Codename: Romeo (5 page)

“As I recall, I lost the coin toss.”

“Just watch your step. Those who forget their history are condemned to repeat it.”

“I haven’t forgotten a damn thing,” Erik snapped. He remembered clearly what happened the last time he’d let his guard down. “You just keep your eyes open for Becker.”

“You don’t think she’d plan a meeting and a date in the same evening, do you?”

Erik considered the possibility that Becker wouldn’t show up at all. Not at Victoria’s house. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon wracking his brain for answers to the many inconsistencies in this case. Something was wrong. Perhaps something else caused Becker’s quick turn around at the airport.

“Call in to headquarters and have them review the security tapes from last night.”

“Why?”

“We might have the wrong woman. Tell them to check if another passenger wore the same flower.”

“I wonder if you’d consider that if she didn’t want to jump your bones.”

“Just make the frigging call,” Erik snapped.

“Chill. It was a joke.”

He rarely lost his temper over good-natured ribbing, but when it came to Victoria, he had no sense of humor. He opened the door of the van. Tucking a bottle of wine under his arm, he stepped onto the pavement. “And Daniels. You don’t need to listen with the headphones tonight.”

The older man chuckled. “How else would I pass the time?”

“Jackass,” Erik muttered. He slammed the door and strode down the quaint, tree-lined street. He filled his lungs with the clear, crisp autumn air. A refreshing change from the sleazier areas his work had taken him.

Hunter green shutters and trim framed Victoria’s small white cottage house. A picket fence surrounded the property, and iron lanterns bordered the gate. A welcoming home in a quiet community. Put a wooden swing on that front porch and it would look like the cover of the Saturday Evening Post.

Jeez. What happened to his brain cells? This place wasn’t home, and it never would be. He lived in a series of hotels and he liked it that way. No strings, no ties, no hassles. So why had he conned the professor into opening her home to him twice in one day?

* * * *

Victoria sucked in a large gulp of air and opened the front door. Her practiced poise nearly deserted her. Erik, dressed in jeans, white Oxford shirt and leather jacket appeared the epitome of male sexuality. The porch light cast a glow over his hair and added a silver glint to his deep blue eyes. All in all, he looked breathtaking.

“Something wrong?” he asked, as she stared in silence.

“You look different in your clothes.” He chuckled, and she realized what she’d said. “Your street clothes, I mean.”

“I knew what you meant.” He offered her a bottle of wine.

“Thank you.” Their fingers touched for a brief moment, but the warmth lingered. The spicy scent of his aftershave heightened the impulses from her olfactory nerves.
Oh, darn, Victoria, forget the scientific reason, the man just smells good.

After a few awkward seconds he asked, “May I come in?”

“I’m sorry.” She stepped aside to allow him to enter. “You’ll have to forgive me. I seem to forget myself when you’re around.”

Erik grinned. “That’s good.”

“How so?”

“Better than you being indifferent to my presence. At least from my point of view.”

She would never suffer from indifference in his presence. Her hormones took over when she so much as thought about him. “Dinner’s not ready yet. I didn’t think you’d make it to Windsor and back that quickly. Especially during rush hour.”

“Windsor?” he repeated.

“Didn’t you say you lived outside of Windsor, or did I misunderstand?”

He shook his head. “No, you heard right. I couldn’t wait for your company.” Although his compliments sounded sincere, she rarely received flattery from men.

“Make yourself comfortable. I have to check on something….” Victoria left the sentence hanging and backed herself into the kitchen. She wiped her sweaty palms on a dishtowel and inhaled deeply. The wild rice still needed fifteen minutes to steam, the salad wasn’t made, and the salmon still required several minutes of prep time. All of which she’d planned to have done prior to his arrival. Now she would have to cook and entertain at the same time—and pray she didn’t mess up either task.

* * * *

Erik circled the cozy living room. Oak bookcases with a built-in desk filled one wall of the room. Albert Einstein graced the screen saver of her high-tech computer system. He shook his head and chuckled. Only another physicist would choose that image.

The fireplace smelled of pine. Heat radiated from the burning embers. He took a couple of logs from the wrought iron basket on the hearth and placed them on top. In less than a minute, the fire roared to life again.

He silently cursed his stupidity. He should have checked the distance from Windsor to Wakeburn. When she’d asked him where he lived, Windsor was the only town he could remember passing on his way up from Boston last Saturday. He never tripped up on small details, but then he never felt guilty about fabricating his past while working undercover either. How had she managed to touch his conscience when he believed he didn’t possess one?

Victoria returned, carrying a silver tray with two glasses of Chardonnay. His gaze remained riveted to her slim hips and nicely rounded bottom as she bent down to set the tray on the coffee table. She laid out two linen cocktail napkins next to silver coasters. For someone used to tossing a can of beer across a room to his infrequent visitors, the display of well-bred manners left him feeling socially out of her league.

He lifted a large textbook off the mantel and read the title.
Quantum Physics: An Analysis of the Quantum Particle Theory.
The damn thing weighed a ton. “A little bedtime reading?” he asked.

She shrugged apologetically. “Not exactly. I wrote it.”

He glanced at the author’s name. V.R. Jansen, Ph.D. He pulled his foot out of his mouth and returned the book back to its special place on the mantel.

Seemingly undisturbed by his patronizing comment, she handed him one of the flutes. “Cheers.” She tapped her glass against his before taking a long sip.

After downing a large gulp of the dry liquid, he leaned against the wall. “So, what exactly is the Quantum Particle Theory?”

“It’s complicated to explain.”

“Afraid I might not understand?”

“Not at all. But I promised myself I wouldn’t discuss physics tonight.”

“Why not?”

She raked her fingers through the soft wisp of bangs. “Because I tend to put my dates to sleep that way.”

“Then I’ll have to read the book to find out.” He raised a mischievous half grin. “Or find another way to get the information from you.”

Although his suggestive comment brought the expected blush to her cheeks, Victoria seemed to have relaxed slightly. Wine had that effect on some women.

She took another sip from her glass. “Don’t be too sure, Erik. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

He liked the way his name rolled off her lips with that trace of New England accent. “And I’m equally as good at extracting information.”

Slender fingers rested gently on his shoulder. “Then maybe you should retire from the Water Authority and join the National Security Bureau.”

Erik swallowed a choked cough. Did she know the truth?

Her warm brown eyes sparked in the firelight. She raised her hand and tentatively touched his hair. “Of course, they’d probably make you cut all this. They’re a conservative bunch of vultures.”

“Vultures?” Although she said the word without bitterness, the comment stung all the same. What did she know about the Bureau?

She crinkled her nose. “Maybe that was extreme. They’re more like hawks. Predators, ruthless in their pursuit.”

“You familiar with them, Tori?”

“Once.” She dropped her hand and took a step back. “In another life.”

Her mood changed immediately. Many scientists working on sensitive projects often dealt with NSB agents, but only in a protective capacity. What caused her to resent the agency, and did it have anything to do with the current case? He would have to convince someone in authority to unseal her file. The situation had become a need to know.

Chapter Four

Victoria stood at the kitchen counter and sliced tomatoes for the salad. So much for leaving the past in the past. She slowly exhaled a deep breath, letting the tension ebb from her body. She probably came off as a nutcase, or worse, one of those moody, simpering women who couldn’t deal with life’s bumpy roads. That’s what half her colleagues thought when she resigned from the research center.

She’d tried to play by their rules, but principles and ethics didn’t always coexist with the goals in the defense industry. The best defense is a strong offense. Idealism often got lost in the pursuit. She’d made the right decision for herself and she could live with her choice. After the two years of forced protection from the government that followed her departure, she’d gotten her life back and carried no regrets. But apparently, she still harbored residual anger.

She arranged a handful of tomatoes on top of the lettuce leaves. Cooking usually allowed her to relax and take her mind off her problems. Did she plan to ruin her evening with an interesting and exciting man?

The sound of approaching footsteps and the spicy scent of aftershave surrounded her. During the long silence, she sensed Erik staring at her. Nerve endings stood at attention, giving rise to sensations she’d never felt before. At least he stayed, although she would have understood if he’d left. She owed him an explanation for her irrational outburst.

“I’m sorry,” he said before she could.

She turned towards him. “Why? I brought up the subject.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was mocking your work.”

“Not at all.”

He smiled uncertainly. “Then would you mind putting down the knife? It’s aimed towards a part of me I’d like to keep.”

“What?” She gazed down at the direction of the blade and groaned.

He reached out and carefully closed his fingers over hers on the handle. As she released her grip, he placed the knife in the sink behind her. The action brought him flush against her while pinning her to the counter.

“That’s better. I make you nervous enough.”

“No, you don’t,” she said with a slight quaver in her voice. Oh, he stimulated her nervous system, all right, but in a delightfully warming way. Any anxiety she felt sprung from desire, not fear.

She gazed up at him, noticing his height for the first time. Even with her heels, she barely reached his chin. He rested one hand on her hip. His eyes sparked with a raw hunger that left her breathless. A rush of adrenaline surged through her. She inched closer, placing her fingertips on his chest to feel his heartbeat.

And then he kissed her. A chaste brush of his lips across her forehead that both surprised and disappointed her.

He took a step back. “Need help with anything?”

Unable to speak, she shook her head. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on her silk blouse. Talk about mixed signals. She had her wires so crossed she might short circuit.

“Would you like me to set the table?”

“Sure,” she muttered, suddenly needing distance. “The plates are in the china cabinet along with the silverware.”

Once he left the kitchen, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Why had he backed away? True, she possessed no great knowledge of the male psyche, but Erik was a total enigma.

Time to reassess the situation. Could she deal with this kind of chaos in her normally ordered life?
Be careful what you wish for, girl.

* * * *

Erik beat a fast retreat to the dining room. The expression of bewilderment on Victoria’s face left him with an unaccustomed feeling of regret. Hell, he’d wanted her, and he got no resistance from her. He probably could have taken her right there in the kitchen. With the entire exchange on tape for everyone in the agency to listen to. Bad enough their evening would provide entertainment for his partner.

He never enjoyed eavesdropping on private conversations between men and women. Although he understood the necessity of his work, many elements bothered him, but never more than tonight. Corporate spying cost the government billions as well as damaging nationality security, but Victoria just didn’t seem the type of woman involved in illegal activities. Bugging her house and investigating her undercover seemed wrong. She trusted him.

A long-term relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. His job kept him on the road and undercover for weeks at a time. What woman would put up with that? Add to that Victoria’s dislike for the very organization he worked for and a short-term relationship didn’t seem likely either.

He pulled two plates from the china cabinet and laid them on the embroidered placemats. Did the fork go on the right or the left? Good thing he didn’t plant video cameras in her home because, right about now, his partner would be rolling in the street with laughter. If he were smart, he’d finish dinner and make a hasty excuse to leave. Then again, his boss always quipped that he had more nerve than brains. Which served him well.

* * * *

A gentle flutter brushed over Victoria’s nose. The last remnants of sleep clung to her like a cozy blanket. She grasped her pillow and gave it a punch. A muted grunt echoed in her ear. She opened her eyes and stared at the white buttons on Erik’s shirt. After a few groggy seconds, the reality of her situation dawned on her. How had she ended up in his lap with her leg wedged in between his?

She remembered settling on the sofa to watch the Monday night football game while Erik cleaned the dishes. Somewhere between then and now, she’d curled herself around him like a pretzel. She tried to unfold herself.

He tightened his hold. “Two minute warning. Don’t you want to see how it ends?”

“What’s the score?” she mumbled into his chest.

“Twenty-eight to three, Patriots are losing.”