Undercover Father (13 page)

“I should have changed,” she said as she climbed into the SUV, but Rafe turned to face her, slowly taking in her navy linen slacks and off-white silk blouse.

Then those dark eyes met hers. “I’d say you look perfect.” He started the car and drove out of the structure and onto the evening streets. She watched him as he drove, and he spoke without looking at her. “The executive elevator’s on a separate control panel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you were wondering about me coming out of the elevator when I told you they weren’t working.”

“Oh,” she said, not about to tell him she was actually wondering how he could be so distracting, when all he was doing was driving the car. “And your clothes?”

“I keep a change at work, just in case.” He flashed her a glance accompanied by an easy smile. “I’ve just never had a reason to change before.”

She pressed her hands against the briefcase on her lap and for a moment missed her engagement ring. Ryan’s grandmother’s ring. It had been heavy on her finger. She covered her bare finger with her right hand and bit her bottom lip. She looked away from Rafe, out at the city around them, and felt removed from the real world. But stunningly, not alone. Not lonely at all. And she settled in the seat, letting the feeling wash over her, for now. Then the car slowed and she realized they were in a very upscale area of the city, and stopping at the valet parking of a restaurant she’d been to years ago. A very expensive restaurant she’d gone to with her brother, Quint, and his grown son.

She looked over at Rafe as he got out of the SUV, then got out when the attendant opened her door. Rafe took a ticket from the valet, then was by her side, touching her lightly on the elbow. But she didn’t move. He looked at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Can we...can we talk?” she asked in a voice just above a whisper. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him in front of the attendant.

“We can talk inside,” he said, but she stood her ground.

She looked past him toward some stone benches for customers waiting for their cars to be brought around. “Over there?” she asked, pointing to them.

He hesitated, then went with her, but he didn’t sit down. He turned to face her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and wary.

“This place,” she said in a low voice, leaning toward him to keep the conversation just between the two of them.

“You don’t like good food?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s very expensive,” she finally said, and let the words hang between them.

“I know,” he answered simply.

“But you don’t understand, this is
expensive.
The appetizers are over thirty dollars each. And you can forget about wine. It’s all cellared and it’s—”

He reached out and touched her lips with his forefinger, stopping her words midsentence. “I know,” he said. “And it’s okay.” His finger trailed slowly over her bottom lip before he drew back. “Can we go in now?”

“We can go Dutch,” she blurted.

That brought a soft laugh from him, then he murmured, “That won’t be necessary. Trust me.”

Before she could say anything else, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and headed inside. They were greeted by a man in a modified tuxedo, effusively welcoming them to La Porte D’or. They were lead into a private area with tables discreetly camouflaged from each other by strategically placed potted palms and ornate screens. In a room beyond, a pianist softly played old favorites.

Megan took the red velvet, high-backed chair that the host held out for her, then she sat facing Rafe. He accepted the wine list, scanned it, then looked at her. “Any preference in wine?”

“None for me, thanks.”

Then the host was gone, and Rafe looked across at her. “Relax. You’ll love the food here.”

She knew she would. She’d been here before. But that didn’t change the fact that he was spending more money than anyone should, and she couldn’t just sit back and let him do it. “Rafe, I’m not sure about this.”

He glanced at where her engagement ring had been, where she pressed her left hand to the white of the linen tablecloth. “Are you sure about the engagement?” he asked.

She drew her hand back, not about to explain herself to him—not now. “What does that mean?”

The waiter appeared and filled their goblets with ice water. Rafe lifted his and said, “To the best-laid plans.”

She couldn’t even reach for her glass. “Rafe, stop.”

He put his glass down, the water untouched. “Stop what?”

“I was wrong. I don’t think we should do this.”

“Do what?”

She motioned vaguely around them. “This. Any of it.”

He sat forward, rolling the stem of the fine crystal slowly back and forth with his thumb and forefinger. “Why don’t you explain that to me.”

She shrugged, then reached for her glass and took a sip, unnerved to see how unsteady her hand was. “Okay, this place is far too expensive.”

“You get what you pay for,” he murmured with narrowed eyes.

“I know, I know,” she said.

“Your Ryan doesn’t take you to places like this?”

“Yes, of course, but—”

He cut off her words with his own. “I’m just a lowly security guard and my manners might not be up to par. And I definitely don’t have the wherewithal to afford all of this. Is that it?”

“Yes. No, of course not, but—”

He held up one hand, palm out—the hand with his wedding band on it. “You’re right. This is a bad idea,” he said with thinly veiled anger.

The last thing she’d wanted to do was make him angry, or embarrass him, and she’d done both. He motioned to the waiter closest to them and asked for the bill.

“Rafe, no, I just—”

He drained the last of his water, took the leather container with the bill and laid it by his glass. He stared at Megan while he took out his wallet, extracted a bill, then laid it on the leather holder. “Let’s go,” he muttered, and stood, not waiting to see if she followed.

She glanced at the money he’d left—a hundred-dollar bill and all they’d had was ice water—then hurried after him. By the time she caught up, he was outside the front doors, waiting for the valet to get the car. She reached his side and looked up at him, but he was staring straight ahead. “Rafe, please, I was just trying to say that you didn’t need to do this.”

The SUV pulled up then. Rafe handed the valet a tip, then got in. For a moment she was certain he was going to drive off before she could open the door. But she managed to get into the car before he put it in gear. The silence in the car was beyond painful, and she tried several times to think of something to say. Anything. She couldn’t bear the wall between them. A wall she’d built by offending him, when she’d only been trying to protect him.

But she couldn’t begin to find the words to apologize, so she sat back in the seat as they drove through the city. It took her a while to realize that Rafe wasn’t taking her back to LynTech to get her car. He was taking her right home. “My car’s at the office,” she said, turning to him.

He kept going as if she hadn’t said anything.

“Rafe, my car—”

“Is safe in the security garage,” he muttered.

He wouldn’t stay in the car with her any longer than necessary. “You’ve got your briefcase and your cell phone, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

He kept driving. “Then you can do your work at the loft.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “I simply was pointing out that my car’s not here and so I won’t have a car to get to work tomorrow.”

“Good point,” he finally said.

But he didn’t turn around. He kept going. “Rafe...” she said, frustration rising in her.

“Oh, come on,” he finally muttered as they approached the street where the loft was. “People like you can call a taxi. You don’t have to worry about money.”

“Stop it,” she muttered.

He did stop, but not his words. Rather, the SUV at the curb in front of the loft. “I’ll pay for a cab,” he said. He braked with a lurch, then got out and opened her door. Before she could do anything he was pushing money at her. “Here, use what’s left over for a tip.”

She looked down at the bill in her hand. Another hundred dollars. “No,” she gasped, and thrust his hand away.

They faced each other on the sidewalk for an interminable moment, then he slowly and deliberately folded the bill in quarters and tucked into into her blouse pocket with her cell phone.

“Keep it,” he said, and went around to get in the car, leaving her standing there to watch him take off in a squeal of tires.

CHAPTER TWELVE

M
EGAN
FELT
HER
legs go rubbery and tears burn her eyes as she hurried to the entrance of the loft. She fumbled in her briefcase to get her keys, and wanted to scream when they weren’t there. “Think, think,” she muttered to herself, more than aware of the deserted street and her vulnerability standing outside. “Think!” The keys. She’d had them in Mary’s office, on top of her briefcase, and remembered picking them up when she went upstairs.

She’d gone into her cubicle, sorted the papers for Mr. Lawrence, and remembered having them in her hand in his office. Then... Her heart sank. She’d left them on Mr. Lawrence’s desk. She could almost visualize them sitting by her briefcase when she’d put his envelope on the desk. And then Rafe had shown up, and she’d never thought about the keys again.

“Oh, man,” she breathed, looking around, without any idea what to do. Trig was long gone, and he hadn’t given her the extra key or told her if it was hidden anywhere. And she didn’t know anyone else in the warehouse. She looked at the call box and saw two names by the lower loft addresses. M. Bordeaux and R. E. Randall. She took a breath, then hit the buzzer for M. Bordeaux, but it went unanswered. “Not home,” she muttered, and hit the other button. After two buzzes, a voice came over the speaker. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I live upstairs and I locked myself out. Could you buzz me in?”

“What’s the name?”

“Gallagher.”

“Nope, don’t know any Gallagher living here,” the voice said, and she could tell it was male and older.

“Sir, I’m just staying here for a month, and I—”

“Nope, I’m not stupid. I know the scams out there to get into buildings. You just go away,” the voice said, then cut off.

Megan stared at the call box, then reached in her shirt for her phone. She watched it fade and die. She hadn’t charged it today, and the thing was dead and useless.

“Great, just great,” she muttered. “What a mess!”

“What’s a mess?” a voice asked from behind her, a voice that startled her so much that the briefcase fell from her hold and landed on the ground at her feet.

She turned, and Rafe was there, hunkered down, putting the things that had spilled on the ground back into her briefcase. She stared at the top of his head, totally unable to think of one thing to say while she dealt with the overwhelming joy at seeing him there. But the joy was short-lived when he stood with her briefcase in his hands, and the dark eyes weren’t filled with any pleasure at all.

“Here,” he said.

She took the case, hugging it to her chest. “What are you doing back here?” she asked.

“Why are you still outside?”

“I forgot my keys again. Now why are you here?”

“I forgot something,” he said.

She put the phone back in her pocket and at the same time took out the folded currency. “Here.”

He looked at the bill, but didn’t move to take it. “I don’t want that.”

She balled it up in her hand. “Then what do you want?”

“How are you going to get inside?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find a pay phone, get a cab and go back to work and try to find my keys.”

“Your cell phone?”

“Dead.”

“Sad,” he said with a shake of his head. “Why don’t you just ring someone in the building to let you inside?”

“I already did, and the only one to answer thought I was trying to get into the building to rob him or something.” She shrugged. “Besides, even if I get in, I can’t open the door to the loft.”

Rafe looked up and down the street, then back at her. “How’s the cat getting in and out these days?”

“Through the transom over the fire escape window.”

“The transom’s open?”

“It was when I left.”

“Stay right here. I’ll see what I can do,” he said, then jogged off to the far side of the warehouse, to a narrow walkway that led to the alley behind the structure. He disappeared from sight, but she could hear his shoes striking the ground until they faded off into the distance. And she was alone.

She hugged her briefcase to her, and that sense of loneliness started to seep back into her spirit. But before long, the door buzzed and clicked. Grateful to finally be inside, she practically ran to the elevator and headed upstairs. When she reached the loft, Rafe stood in the doorway.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“It’s a long story,” he said, brushing his hands together. “But I got in.”

She fought the urge to brush at the soot on his cheek. She put her briefcase on a table by the entry, closed the door and turned to see Rafe disappearing into the kitchen. Then there was the sound of water running. “Just cleaning up,” he called out to her.

“Sure,” she murmured, and kicked off her shoes. Then he was there, coming back into the room, his shirt untucked from his slacks and completely unbuttoned. The soot was gone from his face and hands, but his shirt was ruined. “I owe you a shirt,” she said as he came closer to where she stood.

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you going to tell me how you got in?”

He motioned to the fire escape window and she noticed it was half-open now. “The transom was open, and I managed to get the lock off the window. The rest, as they say, was a piece of cake.”

“But how did you get up on the fire escape to begin with?”

He looked a bit sheepish. “Old habits die hard, I’m afraid.”

“What does that mean?”

“When I was a kid, we played a game to see who could get a fire escape ladder down the fastest. I usually won.” He raked both hands through his slightly damp hair and gave her a wry grin. “No, I wasn’t poor and roaming the streets looking for houses to rob. I just had a knack for getting into places. Fire escapes are easy, except pretty dirty.” He brushed at his shirt. “Back then I didn’t care about the mess.”

“I’ll...I’ll get you another shirt,” she said, her voice tight as he came closer, stopping about a foot away from her.

“No. Thanks, but no,” he murmured softly.

She crossed her arms on her chest, as if that could protect her from what was happening. “You never said why you came back,” she managed to murmur, barely recognizing her own voice.

Rafe knew exactly why he’d come back to this woman. He’d known the minute he’d pulled away from the curb that he had to return. But once he’d seen her, he’d withdrawn from the truth. Now it stared him right in the eye. He’d come back because he had to. He couldn’t just drive away. He had to be here, and do what he’d wanted to for what seemed forever. He touched her shoulders, felt her tense at the contact, then leaned even closer and found her lips with his.

As soon as he kissed her he knew that he’d done the right thing.

Rafe waited for that moment when he knew he’d betrayed everything he’d had in his life. That moment when he knew this was wrong. But it never came. There was no sense that he’d been unfaithful to the memory of his wife. He’d loved Gabriella, but in a stunning moment of truth, he knew it was okay to love Megan. This love was all hers. It wasn’t some secondhand version. It was different and unique, all Megan, and it filled his heart.

He felt his eyes smart as relief flowed over him. It was okay. Okay! He loved her. As he hugged her, he kissed the top of her head, inhaling that scent of flowers and sweetness that clung to her. He loved her, and it was okay. He closed his eyes, a sense of completion filling him, as if he’d found what he’d been looking for. That didn’t make sense, but he wasn’t going down that road now. Not yet.

There was a muffled ringing sound. A phone. His cell phone? He said in a low voice, “Yes?”

“You told me to call if there was activity from LynTech after eight.”

It took Rafe a long moment to recognize the voice of one of the people he’d contacted over the weekend when he’d been in Fort Worth having Greg checked by their family doctor. Stanley Green was one of the best wiretappers in the business. “What have you got?”

“Out line use from an office marked on the grid as empty.”

“What use?”

“Computer fax.”

“Any destination?” He listened and then replied, “Yeah, just where I thought it would go.”

A few days ago he’d finally realized what was probably going on and had set things up with Stanley. But he hadn’t expected results this quickly. “Good. Get that to me at...” He looked over at Megan, who had wandered into the kitchen to give him privacy. “Send it to my house. I’ll look at it and get back to you in two hours.”

“You got it,” Stanley said, and hung up.

Rafe turned his phone off, then looked at the wedding band on his finger. Slowly, he slipped it off and put it in his pocket. He’d find a safe place to keep it, but he wouldn’t wear it anymore.

Rafe walked into the kitchen, crossed to Megan’s side and kissed her. “Sorry, have to leave.”

“Go. I’ll see you later.”

He kissed her again and then left the loft, hurrying down to the street and his car. He got in, took out his cell phone and put in a call to Zane. Tomorrow he’d see Megan. That simple thought brought him real pleasure. Tomorrow. And for the first time in a long time, he looked forward to all the tomorrows in his life.

Megan awoke early the next morning. Her shower was quick. She needed to get to the office. When she got out and dried off, she dressed in taupe linen slacks and a rich gold shirt. When she stepped back out into the main room, she stopped when the phone rang. She hurried to it, wanting it to be Rafe, but felt her heart lurch when Ryan spoke over the line.

“Megan?”

She glanced at the clock by the computer. It was five in the morning in California. “Ryan. It’s so early,” she said, because she really didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ve been giving you space. I wanted you to think on what you said about breaking things off. I wanted...” His voice trailed off, then he said, “Is it really over?”

Megan closed her eyes. “Yes. I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I told you. It’s not right. I’ll send your grandmother’s ring back as soon as I can. I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

“Are you sure?”

She was so very sure. She loved Rafe. Now she knew what love was supposed to be. And she knew how much it could hurt, too. “I’m sure.”

There was silence, then the line clicked on the other end, and Ryan was gone. She took a deep breath, and knew she’d let go of Ryan and any plans they had the moment she’d met Rafe.