Codename: Romeo (2 page)

She tightened her fingers around the full length of him. “What happens if Becker goes after the woman?”

With a groan, he ripped at the buttons of her white uniform and pushed her bra up. “That’s the idea.”

“I mean what if she gets hurt?”

“Better her than you,” he muttered before closing his mouth over her breast. He sucked the tip until her nipple was taut and throbbing. God, how she wanted him to take her so she wouldn’t have to think about what she’d done. Just let go and give into the physical release so she could obliterate the image of that trusting woman thanking her for the flower.

“You said no one would get hurt.”

His fingers slipped into her panties, finding the dampness between her legs. “Don’t get soft on me, babe.” He stroked the sensitive bud, the one spot that drove her wild. The erotic pulse point no other lover had discovered in her. Oh, yes, he knew how to distract her.

“Don’t get soft on me either.”

“Have I ever?” His conceit was not without merit. He could stay harder for longer than any man she’d known. She would miss this when she left, but not enough to stay. Once their business concluded, she wanted him out of her life. She could easily live without Eddie, but would she be able to live with herself?

* * * *

Victoria awoke to a host of unfamiliar noises. With a grunt, she snuggled deeper into the covers and tried to ignore the infernal racket coming from the street. Even after a night’s sleep, jetlag still wracked her body. An accident closed the highway last night, so her normal forty minute ride from the airport took over two hours. By the time she arrived home, she’d fallen into bed without changing her clothes.

A blast of cold air hit her when she threw back the down comforter. She’d forgotten to reset the thermostat upon her return. A hot cup of coffee would warm the chill and give her a much-needed shot of caffeine. She glanced out the window at the water company truck parked across the street and the two men working a machine that made an ungodly clanking sound. She crawled out of the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers.

On her way down the hall, the doorbell startled her. Who would be calling this early? She staggered across the living room and opened the door before she remembered her appearance. Her dress, completely wrinkled, hung limply on her body. Self-consciously she touched her hair, smoothing the tousled mass. She could only imagine what kind of a sight she made for the man standing on her porch.

Inhaling deeply, she tried to muster her dignity. “May I help you?”

His arresting blue eyes sparked with amusement. Crisp, khaki coveralls hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His wavy brown hair, tied in a ponytail, revealed deep chiseled features that would definitely get him a second look from most women.

His smile sent her pulse racing. “Water Authority, ma’am. We’re experiencing a problem in the area.” His deep voice touched like a tender caress. A tropical heat wave washed over her, caused in part by the quickening of her heart rate.

She shook her head. What was the matter with her? She’d never experienced such an intense reaction to a man before. Next she’d be having fantasies about the mailman. “Are you telling me I don’t have water?”

“Could be more serious. Your neighbors have complained that surges in water pressure caused their water pipes to break. Would it be all right if I checked your basement?”

The man did have an identification card pinned to his chest. Erik Sanders, employee of the Windsor Water Authority. Perhaps her short stint working in the defense industry left her wary, or maybe she possessed a naturally suspicious nature, but something told her Erik Sanders, striking blue eyes and all, posed a danger. Maybe not to her health, but certainly to her peace of mind.

“I don’t see how water surges could exert enough pressure to my water lines to cause a break in solid copper. More likely the old water main under the street would give way. Do you realize how many pounds of pressure those surges would have to exert?” She began mentally calculating.

“Have it your way, ma’am,” he said, looking slightly surprised and annoyed at the same time. “But if there is a problem, and you didn’t allow me to check, we can’t be held responsible for the damages.”

And if there wasn’t a problem, Victoria worried that he would manufacture one to stick her with a huge bill. Single women fell prey to con men every day. Last time she called a plumber, it cost her half a week’s paycheck just to fix a leaky faucet. “I’ll go have a look and if there’s a problem I’ll let you know.”

“When you test it, make sure you turn the water on slowly,” he called out through the storm door.

She ran down her basement stairs to the utility room. A cold draft gave her goose bumps. From the basket of folded laundry, she pulled a pair of brown slacks and a cream-colored cotton pullover. After a quick change, she inspected the pipes. Not that she knew what to look for, but everything seemed normal to her. Just to make sure, she flipped on a faucet.

Chapter Two

Erik rested his shoulder against a support beam while he waited for the expected result. A shriek, several colorful, yet very ladylike, exclamations, and one door banging later, he knew she’d finally tested the water. He grinned. “We’re in business,” he radioed to his partner.

He glanced at his identification tag. His cover as a water company employee got him into the main house. For a few seconds there, he wasn’t sure it would be enough.

Did she actually know how many pounds of pressure per square inch would blow a residential water line? Few people understood hydrodynamic formulas. She wouldn’t gain that kind of information watching Jeopardy. Daniels was running a check to see what the lady did, aside from transporting secrets around.

Moments later, Victoria returned to the living room, her huge brown eyes rounded in surprise and embarrassment. Water dripped from every inch of her and formed a pool around her feet. He ignored the passing flash of guilt. Perhaps he’d gone too far when he’d loosened those pipes in her basement this morning, but he had warned her to turn on the water slowly.

She opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. Her pullover clung strategically to her breasts, and her wet slacks molded to her long legs. Erik couldn’t decide which he liked more––her rolled-out-of-bed look or the wet-t-shirt look. Both made an impression on him. Quite a change from the prim, if somewhat klutzy, woman he’d staked out in the airport last night.

He grabbed his toolbox and stepped inside the tiled foyer. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to shut you down. Then I can check all the pipes throughout the house.”

“And how much is this going to cost me?” she asked while pushing the damp strands of hair back from her face.

“Nothing at all. The Water Authority will take care of everything. I told you, this is an area wide problem.”

A crystal chandelier above cast an ethereal light over her. Silver droplets rolled down her neck and throat, disappearing into the plunging V of her pullover weighted down with water. He shifted to relieve the tightening in his groin. His work brought him into contact with plenty of attractive women. Cunning, manipulative females who knew how to cash in on their assets. What made this one different? Apparently, he needed to get laid if this bedraggled, waterlogged suspect could turn him on.

She seemed unconvinced of his claim, but she shrugged and led him through the house. So she had a suspicious nature. He’d worry, too, if he were sitting on a disc containing illegally obtained, secret government research. Research worth millions to the right party … if the disc hadn’t been deliberately corrupted by the NSB before it left the bio-nuclear lab.

He followed Victoria down the hall. Her feet swished against the parquet floor. Water dripped off her clothes. She wrapped her arms around her trembling body. His gaze zeroed in on the soft sway of her hips as she moved gracefully in front of him. She was a wet dream in more ways than one.

Suddenly she slipped. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she ended up in a split that would do a high school cheerleader proud. He marveled at her amazing flexibility and thought fleetingly how she could use that kind of talent.

His pained groan echoed hers. He shook his head to clear the erotic thoughts and moved to help her.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, waving him off.

Although he tried to stop, he ended up hydroplaning on the slick water. To avoid her, he braced his hands against the wall. He wavered but remained upright. Damn. The woman was a jinx. He deserved hazard pay for this case.

She brought her legs together and scrambled to her feet. When she noticed the way the damp fabric of her shirt clung to her breasts, revealing her puckered nipples, she pulled at the material. Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. She shivered and folded her arms across her chest. How had a skittish woman like her gotten mixed up in Becker’s ring?

“The basement is down those steps,” she muttered, pointing to the staircase.

“I’ll have to shut your water down for a while.”

She rolled her shoulders in an indifferent shrug and walked gingerly towards the kitchen.

Erik picked up the tools and went down to the basement. Water gushed from the pipes. He flipped off the main valve before going to the utility room to check out the damages. His boss warned him to keep the destruction to a minimum. The department was still reeling from the Porsche that went up in flames on a previous case. His superiors found little consolation in the fact that Erik escaped with his life.

Before beginning, he fixed the window he’d jimmied that morning when he loosened the pipes. An inch of water covered the floor, and a few piles of her laundry got soaked. Otherwise, the room fared rather well. A few hours with a wet/vac should take care of the problem. How would he turn it into a two-day job? Becker was probably getting impatient for his disc. Within forty-eight hours he would come looking for Victoria Jansen.

He leaned against the wall and chuckled. Would he survive the next couple of days? She was the most unique suspect he’d ever dealt with. Her accident-prone personality didn’t jive with that of the corporate Mata Hari he’d expected to bring down. Perhaps Becker chose her for just that reason.

* * * *

Victoria flopped down on the sofa with a stack of tests in her lap. With classes over until after the Thanksgiving holiday, she needn’t rush, but it filled the time until her water returned. Heck, she couldn’t even make a cup of coffee.

Clanging noises filtered up from the basement. She shifted in her seat. Why did Erik Sanders’s presence make her so uneasy? She’d had workmen in her home before. Of course, none who looked like him.

She could only imagine what kind of impression she’d made on him. Her track record with men would not win her any prizes, but she generally waited until a first date before making a fool of herself. Unless the topic of conversation centered on physics, she came across awkward and shy. And the more attraction she felt towards a man, the more awkward she became. She recalled one unlucky date that’d wound up with several stitches. Over the years, Victoria realized it was safer for her ego and the health of the male population to steer clear of romantic situations.

So, why waste time daydreaming about the way the man in her basement filled out a pair of khakis? And the incredible shade of his eyes that turned the color of cobalt when he tried not to laugh at her? It just wasn’t practical, and Victoria was nothing if not practical.

She should have listened to Roger and gone on a bird watching expedition. Spending her vacation in Club Med, where relationships formed and changed with the tides, only intensified her painful shyness. Other than her one try at a tennis lesson, which ended when she accidentally struck the instructor with her racket, Victoria relegated herself to the role of spectator. Observing all those carefree couples must have corrupted her gray cells. Nothing else would explain her preoccupation with Erik Sanders.

She tucked the red pen behind her ear and grabbed the first test. The occasional banging of pipes prevented her from concentrating on the task. Mr. Sanders made his presence felt. How could she concentrate on mathematical equations while her mind kept drifting to the gorgeous man in her basement? She might as well lie back and enjoy her morning of fantasies.

* * * *

Erik quietly climbed the stairs and stepped into the living room, the gentle hum of the heating system the only sound in the room. Victoria slept like a baby on the leather sofa. She’d changed into a pair of black pants and a soft sweater that hugged her gentle curves. A stack of papers resting on her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic motion.

A smile played across her mouth as if she were enjoying a good dream. Her full lips formed a pout that begged to be kissed. In sleep, her expression radiated innocence. The female paradox—the face of an angel and the soul of the she-devil.

He stood next to the sofa and looked at the top page.

Fg=m1m2/d2.

Scribbled notes and a series of mathematical calculations followed beneath. He considered himself well-read, but this information was more technical than any he’d come across. With her fingers gripped tightly on the edges, he couldn’t slide the paper out to get a better look.

While she slept, he planted two listening devices, one in the living room and the other in the kitchen. He started down the hall towards the bedrooms, but she stirred, so he backed off. Eventually, he would find an excuse to make his way down there. He couldn’t afford to get caught entering her room without permission; anyone with something to hide would become suspicious. And he would bet the beguiling Victoria possessed many secrets. He needed to check in with his partner and see what the department had turned up on her.

Before leaving, he paused by the sofa again to watch her sleep. Her subtle brand of sensuality could knock a man for a loop before he realized what hit him. He reached out and removed her glasses, placing them on the stack of papers. She wriggled her upturned nose but didn’t wake. He longed to run his hand over the contours of her body and feel her tremble in response.