Sex, Lies and Valentines (8 page)

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “Why would you tell your brother something like that? Do you not care what’s at stake here?”

She didn’t know if her voice had finally wore him down or if Gabriel had just finished whatever it was that he’d been concentrating on while staring out the window. Either way, something made him turn to face her. One shoulder leaning against the window frame, he gave her a long, bored look.

“What?” he asked. “I was supposed to introduce you to my brother as my hooker? A high-end call girl with a taste for crime?”

Even in her anger, she had to appreciate that he didn’t toss in the third option—to out her as an FBI agent there to break a crime ring. After all, they didn’t know for sure who might be listening. And while Hunter’s files cleared Caleb Black, they didn’t indicate whether he would support the FBI or whether he’d side with his father.

“You were supposed to stick with the relationship we agreed to,” she snapped. “We’re here to gather information, not to weave a wider web of lies.”

“That might work for here,” he said waving his hand around the room to indicate, she supposed, the entire manor and the cover they’d agreed to use for the meetings. “But it wouldn’t work in town and it won’t work for my family.”

“Why? Because they expect you to be cozily settling into domestic bliss with me?”

God, why did that image terrify and exhilarate her in equal parts?

“No. But they don’t expect, and won’t accept, the inclusion of a cheap—or in your case, Blondie, expensive—bimbo at any family events. And since I’m here to clear my father, I’ll be attending a great many family events. Were you planning to wait here in the room?”

Danita hissed, as much over his description, accurate though it was, as for his insight. And his thoughtfulness. He hadn’t hid his feelings. He hadn’t wanted her here, nor had he wanted any part of the case itself. Hunter had blackmailed him, using that family Gabriel was so hot to protect as a lever.

But he was taking steps to make sure she was included. Not only tolerated, but welcomed to whatever family gathering he might attend.

Even though she knew he hadn’t done it to make her life easier, or to help with the case, it was still a nice thing to do. It’d make things easier on his family, and on her.

“It could ruin our cover here,” she said quietly, not letting go of her frown completely. Just because he did something thoughtful didn’t mean she was letting him call the shots on this case.

“Nah. Not when my esteemed colleagues here find out I’m lying about you in order to set my old man up. They think I’m here to screw him over and I’ll be a shoo-in as president of their West Coast criminals club.”

Had she considered him thoughtful?

Horrified, she had to drag her jaw shut.

“You’d do that? Use your family to con these criminals?”

“You are,” he pointed out.

Danita wanted to protest. She was doing her job. She was trying to break a crime ring and maybe, just maybe, catch a notorious con artist.

That the notorious con was Gabriel’s father was beside the point. She wasn’t trying to use him. Just to arrest him.

Before she could decide how to respond to Gabriel—before she could even figure out what she felt about it—there was a knock on the door. Training chilled her eyes and calmed her mind. Confusion cleared, worry disappeared.

This would be contact.

This was why she was here.

Giving Gabriel a warning look, she gave her reflection a quick glance in the mirror. A second to fluff her hair, another to slide one ankle against the other as a reminder that her gun was readily available, and she was ready.

She arched another warning look at Gabriel, then tugged the door open with a sultry smile.

“H’lo,” she murmured.

“Meeting time,” the goon said, ignoring her to look across the room at Gabriel. “Ten minutes. Dining room.”

“We’ll be there.”

Danita held her breath, watching the goon’s frown crease his wide face. She and Hunter had suggested Gabriel try to bring her to the meetings, but they knew the probability he could pull it off was slim. She’d planned for him to wear a wire, at least until she had a chance to bug the meeting room.

“Not we. Just you.”

Gabriel shifted away from the wall, straightening to his full height. It was like watching a warrior pull on armor. He became dangerous. Intimidating. Danita licked her lips. And so damned tempting.

“We. She’s a part of my plan.”

“You’re not here to pitch your plan. You’re here to listen.”

“I have inside connections and pull that none of you could even dream of.” Gabriel’s words were so strong, so assured, that Danita wondered just what he had up his sleeve. “Your little club needs me. So we do things my way. Or I leave.”

It was like watching an ocean liner try to turn on a dime. The guy’s brain was just too slow to keep up, and wasn’t programmed for options other than relaying orders.

“Your neck,” the goon finally said with a shrug. Then he glanced at his watch and said, “Nine minutes.”

Danita closed the door on his retreating back. She took a deep breath, suddenly worried about Gabriel’s safety. Only because he was basically in her custody, she assured herself. Not because she actually cared about the guy.

“What are you planning?” she asked.

“I told you, I’m going to con them all. Make them think I have the inside info to set up my old man. If that’s really their goal, they’ll snap me up. If they want more, I have a few other ideas to play with, too,” he said as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it up.

She wanted to ask what ideas. She needed to know what he was planning.

But then his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Each button revealed more skin. Gorgeous, silky golden skin covered with a light dusting of black hair. Her mouth watered. Then he pulled off the shirt and she swore she felt the room spin a couple times. Gorgeous. Subtle muscles made his broad shoulders and well-toned chest a work of art. His biceps flexed as he bunched the shirt up and tossed it in the laundry bag hanging in the closet before flicking open his suitcase to pull out a fresh black shirt. A quick shake of the fabric to release wrinkles made the muscles of his back dance in the mirror.

She wanted, desperately, to run her tongue over that skin and taste him in tiny, nibbling bites.

“What are you doing?” She hated that her words were breathless, but her mouth was too busy trying not to let the drool slide down her chin to worry about sucking in air.

“Getting ready for the meeting. Appearances are everything, Blondie. You should know that.” He slanted her an amused look that made it clear he knew how he was affecting her. Then, as he pulled his shirt on and strode toward the bathroom, he arched one brow.

“You might want to spiffy it up a little. Sexy casual is good, but we’re going in there to take control. We want to control the scene, call the shots. These guys are all about intimidation. So we need to go in there playing rich and powerful, making it clear they’d be lucky to have us in their club. They’re the ones who end up intimidated.”

“By dressing
spiffy?
” she asked.

“Sexy casual,” he said, tossing her a grin. “But rich. I’m a wealthy man, remember.”

With that and a wink, he closed the bathroom door on his huge ego and gorgeous shoulders.

Danita ground her teeth together. She was the agent in charge, and he was telling her how to dress her part?

Well, that dried up the drool all right. Easily ignoring the memory-tempting golden sheen of all those hard muscles, Danita tossed her suitcase open. Mostly she’d packed upscale hooker clothes. But upscale sexy was easy enough to pull together. She just combined her own taste with her undercover look.

She pulled out a black leather pencil skirt, and to keep the slit up the back from edging into slutty, she added black opaque tights and a pair of patent leather pumps. After a brief consideration, she pulled out a severe white button-up shirt in one hand, and a tight black cashmere sweater in the other, debating both looks.

“Go for the sweater,” Gabriel said as he stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s sexier.”

Sweater in hand, she turned to gather the rest of her outfit before glancing at him.

Why was the man so heart-stoppingly gorgeous? He’d skipped the tie, taking his suit down from formal to simply powerful. The black fabric looked rich, making her fingers tingle with the need to touch it, to slide her hands over his shoulders to see if it was as luxurious feeling as it looked. His black shirt was open at the collar, showing off just enough skin to keep the image of him, shirtless, firmly in her mind.

“Better hurry,” he said. “We’re gonna be late.”

Better hurry because she was going crazy, she told herself as she rushed to the bathroom. He was key to breaking this case, she reminded herself. He was under her protection. They were undercover. In less than ten minutes, they would be facing a roomful of the top criminals on the West Coast.

As she slicked on a pale pink gloss over her lips and fluffed her hair, Danita realized that none of that mattered. Not compared to those gorgeous shoulders.

What mattered, dammit, was that he was a con artist with a reputation for having almost as many crimes as his father.

Thirty minutes later, as Danita settled in a plush easy chair in a corner of the manor’s private dining room, she was forced to adjust her opinion.

Gabriel Black wasn’t just a con. He was the best damned con artist she’d ever met.

Six guys flanked the long oak table, many of whom Danita recognized from their FBI files. Three of them had personal goons standing at attention behind their chairs. The others didn’t rate goons, but had their jackets pulled open to show off their holstered hardware.

And then there was Gabriel.

Unlike the other guys, he wasn’t flexing any muscle. He’d brought her, his pseudo-girlfriend, instead of a hired goon. They’d waltzed in here late, and from the second he’d stepped through those pretty stained glass doors, he’d been in charge. Despite the murmured protests that it was saved for someone—just in case—he’d commandeered the seat at the head of the table.

After introducing himself and getting the names of everyone in the room, goons included, he’d taken the lead in the discussion. There were a few angry looks, some mutters and grumbles, but nobody stopped him.

It was like watching a master conductor lead a symphony, he was playing them so well.

“I’m impressed with the experience and credentials everyone is bringing to the table here,” Gabriel said comfortably after one of the guys she didn’t recognize had passed around drinks. Danita made a mental note to find out who he was. Gabriel clearly knew, even though the guy hadn’t participated in the introductions.

“Our résumés aren’t any of your business,” the man to Gabriel’s left said. “We here to discuss forming a West Coast coalition. Not voting for class president.”

“All ventures, including a coalition, require a leader,” Gabriel said easily.

“And you think you’re the man for the job,” a huge man grumbled at the end of the table. Danita recognized him as Larson Yarnell, a known gunrunner.

“I think we all bring special skills to the table,” Gabriel said easily. “I wouldn’t try to tell you the ins and outs of smuggling weapons, Yarnell. Just like I have complete trust in Adams’s skills with internet fraud. Throw in Mikels’s drug connections, Banding’s theft rings and the rest of the connections in this room as we’ve got the makings of a solid coalition.”

From the shocked looks around the table, the men clearly hadn’t expected Gabriel to know that much about who they all were and what they did.

“What’re you bringing to the table?” Mikels asked quietly, a beam of light shining through the window to gleam off his bald head.

“Me? I bring a talent for organization to the table. I’m a man who knows how to make things happen. How to put all the elements together, arrange them in a way that makes the most money and benefits.”

“So?”

“So, I have the skill to bring all of your talents together in a way that will make us all very, very rich.” Gabriel’s smile flashed pure charm, but didn’t seem to be affecting the men around the table. Danita wondered if they’d overestimated talent. Maybe Hunter had called this wrong.