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Authors: Diana Duncan

BULLETPROOF BRIDE (11 page)

BOOK: BULLETPROOF BRIDE
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"Point taken." She massaged her forehead, where a steady ache pulsed. "Do you know anything about banking, Mr. Bond? Or do I have to instruct you from the basics up?"

He swept off the thick glasses. His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Teach me anything you like, sweetheart. I'm a willing pupil, and a very quick study."

In spite of her annoyance, her skin tingled. "Stop the innuendoes!" she snapped. "This will be impossible if you don't behave. You'll get me fired!"

"Speaking of which,
Trask
said your vault teller quit." One dark brow arched. "Interesting timing."

"Carla?" she gasped. "Involved with murderers? Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Anything suspicious about her?"

She nibbled at her lower lip with her teeth. "She tried to talk me out of counting the vault shipment the day you showed up, but I thought she was upset because we were so busy and she hated running a window."

He rubbed his jaw. "Train me as your new vault teller. The more access I have, the better."

She groaned. "Just what I need. I thought you'd keep an eye on me from a distance, like in the movies."

"We're joined at the hip, twenty-four-seven. So if you want to get rid of me, stay alert and help me nail
these scum
." He shot her a dark look before sliding the glasses back on. "This isn't the movies. One mistake can get you killed."

Her hand tightened on the mug, and she gulped.

Gabe gently extricated the cup from her death grip. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He squeezed her hand. "Now, where do we start? You're the boss."

"That'll be the day," she muttered, yanking her hand from his. "Follow me. I'll introduce you to the other staff and get you set up with a training manual and a window."

Two hours later, Tessa bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She scrubbed damp palms over a wrinkle in her brown tweed suit, desperately wishing she could as easily soothe her frayed composure. Gabe's constant presence, their bodies brushing, hands touching, his smooth, deep voice low and intimate in her ear, had set every nerve thrumming. Worse, she didn't know why she felt so unbalanced. He'd stayed in nerd mode and behaved impeccably all morning.

When the money delivery arrived, she picked up the bags and handed half to him. "Let's take these into the vault."

The gate slammed shut behind them. Great. Enforced confinement with a man who drove her insane. She backed as far away as the small space allowed, but his enticing scent and warm, muscled body tempted her as badly as a banquet would tempt a beggar.

"What's the usual routine?" he asked.

Her senses swirling, Tessa unlocked the inner vault. She set the cash next to a shelf holding the money counter and a tray of office supplies. "When you enter or leave, log your initials and time." She grabbed a pen from the tray and wrote on a clipboard hanging next to the shelf. "A guard delivers from the main basement vault around eleven." She tucked the pen in her pocket. "I usually verify immediately, but it depends on how busy we are."

She cut the seal on the first bag, withdrawing a bundle of fifties. "Run them through the counter,
rebundle
,
then
the money goes into a locked bin. The vault teller also fills the ATMs." She stacked the bills in the machine and pressed the button. "We have two. One at the drive-through and one in the lobby."

Gabe removed his Buddy Holly glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Why are you so patient with her?"

Tessa jerked her gaze to his. "I beg your pardon?"

"The pit bull in pearls. Lucille tried to torpedo all your ideas last night." He folded the glasses beside the tray. "I'd tell her to take a flying leap."

She busily repackaged the money. "She's going to be family. One can stand up for oneself without resorting to rudeness."

"Your fiancé is a man of few words."

"Unlike some people, he's quiet, but he's a wonderful person. He's compassionate, intelligent and treats me with respect. His father died three years ago, and he takes care of his mother. He's also a very talented musician. Evenings and weekends, he gives free violin lessons to underprivileged kids."

"A paragon of virtue."

"Don't make fun of him!"

He held up his hands. "Hey, I wasn't. He seems like a decent guy. I wonder, though—" Gabe studied her face. "When he kisses you, does your heart race?" He stepped closer and she edged away. "Your
skin tingle
? Your body quiver?" He took another step and she again edged away. "Like it did when I kissed you?"

Her back hit the wall. All those things were happening to her right now. Horrified by her uncontrollable reaction to him, she went rigid.

"Do you want to crawl inside him and live there?" he murmured, planting both palms on the wall on either side of her head. He lowered his face a whisper from hers.

How could she stand here and discuss her fiancé's attributes, all the while yearning to kiss another man? She was disgusting. "Congratulations, a new record. You managed to behave for two whole hours." She forced in a shuddering breath. "You promised I could trust you."

Gabe froze. "You're right. You can. I won't kiss you again." One corner of his mouth quirked in a lopsided smile as he stepped back. "Until you ask."

Gripping her hands together to hide their shaking, she turned away. "The Dow Jones will hit five million first."

His husky laugh embraced her.
"Never say never, Houdini."
He cut open the last canvas bag to hand her another pile of bills.

"I assume
Trask
has the vault log and a master list of teller endorsement numbers. When his secretary takes her lunch break, we can search his office."

She whirled. "If we're caught, I'll get fired, arrested, or both!"

"You forget who you're dealing with. In this situation, I am the law. Besides, everything will be legal."

"Talk about the fox guarding the henhouse."

Gabe's lips turned up in that heart-stopping grin. "There you go. Take that sassy mouth and turn it on Lucille."

"I'll work things out with her my own way." She snatched the pen from her jacket and logged them out, then shoved the pen back in her pocket. "We can't search
Trask's
office. I always take new staff to lunch their first day. My policy is well-known and any break in routine will raise questions.
Trask
is out more than
he's
in, so we'll have plenty of opportunity." She glanced at her watch. "
It's
, we might as well eat."

"Okay. We'll discuss tactics and you can tell me about the other employees." With a flourish, he swooped up his glasses. "After you, boss."

Tessa turned on her pager as she led Gabe toward the bank of elevators. "The cafeteria is in the basement, but I have lunch in the courtyard when the weather is nice."

After choosing their meals, they strolled out to the courtyard in the center of the six-story building. Relishing the ripe-apple scent of late autumn, Tessa led Gabe to her usual table in the corner, sheltered by maple trees. She brushed crisp orange and red leaves off the glass tabletop before depositing her salad. "I can't believe nobody else is taking advantage of this beautiful day."

His movements smooth and economical, Gabe slid into the seat across from her. "Getting outside feels great, doesn't it?" He removed his glasses and set them on the table. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and turned his face upward. Gilded bronze by the warm sun, his tanned features radiated peace and strength.

Her heart leapt,
then
flipped over. Heavens, he was gorgeous in spite of the ridiculous disguise. Desire saturated her limbs, quickly followed by the odd, disconcerting feeling that her fate was irrevocably sealed. Just like when she'd tried to get away from him in the car, the warehouse, then the cabin, there was no escape. She gulped iced tea, the cold burn helping rein in her panic. "You said you wanted information about our coworkers?" she choked out. "What do you need?"

His eyelids floated up, and his smoky, sensual gaze caressed her face. "Do you really want to know what I need, Tessie?" he asked, his low voice sliding over her like warm silk.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"Hello, Tessa."

She jerked her startled gaze to the sandy-haired man striding across the courtyard. "Hello, Peter," she managed to say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gabe thrust his glasses back on.

Peter stopped at their table. His pale, haggard face looked as if he hadn't been sleeping well. "I thought I'd find you here. Enjoying your lunch?"

"Yes. Would you like to join us?"

"For a minute." He took a seat beside her.

She gestured. "This is Gabe Bond, our newest teller. Gabe, Mr. Peter Richards, senior vice president."

"Hi," Gabe twanged out in his nasal nerd voice.

"Welcome, Mr. Bond. Did you come to us from another bank?"

Gabe shook his head. "No, I worked at
Moore
's pre-owned car emporium. You know,
Come to
Moore
's, where
Moore
means less?"
He snorted out a high-pitched laugh.

Peter's lips twitched into a pained half smile. "Miss Beaumont is the best, you're lucky to be working under her."

Gabe tossed her a surreptitious wink. He grinned, displaying his buckteeth. "I'm going to enjoy working under Miss Beaumont very much."

Tessa congratulated herself on her restraint for not kicking the living daylights out of him under the table.

Peter's brows dipped. "Ah, yes…" He cleared his throat as he turned to Tessa. "You've recovered from your ordeal? I was sorry to hear what you went through. When they catch this criminal, he deserves to be strung up by the,
er
, hanged."

"I'm fine, thank you, and I heartily agree."

Gabe choked out something between a laugh and a cough.

"Will I see you and Dale at the banquet this weekend?"

"We'll be there."

He rose. "Good. I hope to see you also, Mr. Bond. The banquet is an opportunity to get to know your co-workers better."

"I'll have to consult my social calendar," Gabe whined.

With a friendly wave, Peter departed.

"Very chummy with the VP," Gabe commented in his normal voice as he scooped up his thick turkey sandwich.

She'd met Peter shortly after joining Oregon Pacific. He'd taken an interest in her, becoming a mentor as she moved through the ranks. Before she'd started seeing Dale, he'd asked her out, many times. She'd always refused to mix work and dating. Peter had accepted her decision and they remained friends, often lunching or catching a movie. "Peter makes a point to know all his employees. His brother Neil is the other VP and their father, Donald, is the company president."

"Nothing like a little nepotism to get ahead in life."

"He looked stressed. I hope nothing is wrong. Neil and Donald don't get along since Donald remarried, and Neil's daughter has health problems. They seem like a nice family."

"Appearances aren't always what they seem. Speaking of, the report came in on
Gregson
. Real identity, Greg Fielding, a minor player with a rap sheet a mile long. Definitely not FBI. So we still don't know the police connection." He took a drink of his Coke. "Tell me about this shindig."

"The annual
employees
banquet. A dinner dance held at the Chantal Ballroom as a morale booster every October."

"A chance to rattle some cages and see what shakes loose." He laughed. "Sounds like a load of fun."

She shook her head. "Don't you take anything seriously?"

"Life's too short, Houdini. That serious stuff will give you ulcers, gray hair and wrinkles."

"And a family, stability and security."

"No such thing." A shadow of raw pain etched Gabe's face. "The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be. Look out for number one. That's the only way you'll make it in this world."

Her heart fisted, sharing his pain. She fought the urge to clasp his hand and offer comfort. "That sounds like a lonely way to live."

"It does the job." He smiled, but his eyes had lost their usual shine. "Let's finish up. I'm anxious to get back under you again."

Annoyed by his continual baiting, but more annoyed with
herself
for caring about him so much, she stabbed a tomato slice with unnecessary force. He wanted under her? Fine, she'd put him under her.

They returned to the office in silence. As Tessa entered the lobby, Darcy Griffin, one of her tellers, called out, "A man is holding for you on line two."

She hurried to her desk. "Tessa Beaumont speaking."

A click echoed in her ear. The line went dead. Frowning, she held out the receiver and stared at it.

"Problem?" Gabe spoke up behind her.

"A customer probably got tired of waiting. I'm sure they'll call back." She gave him a saccharine smile. "Since you're so anxious to work under me, I'll get you started immediately."

BOOK: BULLETPROOF BRIDE
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