In Bed with the Enemy (6 page)

“I've lost my mind,” she muttered. “That's the only explanation for this insanity.”

But twenty minutes later, as she walked out onto the clubhouse patio where the barbecue was being held, her lips still tingled and she couldn't seem to stop the restless feeling deep inside her. “It's just hunger,” she muttered.

She'd skipped breakfast and it was well past noon. Like everything else in town, the inn's dining room had closed down for the festivities taking place at the
country club. If she didn't eat here, there wasn't much chance of finding something anywhere else.

“It's good to see you again, doll.”

At the sound of the gravelly male voice, the skin along the back of Elise's neck prickled and a chill slithered up her spine. Turning, she barely controlled the urge to draw back. “Hello, Mr. Valente.”

“Have you eaten yet?” His beady eyes peered at her like those of a rattlesnake watching its prey.

“I was just about to order.”

His grin made her feel as if she needed a trip back to the locker room for another shower. “I already have a table. I insist that you join me.”

“No, thank you. I have work to do,” she said, turning to place her order. She hoped he'd get the message and leave her alone. “Could you make that to go?” she asked the teenager working behind the counter.

When Valente placed his hand at her elbow and jerked her away from the booth, Elise winced. His fingers bit into her skin, and his smile had turned to a deep scowl. “I insist, doll. It's not polite to give someone the bum's rush when he's cooperating with your investigation.”

Elise felt a tiny tremor of trepidation skitter through her. Surely he wouldn't try anything in the middle of a crowd. “I told you I don't have time, Mr. Valente,” she said firmly. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take my food and leave.”

“Make that two plates for here,” she heard Cole tell the girl behind the counter. Walking over to stand beside her, he nodded an acknowledgment to the man gripping her arm. “Valente.”

John Valente looked anything but happy to see Cole. “I was just asking Miss Campbell to join me for lunch, Yardley,” he said, loosening his painful grip on her arm.

“I'm afraid you're a bit late. Elise and I arranged to meet here after our swim.”

When Cole placed his arm around her shoulders, then leaned down to give her a quick kiss, she didn't even think to protest. John Valente gave her the creeps and no matter what she'd told Cole about her self-defense skills, she wasn't eager to put them to the test in front of the entire town of Mission Creek.

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. Why don't you go find a table for us while I wait for our lunch.”

To Cole's relief, Elise didn't argue and turned to walk across the patio to a group of tables that had been set up on the lawn beneath a live oak tree. “Let me warn you, Valente,” he said as he watched her lower herself into one of the patio chairs. “I don't appreciate you bothering my lady.” Turning back to the man, pure fury burned deep in Cole's gut at the thought of the mobster's slimy hands on Elise's tender skin. “It better not happen again. Because if it does, you'll find out just what a mean son of a bitch I can be when I'm crossed.”

“That goes both ways, Yardley,” Valente sneered a moment before he walked away.

Cole watched the crime boss disappear inside the clubhouse. At that moment, nothing would have pleased him more than the pleasure of burying his fist in Valente's ugly face, to prove to the man that he'd meant every word he'd said.

When the teenager working the food booth handed Cole two disposable containers, he turned to find Ricky Mercado sitting across the table from Elise. What the hell was it with the members of the Mercado crime family and their attraction to her? Every time Cole turned around, one of them was trying to hit on her.

“It doesn't appear that he left a mark, Elise,” Mercado said as Cole walked up to the table. The fact that the man had used her first name didn't sit well at all, or that he was touching her arm.

“He'd better not have bruised her.” Cole placed the containers on the table and sat down beside her to examine her skin. “If he did, I'll leave a few marks on him that time won't fade.”

“I'm fine,” Elise said, her voice sounding a bit shaky. “He just startled me with his insistence, that's all.” Glancing at Mercado, she asked, “Is he like that with everyone?”

Mercado shrugged. “John Valente doesn't like the word
no
from anyone. But especially not from a woman.”

“He'd damn well better learn to like it,” Cole said, caressing Elise's satiny skin. The thought of anyone leaving a mark on her caused his gut to twist painfully.

“You sound like you know something about Valente that we don't,” Elise said.

When Mercado remained silent for several long seconds as if trying to decide how much to tell them, Cole watched the man closely. “It's personal,” he finally said, rising to his feet. “Let's just say I've never agreed with Valente's treatment of women and
leave it at that.” He gave Elise a grin that had Cole grinding his teeth. “But that's something women never have to worry about with me. I know how to treat a lady right.”

With that, Mercado walked across the patio and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Cole so angry that he could taste it.

 

As he strolled into the Men's Grill to order a beer, Ricky noticed John Valente sitting with a couple of men at a table in one corner of the bar. The fact that John had gotten rough with Agent Campbell didn't surprise Ricky in the least. Valente wasn't known for his tact, or his diplomacy with anyone. But his lack of respect for women was one thing that Ricky had witnessed before, and didn't like one damn bit.

Watching John, Ricky noticed that the two men seated at the table with him were Benito Pascal, the manager of Mercado Trucking, and Mannie Ferrar, the head of Superior Produce. All three of the men were deep in conversation and it was clear that business was being discussed. But instead of looking as if they were displeased, Benito and Mannie both looked quite happy. Which was odd. Ricky knew for a fact that the two older men disliked the new head of the Mercado family immensely.

Part of the problem was that John had never made it a secret about wanting the two old associates to retire. Neither company had ever brought in the kind of big bucks that John Valente was interested in. Carmine hadn't cared how his two old friends had managed the businesses, as long as he got his cut. And Ricky sometimes wondered if Benito and Mannie
hung on just to aggravate John, now that he was the head of the family.

So why was Valente so chummy with the two old men now? What did he have going on that he needed to discuss business on a weekend that all of Mission Creek considered a town holiday?

Ricky wasn't sure, but he intended to ask a few questions and find out. It just might be the lead he was looking for that would clear his name with the feds.

E
lise moved her food around her plate with a plastic fork in a halfhearted effort to eat the barbecue. She wasn't sure if her lack of appetite was due to her run-in with John Valente, her not having the presence of mind to take defensive action against the man, or because Cole had once again intervened on her behalf.

“I hope you're not worried about Valente,” Cole said, taking a swig of his beer. “I don't think he'll be bothering you again.”

Apprehension filled her when she glanced up to see a smug look on Cole's handsome face. “Why?”

“Valente and I came to an agreement,” he said, sounding quite sure.

Her cheeks heated and anger began to replace her uneasy feeling. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What did you say to him?”

Cole shrugged as he gazed off in the distance. “I told him to leave you alone or he'd have me to deal with.”

“I can't believe you did that.” She shook her head and fought the urge to punch him. “I could have handled the situation on my own. But no, you had to go caveman and rescue the damsel in distress.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Elise?” He sounded confused. “I just did what any normal, red-blooded guy would do when some jerk doesn't have the manners of a jackass and starts bothering a woman.”

Elise counted to twenty before she trusted herself to explain what was obviously beyond Caveman Cole's comprehension. “Your actions sent John Valente a message all right. It let him know just how incompetent you think I am as a federal agent.” He looked thunderstruck. “How do you figure that?”

“Because instead of giving me the opportunity to assert my authority as a federal agent, you barrel your way into the situation and tell him to leave me alone, like I'm some kind of helpless female.” She rose from her chair. “I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, and from now on I'd appreciate it if you'd remember that, Caveman.”

She was so angry, she was close to tears as she hurried into the clubhouse to retrieve her gym bag. She fully intended to go back to the inn to finish auditing the records she'd confiscated, find the connection she was sure existed between Mercado Trucking, Superior Produce and the gun-smuggling ring and prove to Cole Yardley just how proficient she was at her job.

But when she walked out of the ladies' locker room, Cole was waiting for her. “Elise, we have to talk.”

“No, we don't.”

“Dammit, I said we do,” he insisted, taking her by the hand.

She allowed him to lead her out onto the huge veranda at the front of the clubhouse. The last thing she wanted to do was to create a scene that would have the good people of Mission Creek talking about the feud between the federal agents investigating the gun smuggling in their fair town.

As soon as they reached the door, she extricated her hand from his. “I've made it perfectly clear how I feel about your intervention, Caveman. I don't know why you think we need to discuss this further.”

He took the gym bag from her tight grip, set it at their feet, then before she could stop him, took her into his arms. “I want you to hear my side of this.”

“But—”

Placing his index finger to her lips, he shook his head. “For once in your life, will you stop arguing with me and listen?”

The feel of his arms around her, the sincere look in his hazel eyes, had her slowly nodding. “I'll give you five minutes, Yardley.”

“Fair enough.” He looked heavenward for a moment before once again meeting her gaze.

“Well?” she prompted when he hesitated.

“You want to shoot me a break here, Campbell? This isn't easy for me to admit.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “My stepping in to stop Valente from manhandling you had nothing to do with your
competency as a federal agent, or with the case we're working on.”

“Then what was the purpose?”

His mouth compressed into a flat line and she could tell he wasn't happy. “I don't want another man touching you.”

Her breath caught. It had been the very last thing she'd expected him to say. “Would you…like to clarify what you mean by that?”

“I don't know that I understand it myself,” he admitted. “I've never had this problem before.” He released her to step away as he rubbed the back of his neck with an agitated hand. “And I'm not real sure that I like it. But the thought of another man putting his hands on you turns me wrong-side out.”

“But you don't even like me.”

“I never said that.” He laughed, but the sound held little humor. “The problem is, I'm beginning to like you too much.” Cole knew he was making a fool of himself, but he couldn't seem to stop, or to get his thoughts organized enough to make sense of what he was trying to tell her. “All I know is that when I saw Valente take hold of your arm, I wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands.”

“I…don't know what to say.” Elise looked as bewildered as he felt.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.” He met her green gaze and a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. “I'm sorry you thought I was undermining your authority, but that wasn't the case.” He clamped his mouth shut and shrugged to keep from making an even bigger fool of himself. “I just wanted you to
know that what I did wasn't out of any disrespect for your skills as an FBI agent.”

“Thank you,” she said, sounding uncertain. “I appreciate your candidness.” She stared at him for several long seconds before reaching down to pick up her pink and black gym bag. “I really need to…get back to work now.”

He nodded, not sure whether to grab her and kiss her, or turn around and run as far and fast as his legs would carry him. Instead, he stood rooted to the spot. “Just be careful from now on, Campbell.”

Nodding, she turned and started down the steps.

Cole watched her walk to the parking lot to make sure she got in the car and drove away without being accosted by Valente again. Then, shaking his head, he slowly walked back into the clubhouse.

“Damn, Yardley! You look like you just lost your best friend.”

“Can it, Mercado. I'm not in the mood.”

The man rocked back on his heels, looking thoughtful. “Did you and the pretty lady have a lovers' spat?” he asked.

“Agent Campbell and I are co-workers,” Cole said tightly. He wasn't about to tell anyone otherwise.

“Then you won't mind my asking her to watch the fireworks with me this evening?” Mercado paused, then grinning, added, “After dark.”

“Leave Elise alone,” Cole growled before he could stop himself.

“Oh, so it's Elise, is it?” Mercado laughed. “You're mighty territorial about Special Agent Campbell. Are you sure she's not your lady?”

“Mind your own business, Mercado,” Cole
growled as he marched toward the entrance to the Men's Grill.

“You didn't answer my question, Yardley,” Mercado called after him.

Turning to face the man, Cole shook his head. “If you so much as give her the time of day, I'll have you jailed faster than you can slap your own ass with both hands.”

Mercado threw back his head and laughed like a damn hyena, infuriating Cole further.

Without another word, he spun around and walked straight into the bar. What he needed was some peace and quiet, a six-pack of beer and some time to think. It was that, or he'd have to end up going to see the ATF's shrink as soon as he returned to Vegas to find out what the hell had gotten into him.

 

Elise sat in the middle of a patchwork quilt beneath the clear south Texas sky watching the twilight of evening slip into the dark of night. Everyone from Mission Creek was gathering on the country club's lawn for the fireworks display that the Lone Star put on every night during the summer festival.

After her run-in with John Valente and Cole's disturbing admission, she'd gone back to the inn and spent the rest of the afternoon, and most of the evening, thinking about what had happened earlier in the day. Cole was probably right about her not knowing how to deal with a man like John Valente. Most of her time was spent in an office behind a mountain of paperwork. She was only sent out in the field occasionally. Even though she'd had the training every other FBI operative had gone through, she simply
didn't have the field experience to hone her skills and instincts.

But that wasn't what had prevented her from continuing to pore over the accounts of the former Mercado family heads and the records of the trucking and produce companies. It was Cole's admission that had kept her from being able to concentrate on finding the paper trail she was sure existed, linking the Mercados and their holdings to the gun smuggling.

On one hand, it was nice to know he was having as many unprofessional thoughts about her as she was having about him. But on the other hand, it went against every belief she had about co-workers never becoming romantically involved with each other.

Although, technically, she wasn't really working with Cole. He was an ATF agent, not FBI. He worked out of Las Vegas and she was assigned to a field office in Virginia. They weren't collaborating on the Mercado case. He'd said he worked alone—that he wasn't in the habit of sharing information. And so far, he'd been true to his word. He hadn't shared so much as a hint of a lead with her.

But that was just splitting hairs. They had both been assigned to the same case, even if their investigations were separate. And the fact that they had worked on cases in the past, and might do so again in the future, was a big factor to consider.

Unfortunately, the biggest, most important, reason that she couldn't let herself become romantically involved with Cole had nothing whatsoever to do with her golden rule and everything to do with guarding her heart. She had a feeling that if she didn't watch her step, she could fall head over heels for the man.

“Mind if I join you?”

At the sound of Cole's voice, she glanced up. Why all of a sudden did her heart pound as if she'd run a marathon? And why did just the sound of his sexy baritone send a wave of longing straight through her?

Staring up at him, Elise bit her lower lip to stifle her startled gasp. With crystal clarity, she knew exactly why her heart thudded in her chest like a jungle drum, and why every nerve in her body had come to full alert. She'd already fallen for Caveman Cole.

“Elise, are you all right?” he asked, squatting down beside her.

She might have been if he hadn't done the one thing that caused her to melt on the inside and stopped her from fighting the inevitable. He gently cupped her cheek with his hand.

Unable to speak, she finally managed to nod, hoping with all her heart that the storm of emotion and confusion clamoring inside her wasn't detectable in her expression.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Y-yes, I'm fine.”

“Do you mind if I watch the fireworks with you?” he asked again, his voice surrounding her like a velvet caress.

She should rise to her feet, fold up the borrowed quilt and run. Instead, she nodded. “Cole, we need to discuss what you—”

“Not now,” he said, sitting down behind her. He startled her when he planted his feet, one on each side of her, then pulled her back between his bent knees to nestle her against his chest.

Her skin tingled and her insides heated at the feel
of his strong arms wrapping her to hold her close. She looked at the other people sitting on the lawn. She didn't see John Valente, but it was dark now and that didn't mean he wasn't sitting close to her and Cole. “Are we putting on a show for Valente?”

“Nope,” he whispered close to her ear. His warm breath sent goose bumps shimmering over her skin. “As far as I'm concerned, we're off duty tonight. It's not Agent Yardley and Special Agent Campbell. We're just Cole and Elise—two people enjoying each other's company.”

“This is insane. We shouldn't be—”

“Hush,” he said, kissing her temple. “We'll talk later. The fireworks are about to start.”

A loud boom followed by a brilliant burst of twinkling sparks suddenly lit up the night sky above, signaling that the pyrotechnics show had indeed begun. A hush fell over the crowd as a continuous stream of colorful starbursts flashed overhead. Only the occasional voice of an excited child interrupted the otherwise intimate atmosphere surrounding them.

Even though the display was quite impressive, Elise barely noticed. She was too preoccupied with thoughts about what Cole was doing and the way he was making her feel. His warm strength surrounded her like a protective cloak and she suddenly didn't want to think about the Mercado crime family, the gun-smuggling ring, or the fact that she was walking all over her golden rule of not becoming involved with someone she worked with.

As a flash of blue and yellow fire streaked upward, then burst into a brilliant array of light, Cole pulled her more fully to him and slipped his hands beneath
the tail of her white peasant blouse. Her breath caught. But when he caressed her abdomen, then cupped her breasts, she quit breathing completely.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from drawing attention to them.

“Shh, sweetheart. You'll miss the show.”

“If anyone cared to look, they'd probably say
we're
putting on a show.”

His deep chuckle vibrated straight through her. “Nobody's watching us.” He nuzzled the hollow behind her ear. “And to tell you the truth, I don't give a damn if they are.”

He unhooked the front clasp of her bra, and at the first touch of his warm palms holding her, her pulse leaped into overdrive. But when he chafed his thumbs over her tightened nipples, her heart skipped several beats and a coil of need began to form deep in the pit of her belly.

Closing her eyes, her head fell back against his shoulder and, heaven help her, she couldn't have stopped a tiny moan from escaping if her life depended on it.