Codename: Romeo (22 page)

“Did you check your pocket? That’s where you left them last time.”

The old lady patted her pocket and smiled a toothless grin. “You’re right, Lanie. Thanks, you’re such a sweetheart.”

Elaine helped the woman to a seat at a table. Her patience impressed Steven. He wouldn’t have thought the woman had it in her.

“Why aren’t you out with a handsome man instead of stuck here with us?” Mrs. Watson asked.

“My last handsome man is the reason I’m here today,” Elaine said without bitterness.

Steven watched the exchange from the opposite side of the room. He had to admit, although not without a fair amount of resentment, that Sanders was right about Elaine too. She wasn’t the criminal type, but she would have rather done jail time than give up her accomplice. On her way back to the serving table, she caught sight of him. Her smile faded.

“Mr. DeMarco. Are you checking up on me?”

“Just checking in.”

She shrugged indifferently. “I’m the one who has to check in. With my probation officer. Which I do.”

He slid his hands into his pockets and walked towards her. “I know. I just came from seeing Victoria. She asked me to stop by and say hello. I told her I would.”

The mention of his sister put the light back in her eyes. Victoria had done Elaine a huge favor. The district attorney pleaded her case down to a misdemeanor because Victoria hinted that being an absent-minded professor, she might have a memory problem if it came down to a trial. Payback, she’d called it. In her own way, Elaine had protected Victoria by setting herself up to get caught.

“How’s she doing?”

“Not bad, considering.”

“Considering what I did to her?” she finished for him.

Incorrectly, he thought. “No. Considering she resigned from her teaching position before she had another job lined up. She plans to go back into research.”

“Good for her. You know, I actually bought her book.”

“What did you think of it?”

“I didn’t understand a word,” she said honestly. “But it looks impressive on the coffee table.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. I don’t understand it either. It’s an academic book for physicists.”

“Oh, good. I thought I was just stupid.” A long pause lingered. “I have to get back to work.”

“I thought you might like to have dinner later.”

“With you?”

He wasn’t sure if he heard surprise or disgust in her pitched voice. He exhaled a groan. “I wouldn’t invite you to go someplace by yourself.”

“I thought you guys from the agency weren’t supposed to associate with felons.”

“Since you weren’t convicted of a felony, you aren’t a felon.”

“Well, I’m not the flying nun either.”

Damn, the woman was infuriating. Couldn’t she give him a straight answer? “Do you want to have dinner or don’t you?”

She threw her arm dramatically across her chest. The bells jingled. “How could a girl refuse such a sensitive invitation?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steven grumbled. “Oh, and wear the bracelet. It will help me keep track of you.”

“Why? Are you expecting me to skip out halfway through the meal?”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Hey, I might not be smart enough to understand quantum physics, but I’m not dumb enough to skip out on a free meal.”

He shook his head. “I’m going to have to tell my genius sister that she was wrong about you.”

“What did she say?”

“She thought you were interested in me.” He turned and headed for the exit. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“DeMarco?”

He stopped and turned back at the door.

Her expression softened. “She wasn’t wrong.”

* * * *

Victoria strode down the crowded street at a brisk pace. With only two days left until Christmas, the Bostonians rushed around doing last minute shopping. Outside her hotel, a sidewalk Santa clanged his bells. Her first inclination was to cross the street, but she refused to allow her run-in with Becker make her afraid of a childhood icon. She pulled a five dollar bill from her pocket and dropped it in the collection pot.

“Bless you, dear. You’ve been a very good girl, I can tell, so I’m sure you’ll be getting a very special gift this year.”

She had been a very good girl the past month, but she’d had a lot more fun when she’d been a bad girl. She walked though the spinning door and into the lobby. A large tree shimmered with colored lights. She checked for messages then took the elevator to her fifth floor room. After her long day, she just wanted to get to her room to kick off her heels. So naturally, her first try with the card-key didn’t work.

She hated job interviews. Not the series of interrogations from six different department heads. Not the endless questions about past experiences that needed answers vague enough to protect the secrecy of the research, yet specific enough to make her sound competent. The worst part was the uncomfortable business suit and tight shoes. If she could survive that, she could handle anything.

Two days and six interviews later, they made her an offer to head up a project for a communications satellite. She would have full backing from the Institute of Technology and students who were actually interested in what she could teach them. In fact, everything she’d envisioned her career would be.

She swiped the key through the lock again, and the door clicked open. As she stepped inside, she bumped into a room service tray.

“Damn.” She reached for the wall switch behind her, and the room flooded with light.

Another awkward accident, and Erik wasn’t even around. Her preoccupation with him must be responsible, she decided. She slipped off her shoes and wriggled her toes into the plush carpet. Relief at last. She glanced at the tray. A silver ice bucket held a bottle of champagne. A small card with “Codename: Romeo—congratulations” written in bold letters rested on the white linen tablecloth.

Steven, with all his connections, must have known she’d gotten the job five minutes after they made the offer. She checked out the label. Her brother sprang for the good stuff. She grinned. If he knew how much they offered, he would have charged it to her room.

She removed her suit jacket and draped it over a chair then reached for the bottle. Bubbly named for an old French monk. No matter how expensive the champagne, it was a poor substitute for how she wanted to celebrate. She shrugged her shoulders and removed the foil covering. Why not? She had something in common with the monk. She wasn’t getting any sex either. With a loud pop, the cork flew across the sitting area and into the bedroom.

A grunt echoed around the room.

Air rushed from her lungs. She backed herself against the wall and desperately reached for the door handle. Champagne spilled over the top of the bottle and trickled over her fingers. She tightened her grip on the glass.

“I knew you’d be mad at me but I didn’t think you’d be violent.”

“Erik?” Her voice was barely a whisper. She sucked in a large breath. Her pulse raced out of control.

He stepped out of the bedroom holding the cork in his hand. His sexy grin did nothing to slow the rapid cadence of her heart. “You said your door would always be open. I had to get the manager to let me in. If not for my agency ID, I’d still be sitting in the hall.”

“Erik?” Was she dreaming? No, she still felt the pain in her leg where she’d bumped into the tray.

She stared at him, still unwilling to believe her eyes. When the sidewalk Santa promised her a special treat this year, she’d laughed it off. But here he was, the only gift she wanted, standing less than ten feet away.

“How long are you here for?” she asked.

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “Anxious to get rid of me?”

“I just want to know if I should make it fast or make it last.” She crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck. The bottle of champagne, still in her hand, rained down over the two of them.

He laughed. “Hey, that was expensive stuff.”

“I’ll lick it off you.” She flicked her tongue across his lips, tasting champagne, tasting him. He felt so damn good.

“Tori, you’re supposed to make this hard on me.”

She put the bottle on the writing table and reached for his belt buckle. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

“Although I like your literal translation, I meant you were supposed to make my life difficult for not calling you the past month.”

She shook her head. “I told you. No questions, no explanations.”

Erik took hold of her hands and turned to pin her back to the wall. “Maybe I want to explain.”

* * * *

Despite the offer she made their last night together, he hadn’t expected this kind of reception. By now, he should know her better. She spoke her mind and she didn’t play games.

“All right. Explain, but make it snappy. Thirty days is too long to be without you.”

On that point he agreed. Expressing himself in words had never come easy. He was a man of action. But if he didn’t talk now, he might never get the words out. “First, congratulations on the job.”

“How did you know I got it?”

“I didn’t, but they’d be fools to pass on someone with your intelligence. No one knows the physical sciences better than you.”

“I should have listed you as a reference.”

She ran her stocking clad foot along the inside of his leg. Once again she proved that every action caused a reaction. If she kept this up, he would forget his name, let alone what he wanted to tell her.

“And I would have given them a glowing recommendation of your research skills.”

She laughed, a sound he’d missed dearly. Her eyes glazed with desire. The smell of champagne and perfume engulfed him, driving him to distraction.

“You’re so good, in fact, I’ve decided to donate my body to science.” He slowly slid down the zipper on her skirt. The wool garment dropped to the floor. A groan rumbled deep inside. He hadn’t expected to find the lace garter and thong beneath her severe business suit. Not to mention the black stockings. She was liable to give him a heart attack, and he would donate his dead body.

“And a fine specimen they’ll be getting.” She snaked her arms around his shoulders.

“Well, there are conditions. I’m only willing to work with one particular scientist.”

“Who might that be?”

He brushed a kiss over her lips. “You.”

“I don’t know, Erik. Research projects can go on for several years. That’s a big commitment.” An undercurrent of uncertainty tinged her voice. She might accept any terms, but apparently, deep down, she wanted the whole shooting match.

“Could be even longer. I’m not always available twenty-four hours a day.”

“Neither am I. I just accepted another project.”

“I’d be willing to make time. Would you?”

She pretended to give the matter serious thought. “I could be persuaded.”

“In the name of research?”

“No. In the name of love. You do know I love you, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you love me too?” she asked.

“Yes.” Her elbow playfully landed in his ribs. “Yes, I love you.”

“Better.”

“Well, before you make a decision like this, remember that life will be a series of good-byes.”

“And a series of welcome homes,” she countered. Obviously impatient with talk, she grabbed at his t-shirt, pulling it free from his jeans. Not an easy maneuver while he dripped with champagne.

“You sure about this? There’s a lot of stress involved in this kind of relationship. Worrying when you don’t hear from me.”

“I wouldn’t worry. I’d know you’re all right.”

“How?”

“Because if something went wrong, then I would hear.”

“You’ve got it all worked out.” Practical, logical Tori covered all the angles. Nothing he could say would scare her off. She was stubborn and too damn smart to lose a debate. He’d met his match. He might as well surrender.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t need to be with you every second of the day. As long as I know I’m here….” She pressed her hand over his heart. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been in my heart since I first saw you flat on your ass in the airport in Burlington.”

“It’s nice to know I made a lasting impression.” She wriggled in closer and grabbed at the belt buckle with renewed determination. “So what made you change your mind about us?”

He recalled his meeting with DeMarco. “You could say I saw the future and it wasn’t appealing.”

The sterile picture the bureau chief painted was more than enough to push Erik to do what he should have done last month. He might believe Victoria deserved someone better, but his mind revolted at the thought of her seeing another man. She belonged to him, and nothing he could do would ever change that.

“So, what are your plans for Christmas?” he asked.

“At the rate I’m going, I’ll still be trying to get your clothes off.” She yanked on his jeans with such force that she sent them both tumbling to the floor.

Her eyes filled with tears as she struggled for a breath between her laughter. “I know you’ll be all right at work, but are you sure you’ll survive me?”

“Maybe not, but it would be one hell of a way to go.” He claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.

The End

About the Author

Like most authors, I didn't start out as a writer, but rather as a reader. My passion for romance novels began in my late teens and left me with an itch to discover the world.

After living in places as culturally diverse as Athens, Greece and Cairo, Egypt (where I met and married my own romantic hero), we returned to the States.

From a very young age, I showed an aptitude for telling stories. Of course my mother called me a pathological liar, but I prefer to think back on those days as an apprenticeship for my future craft.

Also published by Books We Love

Murphy’s Law

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