Codename: Romeo (4 page)

Victoria shook her head. She was doing it again. “Were you saying something?”

“Where did you get that beautiful tan?”

A warm flush crept up her cheeks. “Cancun.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Vacation.”

“How was it?”

“Relaxing.” She’d never mastered stimulating conversation, but she must be able to do better than one-word answers. In an academic setting, she could hold her own with colleagues twice her age. However, she doubted Erik wanted inside information on the Quantum Particle theory.

“Are you married?” she blurted out and then groaned. Much better. That was certainly sophisticated. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

“No, I’m not married,” he answered with a chuckle. “What about you?”

“No.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want a jealous husband walking though the door.”

Victoria laughed at the thought. She’d never inspired passion or jealousy in men. Still, it warmed her that he thought she could. “You’re safe.”

As long as he didn’t get within ten feet of her when she held a blunt instrument. Amazingly, lunch went off without a hitch. If she waited for him to return to work before cleaning up, she would break her streak of bad luck.

“What time do you have to go out?” he asked when he finished.

“After I’ve cleaned up.”

He started to stack the dishes.

“I’ll do that,” she said.

“Well, then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll just check the pipes in the bathroom and then go work on a house down the street until you’ve returned.”

“Okay.” They rose at the same time.

“Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome.” She watched while he made his way down the hall. His thick hair lifted off his shoulders with each long stride. How she would love to run her fingers through the shining brown waves. A tremor of excitement ran through her and settled in her chest. Thoughts like that would keep her awake tonight.

She couldn’t think of one logical reason for her physical reaction to this man. If he’d touched her, she could rationalize that her body responded to the effects of outside stimuli. Perhaps he gave off powerful pheromones that overloaded her central nervous system. Or maybe she was just plain susceptible to gorgeous blue eyes like other normal women. Whatever the reason, he gave her no cause to think he would lose sleep over her tonight.

With a sigh, she carried the dishes to the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. She shook the half full container of juice. Apparently, Very Berry Punch wasn’t his favorite.

“Tori?”

She turned at the sound of the deep voice.

Erik stood directly in front of her. A spark of amusement danced in his eyes. He raised his hand, hesitated, and then ran it across the tip of her nose. “Tomato sauce.”

The gentle touch took her by surprise. Her fingers tightened around the juice box, sending a stream of red liquid out the straw and across the wide expanse of his chest. She stared, completely mortified.

“I wanted to finish that, but I planned to get it in my mouth.”

“I’m so … sorry.” she stammered out. She tossed the box in the sink, grabbed a paper towel from the rack and wiped it over the stain. Powerful muscles rippled beneath her fingertips. Her heart raced, half from embarrassment, but half from excitement. “I’ll wash it for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, it’s my fault.”

“Believe me, this isn’t the worst thing that will get on me today. In fact, it smells better than some of the stuff I crawled though this morning.”

Despite the fact that he seemed more amused than annoyed, she felt like an idiot. She couldn’t do anything right in his presence. She continued to rub the cloth over his chest. He caught her wrist in a firm grip.

“Keep that up, lady, and things could get really messy.” His words echoed with raw sexuality.

Her eyes widened, and heat surged through her from head to toe. “I’m sorry,” she blabbered again, unable to find more adequate words.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “But I’d better get back to work. Give me a holler when you’re leaving.”

She nodded rather than blurting out something foolish. So, he was aware of her too. Not as a scientist, or a teacher, but as a woman. In spite of her embarrassment, she couldn’t hold back a smile.

Once he went back to the basement, she finished the kitchen and got ready to run her errands. If she timed things right, he would return just before dinner. She needed a plan and the afternoon to execute it. This time she would be prepared.

Chapter Three

An hour later, Victoria folded her dry cleaning over her arm and left the store. Her breath rose in clouds in front of her. The cold air smelled of snow. She checked her list and headed down the street towards the market. As she passed in front of the beauty shop, she paused to look at the pictures in the window. Absently, she ran a hand through her hair. The sexy models seemed to be laughing at her plain blunt cut. She’d worn the same style since college.

She wanted a change in her life. A new haircut. A new attitude. Maybe even a new man? Her heart fluttered. Life wasn’t going to drop opportunities into her lap. She had to go after the things she wanted. Before she could talk herself out of a makeover, she walked inside the shop. The smell of ammonia and peroxide assaulted her. She passed the shelves of shampoos and conditioners guaranteed to repair and give life to something already dead when it emerged from the scalp. The salon products shared the same chemical makeup as the supermarket brands, but she knew the girls would talk her into purchasing the designer products anyway.

“Hey, Dr. Jansen.” The receptionist, Candy, grinned brightly. “What can we do for you?”

“You probably don’t have any appointments left today, right?”

The young woman snapped her gum as she checked the book. “We can fit you in. Just a trim?”

She took a deep breath. “No. I want something different. Something like that,” Victoria said, pointing to a picture on the wall.

“Whoa. Big date tonight with one of the professors?”

“Of course not,” she muttered.

“Oh, good,” Candy said with exaggerated relief. “There isn’t one teacher on the faculty worth cutting a toenail for, let alone your hair. You can have a seat in Marlene’s chair.”

Several local women, sitting under a row of dryers, popped their heads out. “Hello, Dr. Jansen,” they said in unison.

She smiled but suddenly felt very old. Didn’t any of them know her first name? For the last few years she’d worked closely with the local school board coordinating the science program for the high school. She frequented their businesses, bought cookies at their bake sales, and attended their football games. Yet despite all that, she was a stranger in her own town. Everybody knew of her, but nobody knew her.

Since she left the research lab, she’d spun a cocoon around herself. She protected herself from external elements, but she couldn’t test her wings. Time to emerge.

“So, what can I do for you, Dr. Jansen?” Marlene asked.

“First of all, you can call me Victoria. And then you can give me something that makes me look like a Victoria instead of a Dr. Jansen.”

The stylist smiled. “Leave it to me, and I’ll make you look like a Victoria’s Secret model.” Victoria sighed. She wasn’t expecting miracles.

* * * *

Erik stood near the checkout counters while Daniels scouted the aisles with a shopping cart. He hated running surveillance in the small town—no back-alleys or crowded shops to disappear into. To make matters more challenging, Victoria seemed to know everyone in town, and she stopped to talk to each one of them. If she planned a meeting with Becker, she played the best-damned cover he’d ever come across.

Under any other circumstance, he’d have been bored stiff, but in this case, the object of his attention fascinated him. He stole another glance at her haircut. He didn’t usually care for short hair on a woman, but the style she’d chosen looked utterly feminine. The result made her look more like a coed and less like a professor.

From the dry cleaners, to the salon, to the bank, and finally the supermarket, she finished her rounds with no sign of Becker. Maybe he’d lie low for a while, especially if he suspected a setup at the airport. However, the agency’s sources reported that Becker’s clients worried that he couldn’t deliver. That could push a man to take risks.

Either way, Victoria wasn’t meeting with Becker this afternoon. While she checked out, Daniels joined him in the parking lot.

“Unless she wants to melt her Rocky Road, I’d say she’s heading home next,” Daniels said.

“I’ll drive.” Erik caught the keys his partner tossed him.

“I hope you’re hungry. Looks like you’re having salmon for dinner with a nice bottle of Port for dessert. Make sure you have a shirt that wears red wine well.”

Erik shot him a nasty glare. “What makes you think she’ll invite me to dinner?”

“Someone’s coming. She picked up two salmon fillets.”

“Maybe she likes fish.”

“Maybe she likes a man with a big tool box.” Daniels chuckled at his own joke.

“Let’s go before she comes out and spots me. The woman didn’t earn a Ph.D. by being a fool.” Erik got in the car and slammed the door.

* * * *

Victoria ran her fingers through her hair for the tenth time. What possessed her to choose the short style? Did she honestly think she would look like the twenty-year-old model in the picture? She gazed at her reflection in the glass of the kitchen window. The simple style flattered her more than her boring old blunt cut. As she swiped at the wisp of bangs one more time, she noticed that she no longer saw her hazy reflection but the face of Erik Sanders.

Her heart skipped a beat when he waved to her from the far side of her back yard fence. Admit it, Victoria. He’s the reason you allowed the hairdresser to talk you into a style that she swore would make you look like a lingerie model.

Her family always told her “be more assertive”. Well, she planned to assert herself tonight. No talking about physics. No Charlie Chaplin-like spastic moves. She would remain cool and composed and let Erik talk about himself. Now, she needed a plan to invite him to dinner.

She started to unload her groceries. “Do you like salmon?” She shook her head. If he said no, the conversation would end. “I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner?” Too insecure sounding, she thought as she placed canned goods in the cabinet. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yes to all three.”

She dropped a can of tomato soup in the porcelain sink and whirled around. Her jaw went slack. She must have left the back door open when she brought the bags in from the car.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said on a rush of air.

“Then you weren’t inviting me to dinner?” he asked.

“No … I mean yes….” Her cheeks grew hot. So much for cool and composed. Utter humiliation prevailed. She prayed for a complete loss of consciousness.

He took a step closer. The scent of musk engulfed her. “I accept.”

“You do?” she squeaked out.

His rich laughter echoed around the kitchen. “Don’t look so surprised or I might think you don’t really want me.”

“I do want you … to stay for dinner, I mean.”
Breathe, Victoria. He said yes. The hard part is over.

Smile lines creased the corners of his mouth. “What time?”

“Whenever you’re finished.”

He glanced down at his work clothes. “I need to stop home and get changed first.”

“Do you live in Wakeburn?”

“No.” An odd expression crossed his face. “South of here. Outside of Windsor.”

“Oh, then you tell me what time.”

“About seven?”

She brushed at the bangs on her forehead. The knot in her stomach unraveled. For the first time in her life, she’d asked a man on a date. Not the most eloquent invitation, but he accepted. “Seven will be fine.”

“Good, then I’ll see you later.”

“You’re done here?” she asked, trying to mask her disappointment.

“I finished before you left. It just has to dry out down there.”

She tipped her head in confusion. “Then why did you come back?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “I was hoping you’d invite me to dinner.”

“You don’t eat too often, do you?”

His gaze swept over her, and a genuine grin of admiration spread across his face. “Not with such a beautiful woman, I don’t.”

Her heartbeat accelerated. She was determined to overcome her shyness. She couldn’t live her life in a self-imposed exile forever. The past belonged in the past. She had a new career, a new life now. If she didn’t have a lot in common with Erik professionally, so much the better. Whatever his intention, at least he didn’t have a hidden agenda. “Seven o’clock then.”

“See ya later, Tori.” He stroked a finger along her jaw line, sending a current of excitement through her. The tingling sensation remained long after he disappeared.

* * * *

Erik climbed in the van parked around the corner from Victoria’s house. He’d showered and changed at the hotel outside of town and arrived back at six thirty. Daniels gave him the once over and smirked.

“White shirt could be dangerous, pal.”

“Shut up.”

Although he categorically denied that this dinner had any purpose other than to discover more about Dr. Jansen, suspect, Erik couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering to Tori Jansen, woman. Her endearing shyness couldn’t be an act. Even if she could control her expressions and gestures, she couldn’t fake a scarlet blush.

“Anybody call the house?” Erik asked.

“No, but she’s been busy tying up the line. She placed three calls to a Burlington number for instructions on how to make some fancy French salmon dish.”

“Sounds great.”

Daniels raised both eyebrows in a suggestive imitation of Groucho Marx. “Stuffed with oysters. Do you know what they use oysters for, pal?”

“Added flavor, I presume.” Erik tossed his partner a bag. “Well, here’s your Big Mac.”

Daniels removed the wrapped hamburger and waved it towards Erik. “You know, if I had been the one to go in and destroy her basement, you’d be eating a cold burger tonight.”