did she even bother lying to herself?

  She knew she’d never go through with it. Her brothers were too dependent on her and it was her own damn fault. She liked that they needed her. But they also took her for granted.

  She’d been stagnating before the NSA offer, even with the freelancing she did for the Philadelphia police. At least the work she did there let her actually contribute a necessary service, rather than just supporting her family in the important work they did.

  But she was suffocating.

  That was why she’d considered leaving, taking a job that would force her to leave Philadelphia, to leave her nice comfortable job with her family and prove to herself that she could make it on her own.

  Without her parents and brothers treating her like a porcelain doll.

  Swallowing a sigh, she went to stick her head through Nic’s open office door when she realized Mal was in there with him.

  “Not a big gun fan,” he said. “I like knives. German made. Fit the hand better.”

  “Nah,” Nic said. “Give me a good semi-automatic, and I’m happy.”

  “How’d you get the scars? They look like knife cuts.”

  “Night after graduation from RIP, my buddy swerved to miss a deer. Went through the windshield.”

  “Hurt bad?”

  “Nah. A few stitches.”

  A few stitches, her ass. He’d needed more than a hundred in various parts of his body. As silently as she could, she inched forward until she could just see into the office.

  “You were in Somalia, right?” Mal asked. “That was a bitch. Hot as hell.”

  Whoa. Where had that bad boy come from?

  Oh, she knew it was Mal, but somewhere between the time she’d last seen him—when he’d kissed her for the second time—and now, he’d transformed himself from computer nerd to totally hot undercover agent.

  And, oh my, what a difference. He’d exchanged his baggy cargo pants for a pair of worn jeans that defined an ass so fine it made her gut clench and her thighs tighten. A black T-shirt clung to broad shoulders and a wide chest she wanted to pet like a cat while the short sleeves exposed biceps that made her mouth water.

  No meek computer nerd here. He looked…dangerous.

  No, dangerous was way too simple a word.

  Freaking awesome might be overdoing it. Then again, maybe not.

  Jeez, if she wasn’t careful, he’d be picking her off the floor at his feet. And wouldn’t that be completely embarrassing?

  “Yeah,” Nic answered. “Took a bullet in the side about six years ago. They wanted to put me on desk duty after that. Took a medical discharge instead.”

  “Sounds like you saw a lot of action.”

  What was it about a tight black T-shirt that could reduce her to a quivering ball of lust? She’d never wanted to squeeze into a pair of jeans with someone else in them before.

  “Hey, Janey? What’s up?” Nic’s voice caught her by surprise and she tore her gaze away from Mal’s ass. Her brother never took his eyes off the gun clip he was loading, but his half-assed grin said he knew she’d been standing there awhile.

  Steeling her spine and biting her lip so her mouth didn’t fall open, she walked in. Mal glanced at her, then quickly looked away.

  Was she mistaken or had he just blushed?

  Why had she come here again? “Ah, Lieutenant Coggio called for you a couple minutes ago. He wants you to get in touch with him as soon as possible.”

  Then she couldn’t help it. Her gaze slid in Mal’s direction again, locking on to that perfect chest.

  “Must be about this deal,” Nic muttered as he picked up the phone to dial, hopefully missing her tongue falling out of her mouth.

  With every breath Mal took, the T-shirt stretched. She swallowed as she watched him strap a holster around his shoulder. Then he slid a SIG Sauer into the holster and bent to check the knife in his boot. A pair of well-worn black combat boots.

  Okay, that was enough. Now she was lusting after his boots. She dragged her gaze away.

  Focus. She needed to focus.

  “Are we ready to go?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Mal reached for the buckle of his belt. “We were just coming to get you.”

  Janey’s heart revved like Nic’s vintage motorcycle. And when Mal pulled a small blade from the buckle, she nearly melted.

  He handled that knife with the skill of a pro. He had big hands, capable hands, hands that looked entirely too comfortable with those knives.

  Come to think of it, he looked much more comfortable in those jeans and T-shirt than he did in his chinos and dress shirts.

  It didn’t fit. Nothing about this man fit into a neat package.

  ***

  A half hour later, Janey stood beside Mal, trying to talk a scared German teenager into selling them a cache of hot guns.

  Nic had agreed to do a favor for Luke Nabosny, who needed to know where the guns had come from so the cops could decide how they wanted to proceed. She knew the vice guys hated to hand over their cases to the feds, but this one had ATF written all over it.

  “Ist das alles?” she asked. “Es wurde uns gesagt, es sollte mehr sein.”

  The punk spat out words machine-gun fast in response to her question about where the rest of the guns were. According to Luke, there were supposed to be a hell of a lot more than the ones this kid had in the crate behind him.

  The kid’s nerves were starting to show and that was not a good combination on a street-hardened teenager with a gun stuck in his jeans.

  She didn’t want this to turn ugly. She didn’t want the lives of her brother and Mal or this kid to rest on something she did or said.

  If the kid pulled the gun, someone would get hurt. It was inevitable.

  “Wo sind die restlichen Gewehre?�
�� she asked again about the location of the guns. “Es wurde uns gesagt, es sollte mehr sein.”

  Luke had told them there would be more. He’d been positive there would be at least two crates.

  The kid shook his head violently. “Ich weiss nicht, wo die restlichen Gewehre sind.”

  He denied knowing anything. Then he started babbling about an older brother and how he was dead if he didn’t come back with the money.

  Jesus, this poor kid was being forced to sell the guns. And if he didn’t return with the money, the brother would kill him.

  The kid was almost crying and, without thinking, she reached for his hand. And cursed herself silently the second she did it.

  Because the kid reacted by pulling a gun.

  She saw him reach for it, had her hand on her own gun a split second later, but she still wasn’t as fast as Mal. By the time she moved, Mal had grabbed her and shoved her behind him, hard enough to make her stumble and fall to the ground.

  Too stunned to be pissed, she watched Mal morph from laid-back to dead-serious hard-ass with eyes so cold they could freeze a polar bear.

  Oh, she was so right about there being more to Mal Laughlin than met the eye.

  And she would dig until she knew every single one of his secrets.

  ***

  Mal swore he felt Janey’s gaze on his back like a pinpoint of blazing hot fire.

  He hoped to hell she was okay. He hadn’t meant to be so rough, but when he’d seen the kid pull a gun, he’d acted on instinct. His only job here was to protect Janey, so he had. In his line of work, he didn’t have time for second thoughts. What he hadn’t considered was just how pissed off she was going to be at him for doing so.

  Still, the kid had pulled a gun.

  “Mal, stand down.”

  Nic’s quiet rasp drew his attention. Mal lowered his weapon, only now feeling the strain on his arm as he realized Nic had subdued the kid.

  Shit. That had been much too close. And from the look in Janey’s eyes when he turned, it’d been a little too revealing. Shit again.

  Sticking out his hand to help her up, adrenaline pumped through his body like acid, singeing his nerve endings. Still, he couldn’t lie to himself. That flash of heat when their hands touched was not due to residual fear.

  No, that heat seared straight to his balls and that was so not good. After pulling her to her feet, he forced himself to release her. Her hand slid from his slowly, as if she didn’t want to let go. He knew he didn’t.

  Taking a deep breath laced with the herbal scent she wore, he cleared his dry throat and said, “Are you okay?”

  She cocked her head to the side, staring straight at him. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  She stared at him for a few brief seconds and, when she flashed that sexy-as-hell grin of hers, his blood pressure skyrocketed.

  Until Nic stepped to his side, the dejected teen in a headlock, and blew a hole through everyone of his longings.

  “Thanks, brat,” he said to Janey. Then, “Hey, Mal, good job. Take the guns. Go back to the car. I’ll pay the kid and we’ll get out of here.”

  Mal didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing the heavy box filled with guns, he shouldered it and took off after Janey, already halfway across the parking lot. He caught up with her at Nic’s Bronco, where she opened the gate so he could shove the long wooden case into the truckbed.

  By the time she’d shut the gate, Nic had walked up, sparing Mal from the questions he saw in her eyes.

  “So where’re the rest of the guns?” Nic asked after they’d gotten into the car—Janey in the front, Mal in the back.

  “He said this was all his brother gave him to sell,” Janey said. “I think he was too terrified to lie.”

  Nic shook his head. “Luke ain’t gonna like that. I’ll call him from the office. He said not to bring the guns to the station.”

  From the backseat, Mal could see a true grin light Janey’s face. “Luke’s going to pick them up? Good. I need to talk to him.”

  Nic grunted and shot her a glance. “About what?”

  Janey’s fist shot out and slugged Nic on the arm. He didn’t even flinch, although she hadn’t pulled her punch. “None of your business and don’t you grunt at me.”

  “Janey—”

  “Don’t, Dominic.”

  “I don’t want you—”

  “Dominic, I mean it.” Her voice turned sharp. “I’m not sixteen anymore. Even back then, I didn’t need your protection. You can’t run my life.”

  Nic opened his mouth to speak again, then apparently thought better of it.

  Smart man.

  The rest of the ride back to the office was silent. Thank God it wasn’t a long trip. But it left a lot of time for Mal to wonder who the hell this Luke guy was.

  ***

  “Luke!”

  Janey’s face transformed with joy as she jumped out of the truck and threw herself at the tall blond man waiting by the back door to the DeMarco building.

  The guy had a huge grin on his face and caught her out of the air like he did it every day.

  “Hey, Janey. Good to see you, babe.”

  Janey smacked a kiss on the guy’s lips and Mal nearly yanked the handle off the door. Getting out of the truck, he took his time looking the guy over. As tall as Mal, he was built like a brick outhouse, with a scruffy growth of beard and shabby street clothes. Mal pegged him undercover. Had to be.

  “You’re a flirt, Luke. And don’t call me babe.”

  The guy staggered backward, holding a hand over his heart. “You’re killing me here. Babe.” His South Philly accent got thicker with every word before he turned to Nic. “Hey. Everything go okay?”

  Nic shrugged. “Got the guns in the back. Not everything you wanted, though.”

  “Your gun dealer was a terrified teenager with a lisp,” Janey cut in, “whose brother appears to be the man you’re looking for. Couldn’t get much out of him before he pulled a gun.”

  Luke’s pale green eyes narrowed as they cut back to Janey. “He pulled a gun? You hurt?”

  Janey rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Mal played hero today.”

  Now that green gaze sliced his way, and Mal definitely saw cop there.

  “You’re the new guy, huh?” He stuck a hand out and Mal took it. “Luke Nabosny. Philly vice.”

  “Mal Laughlin.”

  “Nice to meet ya.” Dismissing Mal, he turned back to Janey. “So, where do you think the guns came from?”

  Mal leaned against the truck and listened as Janey launched into a detailed analysis of recent foreign gun deals and local dealers. The woman was smart as hell and now oblivious to his presence. As he watched, Luke and Janey walked together into the building, heads close together, deep in conversation.

  “Hey, Mal, give me a hand,” Nic called. When Mal turned, he saw Nic watching the couple disappear into the building, his eyes hard and his expression deadly.

  “You don’t have any sisters, do you?” Nic pulled the box of guns out of the back of the Bronco.

  “Only child.” Mal grabbed the other end of the box.

  “You’re lucky.” In low rasp, Nic added, “If he gets her wrapped up in his shit, I’m gonna kill him.”

  Mal’s information antennae went on full alert. “Seems like a nice guy.”

  “He’s Jimmy’s best friend and a damn good vice cop. But…”

  “But what?”

  Nic just shook his head. “Nothing. Come on, let’s get these transferred so Nabosny can get the hell out of here.”

  ***

  “So, what’dya think, babe? You got anything for me yet?”

  “Not yet. Still working on it. Got to be careful now with Dad’s health.”

  Mal stood unnoticed outside Janey’s office. There was no one else in the building. Nic had jumped in his truck as soon as they’d unloaded the guns, saying he had an errand to run. Mal hadn’t seen Jimmy all day. And neither Grace
nor Frank had been in.

  Mal had been returning to his office when he’d heard voices from Janey’s.

  “Hey, you wanna pull out, babe, that’s fine. The stakes are getting higher and your brothers are gonna kill me when they find out what I’ve got you doing. That last job was desperation on my part. I didn’t know where else to turn. Carabini was a tough nut. I never thought you’d be so into it, but if you’re up for more…”

  “Count me in,” Janey said with no hesitation. “You need me for this. I’m not afraid.”

  Nabosny’s laugh was short and sarcastic. “Yeah, I know. Cops don’t make enough, babe. Not by a long shot. All right, I gotta get going—”

  Mal slipped into his office before they could find him eavesdropping. With a conscious effort, he unclenched his hands and sat behind his desk, trying to breathe through the sucker punch.

  Son of a bitch. He should have seen this coming.

  He was damn good at what he did. He should have known.

  He wasn’t after Grace and Frank.

  It was Janey.

  Chapter Six

  Heart pounding, Mal sat at his desk, waiting for the cop to leave Janey’s office.

  His lungs felt like someone had knotted them tight. And he couldn’t get his brain to move past the fact that Janey’d had something to do with his partner’s death.

  The logical half of his brain, the part that allowed him to coldly analyze every problem, wanted to arrest her. Take her back to Washington, put her in an interrogation room and hammer her until she broke.

  The other half, the part that knew Janey would never be involved in anything illegal, wanted to pound Nabosny into pulp for getting her mixed up in whatever the hell he had going. Which was exactly what Nic had said earlier.

  Obviously Nic suspected something was going on between the cop and Janey, something that could put Janey in danger. But she must have hidden it well enough to keep it from her parents and her brothers.

  What had the cop had her do that would involve Carabini? Why would the cop go to Janey in the first place and why the hell would they keep it a secret if there was nothing illegal going on? Was Nabosny in it for the money? Was that what he’d meant when he was talking to Janey?