In Bed with the Enemy (8 page)

His child.

Those two words should have him nervous enough to jump out of his own skin. But all things considered, he was pretty damn calm about the possibility of Elise being pregnant.

Glancing down at her head pillowed on his shoul
der, he wondered how she would feel about having his baby? Would she embrace motherhood?

When she stirred in her sleep and murmured his name, his chest filled with a warmth that he couldn't explain and didn't dare try to analyze. Time would give him the answers to his questions and end his speculation. All he had to do was wait.

Yawning, he smiled as he drifted on the edge of sleep. In the meantime, he'd wrap up his investigation and arrest whoever was responsible for smuggling guns into Mezcaya.

And every night for as long as they were together in Mission Creek, he'd concentrate on making love to the most desirable woman he'd ever met.

 

Elise sat up straight and studied the column of figures on the Mercado Trucking Company's computer printout. They were hauling freight all the way to Mezcaya for the Superior Produce Company. That in itself wasn't unusual. Mercado Trucking was the largest freight hauler outside of Corpus Christi, and Superior was the only produce company in the tricounty area.

On the surface, everything looked to be in order. But what had every one of her auditing instincts on full alert was the amount of money Superior Produce had been writing off as spoilage. Why would a company continue to export their product when three-quarters of it went bad before it even arrived?

None of it made sense, unless—

Elise smiled. “I think I've found my lead.”

“What was that?” Cole called through the open door between their two rooms.

Confident that she'd found the break she'd been looking for, she wrote down the figures displayed on her calculator screen, then switched it off. She'd been working all day and most of the evening. She needed a break.

Walking into Cole's room, she shook her head. “I was talking to myself.”

Sitting on the bed with his back propped up against the headboard, he patted the mattress beside his outstretched legs. “I thought you might have discovered the link between the guns and the Mercados.”

“Like I'd tell you,” she said, laughing.

By unspoken agreement, they'd kept their personal relationship separate from their work. They still weren't sharing information, and she doubted that they would. The focus of her investigation was on the paper trail, while Cole was involved with collecting physical evidence.

When she sat down beside him, he reached out to take her hand in his. “What do you say we order something from room service and spend the rest of the evening right here?”

“You don't want to go out to the country club for tonight's summer festival?” she asked, her insides heating from the look in his sexy gaze.

He shook his head as he pulled her onto his lap. “I spent the entire day at the Lone Star, dogging Mercado from the golf course, to the billiards room, then to a poker game in the Men's Grill. I've had enough of that place for a while.”

“Did you discover anything?” she asked, knowing he wouldn't tell her if he did.

“Yep,” he said, surprising her.

“What did you find out?”

“I found out how much I missed you.” He kissed her forehead. “I kept thinking about last night and the promise I made to you.”

“Promise?” Was he going to tell her that he'd changed his mind? That if she did become pregnant she'd be on her own?

“Don't you remember?” he asked, smiling. “I told you that the next time we made love would be even better.” He slipped his hand beneath the bottom of her T-shirt. “I didn't get to show you.”

His warm palm caressing her abdomen sent a flash of tingling heat to every nerve in her body. “You don't want to watch the fireworks? Tonight's the last—”

He shook his head. “I'd much rather stay here and create fireworks with you.”

When Cole's mouth came down on hers, Elise forgot all about the country club's festivities as his firm lips nibbled and coaxed, caressed and teased her with a mastery that stole her breath. But when his tongue parted her lips to deepen the kiss, it felt as if a few pyrotechnics had indeed been set off in her soul.

Flickers of light danced behind her closed eyes and heat flowed through her veins like warm honey as he stroked the inner recesses of her mouth, played a game of advance and retreat with his tongue. The feel of his palm taking the weight of her bare breast, his thumb brushing her hardened nipple, ignited a spark of desire inside her that quickly turned into a flame of deep need.

Cole broke the kiss to whisk Elise's shirt off, then lowered his head to take the beaded tip of her breast
into his mouth. Her sweet taste, the feel of the nub tightening as he drew on it deeply, sent his blood pressure skyrocketing.

He lowered her to the mattress, savoring the way she held his head to her, how she sighed softly when he moved to pay homage to the other soft mound. Bringing her pleasure was as arousing as any aphrodisiac and it came as no surprise that he was harder than he'd ever been in his life.

When she tugged at his T-shirt, he raised his head. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, but don't you think you're a bit overdressed?” she asked, sounding delightfully breathless.

He chuckled. “You might be right.” Rising from the bed, he quickly dispensed with his shirt, jeans and briefs, then lay back down beside her. “Now who's the one overdressed?”

“I suppose that would be me.” The smile she gave him caused a fire to ignite in his belly. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Give me a minute and I'll show you,” he said, working the button free at the top of her cutoff jeans.

Slowly sliding the zipper down, he held her gaze with his as he pulled her shorts and panties down her slender hips and long legs, then tossed the garments aside. Leaning over, he pressed his mouth to her flat stomach. “Your skin is like fine satin, sweetheart. So smooth, so soft.”

He felt a tremor course through her when he kissed his way down one leg. But when he pressed his lips to the inner part of her thigh, she gasped. “You…shouldn't.”

“Why not?” he asked, continuing his exploration.

“No one's ever—”

“Do you trust me, Elise?”

To his satisfaction she didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then let me love you all over, sweetheart.” Finding her, he took pleasure in her soft moans as he gave her what no man had given to her before.

“P-please, Cole.” She moved restlessly against him. “I can't stand…much more.”

When he raised his head, he didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight than the blush of passion on her porcelain cheeks, the hunger in her expressive green eyes. “Tell me what you need, Elise.”

“Y-you. Now!”

Her desire fueled his own and he was suddenly consumed with the need to once again make her his. Opening the drawer of the nightstand, he removed a foil packet he'd placed there earlier and took care of their protection.

Turning back, his breath lodged in his lungs at the sight of her supple body waiting to take him in and make him feel as if he'd found the other half of himself. The sudden hunger to possess her once again was overwhelming.

Cole closed his eyes for a moment in a desperate attempt to regain his rapidly slipping control. He was going to make this the most memorable night of her life, if it killed him. And he wasn't sure that it wouldn't.

His pulse pounded in his ears as he moved over her, and gathering her in his arms, joined their bodies in one smooth stroke. He held himself completely still as he tried to resist the urge to complete the act of
loving her. He wanted to make this last, to love her slowly and thoroughly.

But when she wrapped her long legs around his hips to draw him in and hold him to her, Cole's restraint snapped and his mind clouded with a red haze of need. Rocking against her, he reveled in the way she met him stroke for stroke, their bodies perfectly in tune. But when he felt her tighten around him, he knew she was close to the culmination they both sought. Quickening his pace, a deep satisfaction flowed through him at her cry of pleasure as she found the ecstasy of her release.

Her feminine muscles clinging to him, urging him to find his own climax, drove Cole over the edge, and he felt as if they became one mind, one body, one soul as he emptied his life force deep inside of her.

T
he next afternoon, Cole drove out to the western edge of Mission Creek where several abandoned warehouses were located. He'd been meaning to check them out for the past couple of days, but he'd been too busy interviewing all of the Lone Star Country Club's employees with access to the storage building where the guns had been found.

But he had a hunch those weapons had been planted at the country club in an effort to divert attention from the hub of the actual smuggling operation. Now all he had to do was find evidence to support his theory.

He parked the SUV in front of a group of four warehouses that looked as if they hadn't been used in years. Getting out of the truck, he walked from one to another. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Scrub
brush grew in front of the doors, and most of the windows had been broken out of the first two buildings. But when he rounded the corner of the second dilapidated structure, he stopped short. The glint of sunlight bouncing off the big double doors caught his attention and his investigative instincts came to full alert. The corrugated metal was covered in rust, but something shiny appeared to be wrapped around the door handles.

As he walked the distance between the two buildings, several things seemed to jump out at him. The first was the tire tracks scoring the hard-packed dirt leading up to the doors, indicating that the vehicle making them had been heavy. He knelt down, and examining the double tread marks, Cole determined they had most likely been made by a semi with a loaded trailer.

Straightening, he continued on to check out the doors of the warehouse. A thick chain was threaded through the pulls on the door and had been secured with a heavy padlock. Both were new. When the toe of his boot touched some of the scrub brush in front of the doors, he noticed that it and several others had been placed to look as if they were growing there.

He walked around the outside of the building, finding several fresh cigarette butts along the perimeter. He smiled as he pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket, and careful not to touch it, scooped one of the butts into it. He'd send it to the lab for testing to see if they already had a DNA profile on whoever had smoked the cigarette.

He had a feeling he just got the first break in the
case. He'd stake his reputation on this being the actual hub of the gun-smuggling operation.

After he'd made a trip back to the SUV for a digital camera, he took several shots of the tire tracks, the padlocked door and the outside of the building. Now all he had to do was find out who owned the warehouses and get a warrant to search the property.

But as he drove back into town, his discovery left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. On one hand, he felt sure he was on the verge of cracking the case. But on the other, it would mean his time with Elise was close to ending.

His gut clenched at the thought of not having her in his arms each night, or waking up to see her pretty face first thing each morning. He took a deep breath. How had she gotten under his skin so fast? Had it really started a week ago when he saw John Valente take hold of her arm in front of the country club? Or had it started long before that?

When they'd worked on the same case two years ago, he'd thought Elise was a looker with a killer smile and the best legs he'd ever seen. But they hadn't been able to stay in the same room for more than ten minutes without getting into a verbal battle of one-upmanship.

He smiled. But as much as he'd groused about her sharp tongue, he'd enjoyed those encounters. Elise was quick-witted, intelligent and a damn fine federal agent. In fact, her auditing skills had been instrumental in cracking that case in El Paso.

His easy expression disappeared. As far as he was concerned, her job was a blessing and a curse all rolled into one. It had been the reason for their meet
ing, and what had brought them together again on the Lone Star case. But it was also what bothered him the most about her. The thought that she might, at some time, have to draw her gun or use her physical-defense skills to fend off some goon like Valente just about turned Cole's stomach. What would happen if he wasn't around to intervene?

Turning into the courthouse parking lot, he killed the engine and sat for several long minutes, contemplating what he needed to do. His only option to keep Elise safe was to crack this case, take the gun smugglers into custody, and hopefully put the Mercado crime family out of business in the process, while she was still holed up at the inn crunching numbers.

He started to get out of the SUV, then glanced at his watch. Damn! By the time he walked up to the courthouse entrance it would be closing for the day.

Settling himself back behind the steering wheel, he started the Explorer and backed out of the parking space. He'd have to check with the clerk's office tomorrow to see who held the deed to the warehouse property. Right now, he intended to go back to the inn, take Elise into his arms and make love to her until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

 

Elise glanced at the figures in front of her, then at the calculator screen. There was no doubt in her mind that Mercado Trucking and Superior Produce were somehow involved in the gun smuggling, either by transporting the contraband, or laundering the money from the sales. Or both. Superior had been using Mercado Trucking to ship fruits and vegetables into Mezcaya on a regular basis, but still hadn't shown a profit.
The trucking company bills of lading showed that they were hauling bananas, coffee and sugar. Now, why would Superior be importing things into a country that was a major exporter of those very same items?

But how could she prove the link between the Mercado owned companies and the automatic weapons being smuggled into Mezcaya? She needed to know exactly what was being hauled in those trucks, and the only way she knew to do that was to be there when a shipment arrived to see what was unloaded.

She tapped the ink pen she held on the polished surface of the desk as she checked the dates on the trucking company's books. If they were correct, another shipment should be arriving in Mezcaya this weekend.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone. She'd have to clear the trip with her superiors, but that shouldn't be a problem. Her boss had told her to do whatever it took to uncover the evidence needed to crack the case.

An hour later, she hung up the phone with a satisfied smile. She'd made airline reservations and was set to go. Day after tomorrow she would be leaving for Mezcaya.

Once she entered the tiny Central American country, she would meet an undercover operative at the airport who would act as her guide and interpreter. He would take her to the jungle villages reported to have strong El Jefé connections, where she would pose as a buyer for an export company in search of handmade baskets, pottery and other native crafts.

She wasn't supposed to take any action while she
was in Mezcaya, just keep her eyes and ears open to see if she could find out what those trucks were really hauling. She'd have three days to learn all she could before returning to Mission Creek to hand over everything to the Special Operations Group. They would be the ones in charge of surveilling the suspects' activities, building the case against them, then, when the time was right, moving in to make the arrest.

There were only three things she had left to do. The first two were easy. She'd call the bank and have them release Ricky Mercado's assets, since it was obvious by his accounting records that he wasn't involved in the gun smuggling. Then she'd call him and tell him he was free to go on with his life.

The third, and most important, of her tasks wasn't going to be nearly as easy. How on earth was she going to break the news about her trip to Cole?

She suspected that once he learned she was leaving for Mezcaya day after tomorrow, he'd go caveman on her and try to prevent her from going. Or worse yet, he'd try to go with her. And as much as she loved being held by him, loved by him each night, the last thing she needed was him insisting that he accompany her to Central America.

Elise sighed and leaned back in the desk chair. Besides, she needed time away from him, time to come to grips with the idea that she might very well be carrying his baby.

Rising to her feet, she walked over to where her purse sat on the bureau and reached inside the leather bag for her personal calendar. Her period wasn't due to start until early next week, and it was too soon to purchase one of the early home-pregnancy tests.

But something deep inside told her that a test was just a formality. No matter how unlikely the odds were that she'd become pregnant the night the condom broke, she had a feeling that she had indeed conceived a child.

She placed her hand on her flat stomach. What if she was expecting? How would she tell Cole? What would he do? Would he want to get married?

She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. If they ever took that step, how would she know if he was asking her to be his wife because he loved her, or because he felt an obligation to the baby?

Whether she and Cole got married, or she ended up raising their son or daughter alone, she'd have to adjust her goals. There was no way she'd be able to travel and work cases like the one she was working on now.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” Cole asked, coming to stand beside her. “You look awfully serious.”

Some FBI agent she was, she thought disgustedly. He'd opened the door between their two rooms and walked right up to her without her even realizing it.

Turning to put her arms around his neck, she shook off her pensive mood. She'd have plenty of time on the plane ride down to Mezcaya to analyze everything and decide what she needed to do. Right now, she wanted to forget what the future held for them, and concentrate on the here and now.

“There's nothing wrong, Caveman,” she said, going up on tiptoe to place a kiss on his firm male lips. “I was just thinking about what Mrs. Carter will say if we order room service again tonight, instead of going down for dinner.”

“Probably not a damn thing,” he said, grinning. “More than likely, she's in danger of breaking an arm from patting herself on the back for getting us together.”

Elise wondered if they really were “together.” Not sure she wanted to know the answer, she asked, “So what are we going to order this evening?”

“It doesn't matter,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Mrs. Carter will send two plates of whatever she wants us to have for dinner anyway.”

“That's true. I keep ordering a salad, and she keeps sending me country-fried steak, or fried chicken, or fried pork chops. I don't think Mrs. Carter has read the latest articles on fried foods, cholesterol and weight management.” Elise frowned. “I'll be lucky if I don't gain twenty pounds while I'm here in Mission Creek.”

The look Cole gave her caused her toes to curl into the thick carpet. “You don't have to worry about your weight.” He brushed his lips over hers. “You'd be desirable no matter what you weighed.”

He said that now, but what if she was pregnant? Would he still find her attractive then?

But the thought of how she would look when she was heavy with his child deserted her as he kissed his way to the hollow behind her ear.

“I'm hungry,” he murmured against her skin. Raising his head, he gazed down at her. “But not for food.”

Her breath caught at the longing she saw in his hazel eyes, the feel of his arousal pressing into her lower belly. He brought his hands up beneath the bot
tom of her shirt to splay across her back, then pulled her more fully into his embrace.

Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her with a gentleness that made her weak in the knees and had her clinging to his strong biceps for support. His tongue traced her lips, then coaxed her to open for his entry. The taste of his need, the feel of him stroking the tender recesses sent shivers of desire spiraling through every cell in her body.

As he continued to kiss her, Cole moved his hands upward, taking her shirt with them. “Lift your arms, sweetheart.”

Without giving a thought to protesting, she did as he commanded and he drew the garment over her head. Tossing it aside, he ran his palms over her shoulders, her back, then down her sides to her hips with such reverence that she felt light-headed. It was as if he worshiped her with his touch.

“I love it when you don't bother wearing a bra,” he said, smiling as he skimmed his hands along the sides of her breasts.

“I've always thought of them as instruments of torture,” she said shakily. “Especially the ones with under-wire.”

Reaching up, she traced the ATF initials on the middle of his T-shirt. The muscles beneath the fabric bunched and flexed as she drew her finger over each letter. “I love you in these black shirts.”

“I told you I looked good in them,” he said, mischievously. His breathing sounded labored.

Elise touched the sleeve where the knit stretched over his rock-hard biceps. “This is one time I have
to agree with you, Caveman. You look extremely good in them.”

He reached down to pull the tail of the shirt from his jeans, then up and over his head. He tossed the garment on top of her shirt. “As good as I look in it, there are times when I think I like being out of it a whole lot more.”

When he pulled her to his bare chest, she had to agree. The feel of her breasts crushed to his hard maleness quickly heated her blood and she suddenly felt warm all over. But when he leaned back and lowered his head to take one of the pebbled tips into his mouth, the warmth flowing though her veins turned to liquid fire.

Unable to resist, she placed her hands on his broad chest, testing the strength of his pectoral muscles, lightly running her fingers over his nipples. The tips puckered at her touch and she felt a shudder run through his big body at the same time he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Do you like that?” she asked.

“Sw-sweetheart…” Straightening to his full height, he stopped to clear his throat. “You have no idea.”