"Don't worry, Hal. I can weather it."
"I know you can but… Listen, I have to ask this. Are you sure you're going to be okay working with him?"
"I just told you—"
"I know what you told me but what I mean is… You two had something going before. Do you…care about each other?"
"You mean do we love each other, don't you? No way. We never really knew each other. We were both undercover."
She went to the window and stared out into the white mists, feeling the isolation, knowing how those buildings felt, each enshrouded in gauze, cut off from the others while standing among them. Her mind reached out to those lonely companions. It isn't so bad, she told them. If you stand alone you don't get hurt. Believe me, you only hurt when you let them see you. Hide inside your cover and no one can touch you. It's much easier that way.
She felt Hal's presence behind her. His huge hand gently rested on her shoulder and she turned to face him. He was a big man, towering above her, but she felt safe with him. He cared.
Funny that she should feel close to a man whom she only saw a handful of times a year and who had recruited her into the most dangerous career she could have chosen. But it was what she'd needed, still needed. She was doing something important and that gave her life meaning. If it hadn't been for Hal, she dreaded thinking about where she'd be now.
"Angel, you and I go back a long way and I know you better than anyone. If you can't be objective, I can't put you together on this case. No matter what I told O'Connor."
She slumped onto a chair again, thumping her elbows on the table and leaning her face on her palms. It was tempting, to take the out Hal offered. After a moment, she slid her fingers through her hair and leaned back. Allowing Hal to pull Frank from the case would mean a delay in finding the informant, endangering a lot of people. She couldn't put her own discomfort ahead of others. And she couldn't give Frank the satisfaction of knowing he rattled her. She scrubbed at her face and sighed, then got up and fixed herself a cup of coffee.
"Hal, believe me, there is no future for Mr. O'Connor and me. And even if I were attracted to him, I would never let anyone or anything endanger my job. You know how important my cover is, how long I've worked to establish it."
No one knew better than Hal.
"I know, Angel. Sometimes I think it means too much. You'll have to give it up eventually."
"No!" She paced away from him.
"Look, you don't have to keep paying for what happened when you were just a kid—"
She whirled around to face him again. "Hal, I'm not giving up my cover. I can make a difference. I have a chance of moving up higher in the organization and getting information that could really hurt them."
"You could also get caught…and killed…just like—"
She slammed her fist on the table with a resounding thud. "That's not why I'm doing this and you know it!" At Hal's blatant look of disbelief, her anger cooled enough to add, "All right, that's not the only reason. Look, Hal, what's wrong with wanting to make a difference, wanting to do something worthwhile with my life?"
"You already have, Angel."
"But it's not enough. I can—"
"Face it. It'll never be enough." He grabbed her hand and stopped her frantic pacing. "You'll keep on and on until life has passed you by. You deserve a life of your own. You deserve to be yourself, to respect yourself. Angel, I know what it costs you to work with those people day in and day out, to have people believe you're one of them. I know it's not easy."
"Life isn't meant to be easy," she snapped.
"But it's not meant to be hell, either. You know we could give you a position in the Bureau where you could still make a difference."
She glared at him. "I can't do a damn desk job, Hal!"
"It doesn't have to be a desk job. There's still field work you can do. With your knowledge of the ins and outs of the syndicate you could do investigative work."
"Forget it, Hal. I'm not giving up my cover and that's final. I would think you'd be glad. It took a lot of time and effort on both our parts to get me where I am today and it's really paying off."
"I know, Angel. I just don't want to see you hurt."
"Don't worry about me, Hal. I've been taking care of myself since I was sixteen. I'm very good at it."
"Maybe too good."
She didn't want to have this discussion anymore. Staring at the chaotic form of the paper clip sculpture, she felt too close to that state herself. She glanced at her watch.
"I've got to get going, Hal," she said as she pulled a tissue and a small compact out of her purse and repaired the damage her tears had done. When she was finished, she stood up. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Then she left his office to go back to the life that wasn't really hers but was the only reality she knew.
* * *
"Are you going to be able to cope with this?"
Frank leaned against the wall beside the window, watching Angel leave the building. She shoved up the cuff of her jacket to glance at her watch as she hurried along. Her fitted black suit accentuated her slender waist, and the slit down the back of her straight, pencil-line skirt showed her alluring calves as she trotted down the steps. Her delightful bottom swayed seductively as she hurried down the street.
Could he cope? Of course he could cope. He'd have to cope. After all, how hard could it be to resist an angel? Especially when he knew for a fact that the angel was really a devil. Frank groaned as he raked his hand through his hair.
"Frank?"
He whirled around to see Dennis standing in the doorway frowning at him. It took a moment to realize it had been Dennis who had voiced the question and not his own fevered mind.
"Dennis. Sorry, I was distracted."
Dennis moved to the window and glanced past Frank in time to see Angel sliding into a cab. "So I see." His hawk-like gaze zeroed in on Frank. "What's all this about a relationship between you two? How did you get mixed up with someone you thought was a mob member?"
"I didn't know it when I met her…then when I did…" Frank hesitated. He didn't want Dennis to know what a fool he'd been. "I was undercover and she was close to Cavaglione. I thought I'd learn something."
The way Dennis' eyes narrowed made it clear he knew there was more to it than that. "Frank, we've got to play this thing carefully."
"I can do my job, Dennis," Frank flared.
Dennis' hand dropped onto Frank's shoulder. "I know you can. But admit it, you feel something for this woman."
"I feel something all right." Frank paced over to his desk and leaned on the edge, crossing his arms over his chest. "The woman turned me over to the mob."
"As part of her cover. You'll come to terms with that sooner or later and realize she's not the monster you've believed her to be all these years."
Frank's gaze jumped to Dennis' face.
"Look, Frank. I know this incident must have happened just before you came to work for me. The timing is right. I never knew what was eating you and it wasn't any of my business since you did your job, and did it well. If anything, the anger drove you to become the best. But I know that woman meant something to you, otherwise you wouldn't be in the state you are now. And when you get over the shock, I'm afraid you're going to fall—hard and fast."
"No way!" Frank slashed his hand through the air in emphasis.
"You really believe you can keep your objectivity?"
"We are here to nail the informant, aren't we? If it's Angel, it'll be my pleasure."
Dennis locked gazes with Frank. "And if it isn't?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want you to hang her before we have all the facts. She may be the prime suspect, but we haven't proven it yet. Remember that."
In Too Deep: Chapter Three
Frank remained silent as Dennis strode to the door.
"I'm going to grab some lunch. Meeting in half an hour. Don't forget."
Once the door closed behind him, Frank slumped down in a
chair, wiping his hands across his face.
What had happened to him in Hal's office, when he'd been alone with Angel? What had happened to the cool professional who would never let another woman get to him? And yet, so close to Angel, his cool demeanor had boiled away, leaving his blood flowing like lava.
Still shocked and appalled by what his raging emotions had allowed, he admitted that he'd wanted her—no, needed her—desperately. He'd felt that if he couldn't bury himself in her warmth, he would die.
She was dangerous, that one. Maybe Dennis was right. Maybe Frank couldn't remain objective. But, hell, if he allowed Angel to drive him away from this assignment, she'd win. And he didn't intend to let her have the upper hand again.
Anyway, if she was the informant, he wanted to be the one to prove it. And she was. He was certain of it.
Working with Angel would be a challenge. And Frank never walked away from a challenge.
Angel. The image of her sweet loving face gazing up at him, her brown eyes filled with liquid passion, her lips still moist from their shared kiss, caused his heart to lurch.
Damn it! If his mind insisted on dredging up those memories, then he should at least remind himself where it had led. He thumped his feet up on the desk as his mind wandered back to the evening he had tried for so many years to forget. That he'd never be able to forget.
He and Angel had returned to her cabin after dinner and he had been enjoying the sweetness of her kisses and her soft warm body pressed against his. Then she'd turned serious and started probing him for information.
"Frank, are you really here on vacation?"
"Sure, why do you ask?"
He felt guilty lying to her about that, but he was undercover. He laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned back on them in a relaxed fashion, hoping she hadn't noticed the slight stiffening of his shoulders.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Just a feeling, I guess."
"Woman's intuition?" he asked dubiously, raising his eyebrows.
"Something like that. Whatever it is, it's served me well over the years."
He sat up straight and took her hands in his, wanting to reassure her. "Honey, I'm here and we're together. Isn't that enough?"
"For how long, Frank?" She pulled her hands away. "When does your vacation end? When will you be leaving?"
"Are you worried about the future?"
"Of course. Aren't you?"
"Yes." He sighed. "Look, I know I want you in it, Angel. Whatever that takes. I love you."
He'd never admitted that to a woman before. It had never been true before. As he watched Angel staring back at him with a quiet tension gripping her features, an uncertainty in her stance, he desperately wished she'd answer with the same three words. He needed to hear them. What held her silent? A myriad of emotions flickered across her face before her muscles relaxed into a resolute stance. Clearly, she'd made a decision.
He knew now what that decision had been, but back then… Then he'd been the proverbial 'fool in love'. Then he'd actually believed she loved him back.
She leaned toward him and met his gaze with her own. "Be honest with me. Why are you here?"
He stared into the depths of those innocent brown eyes—past the sheen of a hard, crystal veneer she'd erected between them—and saw needs he could not ignore. She needed him to trust her. She needed him to tell her the truth.
And he did trust her.
His love was that blind.
"Okay." He sighed heavily. "I know you work for Domenic Cavaglione."
She sprang to her feet and strode away, her fists clenching and unclenching. "Is that why you're with me? To get to him?"
He bounded after her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he eased her around to face him.
"No, Angel. It's nothing like that. I didn't find the link until after we'd started dating. And by then I was convinced that you couldn't have anything to do with the dirty side of Cavaglione's business."
She turned and impaled him with her piercing glare. "So I was right. You are a Fed."
His breath caught deep in his lungs and his heart paused. He'd let his cover slip, something he'd never done before. Damn, but love could make a man crazy. Still, he was glad it was out. He wanted to tell her, wanted to convince her to leave her job and come back with him, to marry him.
"Yes, I'm a Federal agent."
She grabbed his arms, her expression fierce. "Frank, you've got to leave here, before someone else finds out. "
The vehemence of her reaction threw him off balance. For the first time, doubt cast a shadow across his rosy image of Angel. For the first time, he asked himself if she could be other than the innocent angel she appeared.
"Angel, what part do you play in Cavaglione's operation?"
"You have to trust me," she pleaded. "I know what Domenic's up to, but I can't tell you anything about it. It's too dangerous."
He wouldn't allow himself to believe anything negative about her. He stroked a curly lock of hair behind her ear, felt her tremble slightly. "Are you worried about retribution? Is that it? Come back with me. The Bureau will protect you. Give us something we can use to put Cavaglione away and we'll make sure you're safe."
She jerked away from him, as though his touch unsettled her. "Yeah, sure Frank."
As he stared at her back, longing to touch the cascade of black curls that failed to hide the stiffness of her spine, he knew she would never be completely safe after giving evidence against her boss. Suddenly, he knew he wouldn't allow her to take that chance.
"Then just walk away." He stepped forward and laid his hands on her shoulders, loving the feel of her soft hair caressing his fingers. "Tell him you want to quit, then come and marry me. If you don't testify against him, he won't bother you."
"I don't know, Frank. I've been a part of the family for a long time now."
Her voice had actually sounded doubtful, as though she were considering his proposal, as though she'd wanted to be convinced. My God, what an act she'd put on!
He brushed his lips across her temple. "You're not a criminal, Angel."
She turned to face him. "How do you know that?" Her voice, soft and desperate in its appeal, snagged at his heart. She looked like a starving kitten staring at a plate of food, afraid the offering would be snatched away at any moment.
He met her leery gaze with a steady reassurance. "Because I have faith in you."
Her defenses melted away and her wide doe eyes lost their crystal sheen. She took his hands in hers and squeezed them, emphasizing her words. "I want you to leave. Tonight. Now." She released his hands and turned away, her voice business-like as she continued. "In a week or so, I'll follow. I've…got some things I have to attend to before I can get away."
"Angel, tell me what's going to happen."
"No. You've got to trust my judgment on this."
"I'm not leaving."
He watched as she sucked in air through her teeth and clicked her tongue, considering her options.
"All right. At least tell me you've got backup."
"I…" He hesitated. "Yes, I do."
"Tell me how many and who they are." At his further hesitation she prodded. "If things get crazy, I want to know who to contact. We may need help." She stepped toward him. "I love you, Frank, and I don't want you to get hurt. I can make sure that doesn't happen, if I know who else is on your side."
She'd just told him she loved him, but at the same time asked the impossible. He held her firmly in front of him, staring directly into her eyes. "Angel, I trust you with my life, but…" He couldn't risk his partner. How could he tell her that?
"But what, Frank? You'll risk yourself to my questionable motives, but not your pals? What kind of trust is that?" She jerked out of his grasp and twirled away. "I don't believe in half and half! Good-bye, Frank."
"Wait!"
He couldn't let her go. He would have done anything to keep her. A weakness he still couldn't forgive.
She stopped and turned around t
o face him, her cheeks red and her mouth a straight, tense line.
"Angel, I didn't mean… It's just that… Oh, damn!"
He knew he had to go all the way with her. Either he believed in her or he didn't. She watched his face as though waiting for him to pass sentence.
He sighed. "All right."
He sat on the couch and told her the name of his partner and how to contact him.
She'd been a fabulous actress. Somehow the woman had insinuated herself into his heart and infiltrated the part of his brain that controlled common sense, cutting it off from the rest of his brain. He'd believed everything she'd told him. When Cavaglione's henchmen came storming in a few minutes after she'd gone, he'd worried about her safety more than his own. They'd questioned him with a persuasion that had left physical scars he still carried today. But none hurt as badly as the scars Angel had left—scars on his heart—and on his soul.
He glared out the window. The grey mists hung outside like a damp curtain. Damn the fog. It must be seeping into his brain.
* * *
Frank burst out of the office at five o'clock, unable to bear one more minute of reading dossiers and nosing through files. Dennis had wisely left him on his own, after piling heaps of reading material on his desk.
Now he needed to work the tension out of his system. He retrieved his exercise bag from his room and went to the hotel gym to put himself through a grueling workout designed to blank out his mind. Although his muscles ached with the strain, his thoughts still swirled around the raven-haired angel who was so ill-named.
Angel wasn't a member of the mob after all. Angel was an FBI agent. From everything he'd read, it seemed clear that she was a loyal agent. She'd brought too much damage to the family to doubt that. But was that still true? Or had she gone over to the mob for real now? Frank couldn't help but believe she had.
After showering and changing, he grabbed a quick dinner in a nearby deli, not savoring a bite since his stomach was still wrenched tight by his turbulent emotions. Damn. He couldn't even enjoy his dinner without thoughts of Angel interfering. He scowled and thumped his fist on the table, drawing a few stares from other diners.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 101
