Hot in the City (5 page)

He took a sip of his wine, looking away. He was going down a road he would rather avoid. What was it about Della?

“Thanks for sharing with me. I had doubts, too, believe me. I came up with the game idea because I didn’t have the nerve to call you. If you hadn’t shown up tonight, I could have saved some face, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t have said no, if you had called.”

“Chloe said I need to take control of my fate, to ask for what I want, go after it. I’ve always been good at that professionally. Not so much on a personal level,” she confessed, taking a deep drink of her wine.

“Hmm. Why don’t you tell me now? Tell me what you want,” he said, dropping his voice, changing the tone of their conversation to a different kind of intimacy. One he could handle much more easily.

She started to say something, then stopped. Her expression was intrigued, but reluctant. Shy. Gabe wanted to show her, again, how sexy she was.

“How much privacy do we have here, Della?” He leaned in to kiss a spot behind her ear that he knew drove her wild. Her breath caught and a tremble that moved through her limbs was his reward.

“Lock that main door and we’re completely alone for as long as we want to be.”

It was exactly what Gabe wanted to hear.

* * *

D
ELLA
STOOD
WATCHING
as Gabe jogged up the aisle to close the door and then turned back, slipping off his loosened tie as he returned. She was rooted to the spot, her entire being vibrating in anticipation, desire thrumming through her, wiping out any vestige of exhaustion or tension from the day.

He threw his tie on the blanket, and his coat, too. Then he rejoined her, sliding his hand up into her hair, cradling her head gently as his eyes moved over her face.

“What do you want, Della?” he repeated.

Everything
, she thought. Her imagination was wading into perilous waters, the ones that existed far past “just sex.” She had no business there.

“Kiss me.”

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her like his life depended on it. Her need met his on exactly the same level, returning his passion with all of her own. As if he had been as hungry for her as she was for him.

“I want to touch you,” she said against his mouth, finding the second request easier.

His arms left her, and he started unbuttoning his shirt, but she stopped him.

“Let me,” she said, planting a soft kiss at the base of his throat as she pushed his fingers away and worked the buttons herself, removing the dress shirt from his shoulders. She loved the masculine look of the white T-shirt he wore underneath. The soft cotton teased the backs of her fingers as she slid her hand up underneath it, making him groan and his muscles tense.

She lightly drew her nails down his chest, experimenting, watching his reactions. It
was
magic, she thought as she noticed the pulse in his throat, to make a man’s heart beat so quickly with only a touch.

“You make me lose my mind, Della, with one kiss, one touch.”

Peering up at him from under her lashes she smiled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Bolder, she pushed the shirt up over his head and then trailed kisses down his pectorals. Then the tip of her tongue landed along the light trail of hair that led to the band of his trousers. When she unbuttoned them, and let the back of her hand run along his prominent erection as she lowered the zipper, he let out a hissing breath, his hands closing into fists.

“Della,” he gasped as she removed his pants, leaving teasing licks up the length of his strong thigh.

“Shhh,” she admonished, focused on her goal, enjoying this seduction. “This is what I want.”

She took him into her mouth, experimenting to find what made him tense or arch closer, clench his hands or groan. He touched her gently, as if needing to keep touching her.

His breathing deepened, his muscles taut, but Della took her time. She set about discovering what he liked in great detail, memorizing every contour and every response. To her delight, some of her reading and research in such things ended up paying off, driving him nearly over the edge.

“Della, please, stop,” he begged raggedly, reaching down to pull her up next to him. She met his eyes with a sense of wonder.
She
had put that look of raw desire and urgent need on his face, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced. She reached up to kiss him full on the lips, unable to stop touching him.

He accepted the kiss fervently as his hands were busy peeling the dress from her. She helped, starting to kick off her heels as well.

“No, those stay on,” he said, breaking the kiss as he released her breasts from the scanty bra she wore.

“Wow,” he said, tracing the edge of the transparent lace.

“It’s new,” she confessed, watching him caress her. She’d worried earlier if he would like it.

It was very clear that he approved, and then some, though neither of them was in the mood to admire lingerie.

She felt sexy and wanton as he stepped back to take a long look at her standing there in her stockings and heels. Her self-consciousness was gone, completely. She knew how much he wanted her, and that knowledge made no room for doubts.

She turned to find her bag on a nearby seat, and took the protection she’d brought from inside, returning to him, not dropping her gaze from his as she covered him.

“I want
you
,” she said, her limbs feeling molten. She liked this business of taking control, asking for what she wanted.

No more words were needed. He simply brought her up against him, their bodies and mouths meeting in an ecstatic reunion. Della was quivering from head to toe as he slowly lifted her knee to wrap her leg around the back of his.

He eased inside of her with such gentleness that tears threatened against the backs of her eyelids, but intense pleasure quickly chased them away. Already, their bodies knew each other so well. It was all so familiar, and yet everything was a new discovery, a new height she hadn’t climbed before.

“You are the sweetest thing,” he said against her lips, going in for another deep kiss. The embrace wiped any thoughts from her mind as she clung to him, letting him take over as she rode out the crest of a climax that had her sighing against him.

Gabe thrust faster as she came, his entire body hardening as he held her tight and buried his face in her neck, both of them beyond any coherent words. Her world was a blur of exquisite sensation as she hung on and she was momentarily shocked when he stopped, loosening his hold and stepping back from her for a moment.

His chest was heaving, glistening with sweat. She took him in, all hard muscle and jutting desire, feeling her knees go weak.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, unsure what made him stop.

“Honey, you’re perfect. But come here, like this,” he said, turning her so she could plant her hands on the edge of the stage next to them. He stood behind her, his hands coming around to her breasts as he filled her again. The resistance of the position made Della so hot she started moving against him, needing more.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged as his big hands caressed her breasts and then dipped lower, catapulting her over the edge again.

He kept going, incredibly, telling her how gorgeous she was in great detail. How soft, how tight, how hot. He ran his hands over the backs of her thighs, admiring her shape and letting her know how beautiful she was until he was wordless and frantic, groaning. He soon brought her to yet one more knee-weakening orgasm, and let go along with her, his face buried at the side of her neck.

Tenderness welled inside of her at the way he held her, slowing his pace. She turned, wrapping her arms around him and holding him until they both caught their breath.

The star-filled space was quiet as they lowered down to the blanket. Della shivered a little, and Gabe grabbed his jacket, pulling it over her.

“No, I’m—” she objected, not wanting to ruin his coat, but he wrapped her in it anyway, keeping her snug against him.

They stayed that way for some while, and Della dozed off, waking up some time later to find Gabe asleep as well. She had no idea what time it was. They should probably leave before the cleaning staff came around to prepare for the next day, but she took several moments to look at Gabe’s features in sleep, so relaxed and handsome. He was such a good man, she thought, but she was also sure he didn’t believe that. She could tell, by the way that he touched her, and the things he said.

She could sense the tension inside of him, though. He did difficult things for his work, made tough calls, and it had a price. A lesser man wouldn’t feel it the way Gabe did.

She reached out, running her hand over his chest, and then up to cup his jaw, stroking his cheek. His eyes opened, seeing her, smiling, and then wider, as he realized where they were.

“What time is it?” he asked, focusing on her with sudden sharpness.

“It’s okay. I think we still have time to clear out before anyone shows up.”

She leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you for tonight. This was amazing. I’ll never forget it.”

He seemed flustered by that, unsure what to say, which she found sweet. She was usually the one who was feeling awkward and unsure. Giving him a moment, she turned to grab her bag and phone, and checked the time.

“It’s only a little after three, but we really should get going,” she said with some measure of regret.

He nodded in agreement. They stood, quietly finding their clothes, dressing and picking up their belongings.

“Annie, the security guard you met, showed me which exit to use and the code for the lock.”

“That’s a lot of trust,” he commented, walking beside her.

“We’ve been friends for a while, and I volunteer here on a regular basis. They change the codes every day,” she said with a smile.

“I guess we’d better go before they change them and we have some explaining to do,” he said with a smile.

Della liked to see Gabe smile, and she was honored that he seemed to do it a lot with her.

As they emerged out into the chilly early morning and walked toward the subway station, she turned to him.

“I want to see you again,” she said in a soft tone. “I want as much of you as I can have, in the time you’re here. But I know you have doubts, and work to do, so...if you want to see me, too, I’d love to hear from you. If not, I understand,” she said, lifting up to kiss him one more time. “Thank you.”

It was so difficult to turn around and walk away, not waiting for an answer. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

Della wouldn’t contact him again, not when she knew it could cause him problems or distract him from his work. He had to make that decision, and she would respect it.

She’d thought they could have an easy affair, but not when there might be consequences. To his work, her heart. Perhaps it was best that this might be the last time she ever saw him.

The thought tugged at her as she stepped on the late night train, which was deserted, and sped toward her neighborhood. She chased the dread away, determined to live only in the moment, because the moment had been very good indeed.

5

G
ABE
RAN
DOWN
the street by a small park, pushing his body to the limit, even though he’d gotten nearly no sleep again the night before. The day had been a complete loss, his concentration was shot. There had been a security breach at the lab—someone had made an attempt to steal the dummy information—but the connection had been untraceable, even by their experts.

And amid that, all he could think of was Della walking away from him three nights before. He’d decided not to contact her again, even though he wanted nothing more than to be with her, to lose himself in her softness, to escape the dark of his own reality by spending time with Della.

It wasn’t fair. She didn’t know who he was, or what he did. Not really, in spite of her empathy when they had spoken.

She had opened herself to him and he couldn’t do the same. He was self-aware enough to know that what was between them was close to becoming about more than sex. So it was time to walk away, because that was what he was going to have to do anyway. It would hurt them both a lot more to do it later than sooner.

So he thought. It seemed the longer he was away from Della, the more he thought about her. Not good, especially now. Maybe a long, hard run would work off his frustration and allow him to clear his head and get some sleep.

He tried to shut out everything but work, to put her behind him, but the acute sensation of emptiness he’d experienced in her absence was unexpected. Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he’d missed anyone.

He was probably missing the sex, but still. Turning around, he headed back toward the lab, where he could shower, change and get back to work. He had to find something soon, or they’d take him off the investigation.

Thoroughly spent, he took the elevator rather than the stairs, and walked into the locker rooms used by the science staff, where he had been given temporary accommodations. The showers were for daily decontamination, but they worked well enough to clean up. Back in his suit, he headed to the office, feeling a bit more focused.

Until he opened the door.

“Bart. What are you doing here?”

His boss raised an eyebrow, as if wondering why Gabe would be so surprised.

“There’s new information, the kind I’d rather deliver personally.”

Gabe frowned, closing the door. “Shoot.”

“Look at these.”

Bart handed him a folder. Most of the pictures were of a man, taken in various locations around the world. His appearance was different in each shot, and Gabe assumed he took on different identities as well. That was par for the course.

“Who is it?”

“Cedric Derian,” Bart answered. “He’s an Armenian operative we’ve followed for a while.” Bart indicated to him to keep paging through the report. “Derian’s primarily an information broker for different governments, though he has been involved in some other aspects of trade, weapons, some human trafficking. He entered the US about a year ago, but we lost track of him shortly after that.”

“About the time the vaccine project started up.” Gabe’s tone was grim.

Bart nodded. “He has to be the one after it—though we don’t know for whom. We have to find him, who he’s working with, and we have to stop him before he gets what he’s after—which he is exceedingly good at.”

Gabe nodded. “Any solid leads? I mean, he could be operating from anywhere.”

“We’re working on it. There was some chatter, but it’s hard to trust at this point. Finding him takes precedence over everything else. We need to go back over all of the surveillance so far—all of it, the interviews, the reports—and dig deeper. He’s connected to someone on the project, we just have to find out who and how. If we find his asset, they could lead us to him.”

“Makes sense.”

“Chances are, his asset is in danger, too. We can use that. Derian is not known for leaving loose ends. He wiped out his own team on his last job—he doesn’t leave any connections behind, which is part of what makes it tough to track him. He makes sure no one is left behind who might lead to him.”

Gabe frowned, studying the photos. Who was he posing as now, and where was he? Finding him in a city of eight million would be a good trick, unless they could get someone to talk.

And if he had to interview everyone he had already been investigating... This meant talking to Della again, too. Maybe.

“What?” Bart asked.

Gabe looked at him, and realized his very perceptive boss had read the change in his expression when he’d been thinking about Della.

Another reason he should stay away from her.

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about revisiting the interviews, where to start.”

“You were thinking about someone in particular.” It was a statement, not a question. Gabe had to come clean.

“There was a consultant, a mathematician who teaches at Columbia, who worked on the project early on. Dr. Della Clark. She did computational work, risk analysis, and she had no actual connection to the vaccine itself. I checked her out when I got here. I thought she might be a possibility, but she was clean. Probably not worth looking into again.”

Bart leaned in, studying him closely. “How thoroughly did you check her out, if I might ask?”

Gabe took a breath. He and Bart had been friends, and had worked together, side by side, for a long time. Bart had moved up the ladder because he was better in management, and Gabe always preferred the field. He’d been there when Janet died, and he’d always had his back. Bart knew Gabe well, and not just as an agent.

“I went through her files, computer records and emails, the usual. I also checked out her home, did the standard sweep. Nothing.”

“And?”

Gabe dropped the file on the desk.

“And I slept with her. She was cute, and open to it. It was the easiest way to get inside her home.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times did you sleep with her?”

“You mean in one night? Isn’t that a little personal?”

Gabe’s sarcastic deflection didn’t work. Bart sighed.

“So I assume you’ve seen her more than once. You’re involved?”

Gabe narrowed his gaze. “Are you asking as a friend or my boss?”

“Both. Is this something I should worry about in either case?”

Gabe shook his head. “No. I won’t see her again. She’s not likely to be involved beyond her initial work. She’s very smart, but she’s also...innocent.”

“Not very, if she’s sleeping with you,” Bart said, huffing a laugh.

Gabe shot him a warning look, and realized that was what Bart was going for. His boss pinned him with a shark-like gaze.

“So you
are
involved. You didn’t like me saying that. Listen, as your friend, knowing what you’ve been through, I’m happy for you, but this can’t get in the way of this mission. I’ll have someone else look deeper—you won’t be objective.”

Gabe bridled. “I’ve
already
checked her out, and I was thorough.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Bart—”

Bart put up a staying hand. “If you can’t maintain objectivity in this investigation, Gabe, then I have to remove you from it—or at least from dealing with her. For your own safety as well as hers.”

“It’s not even worth bothering about, I’m telling you—”

Bart interrupted. “When you read the files, you’ll see that Derian often uses academics—it’s one of the few consistent things he’s done. Dr. Clark could be more of a suspect than you think. That you are ruling her out so easily already makes me wonder if she hasn’t snowed you, or if you’re just letting the past affect your judgment. You haven’t really been serious about anyone since Janet, and I can see in your face that you like this woman. Maybe more than like?”

Gabe sucked in his anger, cooled down. Bart was right. On every score.

“I’ll admit, I don’t want her to be involved. She’s...a nice person. But I had a few doubts as well, and I can do my job. Frankly, if she is involved with Derian, and he is what you say he is, I
want
to be involved.”

“So you can protect her.”

“If necessary, yes. But she also trusts me. She’s not going to trust someone else who just walks into her life so easily. She’s not stupid.”

Bart stared hard at him for several seconds, then nodded. “Fine. But you keep in touch with me, every step of the way. The main objective is not only finding Derian, but discovering who he’s working for. We need to know who wants the vaccine, how much they know and who else might know. If it turns out that Dr. Clark needs to come in for interrogation, you inform me, and I’ll do it.”

Every one of Gabe’s muscles tightened at the thought, but he knew he couldn’t object as his gut did. He nodded stiffly instead. “Got it.”

“You can do that?”

“I wouldn’t like it, but I’ll do my job.”

Gabe meant that, and Bart knew he did. At the end of the day, he
would
do his job, even if he didn’t like it. Most of all, he didn’t let his friend see his resistance to letting anyone else investigate or interrogate Della, and he swallowed his own fear that she might be involved with Derian.

“I’ll get into her house again, when she’s not home—plant some surveillance, monitor her visitors through the local street cameras. And I’ll bring Petroski back in, apply more pressure. Let her know she’s in danger if she doesn’t come clean.”

“Wouldn’t that be the approach to use with Dr. Clark as well? Or what about using her feelings for you? To make her tell you what she might know, if she thinks you are at risk in some way? Which you are, if she’s working with Derian. Meaning this just became a lot more dangerous.”

“I’ll keep my guard up.”

Bart frowned now. “You sure you’re up for this, Gabe? After losing Janet, I wasn’t positive you were even coming back to the job. That you could. If you care for this woman, this isn’t exactly the way to build something, if you want to see her after this mission is over. If she’s innocent.”

“I don’t want that.” Gabe took a breath, feeling the tug of the lie in his chest. “She already knows that. Anyway, it’s not the same thing, not by a long shot. Janet was my partner, and yes, we got involved emotionally. Losing her was...rough. But I’ve only known Della, Dr. Clark, for a week...less. I like her, but I’m not so far in that I can’t let it go.”

Bart stood, nodding. “Okay, then do it. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. You do the same.”

“I will.”

Bart left and Gabe picked up the folder again, scrutinizing each picture of Cedric Derian, and then started planning his approach with Della and the other suspects.

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to the zing of anticipation at seeing her again, but he also feared for what he might find. With any luck, Della wasn’t involved, as he originally suspected, and the only real danger either of them would be in was not being able to walk away again.

* * *

D
ELLA
EMERGED
FROM
the subway station at 88th, soaking up the full bloom of the New York summer. Passing by tourists heading to the park and the natural history museum, she smiled at the children and admired the small gardens planted on stoops and in the alleys between the beautiful buildings in the area.

She was feeling as if she was in bloom as well, enjoying the sunny sky and the beauty around her after having worked all morning. She’d slept well and had put on a pretty summer dress—one delivered to her that morning, in a box, with simple instructions written in masculine handwriting. Heels, too.

Gabe.

Putting on the dress had been so intimate—especially as she thought about him taking it off when they met later that evening. He had only put a card with an address in the dress box, and nothing else.

It was exciting, and fun.

She liked how her shoes clicked along on the pavement. She had to learn to walk easily in them sometime, as she’d be wearing them at the wedding.

Her confidence was high, and that largely had to do with how one very handsome man made her feel about herself. Gabe believed she was beautiful, and sexy—and his desire for her was very persuasive. Della decided it was time she started thinking that about herself, too. If a man like Gabe wanted her so intensely, then why shouldn’t she believe it?

She stopped by one stoop where fat, red tomatoes were drooping from their stems and the aroma of the fresh basil and peppers growing beside the concrete steps filled the air. An older man rose from his crouch behind a thick tomato bush, and she smiled at him through the vines.

“Hi, Vince. Your tomatoes are stunning, and passers-by can smell the basil before they get here. I wish I had your green thumb,” she said, thinking about her sad little greenery on the terrace outside her bedroom.

“You’re too kind, Della. You come by on your way home, I’ll give you some for a sandwich. They are the best in the city,” he said with a toothy grin.

She heard Vince, but was distracted by a man leaning on a car across the street. He looked familiar, like she had seen him somewhere before, but she couldn’t place him. She shook her head at the notion, smiling at Vince.

“Maybe you can show me how to keep a plant alive one of these days,” she said with a laugh, looking across the street again. The man was gone. “But until then, I’d love some of your tomatoes.”

“How is your painting coming along?”

She sighed. “I haven’t had much time for it. I’m on my way to dance lessons now, you know, for the wedding. It’s been taking all of my extra time.”

It was a small white lie. Della couldn’t tell her friend that what had been taking a lot of her extra time was extremely hot sex with a man she met on a plane.

Vincent offered a raspy chuckle, his eyes narrowing under the rim of his wide gardening hat.

“There’s a man, isn’t there? You finally met someone on one of those dating websites?”

Della’s jaw dropped in astonishment, and he laughed, waving her off.

“I have four daughters. I can tell when you have a man in your life. You look happy. I like the dress,” he said with a wink. “It’s reminiscent of Claude.”

Della shook her head, but laughed, too. Vince was a sweet guy, a retired art professor who taught the watercolor class she took now and then. She looked down at the flowers on her dress. “They do look like a Monet, don’t they? Like
The Iris Garden at Giverny
. That’s probably why I liked it so much.”