In Bed with the Enemy (9 page)

With their lower bodies pressed so closely together, she could feel his hard arousal straining against his fly. “Oh, I think I might have a vague notion, Caveman.”

She ran her index finger down his smooth chest and flat belly to the indentation of his navel, then continued down the thin line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. Jeans that rode low
on his narrow hips and exposed a nice amount of lean flanks.

Tugging at his belt, she worked the leather strap through the buckle, then toyed with the button at the top of his jeans. When she glanced up at him, the look in his heavy-lidded eyes challenged her to continue.

His stomach contracted when her fingers brushed his skin as she worked the button through the hole, then ran her nail down the metal teeth of his zipper, over the insistent bulge, then back up to the tab. Encouraged by his groan of pleasure, Elise eased it down and slowly opened the metal closure holding him captive.

“You're about to give me a heart attack,” he said, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Encouraged by the passion he couldn't hide, she ran her finger along the elastic band of his briefs. “Maybe I should stop.”

“I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“You don't?”

He shook his head. “I'll spontaneously combust, and you wouldn't want that on your conscience. Would you?”

“No, I don't suppose I would.” She pretended to think for a minute. “But I don't want to cause you to have problems with your heart, either.”

He laughed. “This kind of ailment has a pretty simple remedy.”

“Oh, really?” She touched the hard bulge threatening to burst the white cotton fabric. “Do you think I might have the cure?”

“Sweetheart, you're the only cure for what ails me,” he said, nodding. “So don't stop now.”

Her heart stuttered. From the look he was giving her, she believed he was quite serious.

Taking a deep breath, she carefully pushed his jeans and briefs down over his hips, freeing him from the restraining garments. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady himself as she shoved his clothes to his feet. Luckily he'd removed his boots before entering her room. That was probably the reason she hadn't heard him enter, she decided as she threw his clothes on top of their shirts.

She turned back and her breath caught at the sight of him. Cole was magnificent in his masculinity. His shoulders and chest were broad with well-defined muscles, his stomach ridged.

But when her gaze drifted lower, her pulse hammered in her ears. His size, the sheer strength of his need, was almost overwhelming. Feminine power flowed through her as she realized his desire, the depth of his longing, was for her.

“You're truly beautiful,” she said, meeting his questioning gaze.

He shook his head as he stepped forward. Reaching out to run his fingertip along her cheek, he smiled. “Not me. You.”

Her eyelids drifted shut as she leaned into his touch. She'd tried so hard not to, but she'd fallen head over heels in love with Cole Yardley. And if she was completely truthful about it, she'd been in love with him since the first time he kissed her. She'd just been too stubborn to realize it.

When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her
as if she really was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Wanting him to see her as she saw him, she lowered her shorts and panties, then added them to the tangled pile of clothes at their feet.

He held his arms wide and she stepped into his embrace without a moment's hesitation. She wanted to feel all of him against her, feel the contrast of soft feminine skin to firm male flesh. At first contact, a searing current of heat seemed to dance over every nerve in her body.

She wanted him with a fierceness that astounded her, but the need to give to him as she'd never given to any man was more powerful than anything she'd ever felt. Running her hands along his sides, then down his flanks, she took him in her palms to explore his length and the heaviness beneath.

“Sweetheart, if you keep…doing that…I may never walk again.” He spoke haltingly and his breathing was extremely labored.

“I've only just begun,” she said, pressing her lips to his chest, his flat belly and beyond.

“Elise?”

“Shh, darling,” she said a moment before she gave him the ultimate caress a woman can give to a man.

Taking her by the shoulders, he hauled her up to bring his mouth down on hers in a kiss that caused her to melt against him. The world seemed to tilt precariously, then right itself, and she realized he'd lifted her into his arms to cradle her to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“I'm dragging you off to my den again,” he said, his smile leaving her with no doubt what he had planned.

He placed her on the bed, then tore open the foil packet with their protection. Rolling it into place, he stood looking down at her a moment. The undeniable hunger in his eyes was feral.

As he stretched out beside her, he turned her to face him, then lifted her leg over his. He must have detected her confusion. “I want to love you face-to-face.”

Her heart swelled with love at his concession. Neither one of them would take the dominant position, but instead, play an equal role in their lovemaking.

Reaching down, she guided him to her, then in one exquisite move, he made them one. Her body sizzled as he filled her, and she could see by the expression on Cole's face that he was experiencing the same heated energy that she was. She closed her eyes to savor the feeling.

“Elise? Look at me.” His voice sounded rough and she knew it had to be from the strain of holding himself in check.

When she did as he requested, he brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek. “I want to watch your eyes light up as I bring you pleasure, sweetheart. I want to know the exact moment when you can't hold back any longer and I take you over the edge.”

She would have told him that she wanted that, too, but as his gaze held hers, he slowly began to move within her and words were not only beyond her capabilities, they were completely unnecessary. His gaze reflected the same unity of their souls that she was feeling.

Her heart filled with more love than she'd ever dreamed possible as threads of passion coursed
through her to gather in a tight spiral in her lower stomach. His eyes never wavered from hers, and she could tell the same tension was gripping him, compelling him to find the completion they both longed to find.

Even as the sensations inside her grew to a delicious ache, she fought to prolong them, to savor the connection between them that she never wanted to end. But apparently Cole sensed her readiness, and moved his hand down between them to gently stroke her with his fingers. Suddenly the coil was unwinding, spinning her out of control. She heard herself whimper, then moan as waves of pleasure coursed to every cell in her being and she gave herself up to the tempest swirling inside her. As her body shivered from the force of it, she felt Cole's arms tighten around her, felt him stiffen, then bury himself deep within her one final time as he found his own liberation from the storm.

A sweet languor overtook her and she clung to his strong arms as they drifted back to reality. She had acknowledged that she loved Cole with all of her heart and soul, and if the look in his eyes was any indication, he had deep feelings for her, too.

That was the reason there shouldn't be any secrets between them, she reasoned. Two people who really cared for each other didn't hide things from the other.

She tried to stifle a yawn as she snuggled against him. She'd rest a little, then she'd tell him about the trip to Mezcaya. Surely he'd understand.

C
ole smiled down at the woman sleeping so peacefully in his bed. Elise looked so soft, so sweet, it took everything he had to force himself to finish dressing after his shower and walk out the door. She needed her rest, and he needed to get back to chasing down the information to solve the gun-smuggling case.

As he drove to the courthouse, he thought about the night they'd shared. Throughout the evening and well into the early hours of morning, they'd come together time and again to share the most passionate lovemaking he'd ever experienced. They'd been so wrapped up in each other, they'd even forgotten about dinner.

At one point in the evening, Elise had mentioned that she needed to talk to him about something, but he'd kissed her and she'd forgotten all about what she'd wanted to tell him.

He smiled as he parked in the courthouse parking lot and headed into the clerk's office. There would be plenty of time this evening for them to discuss whatever she had on her mind. But right now, he had work to do. He needed to find out who held the deed to the warehouse property at the edge of town, visit the judge and obtain a search warrant, then go over those buildings with a fine-tooth comb.

Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the clerk's office with a satisfied smile. Why wasn't he surprised to learn that Ricky Mercado had bought the old warehouses a few months back? In fact, it had only been a matter of a few weeks after his return from the mission to get Phillip Westin out of Mezcaya.

But as Cole waited for the judge to see him and hear his reasons for wanting a court order to search the property, something bothered him. Why would Mercado buy the old warehouses to store weapons in, knowing full well that the ATF and FBI were all over every move he made?

It didn't make sense. Mercado wasn't a stupid man. He had to know the first thing they'd do would be to search every property he owned, and especially something as big as a warehouse where a cache of illegal guns and ordnance could easily be stored.

No, it was too convenient, too obvious. But Cole would bet everything he had that once he got access to the buildings, he'd find a whole arsenal stored there.

He frowned. That would mean that Mercado had been telling the truth all along about not being involved in the smuggling operation, that someone was setting the man up to take a fall.

But if Ricky Mercado wasn't behind the ring, then who was responsible for selling illegal weapons to El Jefé?

One name came to mind and it had Cole balling his hands into tight fists. John Valente.

Now all Cole had to do was to find the proof he needed to nail the son of a bitch.

 

As he approached the city limits of Mission Creek, Ricky Mercado tapped his palms on the steering wheel in time to the country music coming from his truck's radio speakers. In spite of the crap going on in his life, his trip to Nuevo Laredo just across the Mexican border had gone well. It hadn't taken him nearly as long as he'd thought it would, the handcrafted Mexican tiles for his new kitchen were on order and would be ready for pickup in a few weeks, and there was still enough of the afternoon left to put the new railing on the back porch.

Of course, when Ricky started nailing the wood in place, he'd just end up pissing off the raccoon living under it. But those were the breaks.

That old cuss could hiss and spit all he wanted. He'd just have to get used to the idea of sharing his digs with a human again.

As he neared the warehouses he'd bought a few months back, the sight of a black SUV parked just inside the broken-down gate caused Ricky to slow the truck to a crawl. He'd seen that Explorer one too many times not to recognize it as the one Cole Yardley drove.

Now why in hell would Yardley be poking around those old run-down buildings? There hadn't been any
thing stored in them for years, and in another week or two they wouldn't even be there. They were scheduled for demolition and a new storage complex would be going up in their place.

Unless the feds had discovered something Ricky didn't know about, he couldn't think of one good reason for Yardley to be checking out the property.

Deciding to wait until the ATF agent had cleared out, Ricky drove home. He'd come back later and see what the man found so interesting about buildings that were ready to fall down with the next stiff wind.

 

Cole cursed when the cell phone attached to his belt started chirping. It had to be someone from the Vegas office. They were the only ones who knew the number.

Punching the talk button, he held the phone to his ear. “What?”

“I see you're your usual congenial self,” Drew Monahan's voice crackled in his ear.

“What's up?” Cole asked, glancing around the cavernous warehouse. It was fairly dark, but there appeared to be a stack of wooden crates at the far end. He started toward them.

“We heard something interesting from one of our informants that you need to know about,” Monahan said. The man's voice had taken on a seriousness that had Cole's full attention.

“Which one?” he asked, mentally reviewing which of their sources was the most reliable.

“Angel Sanchez.”

Cole stopped dead in his tracks. Whatever the information was, he knew he could bank on it being
one hundred percent accurate if it came from Angel. “So what did the old boy have to say?”

“There's been a hit ordered on someone getting too close to solving the case in Mission Creek,” Monahan said gravely.

A knot formed in the pit of Cole's belly. The hit had to be on him or Elise. They were closest to the case.

The knot in his gut tightened. He wasn't concerned for himself. He'd dodged the Grim Reaper more than a couple of times in his eight years with the ATF. But Elise was working on the case, and although they hadn't shared the evidence they'd each collected, he knew she had to be getting close to finding the paper trail she was looking for.

“Did Angel say who ordered the hit?”

He heard Monahan's exasperated sigh crackle across the airwaves. “That's the hell of it. We've checked with every one of our contacts from here to New Orleans and all we've been able to learn is that the order came out of Mission Creek. We're still working on it, but it's going to take time.”

Cole turned and started for the double doors leading outside. “Thanks for the heads up, Monahan. I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” the man said. “But that's not important now. Just watch your back, Yardley.”

“Will do,” Cole said, ending the call. He started to call Elise, but the blinking light on the phone indicated the battery was going dead.

His heart pumping double time, he jogged the hundred yards to the SUV. He had to get back to the inn
and tell Elise to stay put. She'd be safer there than out in the field.

As Cole drove across town to the inn, he thought about how much he should tell her. If he told her about the hit and insisted that she stay locked in their rooms at the inn, there was a good possibility that she'd tell him where to go and how to get there. Or worse yet, grab her gun and go out looking for whoever had ordered the hit.

The thought of that happening turned the blood in his veins to ice. No, he couldn't tell her to leave things to him. That would be the worst thing he could do.

But if he didn't warn her, and something happened, he'd never forgive himself.

Deciding it was time to call in reinforcements, Cole pulled into a parking space in front of the sheriff's office. He'd alert Wainwright to the latest development, and together they'd concoct a plan to keep Elise safe and out of the line of fire.

An hour later, Cole walked out of the sheriff's office feeling a little more confident about keeping Elise safe. Wainwright was arranging to send an undercover detective to the inn. A veteran of fifteen years on the Houston rackets squad, Jack Bennett had just recently joined the Mission Creek force and wasn't known by the locals. He'd take the maintenance job Mrs. Carter had been looking to fill, and stay at the inn under the guise of not having found an apartment since moving to town. Cole knew the plan wasn't perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than doing nothing at all.

 

Elise nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to think of a way to tell Cole she'd be leaving for Mezcaya first thing in the morning. No matter how she broke the news, she was positive he wasn't going to like it. He'd told her on more than one occasion that he was glad her job kept her behind a desk and out of trouble.

Shaking her head, she sighed heavily. Just as sure as the sun rose in the east each morning, when he found out about the trip he'd go caveman on her, try to stop her from going, and they'd end up having a huge argument. And as much as she loved him, she wasn't going to shirk an assignment and end up jeopardizing her career with the Bureau just because he had a problem with her doing her job.

But maybe if she planned something special for the evening, she could find the perfect time to tell him and he'd be a little more understanding. She knew it was a long shot, but time was running out and it was the best she could come up with.

Picking up the phone, she talked with Mrs. Carter, and romantic soul that she was, the woman helped Elise plan an evening that she hoped Cole would not only find enjoyable and relaxing, but would also put him in an agreeable mood.

When Cole walked through the door connecting their rooms an hour and a half later, she and Mrs. Carter had everything set up in the gazebo and Elise had changed into a mint-green sundress. “How was your day?” she asked, suddenly unsure of her plan. He looked worried about something. “Is everything all right?”

“Another day, another dollar,” he said, shrugging.
He took her into his arms and kissed her until she felt light-headed. “How was yours, sweetheart?”

“So-so.” She grinned. “But there is something that I'd like you to take a look at in the garden.”

His arms tensed around her. “What is it?”

“It's nothing to worry about,” she said, stepping away from him. She waited for him to remove the holster and gun from his belt the way he always did when he returned to the room for the evening. But he just stood staring at her.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“Aren't you going to take off your gun?”

He glanced down at his service weapon, then shook his head. “Not tonight. I…uh, may have to leave to follow a lead.”

She smiled. “Would you care to share?” she asked, already knowing his answer.

“Nope.”

“Then follow me,” she said, taking him by the hand.

When they stopped at the registration desk on their way through the lobby, a man Elise had never seen was talking with Mrs. Carter.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Carter said, handing Elise the key to the door leading out to the garden. They'd arranged for Elise to lock the door after she and Cole entered the garden, insuring their privacy for the evening. “Oh, by the way, this is Jack Bennett. He's our new maintenance man. I'll have him fix that lock between your and Mr. Yardley's door first thing in the morning.”

When Mrs. Carter finished the introductions, Elise smiled. She wasn't going to tell the woman that even
if the lock was repaired, she and Cole wouldn't be using it. “Nice to meet you, Jack.”

“While you're at it, would you mind checking the security chain on my door?” Cole asked, shaking the man's hand. “It seems a little loose and it wouldn't hurt to check Ms. Campbell's while you're at it.”

“I'll put it on the list,” Jack said, nodding.

“You two have a good time,” Mrs. Carter said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“What did she mean by that?” Cole asked as they walked away.

“You'll see.” Grinning, Elise waited for him to open the door leading out into the courtyard, then locked it behind them.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” He sounded alarmed.

“Relax, Caveman. I'm just making sure we aren't interrupted,” she said.

“I don't think I like the idea of being locked in,” he said, looking around the garden as if he expected to see someone.

She started down the narrow path. “It must have been a pretty trying day for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, following her.

“You're more tense than I've ever seen you.” She turned to give him a quick kiss. “Will you at least try to relax?”

He smiled. “I guess I'll have to, since you asked so nicely.”

The evening sun had gone down behind the inn, casting a shadow over the garden. She smiled as she climbed the steps to the gazebo. The candles Mrs. Carter had suggested would be perfect.

“What's this?” he asked, glancing from the picnic basket, to the candles lining the railing of the structure.

“I'm taking you on a date, Mr. Yardley.”

“But—”

She placed her index finger to his lips. “It's apparent that you've had a hard day and need to unwind.”

As Cole stared down at her, he decided that was the understatement of the year. Only he couldn't afford to let his guard down. One of their lives might very well depend on his staying alert.

“Why don't you sit in the swing and relax, while I light the candles,” she asked, striking a long match and touching it to the top of each wick.

Lowering himself onto the swing, he didn't see any other choice but to go along with what Elise had planned. He'd just have to be especially alert to everything going on around them.

“What gave you the idea to go to all this trouble?” he asked, admiring how gracefully her full skirt moved around her shapely calves.

She smiled over her shoulder at him. “I just thought it would be nice for a change.”

As he watched her blow out the match, then lift the lid on the picnic basket, he felt like the biggest jerk in the state of Texas. He'd kissed her. He'd made love to her. But he hadn't courted her, hadn't done anything to show her how special their time together was for him.