Dangerous Disguise (6 page)

“You might want to take those off,” he said.

Maren looked reluctant, then gave in. He stood still as she held on to his shoulder with one hand, slipping the shoes off with the other. When he reached to take them from her, she held the shoes to her. He laughed, dropping his hand. Jared began to walk. “I wasn’t going to steal them.”

She fell into step beside him. The sand was cool against her feet rather than cold the way she’d expected. “I prefer handling my own things.”

He slanted a look at her face, then went on looking out into the blurred distance. They were the only two people on the beach. “How long have you been this distrusting? Or is it just me you don’t trust?”

“I’m not distrusting.” The defensive tone was back in her voice. “I just like carrying my own load.”

“Shoes are hardly a load.” Moving one step ahead of her, he looked back to peer at her face as they walked. “It is me, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer him directly. Instead she stared straight ahead, trying to keep other thoughts from invading her mind. “You remind me of someone.”

He knew very little about her. Only the things that could be pulled from school records. Her personal life had managed to exist under any radar he’d had available to him. “And he was a bastard?”

His directness made her laugh despite herself. “Not at first.” Memories pushed their way through the cracks. “At first he was wonderful.”

“So far, I can see the similarity,” he said.

Amusement rose and she was secretly grateful for it. “He wasn’t quite as cocky as you, but then, he was younger.”

“How much younger?” Pressing his opportunity, he tried to take advantage of the situation and to coax any information he could out of her.

A heaviness pressed itself against her chest as she remembered. “We were in college together.”

“And he broke your heart.”

“And he broke my heart,” she whispered more to herself than to him. Memories began to overpower her, the bad swallowing up the precious good.

How could anyone hurt someone like her? “You’re right. He was a bastard.”

She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t. Thoughts of Kirk had long since stopped hurting. But thinking of him ushered in thoughts of Melissa, the baby who died from SIDS. Those thoughts, she knew, would never stop hurting.

She shrugged. “He was a man.”

He didn’t want her thinking that way. Shutting him out. Then again, he was the one lying to her about his life, and when she found out the truth, he would be dead to her.

Still, he heard himself defending his ilk. “The two are not necessarily equivalent.”

“Right.” She nodded her head. “I should have said a good-looking man.”

He knew that, because he looked the way he did, the amount of effort he had to put forth to get around women was a great deal less than the average man had to expend. He’d never had it work against him before. “That’s much too narrow-minded for someone like you.”

Maren abruptly stopped walking and looked at him, her temper flaring. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. Because today was the day it was, her nerves were all close to the surface. She’d managed to keep them under control all day, but now she was on overload.

“How would you know about someone like me?” she demanded hotly. “You don’t know anything about me.”

This display of temper caught him off guard. He spoke softly, gently, as if he was trying to disarm an emotional possible suspect. He supposed, in a way, he was.

“I know that you’re fair. That you care about the people you work with. That you’re not just some boss, pushing people around, interested only in getting ahead and nothing more. I saw the way you were with April….”

He saw tears shimmering in her eyes and felt something tugging on his heart. He hated to see a woman cry. From as far back as he could remember, tears had always affected him. They were guaranteed to bring out his protective nature. Seeing tears in a woman’s eyes made him want to right wrongs, to slay dragons, to do whatever it took to make a woman stop crying.

“What did I say, Ms. Minnesota?” he asked softly. “What did I say to make you want to cry?”

Standing here in the moonlight like this, with stars covering the darkness, she laughed at the absurdity of hearing him call her by her surname. She had no idea why it sounded so silly on his lips, but it did.

“Nothing. You didn’t say anything. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off as she felt memories squeezing her heart.

“Just that what?” he coaxed.

She took a deep breath before answering. “Today’s Melissa’s birthday.”

“Melissa?”

She nodded, looking away. Afraid that once the tears began, she wouldn’t be able to stop them and she didn’t want to cry in front of him.

Her eyes stung.

“My daughter,” she whispered.

“You have a daughter?” Something else the radar hadn’t picked up, he thought.

“Had.” The single word scratched against her throat like a cat-o’-nine-tails.

He couldn’t leave it alone. She’d put it out there for him to examine and he had a feeling she needed to talk, as hard as it was on her. “What happened to her?”

“She died.” Each word she uttered was filled with tears. “She was two months old and I was too tired to check on her.” Maren wrapped her arms around herself. The coldness wouldn’t leave. “She’d cried all day long, no matter what I did, and then she finally fell asleep. I was so happy to get a few minutes of peace. I remember thinking that she’d just cried herself out, that there was nothing odd about her sleeping so long. That she’d learned how to sleep through the night.” Maren blew out a long, shaky breath. Her insides wouldn’t stop trembling. “But she wasn’t sleeping. She was gone. She…just…died.”

Her pain came to him in waves. “Oh, God, Maren, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, not because of what he said, but because of her own helplessness. “I keep thinking if I had just come into her room sooner, if I hadn’t fallen asleep myself—”

He cut through her blame. “You were exhausted.”

There was no excuse for what she’d done, or failed to do. Her anger at herself spilled out onto him. “I was her mother! I should have
known
something was wrong!”

“Just because you’re a mother doesn’t mean you have extraordinary powers. Doctors haven’t been able to figure out how to prevent SIDS.” Which was what he assumed her baby had died of. “You can’t beat yourself up this way. Things happen.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling out this time. “This wasn’t a ‘thing.’ This was my baby.” Her throat felt as if it was closing up. “My baby…”

Jared put his arms around her. Dropping her shoes, Maren stiffened, resisting. Hitting his chest with fists that suddenly lacked any strength at all.

And then she did what she’d been able to prevent all day. She broke down. And cried. Huge sobs that racked her body. She cried until she was completely empty inside.

And Jared held her the entire time.

Chapter 6

S
lowly, with effort, Maren managed to pull herself out of the emotional tailspin she’d fallen into. Raising her head, she gave Jared a rueful smile.

“Sorry.”

He’d held her and stroked her head while she’d sobbed. He’d felt something stirring within him, a tightening of his gut, a desire that seemed to invade all parts of him. None of which he could mention to her.

Her cheek was damp with tears, trapping a strand of her hair against it. He moved the strand from her face. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

She nodded toward his open jacket. “I got your shirt all wet.”

He glanced down at the area. She’d done more than that, he thought. She’d set something off, as well. “It’ll dry.”

Maren sighed, dragging her hand through her hair. She shouldn’t have broken down like that. It wasn’t like her. But he’d been so kind….

“I wish you weren’t so nice.”

Longing threaded through him, weaving in and out like a tapestry needle. “Kicking you didn’t seem like the right thing to do at the moment.”

She pressed her lips together. Everything seemed to quiver inside of her. It had been so long since she’d leaned, really leaned, on someone. Papa Joe was always there for her, but she didn’t want him to worry. But standing on her own two feet made her so weary sometimes.

“I do better when I have a target to rail against.” She knew it was wrong, but she shared a confidence with him. “Kindness makes me fall apart.”

It was what he’d sensed, what had made him take her into his arms in the first place. What made him want to keep her in his arms now. “You shouldn’t let that information fall into the wrong hands.”

She looked up at him. The moment and the night seemed to stand still. “Are yours the wrong hands?”

Oh, lady, if you only knew,
a voice whispered inside his head.

Jared knew the right thing to do was to walk her back to her car.

He couldn’t get himself to move in that direction. Couldn’t even take in a breath because looking at her right now hurt so much. He felt an ache inside of him, an ache that took over and governed his next movements.

Burying his fingers in her hair, he framed her face with his hands and brought his mouth down to hers. Slowly. He watched her eyes as his lips moved closer. Felt the magnetism as they fluttered shut.

It was like a one-two punch right to his solar plexus.

His cousin Callie had teased him that he’d been born attracted to women. And they to him. His father had caught him kissing Louise Rodriguez on the playground. He was ten at the time. Jared couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t attracted to women and acting, whenever possible, on that attraction.

But he could also exercise restraint. And when it came to doing his job, he used that attraction as a tool, to help him squeak by if the going got too rough. More than one woman had gotten him out of a tight spot.

But this, this wasn’t something he was doing because of the case. He wasn’t cultivating the woman, wasn’t making a deposit in the bank against a future necessary quick withdrawal. Nor was kissing Maren something he was controlling. His desire, his urge, his response to her tears, was what had taken over, what was now in charge. He could only follow.

He felt as if he were drowning. Drowning in the flavor of her mouth, the scent of her skin, in the taste of the tears she’d shed that had left their imprint along her lips. He tasted salt and sweetness and felt intoxicated far beyond the reality of the situation.

His hands slipped in under her coat, closing around her, pressing her to him. He felt his body absorbing the heat they were both generating.

He found himself wanting her the way he knew he couldn’t have her.

Women might at times be his tool, but that was only when survival was involved. He’d never
used
a woman in the full sense of the word. There were lines he wouldn’t cross.

Emotions collided with one another as Maren fell deeper into the kiss. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t really even seen it coming until it was upon her. Taking her breath away.

She thought she knew herself by now, inside and out. Felt confident of her next movement. Felt confident that she wouldn’t allow herself to be rendered so naked, so vulnerable.

And yet, here she was, naked.

Vulnerable.

Wanting desperately to be held, to be made to forget the huge ache in her heart. She wanted to feel like a woman again. Ever since Melissa had died, she hadn’t gone out with a man, much less been with one in the complete sense of the word. She’d become a citadel, a fortress, needing only to work, to meet goals, to make the restaurant the best ever. And to be there for Papa Joe if he should need her. Her life was orderly, precise. As focused as a high-powered lens on a state-of-the-art camera. She felt as if someone had just dropped the camera, loosening the lens and cracking it. Everything was blurry now. Nothing was sharp.

Except for the need.

Her body was pleading for its moment.

His mouth made her head spin, made thoughts fly in and out of her mind haphazardly. Her mind deserted her. All she had left was need. A huge, devastating need. It had been so long since she’d felt like a real woman. So long since the deadness inside of her had retreated enough to allow her to feel.

He’d woken up the sleeping tiger.

She clung to Jared, kissing him as if this was her last moment on earth.

The cry of a seagull, shrill and piercing as it flew along the mellow surf, wedged its way into the hot reality around her.

With supreme effort, she pulled back. Stepped away from him. But her lips felt numb. And bereft. The taste of his lips were embossed on her own. Maren had to concentrate not to slip her tongue along her mouth. Not to give in to the temptation of savoring the flavor there.

She’d already given in to too much temptation tonight. Again, she pressed her lips together. Was she always going to taste him if she did that? She caught herself hoping so before she could bank down the thought. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“My fault.” He saw Maren look up at him sharply. “What?”

“Never knew a man to take the blame for that kind of thing before. By now, most would be pressing to take advantage of the moment,” she said.

Was that her story? Had someone taken advantage of her? That would have made her twice as leery. And made his job that much harder. But he’d had a feeling that something was up. “I don’t take advantage of women.”

He said it so seriously, she almost believed him. Wanted to believe him. But she knew what kind of trouble that could land her in. She couldn’t allow herself to start that all over again. Her wounds hadn’t healed from the last time. If she got back on that roller coaster, they’d all split open, be raw again, and the process would have to start from scratch. She just wasn’t up to it.

Besides, his statements didn’t jibe. “You just said kissing me was your fault,” she pointed out.

“I don’t think a stone statue could have resisted kissing you at that moment.” And he could readily attest that he was no stone statue.

“You do know how to spin a line, don’t you?” Maren could only shake her head.

Desperately trying to clean his senses, to breathe in air that wasn’t laced with her scent, Jared continued to play his part. He lifted a shoulder, let it drop carelessly. “I wouldn’t know about that. C’mon.” He stooped down and picked up her shoes. “It’s late.” He placed a hand against the small of her back. “Let’s get you home.”

She took her shoes away from him and shrugged away from his hand. With renewed determination, she began to walk back to the parking lot and her car.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting home myself,” she informed him tersely.

He saw through the act. She was scared. Scared of what he’d stirred up. That was okay because he was scared, too.

“Just a figure of speech.” He couldn’t do anything about the way she felt over their kiss, but he could do something about the fears she might be harboring about him. “Look, Ms. Minnesota, don’t worry. I’m not about to jump your bones.” He got over the wall in one giant stride, then held his hand out to her. “What just happened was one human being reaching out to another.”

Ignoring his offered hand, she made it over the wall into the parking lot on her own. Despite herself, he’d aroused her curiosity. “Which human being was I, the reacher or the reachee?”

His smile was enigmatic. “That’s for you to figure out.” And then he paused for a moment. His eyes were serious as he asked, “Am I fired?”

Maren came up to her vehicle. Both older cars, theirs were the only ones left in the lot. She turned to look at him, not certain she’d heard correctly. “What?”

“Am I fired?” Jared repeated.

She did a quick review of his work at the restaurant. He seemed to always be one step ahead of Max, a fact Max wasn’t thrilled with but one she found highly commendable. She saw no professional justification for letting him go. “For what?”

“For kissing you.”
And for wanting to do it again. Over and over again.

“You’re good in a crisis and you seem to be an excellent chef. Most importantly, I don’t have time to interview new people.” Still feeling unsettled, she hid behind a convenient excuse. “So, no,” she concluded, “you’re not fired.” She unlocked the driver’s side, then slanted a warning look in his direction. “But kiss me again and you might be.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jared waited until she was in her car, about to turn on the ignition. He leaned over on the driver’s side, forcing her to open the window.

Impatience danced in her eyes. She wanted to get away from him. Far away. Until her pulse regained its proper rhythm. “What?”

“You kissed me back, you know.”

Maren said nothing. Instead she rolled her window back up and gunned her engine. Tires squealed as she pulled away from the restaurant.

And him.

“I know,” she said softly as she drove out of the lot and hit the street.

It was one dead end after another.

Shepherd had come in today and other than going over a few things with Maren and acting way too friendly in his opinion, nothing had come of the visit. Jared hadn’t been able to overhear what they’d been talking about. It could have been next month’s menu or a new wad of money being invested in the restaurant. He didn’t get the straight of it either way.

As Shepherd took his leave, the man had glanced his way, as if trying to place him from the last visit. Maren had gone back to her office. To input what the man had said? From what he’d been able to ascertain, Maren documented everything.

Jared needed to get a look at her computer. And Joe’s, for that matter. Because this getting nowhere was for the birds. His patience was limited.

He’d stopped in at the precinct early this morning before coming into the restaurant. His superior, Abe Glassel, had patiently listened to the non-report. So far, he’d learned that a few of the busboys had had run-ins with the law, but there was nothing serious to go on. None had connections to any organized movement.

The most salient piece of information he’d confirmed, and only through hearsay, was that Warren Shepherd had been boyhood friends with Gaspare Rosetti, who was thought by some to be a lieutenant in the Mafia. But even if this was true, guilt by association was not going to make their case for them.

Evidence would.

He needed to get some hard evidence. Which brought him back to the idea of snooping around after hours. He’d picked up all he could by associating with the employees at Rainbow’s End.

It was time to start taking risks.

He’d had that in mind the night he’d stumbled across Maren in the basement, taking inventory. That had been an accident. He hadn’t known she was there. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

This time, he made sure that everyone had gone. Timing it just right, Jared had made himself scarce, taking refuge where he could keep an eye on things. Confident that even the cleaning crew had left, he came out of his hiding place only after he’d witnessed Maren leaving the premises.

The security code had been activated, but he had committed it to memory, so leaving after he found what he needed wouldn’t be a problem for him. He’d deactivate the system long enough to let himself out, then activate it again.

The restaurant was bathed in shadows. Only a sprinkling of lights were on, casting eerie pools along the walls and floors. He made his way carefully to the back of the building, to the small office beside the lavish one that Shepherd occupied whenever he came here.

What might be difficult, Jared thought as he picked the lock to Maren’s office, was gaining access to their computers.

Computers and their software were not second nature to him the way they were to some of his cousins. Mostly he used them only when he was forced to. But the resident computer wizard at the department had walked him through what he needed to know and he was a fast learner. He sincerely hoped it would see him through right now. He just wanted to be in and out.

After sitting down in front of Joe’s computer, he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and switched on the machine. He had no intentions of leaving any prints. He needed to find something but part of him actually hoped he wouldn’t.

Not very professional of him, he thought.

Dishonesty had never been an issue with him. But it hummed in his veins now like an annoying insect he couldn’t kill. Doing his best to ignore it, he pulled up the main program on Joe’s computer. Lights flashed and a message appeared as he tried to open the program.

“Please enter password.”

A neat rectangular box pulsated as it awaited the correct combination of numbers and/or letters.

Jared sucked in his breath, then, his fingers poised over the keyboard, gingerly typed in what the tech had told him.

Nothing happened. Erasing the tiny stars that represented what he’d input, the rectangle continued to pulsate expectantly.

Taunting him.

“Well, Harry, maybe you’re not as big a computer wizard as you think you are,” Jared muttered. Very carefully, he typed in a second set of letters, falling back on the contingency plan Harry had given him.