by Marcia James
Domino, refusing to sink to his level, met his gaze without blinking. “You believe whatever it is you need to, Meyers, to shore up your fragile male ego.”
That wiped the fake smile off his face, she noted with satisfaction. But the scowl that replaced it was much worse.
“If he found out, I doubt Lowery would think it’s very professional—you screwing a cop on this case,” he warned.
The agent waited to see if his threat would hit the mark. Dom considered how much Sam Lowery’s opinion mattered to her and the promotion she’d been chasing. Then she thought of Dalton.
“Well, partner,” Domino coated the word with all the disdain she felt for Meyers as she opened the front door, “you better run along and tattle.”
Meyers flipped her the bird—a new low even for him—and stalked out. Dom locked the door after him. Damn. She’d known the agent was interested in her sexually and had been long before Dalton had entered the picture. But she’d never given Meyers the slightest encouragement. Apparently however, she was about to pay for her disinterest in the jerk.
She waited for panic to begin at the thought of her promotion being torpedoed. But it never appeared. Somehow during this crazy case, she’d developed a kind of fatalistic view of things. Besides, she could count on Lowery playing fair with her. Other than that, what would be, would be.
With a smile and a new feeling of confidence, she headed to the kitchen. Maybe she’d whip up some pancakes to go with Dalton’s bacon and eggs.
Chapter Twenty
Calvin slipped off Vania’s massage table, ignoring her sly grin, and walked to the dressing area. Man, he’d thought Ilona’s hands had been distasteful but Vania’s bony fingers made his skin crawl. He’d never disobeyed an order before but he’d almost told his boss to stuff it when the man had insisted Calvin return to the club to plant more misinformation.
Once behind the screen, he grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his body to remove the massage oil and the lingering feeling of Vania’s touch. Apparently his boss hadn’t been satisfied with Calvin feeding a false government secret to Ilona. Given the unprecedented cooperation between the FBI and other agencies on this project, his boss had insisted on hedging their bets. He’d directed Calvin to pass along another piece of misinformation to Vania. The more balls in play, his boss had said, the more home runs they’d score.
“And the more glory for you,” Calvin grumbled, wishing he reported to a man less focused on his own ambitions.
Well, it was done. He tossed aside his towel wrap and stepped into his pants. Calvin had allowed Vania to wheedle the fake secret out of him and now he had no reason to return to the club. Unbidden, the image of Suzi came to mind. Was she working that evening? Her massage room was two doors down and he hadn’t seen her for three days.
Calvin pulled his Cornell sweatshirt over his head. The last time he’d seen Suzi had been before his appointment with Ilona. And he could still see the look of pained disappointment she’d given him for choosing the Slavic masseuse over her.
Sighing, he sat on the padded chair and put on his socks and athletic shoes. It was pathetic how much he longed to tell Suzi the truth about his assignment. Maybe once everything was wrapped up… Ah, he was just deluding himself.
Shrugging into his coat, he walked around the partition. Vania opened the door to the hallway with a feral smile. Even across the room, her unpleasant floral cologne overwhelmed the scent of the massage oil. She’d tried to talk him into a happy ending but Calvin had begged off, saying he was too tired.
“Next time I see you, I make it more,” she fumbled for a word, “pleasing, okay? More satisfying.”
“Sure,” he answered. The next time he saw her would be when the FBI raided the club. And arresting her bony butt would definitely be satisfying.
Stepping into the hall, he glanced at Suzi’s massage room. The door stood ajar. Was she inside? Damn, he wanted to see her, so much it scared the hell out of him.
Suzi rounded the corner from the supply cabinet, her arms full of towels. Usually she stocked her room when she first arrived but she was running behind this evening. A man with his back turned toward her stood blocking the hallway several yards ahead. It was Calvin. She stopped so abruptly she almost spilled her stacked towels. Vania, who was lounging in the doorway to her room, shot her a triumphant look that left no doubt as to where Calvin had spent the last hour.
Suzi fumed with atypical bitterness. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could talk Vania and Ilona into a sexual sandwich. She was immediately embarrassed by the bitchy thought. Calvin didn’t want her, so get over it.
Masking her jealousy, Suzi continued down the hall. “Good evening.” She passed him on her way to her room.
“Suzi.” Calvin looked a little stunned. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Suzi lied, meeting his eyes then looking away. “Just running a little behind. So please excuse me.”
She turned to go but he caught her arm. At his touch, she froze and stared at his hand until he removed it.
“I was hoping we could talk,” Calvin said, his voice low to stymie Vania’s eavesdropping. “I need to explain.”
After a hesitation, Suzi nodded. Then without waiting to see if he followed, she walked to her massage room. Once inside, Suzi laid the towels on the table and faced him.
“Calvin,” she jumped in before he could speak, “you come here for massages, it doesn’t matter who gives them. Unless of course, you’re looking for a more extensive massage than I give.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she plowed on. “Maybe Ilona and Vania are more stimulating masseuses.”
There was anger in his gaze now and frustration too. “You think I let them—” he began.
“I don’t think anything because it’s none of my business,” she snapped. “You were my client. Now you’re theirs.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Calvin ground out.
“Yeah? How?” Suzi demanded, knowing the whole conversation was surreal. Calvin owed her nothing, not faithfulness, not customer loyalty and certainly not an explanation.
She watched him open his mouth and then clamp it shut. His hands curled into fists and he made a noise like a growl.
“This is crazy,” he railed. “You’re acting jealous.”
“You’re nuts,” she shot back, poking her finger against his hard chest. He’d hit the nail on the head, but she was pissed.
Calvin leaned toward her but she refused to back away. He bit out the words between clenched teeth. “Nothing happened with Ilona or Vania. No happy endings, nothing.”
“Hey, it’s a free country,” she answered with flippant nonchalance. “You can do whatever you want.”
“All right, I will.”
He grabbed Suzi by her waist and dragged her against him. She barely had time to gasp before he took her mouth rough and demanding. She could taste his anger but there was also hunger, a hunger so strong it made her heart lurch. He needs me. And, God help her, Suzi wanted to offer him everything.
Sandalwood massage oil lingered on his skin, but underneath was the hot, male scent of Calvin. His talented tongue drove into her mouth in a sexual rhythm that had her pulse thundering in her ears. Desperate for more, she reached for him, a solid anchor in the emotional maelstrom. At her touch, he released her so abruptly she staggered against the massage table. Then he stormed out of the room without a backward glance.
Confused, Suzi glared after him. What the hell just happened? If he didn’t want her, why was he messing with her mind? But it wasn’t her head that ached, she realized. Damn him. Suzi pressed her hand to her chest, feeling as if he’d worked her heart over with a rubber hose.
* * * * *
Calvin stalked into his home, still cursing himself for a fool. He should never have kissed Suzi. Now that he’d tasted her, had held her in his arms, knowing he couldn’t have her was pure hell. Hanging his coat on a hook, he looked around for a distraction. The light on his old answering machine puls
ed red.
Walking to the foyer table, he pushed the machine’s playback button. The pleasant sound of his mother-in-law’s voice filled the empty condo. “Calvin, dear, we haven’t heard from you in ages.” Estelle Miller’s concern rang clear in her recorded words. “I hope you’re well and eating right.”
Calvin smiled at her maternal preoccupation with his dining habits, as his mother-in-law continued. “We’d love for you to come to supper. Maybe Sunday, if you’re in town? And if you’re seeing anyone, please bring her too.”
Estelle and Bill Miller had shared Calvin’s bone-deep grief when their daughter Pam had passed away. More demonstrative than Calvin’s reserved parents, the Millers had taken their son-in-law into their hearts and treated him as one of their own. Now, three years later, they wanted him to be happy and often urged him to date and someday remarry.
“If you stay a hermit, how can you give us grandbabies?” Estelle’s voice teased from the machine. “Call us.”
The recording ended and with a sigh Calvin hit the erase button. He’d call them in the morning and maybe the next time they got together, he’d try again to explain his disinterest in dating. He glanced down at the wedding band he’d slipped back onto his finger on the drive home. His parents-in-law were being kind but he wasn’t ready to take that step right now, if ever. For Calvin, his work was his life.
Thoughts of his latest investigation led back to memories of Suzi. Frowning, Calvin walked to his bedroom and clicked on the bedside lamp. Stripping down to his briefs, he stepped into a threadbare pair of sweatpants from his football days. Then he slid between the flannel sheets, trying not to notice how large and lonely his king-sized bed seemed.
After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, Calvin turned on his side and looked at the photo of his wife on the nightstand. Pam had been so serene, so sweet. She would have been a great mother for those grandchildren Estelle wanted. Calvin felt the familiar ache in his chest at the thought of the children Pam and he would never have.
Next to Pam’s photo was an aromatherapy candle Estelle had given him, promising it would chase away fatigue and stress. He’d never used it but this evening he opened the nightstand drawer and fished around until he found a matchbook. Then feeling foolish, he lit the candle, which was housed in a safety container for worry-free burning.
Turning out his lamp, Calvin rolled onto his back once again. The stimulating scent of jasmine filled the air, reminding him of Suzi and their last massage session. Damn. No matter what he did, he was reminded of the sexy masseuse. Well, after this evening—after the way he’d jumped her and then left—he doubted she’d want to have anything more to do with him. But, since dating Suzi wasn’t an option, that was a good thing, right? Then why did he feel so bad?
With a groan, Calvin practiced the self-hypnosis he’d learned in survival training and soon drifted in that haze between wakefulness and sleep. Dreaming in color as he always did, Calvin saw himself steer his car up the driveway to an ivy-covered brick colonial. It was the type of home Pam and he had saved for, close to his office but large enough for a family.
In his dream image, the summer night was warm and filled with the perfume of honeysuckle. And the fireflies were just emerging, little flashes of light in the dusk. He parked the car and got out as the front door of the house swung open.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Two small children charged from the house, thrilled he was home. His wife, silhouetted in the doorway, waved in greeting.
His little girl, a five-year-old charmer, and his rough-and-tumble seven-year-old son slammed into his legs, wrapping their arms around his calves. Laughing, Calvin crouched and gathered them into a hug. Getting noisy, damp kisses on his cheeks for his effort, he leaned back to smile at his children. The love in their faces took his breath away. Sparkling with excitement, their eyes were dark and exotic…and familiar.
He looked toward the house, as his wife stepped into the glow of the porch light. It was Suzi. And she smiled in welcome.
Calvin jerked fully awake, the shock of the dream kicking his pulse into overdrive. It’d been so real. And for a few unguarded seconds, his heart longed for what couldn’t be. Ever. He corralled his emotions behind a mental barrier…the one that allowed him to function every day he lived without Pam. Then Calvin blew out the candle and tried to sleep, willing himself not to dream.
* * * * *
Domino shimmered with anticipation as she waited for her garage door to open. Knowing she was about to see Dalton made up for the parade of bizarre customers she’d had that evening. What was it about Saturday nights that stirred up the crazies? If the sky wasn’t full of snow clouds, she’d check for a full moon. But she was already forgetting the kinky appointments as she pulled her car into her garage.
Coming home each night to the sexy detective was becoming addicting. Nothing in her previous experiences had prepared her for the lovemaking they shared. She’d always equated sex with being vulnerable, an idea that had contributed to her unsuccessful past relationships. But thanks to Dalton, she’d learned that with the right partner, sex was about mutual and non-threatening vulnerability—and a hell of a lot of fun.
Hurrying out of her car, she unlocked the door to her house and stepped into the mudroom. The shade covering the window in her back door was pulled down as was, she knew, every other shade in the house. If anyone from the club were watching her place, they couldn’t be allowed to spot Dalton.
“Honey, I’m home!” she called in a credible Ricky Ricardo accent as she walked into her kitchen.
Dalton strolled in from the living room, his smile warm and his eyes dancing. “If it isn’t the little woman,” he teased. “Come here and give me a kiss.”
With a laugh, she launched herself into his arms. They kissed as if they’d been separated for years instead of hours. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. For a brief moment they came up for air and then she kissed him again for all she was worth.
“Ouch. I think my eyeballs are scorched.”
The female voice penetrated Dom’s mind, making her gasp. She looked over Dalton’s shoulder to see Suzi Cho standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. The female cop’s face was amused but her eyes revealed envy.
“Did I forget to say we have company?” Dalton asked.
“Put me down,” Domino hissed, blushing and straightening her clothes once he set her back on her feet.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Suzi walked into the kitchen and claimed one of the chairs. “But the sooner we talk, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I didn’t see your car.” Dom’s mind was still muzzy with desire. “It’s hard to miss that lime green Honda.”
“I parked on the street behind yours and cut through the back like Bull here,” Suzi gestured to Dalton.
“‘Bull’?” Dom smiled.
“Don’t ask,” he said. “Can I get you ladies a drink?”
“Beer for me,” Suzi said.
“Ditto,” Domino chimed.
Seating herself at the table with Suzi, Dom watched Dalton play the host in her house. He looked so comfortable here, and the thought gave her a warm, embarrassingly mushy feeling. What would it be like to come home every night to Dalton?
After delivering their beer bottles, Dalton grabbed one for himself and sat beside them. “To a quick and satisfying end to this case.” Dalton raised his beer.
Dom and Suzi joined him in the toast and they each took a swallow of beer before getting down to business.
“I want to go on record saying I do not like your new plan.” Dalton looked at Suzi. “You’re a good friend and I hate like hell putting you in danger.”
“It’s not like we have a lot of options,” Suzi said. “Besides, I’m getting tendonitis giving all those massages.”
“Smart-ass,” Dalton groused, but he shot her a smile. “Well, I got word today Captain Bennett and Dom’s boss Sam Lowery have signed off on your plan
. It’s a go.”
“When do we take the first step?” Domino asked.
Dalton considered. “Tomorrow’s Sunday and you’re both off work, right?” They nodded. “On Monday Cho and I will meet for lunch. How ’bout the Arlington McDonald’s on Route 50 at noon?”
“Sure,” Suzi said.
“Dom, you’ll come by and discover us there—without us noticing you, of course,” Dalton explained with a wink. “Then you’ll run and tell Salvi.”
“Dominatrix and tattletale,” Dom joked. “I always get the glamour jobs.”
Dalton grinned at her and she knew from the wicked glint in his eyes, he was thinking of his sessions with Mistress Bella. Blushing, she tried to refocus the conversation. “If it goes as we expect, Salvi will ask me to watch Suzi, instead of taking any action against her.”
“Yes,” Dalton agreed, his face suddenly grim. “But if Salvi shows any sign of going in a different direction—”
“Like feeding me to his Doberman?” Suzi teased.
“Don’t joke,” Dalton said. “Salvi’s as cold-blooded as they come.”
Suzi nodded, somewhat subdued.
Dalton turned to Dom. “If Salvi looks prepared to hurt Cho, phone in a text message to Meyers. We’ll keep her safe. Meyers knows the plan and will be waiting to hear from you.”
“Okay,” Dom said. “And once we’ve blown Suzi’s cover, when will we take down Salvi?”
Something sparked in Dalton’s eyes and Dom was reminded of how much he needed this revenge for his partner.
“Next Thursday night, you’ll ‘overhear’ Cho making a call on her cell phone in the employee parking lot,” Dalton said. “That’s when you’ll inform Salvi about her supposed meeting with a snitch from the Cabazone family.”
“And when’s the meeting scheduled?” Suzi asked.
“If everything happens as planned, it’ll be next Saturday,” Dalton answered.
