Hot in the City (13 page)

It would hurt afterward, but no more than it had hurt all week since she’d found the tracker in her bag.

When she was this close to him, she could lie to herself, and bury the hurt underneath desire. Running her hands over the expanse of his back and seeing the pulse in his throat pick up pace, she smiled. Forgetting was exactly what she wanted right now, and she knew Gabe could make that happen.

“Della...” He started to object as she slid a hand up to pull him down to her, kissing him so he wouldn’t say anything else.

She didn’t want to know what he was going to say, she only wanted to feel something good.

She pressed against him, reveled in how hard he was—so at least he
was
telling the truth about missing her.

“Della, no,” he said, stepping back slightly.

That stung.

“Wait.
Now
you’re unwilling to have sex with me, when I know the truth? Could you only do it while you were lying to me? Don’t worry, I still don’t know who you are, and I won’t come looking for you later,” she spat at him, turning away before her tears betrayed her.

She didn’t care who heard, though the music was so loud no one seemed to notice. Turning away, she rushed to the door, needing to get out. Her duties for the night were done, no one needed her—especially not Gabe.

* * *

G
ABE
CAUGHT
UP
in the parking lot, turned her back into his arms. She wrenched away, but he didn’t let her and then he saw her face, stained with tears, her features deeply etched with hurt.

“I’m sorry, Della, I... You know I want you. You have to know that,” he said.

But undoing what he’d done wasn’t that easy.

“Let me go.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

“Really? So why push me away? What are these mind games, Gabe? Why are you doing this?”

He wiped tears from her face with his thumb, surprised at how much it pained him to see her cry. Especially when he was the cause.

“It’s not mind games. It’s me trying to do the right thing. I do want you, but we need to talk.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk. There’s too much spinning around in my head already. I want to feel something good right now. That’s all. That’s all I was asking for. If you can’t do that, then leave.”

Gabe took a breath, realizing that he needed to come clean, to put everything right, to ease his own conscience. To tell her how he felt, so that
he
could feel better.

But what if she didn’t want that? What if he was too late, and all she wanted from him was, as she said, to feel good? Maybe the best thing for Della wasn’t
him
.

Suddenly, looking at her, he doubted that he could fix this, that he’d hurt her too much—and maybe all he could offer her was all they’d ever had. His heart sank, but he pushed that aside. Right now, this was about Della, and what she needed. Putting his needs aside, he focused on that, on giving her what she wanted.

“Okay, yes, I can do that,” he said, pulling her in against him, moving his hands over her neck and her back until she relaxed and softened into him. “I can definitely make you feel good.”

She nodded against his chest, and he lifted her face, glad to see the tears gone, and desire had replaced the sadness that was there before.

Her lips were salty from crying, though, a reminder of the damage he’d done, and while arousal gripped him, he slowed down, trying to undo some of it. The thought made him gentle, stroking her back and her arms, kissing her until she was leaning into him as if unable to stand.

“This is a good start,” she said against his throat, and he chuckled.

“Let’s go,” he whispered in her ear as people emerged from the restaurant behind them and he led her to the car.

But before he could start the engine, she was leaning against him, her hands everywhere, her tongue leaving hot little licks along his neck, under his ear.

“Della—”

“Just drive, Gabe.”

He knew she was using him to block out her pain, and that was the motivation for her aggressiveness, but he found it extremely erotic nonetheless. His body hardened under her insistent kisses and how she pressed her palm against him made it difficult to think straight, or focus on the city traffic, which thankfully lightened up as they made their way back to her apartment.

By the time he pulled into the parking space down the street, Gabe wasn’t sure he could get out of the car and walk the distance to the door without embarrassing himself. One look at Della, her hair mussed, lips swollen from kissing, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Stepping out of the car, he took her hand and they hurried toward the building. But before they reached it, he pulled her close, turning the tables. She’d nearly driven him mad on the journey over here, and now it was his turn. Maybe she was right—this was good, and it was nice to forget, for a few minutes, anyway.

“I missed you, Della,” he said raggedly as he closed his hands over her breasts, loving how she arched into his touch.

“No talking,” she said, panting out the words as her nipples budded against his palms.

“Oh, I’m going to talk. I’m going to tell you everything I want to do to you, and then I’m going to do it,” he said, leaning in to whisper raw, unadorned words in her ear between kisses.

She didn’t object, as they hurried to her door.

“Keys,” Gabe demanded.

She already had them in her hand, opened the door and they crowded inside, not bothering to turn on the lights.

That was fine with him—he was happy to feel his way, and his hands and lips knew Della like a blind man knew his own territory.

That didn’t mean there weren’t new things to explore.

Like the arch of her foot—he had never spent enough time there, he thought, as he took off her shoe and worked his thumbs over that soft spot, enjoying her sigh.

Or the deep cleft behind her knee. He’d sadly ignored that sensitive area, but addressed it thoroughly now with hot, open kisses that made her moan and gasp as he worked his way up her thigh.

“Oh, Gabe, please,” she cried out as he found the slick, aroused spot between her thighs that he teased with his tongue, only giving her enough to hold her on the edge.

“Nicholas,” he whispered against her skin.

“What?”

“My name is Nicholas,” he said. “Nick, if you want.”

If it was their last night together, which it might well be, he wanted to hear his real name on her lips.

“Nicholas,” she said softly, then again, and as she did so, it was like a barrier had dissolved between them, something giving way. She lay back on the wide bed, opening to him, giving herself freely, and Gabe—Nick—happily seized on the offer.

It felt good to hear her say his real name, and reminded him of how long it had been. To the point where sometimes he forgot to think of himself, his own name, as if
he
didn’t really exist. That had always been the case, for his own safety and that of his family—Bart wasn’t his boss’s real name, either, and Nick didn’t know his real one. None of them did. But now...hearing it on Della’s lips was one more step back into reality.

It changed everything. Gabe manipulated people, did his job, kept himself separate—always held back. But Nick...he wanted to give Della everything, to get so close that there was nothing between them, not even the breath it took to speak a name.

She didn’t want to talk, but actions always spoke louder than words anyway, right?

Gabe used words to deflect, to control. Nick didn’t say a word as he lifted up, pulled himself over her and looked down into her face, illuminated only by a sliver of light coming in through the curtains.

Pushing to his back, he brought her up, his hands framing her face as she splayed over him. He was hers, regardless of what happened after this, and his tender kiss sent the message that she could do what she wanted with him. Anything she wanted.

She quivered against him, seeming to understand as she pushed up over his chest, adjusting her seat so that she could take him in, which made him shudder.

No more words as she began to move—this was how they spoke to each other best, anyway. She sighed and fell forward, as if she didn’t want any distance between them. Nick reached down, covering her bottom with his hands, stroking and squeezing gently, but not controlling. There had been enough of that, and it felt good to let it go.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as she moved against him, seeking his mouth, mating her tongue with his as they both approached the point of no return. He swallowed her soft moans and sighs as she tightened around him, pulled him along in the current. He broke the kiss as he caught his breath at the power of his own release, saying her name, repeating it in a chant until the sensation ebbed.

He was grateful that she didn’t move away, didn’t leave him after the moment passed. Instead, she buried her face in his shoulder, resting her head there, her lips by his ear.

“Nick. I like that. It suits you better,” she said, and that was all.

He didn’t respond, but rubbed her back until her breathing evened. He stayed awake, wanting to soak up every minute. When she woke again, he was there, ready, and this time, he did take control, squeezing every last ounce of pleasure from them both, as if to store it up for the lonely time ahead.

As they fell asleep again near morning—this time, Nick couldn’t fight it—he thought he heard her say something, but his mind lost the words, only hearing her softly mumble, “Maybe we...”

Maybe we...
what?
All the possibilities the words contained followed him into his dreams.

12

D
ELLA
WAS
EXHAUSTED
, and relieved. And anxious. And...hopeful, as she examined herself in the mirror in the ladies’ room. The wedding had been a beautiful event, and the reception was in full swing. She’d done it, though she wasn’t as excited as she should have been.

Her experience with Nick eclipsed all of it. All she had been able to think was that Nick was there, watching her. Every time their eyes met, she relived every single moment of the night before.

Not Gabe, but Nick.

It seemed impossible to think that so much relied on knowing his real name, but the mood between them had definitely changed when he told her. It had been tangible, as if he had shifted bodies or something, finally relaxing, relenting and becoming someone she could connect with in a way that was about more than sex.

Still, he hadn’t told her his last name. That worried her. He was one step closer to her, but still kept something back.

Still, she couldn’t deny how amazing the night before had been, and not just the sex. Their joining had been more intimate, more...sharing. As if he was trying to tell her something without telling her.

She closed her bag, taking in her reflection and turning to walk out, when Chloe entered, looking as brilliant as she had all day. Della spotted the case in her hand and smiled.

“Getting ready to leave and head off on the honeymoon?”

Chloe smiled. “And then some. It was such a great day, thank you for everything, but I am so ready for the beach.”

Della smiled. “Let me help you change, as my last maid-of-honor duty.”

“Thank you, I was going to ask. Not sure that I can get out of this monster dress on my own,” Chloe said with a laugh, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Della asked, picking up on a strange vibe.

“Absolutely! Just tired,” Chloe answered, making her way back to the larger dressing room, where she could change.

As Della helped her undo the many small buttons on the back of the dress, Chloe glanced over her shoulder.

“That dress was exactly the right choice. It looks stunning on you, and Gabe seems to agree,” she commented. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all day. I guess you kissed and made up? Justin said you had an argument.”

Della smiled. “We did, and I’m glad. I’m sorry if I was in something of a bad mood yesterday.”

“I didn’t even notice, but I am glad you two are making a go of it.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but we’ll see what happens,” she said, sounding lighter and calmer than she felt.

Then, unexpectedly, Della’s cool dissolved as she undid the final button on Chloe’s dress. She couldn’t hold back hot tears that sprung from her eyes, unbidden.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping away from her friend to find some tissues.

“Della, what’s wrong?”

Chloe shucked the dress, wearing only her slip, and crossed the room to put a hand on Della’s shoulder.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, I mean, I do, but... I’m so sorry, I know this is completely selfish, and not the right time.”

Chloe’s brow scrunched in concern. “I’m your friend. Tell me.”

Della sat on the small bench next to Chloe, and told her everything. That she was in love with Gabe—whose real name was Nick—but that he was DHS undercover, and that he was looking for terrorists who had tried to steal data from a project she was involved in.

“He thought I might be in danger, but clearly that wasn’t the case, so I think he’ll still be leaving soon. He didn’t give me his last name. Technically, he’s undercover, and I want to be with him, but I just don’t think I can live with this. All the secrets. But I also don’t think I can live without him. Not happily,” she said miserably, but the tears had stopped.

Apparently, she had needed to say it all out loud, to share what had been eating her up inside for weeks.

“That does explain a lot,” Chloe said gently as she stood and crossed the room, reaching into her bag to grab a dress that she slid over her slip, and a pair of black flats, with it. “So he thinks this terrorist is someone you know?”

“That was the theory, but clearly he was wrong.”

Chloe folded her dress slowly, and picked up her phone, smiling as she typed something in.

“Sorry. Justin was wondering where I was.”

“You guys are so great together,” Della offered with a smile as Chloe put her wedding dress in the large bag and zipped it shut.

“I know. He’s waiting out by the entrance with Gabe—or rather, Nick—and so maybe we should go out to meet them,” Chloe suggested, picking up her things. “Don’t worry about Nick—I doubt he’s going anywhere. I can almost promise you that.”

“How can you know?”

Chloe chuckled. “Married-lady wisdom, I guess. I just don’t see him leaving your side.”

Della couldn’t agree, but hugged her friend and put on her game face as they left the dressing room to meet Justin and Nick.

But when they got to the entrance, the men weren’t there.

“Oh, okay,” Chloe said, checking her phone again. She nudged Della to turn around. “Go that way. We parked out back when we came in earlier.”

Della began walking toward the rear exit.

As they spotted the guys, Della paused for a moment. Something was off in Nick’s posture, and he was standing between Justin and his best man—they all seemed too serious.

As they got closer, Della searched their faces. “Is everything okay? You look so—”

“Please, just shut up,” Justin spat, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been listening to you prattle on for months, so right now, just be quiet, please.”

Della blinked.

Nick glared at him. “Watch yourself.”

Della gasped and lurched back as Justin delivered a punch to Nick’s middle, causing him to double over. “Justin!” Della froze then, as she felt something hard pressing into her back.

“Do what he said. Be quiet.” Chloe’s voice was hard and insistent. She sounded like an entirely different person.

Nick had straightened and Della focused on him, but his expression betrayed nothing. Something was very clearly wrong, but her shock was such that her thoughts were having a tough time catching up, especially to the fact that her good friend apparently had a gun pressed into her spine. “I don’t understand,” she said softly.

Justin stepped forward, his eyes like flint, wandering over her. “You do look good in that dress, though, I’ll give you that. Maybe we’ll get to see you out of it before we kill you, hmm?”

“Hey,” Chloe objected with a pout, to which Justin, who clearly wasn’t Justin, smiled widely and crossed to give her a hard kiss.

“Sorry, love—habit. But maybe I can give her to Pieter to play with.”

Nick stepped forward, and the other man, Justin’s best man, pulled him back, delivering another punch.

“You must be Pieter,” Nick managed, looking up at the man, who just grinned at him, saying nothing.

Della spun on Justin, her heart slamming as she tried to catch her breath and stem her panic.

“What do you want? Who are you?”

“Nick here knows who I am, he just didn’t connect the dots until about twenty minutes ago. The plastic surgeons you have here in New York, they truly are the best.”

“You’re Derian,” she whispered.

He laughed, and traced his finger along the low neckline of her dress.

She swatted his hand away; he caught her hand and rewarded her with a slap that stung tears into her eyes.

“Don’t touch her!” Nick growled, struggling with the man who was holding him back.

Della crossed toward Chloe—or whoever she was—and took in the gun pointed at her.

“How could you...why?” It was all she could manage.

Chloe stated simply, “Cedric is my life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Nothing at all,” she said with a mocking glance.

Della scanned the area, searching for help, for anyone who might see them, but they were completely isolated and alone in the back lot.

There were three of them against her and Nick, and she hardly counted. Apart from some basic self-defense she’d learned in a night class once, she had no idea how to deal with a situation like this.

And yet, she was still desperate for answers.

“Why me, though? What could you possibly want from me?”

“Your risk analysis was critical information for weaponizing the vaccine. But it took time to find it, and download it from your records. Then, that became the perfect back door into the lab, using your credentials, of course.”

“All this time?” She looked at Chloe in disbelief.

“No, not at first. Cedric and I met before I met you, and he told me what he needed, and why. I was happy to help. We knew he couldn’t approach you directly—you were nowhere near woman enough to handle a man like him,” she said with a disparaging look.

Justin laughed. “Yes, and you were so easy. All those nice dinners you made, while we asked to use your computer, check our email. Like, what is it you Americans say? Stealing candy from a baby.”

Della wavered a little, taking it all in. So they were right—she had been part of the leak that nearly allowed the formula to be stolen. It was all happening, all under her nose, and she never had a clue.

“We had to get into your home, into your computer, and have the time to do it—being good friends was the easiest way, and asking for your help on the wedding, which you were so eager to give, was the perfect distraction. It’s almost a little sad,” Chloe said with a mean-hearted chuckle.

Della stared at her, disbelieving, and suddenly very angry. “The only thing sad here is
you
,” she said softly to Chloe. “Selling out your country, your friends, for
him
? And you call me desperate? You know you were just part of his plan, and that he’ll probably do to you what he does to everyone he works with. Why do you think you’d be different?”

This time Chloe raised her hand, and Della flinched, but Justin—or rather, Cedric—stopped her from following through with the strike.

“Not yet, love. Later, we can have all the fun we want with her.”

He turned to Nick, who looked like he wanted to kill Derian on the spot.

“You have some work to do, Gabe. Oh sorry—Nick. We need the rest of the formula. You’re going to get it for us.”

“Fat chance.”

Cedric laughed. “Well, you see, now we have some insurance. At first, your presence was quite a problem, but then...a bonus. Especially since you and Della clearly care for each other. You would do anything you need to in order to save her, yes? Maybe I will give you that chance.”

“You will not lay one hand on her, or—”

Cedric stepped up close to Nick. “Oh, I will do
much
more than that, I promise you, if you don’t get me what I want.”

Nick shook his head. “It’s been moved to a secure facility. I might be able to get in, but it’s going to take time, and I’ll only do it if you let her go.”

“You are not in any position to make the terms,” Cedric said, moving back toward Della. “She is nothing to me, I could kill her now, and you, but I figured I would give you a chance.”

Terrified, Della met Nick’s eyes, but his expression was cool, inscrutable.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. They’re desperate because the people who wanted that formula are on their backs. They are very likely dead if they can’t deliver. Who is it that you’re so afraid of, Derian? What do you think they’re going to do to
your
pretty new wife when they find you?”

Della saw Chloe flinch, and Derian took a few more steps toward Nick, clearly angry. As he lifted the gun in Nick’s direction, she spoke quickly.

“But why did you follow me, wreck my home?”

Cedric stopped, as Chloe spoke.

“We hoped that would drive you to us, that you would come stay with us, and we would deliver you to our...partners. That’s what we’re going to do anyway, if your boyfriend here can’t get us what we want.”

“But why? I’m of no value.”

Derian shrugged. “They don’t know that, and short of handing them the formula, all we have to do is convince them you know more than you do. While they take their time torturing it out of you, we’d have time to disappear. Never go back empty-handed, and always have a plan B,” he said with a cruel smile.

“Unless he—ol’ Nick, there—can get the rest of the formula to us by tomorrow night, no later. Then perhaps we will let you live.”

Della’s heart sank, her shoulders drooping. “I doubt that very much. Don’t do anything they tell you,” she pleaded, speaking to Nick. “That’s my choice. Whatever happens here, it’s not your fault.”

She needed him to know that, because of what happened with Janet. She saw the agony on his face.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said, sliding his gaze to Derian. “I can find it. I’ll get it, but only if you let her go. I don’t care what you do to me, but if you don’t let her go now, we all lose. You get nothing.”

“Nick, no,” Della gasped.

“You’re all that matters to me, Della—period.”

Her heart caught in her chest, and then she saw it...a small red light reflected off of Cedric’s forehead.

Then another, on the man holding Nick by the car.

It was surreal as the bullet whizzed by her, and Pieter crumpled to the pavement. In the next second, Cedric was hit, and he also dropped to the ground.

Nick slumped next to Pieter just as something sharp hit Della on the back of her head, and her knees gave out, too.

* * *

N
ICK
SAW
D
ELLA
fall and his heart gave way, the pain in his shoulder nothing compared to the loss he felt when he saw her crumple to the ground.

All hell broke loose around them, guys coming in from the edges, appearing out of the darkness like ghosts, and he had no idea whose men they were—from his government, or Cedric’s team, or both—as he crawled over to where Della lay on the ground.

She moaned when he touched her head. She wasn’t shot, but hurt. His hand came away from her head covered in blood.

Someone grabbed him and reflexively, Nick fought back, rolling to shield Della’s prone form as he did so.