Undercover Heat

by LaBue, Danielle

  “You know, I was thinking maybe we should make the most out of this week.” She slid onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. “Do some catching up.”

  “You were, huh?”

  “Yeah and a small town girl like me needs an escort around the big city. I was hoping you could show me a good time.” The pitch of her voice rose to a chirp as she undid the knot of his tie. “I made a mental list of all the things I’d like to do. Want to hear it?”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Well, first I’d like to see a show or two. And I’d like to head to the ballet.”

  “I figured as much,” he said. “What else?”

  “I’d like to skate at Rockefeller Center, go to a Knicks game and...” She put a finger to her chin, as if she trying to remember. “Oh yeah, and I want to make love to the Sexiest Man Alive in the back of a stretch limo while driving through Central Park.”

  “That’s quite a list.” He teased, nuzzling the slope of her neck. “And I hope you have me in mind when you do that sex-through-Central-Park-thing.

  She released another buttons and smiled. “There’s never been anyone else.”

  After alerting the driver of their change in route, Ty pushed his fingers through her copper hair, letting the strands tangle between. Outside the tinted windows the city lights passed in blurs, shadowing her face in a gray-blue haze. Her signature scent of spring flowers and pure woman honed his every sense to razor sharp. This was need. An acute and constant craving for this one woman. He couldn’t control it and didn’t want to.

  He found the zipper on the back of her dress and slid the bodice down past her breasts. Now these were God’s version of perfect. Round and soft with eager nipples. He cupped them both, before taking one in his mouth.

  Her staccato heartbeat drummed in his ears, and he felt the cool heat on her dampened skin. He teased her with his tongue, and nibbled with his teeth. Good God, what the woman did to him. “I love how real you are, Carrie,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Everything about you is honest. I miss that.”

  To anyone else the words would be senseless, but they had always spoken a language all their own. Words were secondary to intuition and instinct. And the proof was in her kiss.

  She tasted like wine and just as intoxicating. Soft, yet obvious with desire. He deepened the kiss, searched her mouth with his tongue, and ran his palms over her bare back. With the dexterity of a driven man, he gathered the fabric of her dress and hoisted it over her head. He tossed it on the seat beside them, and her black lace panties soon followed.

  New York City passed before them in oblivion and faded when they reached the park. Minutes passed in seconds, and soon his clothes were cast on top of hers. She wrapped around him like a ribbon of warmth, drawing him close and holding him tight. He kissed her belly, easing lower, wanting to taste her, drink her. His lips trailed down the inside of her thigh, and she tensed with anticipation.

  He brought his mouth to her. She gasped at the sudden contact. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him further, until she panted and moaned his name. Carrie had always been a responsive lover, each touch, each kiss an encounter all its own. This was Carrie in her rawest form. Open, unguarded. His. No woman turned him on like Carrie. It was true back then, and good Lord it was still true now.

  He reached up and stroked her breast, teasing the nipple the way he knew she liked. Again she responded with a blissful whimper, quivering like a tuning fork underneath him. Her excitement fueled his, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside her. Now.

  After slipping on a condom, he entered her with a force he had not intended. His arousal so intense and so urgent, that somehow it didn’t seem fast or deep enough. She met him thrust for thrust, lifting herself to him, dragging her nails hungrily down his back. She kissed him. Deep and long, and so much without restraint, that the knowledge alone was enough to make him come. This was his Carrie. The sensitive soul who didn’t relinquish control easily, but in his arms she surrendered.

  He came hard, his body convulsed with crippling force. He held her tight, taking her with him, giving her everything he had left, and wishing he could offer more.

  ***

  Carrie was pleased that her legs still worked when she pushed herself out of the limousine. Her face burned with the friction of Ty’s stubble, and a quick glance told her that he now wore more lipstick than she did. Any idiot could tell what they’d been doing behind those tinted windows. Thankfully, there was nobody on the side walk willing to make it a Kodak moment.

  “You could at least tuck your shirt tails in,” she grumbled, as they shuffled across the sidewalk to the Waldorf entrance. “Goodness, you’ve gotten sloppy. Discretion used to be one of our best assets.”

  “Now it’s apathy. For me anyway.” He lowered his head as they came through the door and slipped the room key into her palm. “You head upstairs first, and I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  “Oh my God, you’re here! Thank you, Lord Jesus.” Manny pounced on them from behind the pay phones. His spiked hair and fresh shaven face indicated he was ready for a night out, but the panic in his eyes looked like he wished it was already over.

  “Hey pal.” Ty slapped him on the shoulder. “How was the skiing?”

  “Don’t you people ever answer your cell phones? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

  Ty looked at Carrie then back at Manny. “Why, is there a problem?”

  “You could say that.” He turned to Carrie. “Your father is here.”

  “What?” Carrie grabbed the two men by the arm and dragged them to the corner near the coat room. “What do you mean here? Like in New York?”

  “No, like here at the Waldorf,” Manny said. “Lizzie left me a message at the ski hill. Said your family had a change of plans, and instead of having dinner tomorrow, they came to the city tonight. They left you a message at your hotel. Your father wanted to see you, I guess.”

  “What the hell are they doing here?” Ty asked. “Her room is at the Plaza.”

  “I don’t know. Lizzie mentioned she was meeting up with some of her old friends.”

  “Yeah,” Carrie said. “She used to work here, back when I was still with the Ballet.”

  “I had a feeling since Ty was staying here, you’d be with him.” Manny raised a brow in insinuation. “I didn’t think you’d want your father to see you two together.”

  “I appreciate that.” Carrie stood on her tip-toes and looked past the men into the lounge. Her sister and Russ stood at the end of the bar, with a small group of people surrounding them. Over their shoulders, she could make out the silver tuft of feathered hair. She took a breath when he turned around. Sure enough it was her father.

  “It’s almost nine o’clock,” Carrie said. “They haven’t eaten yet?”

  “I think they’re waiting for you.”

  That sounded about right. Her father had been uptight about this stint in New York the minute she told him she agreed to it. He told Carrie he’d treat the family to dinner and keep her company for a night. Of course, she couldn’t suggest otherwise. It was better just to let Daddy have his way than sit through one of his sermons.

  She brushed her hair behind her ear and smoothed her hand over her dress. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said. “You two get out of here, and I’ll tell them I was late checking in, and I just got the message. I’ll see both of you at the interview tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  The disappointment in Ty’s voice made her smile. “It looks like Manny has plans for the two of you. Go out and have fun.”

  “But Carrie Ann-”

  “Manny, keep an eye on him.” Carrie reached up and rubbed a smear of pink lipstick off Ty’s cheek. “Stay out of trouble.”

  She spun on her heels and headed across the lobby to the lounge. If she had a minute to spare, she’d duck into the ladies room and fix herself up a little. She was sticky in all the wrong places,
God only knew if her dress was zipped up all the way, and her hair was unfastened on one side. She brushed it back as best she could on her way into the bar. Thank God, the place was dimly lit. The beard burn she sported would be less obvious.

  She raised her chin and approached the group huddled around the baby grand piano. A yuppie crowd, all dressed in trendy black. Not the usual company her family kept. Carrie recognized most as Lizzie’s former co-workers. She sat among them, sipping fruit juice while Russ stood over her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Carrie Ann!” Lizzie waved and motioned her over to the crowd. She hugged and shook hands with the vaguely familiar faces, before taking the white wine her brother-in-law handed her.

  “Sweetheart, we’ve been waiting for you.”

  Carrie tensed at the familiar voice. When she turned, her father stood beside her, with a martini on the rocks in his hand. “Daddy!” she said with a dutiful smile. “I just got the message you were here. What a surprise.”

  He hugged her with rigid arms and gave her a tight-lipped once over. “I’m glad you got our message. I tried you on your cell phone. I told you when you’re in the city, it would make me feel better if I could reach you at all times.”

  “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now,” Lizzie said, raising her glass in toast. “I’m starving. How about we sit down and eat?”

  To say she had already eaten would require further explanation. So instead, she smiled and raised her glass in an awkward toast. “Sounds good. It’s been a while since I’ve had dinner in New York.”

  The rest of the group said their goodbyes, before the hostess seated her family in the dining room. Lizzie and Russ pulled out chairs on either side of her, and her father sat directly across. They ordered right away, and Carrie made sure it was something substantial. She was too preoccupied with the whereabouts of her underwear, to adequately defend a side salad and lemon ice water.

  “So Daddy, I’m so glad you were able to make it home early,” Lizzie said, digging into her roast beef. “Dinner at the Waldorf is quite a treat.”

  He folded his napkin in his lap, as the waitress served him his meal. “I left Father Breen in charge of the Vermont retreat for a few days. It’s hard to keep your mind on your work when you’re worried about what’s going on at home.”

  “There’s nothing to be worried about Daddy.” Lizzie took Russ’s hand. “We all take care of each other.”

  “Well, it was ill timed to go away when I did.”

  “Don’t worry,” her sister said, grabbing a roll from the basket in front of her. “Carrie is ready to open in a week or so, and Russ won’t have to travel again until after the baby’s born.”

  “Well we certainly are blessed aren’t we?” The Deacon raised his champagne glass in a toast then took a small sip. Carrie followed with the rest of them but took a bigger gulp. “Carrie dear, not so much now. That stuff goes right to your head. I’m already uneasy about you being in the city by yourself, and I’d rather you have all your wits about you.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Liz kicked her under the table. Carrie had come to understand that her father considered The Big Apple a reference to the evil offering in the Garden of Eden, and she was the weak-willed victim hungry enough to take a bite.

  “Carrie Ann, how did your engagements go today? Elizabeth told me you had a few interviews and things. I was going to call you, but she told me I was being over protective.”

  Carrie eyed Lizzie before she answered him. “Everything went fine. Earl was great company.”

  “It looks like Earl took you shopping too,” Lizzie said. “You look beautiful all dressed up.”

  “It looks a little drafty to me.” Her father raised a brow. “I suppose you’ll tell me this is part of your crazy job this week.”

  Carrie assessed her father, and Russ’s conservative dinner suits, and Lizzie’s plain black maternity dress. She did look a little over the top for her present company. “Yes, well I guess it comes with the territory.”

  “And that necklace.” Lizzie leaned over to get a better look. “It’s gorgeous.”

  Carrie reached up and skimmed her fingers over the cool stones. “It’s on loan from one of the jewelers here,” she quickly explained. “I wore it in a photo shoot today, and I wasn’t ready to part with it yet.”

  “They let you walk around with that on?” Lizzie asked. “You could feed a small country with what that’s worth.”

  “Carrie, you do know self-indulgence like that is a sin, don’t you?” The Deacon pulled the napkin from his lap and dabbed the corners of his mouth.

  “Which is why I will be returning it in the morning, Daddy.” It was nice to know her improvisational skills were still intact. She took a sip of water and nibbled on an ice cube. “I have that big interview with ‘The Olivia Show’ tomorrow.” She braced herself for the obvious question.

  “Has that Hollister character been keeping his distance?”

  In unison, Russ reached for his champagne and Lizzie reached for her juice. Over the rims of their glasses, Carrie could tell by their wide eyes that they were as interested in her answer as her father was. “Well actually, it’s funny you bring him up.” She picked up her fork and pushed the rice around her plate. “Mostly our appearances have been separate, but given what I signed on for, yes our paths have crossed.”

  “It makes me sick to even think of you in the same room as him.” Her father shook his head in disgust. “Are you sure this whole press thing is a good idea. You can back out if you want.”

  “Daddy, I gave them my word. And besides you know I need the money.”

  “I don’t care about the money. What I care about is you being influenced by a man like that.”

  “He’s not an influence on me, good or bad.” She glanced at Lizzie beside her, hoping she’d offer a little help. But she was silent, more interested in the left over mashed potatoes still piled on Russ’s plate.

  “Carrie Ann, I know you’re a grown woman, and I’ve always supported your decisions, even if I didn’t approve of them. But I thought you learned your lesson. A woman like you thrives on living a simple life. God has a master plan for you. Your calling is taking care of people. Look at the success you’ve made of the Inn.”

  “I know. Thank you, but-”

  “That Hollister is an operator.” He waved his knife in the air, as if making a point. “Just because I don’t have access to a television most of the time doesn’t mean I’m not aware of his reputation. He took advantage of your goodness.”

  “That’s not how it happened.”

  “What happened is that letch left you unmarried, pregnant and sick in a hospital a hundred miles from home, and the rest of us had to pick up the pieces. Don’t you remember the hell you went through?”

  Heads turned from a few tables over. He took a deep breath, and went back to cutting his meat. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just glad you won’t have to see him anymore. And that’s all I have to say about that.”

  She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t Ty who made her sick. It was a lifetime of striving for perfection, and realizing there was no such thing, and the agony of learning that lesson in front of millions of people. “Ty came up to Middle Valley last week. He spent a few days there.”

  The Deacon dropped his fork to his plate, and Lizzie bit down hard on an ice cube. Russ just shook his head then shoved a bite of steak in his mouth.

  “Don’t tell me he’s badgering you.”

  “He’s not badgering. He came up, and I let him stay.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Elizabeth, you allowed this? You know how vulnerable your sister is.”

  “I know Daddy. She wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Carrie yelled, turning the heads of the diners at the next table. “Look, I know that I have a lot to be angry at Ty about, but there is a part of me that needs to forgive him. Isn’t that what the Bible says? That the tr
ue sign of a person’s strength is their capacity to forgive?”

  “There’s a difference between forgiving and forgetting.” The Deacon clenched his teeth, and a vein pulsed in his forehead. Carrie had never seen her father truly lose his temper, but the times he came close were directly related to Ty.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “But I love you too much for you to get hurt again. I only have your best interest at heart.”

  “I know.” She stared at her uneaten food. And was suddenly reduced to her familiar role as unfortunate victim. The one who always needed to prove herself. The dreamer. The pretty face with the simple mind, who got obligatory smiles and polite headshakes when she shared an idea or opinion. The one who mattered only when the situation was perfect.

  When she was perfect.

  She dropped her napkin to her plate and shoved the food away.

  Lizzie looked at her and picked up her fork. “Carrie Ann, you can’t possibly be finished. You haven’t touched anything.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe it, if I said I already ate. Listen, I’m tired, and I think I’m going to take advantage of my room at the Plaza and get a good night sleep.”

  Heads turned as she stormed out of the dining room, in recognition or curiosity she wasn’t sure, and at that moment she didn’t care. Her things were still in Ty’s suite, but she’d figure that out in the morning. Right now, she was much more concerned about getting the hell out of there.

  Frozen drizzle whipped around her in a gust, when she stepped out to the curb. Not the best night to stand outside in a strapless dress. The seemingly sympathetic doorman rushed over and hailed her a cab, but before she could get in, someone grabbed her by the shoulder.