Gunning for the Groom (8 page)

She wasn't sure if the revelation was a good thing or if she'd only be more broken when she and Aidan went their separate ways.

* * *

A
IDAN
STOOD
BACK
as Frankie unlocked their door. He didn't like being tailed any more than he liked the secrets Frankie was keeping. At least whoever was having them followed had yet to order a search of the apartment. He didn't count on the privacy lasting much longer.

There was a rhythm to this kind of work, and he could sense something was about to give. He'd handled delicate cases before, played cat and mouse with some of Europe's worst offenders. This was an entirely different scenario.

As they put away the groceries and tossed around dinner ideas, he hoped they sounded like a normal, contented couple. Her mother believed it, which mattered more than how being this close, this affectionate with Frankie was driving him mad. Although Frankie followed his lead when he made romantic gestures, he was going to have to encourage her to reach for him once in a while. He didn't dwell on the potential minefield of that thought.

He was relieved when she walked out to the balcony to take a call from Sophia. The line between his undercover role and his true feelings was blurring. He liked Frankie's spunk and admired her determination, even if he thought she was off target about her mom.

In Victoria's office, he'd seen a hurt, unhappy and angry woman. In Sophia's house, he'd watched the memories—good and bad—swamp her. Though he'd merely skimmed the surface of the classified morass that was the Leone family history, what he'd found confirmed that she'd been raised in a happy, stable home.

Frankie walked back in, tapping her phone against her palm. “Mom asked about setting a wedding date.”

He smiled despite the chill slithering down his spine. “And?” Just because the gear hadn't picked up any active bugs didn't mean they could relax. If they were going to complete this investigation effectively, he might have to reserve a hotel room under an alternate name just so they could speak freely.

“And do you have a preference?” She slid onto the counter stool, watching him too closely.

Six weeks after never would be fine with him. “I thought girls spent most of their lives daydreaming about the perfect wedding.”

“I'm a
woman
.” Frankie crossed her arms and glared.

“I noticed.” He came around the counter and grabbed her. “Anyone could be listening,” he murmured at her ear, knowing that wasn't the point. Tipping up her chin, he planted a long kiss on her lips. For a moment she was shocked, her body stiff in his arms. Then she relaxed with a soft sigh that electrified his system. Her arms wound around his neck, and her fingers sifted through his hair. He forgot about the case as he slid his tongue between her lips and indulged in her warm, sensual taste. Need slammed through him, too tempting and far too convincing. He broke the kiss and smiled into her dazed eyes. “Name the date and time and you know I'll be there.”

She slipped out of his reach, her face flushed and her lips plump from the kiss. “Mom suggested December. That gives us planning time.”

He knew she was talking about the wedding as well as the case. How would a happy future groom reply? “You want to get married over the holidays?”

“There are lots of nonholiday days in December.”

Was her irritation an act? Aidan glanced around the apartment. Although he was committed to the work, he didn't think anyone at the Colby Agency anticipated this assignment going for half a year. “Why not sooner?” he asked. The time crunch landed like a weight on his chest, making it impossible to get a breath.

“How soon can your family be here?”

His family.
He knew she was teasing by the mischievous expression in her deep brown eyes. His eyes dropped to the ring on her hand. His gut clenched. Turning on his heel, he found a glass, filled it with cold water. Drink it or dump it on his head? He drank, buying time to think. Hashing over her past was part of the case. He wanted to keep his family, his mistakes to himself. Would Sophia respect his privacy or go snooping if he hedged on the family details? He knew the answer without asking.

He leaned back against the sink. “Does my family need to be here? I can call them after it's done. Send them a video of the ceremony. Live stream it.”

“Aidan?”

The concern in Frankie's voice made him want to bolt. From the room and the case. Hell, from the planet. He struggled for control. “Tell her we'll look at the calendar,” he said. “Tell her I'll reach out to my mom tonight.” They both knew he wouldn't.

“Okay.”

He had to trust the agency to field those calls properly, protecting their cover and shielding his parents from any unnecessary distress.

“We keep dancing around it, but if you think they won't like me, we can call this off. I don't want to come between you and your family.”

“That's absurd.” Hell, they'd probably love her under better circumstances. He stalked past her, wishing for something far stronger than the glass of water in his hand. He knew she was trying to stay in character. His problem was that she was suddenly so damned effective. Her eyes were his weakness. The woman needed his help whether she liked it or not, and he knew she didn't mean to hurt him.

“They'll adjust,” he said. “They always do,” he added under his breath, flopping down on the couch.

“To clarify, I'm not the one nagging.” Frankie followed him, easing into the armchair. “If your parents aren't at your wedding, I think you'll regret it.”

He could hardly tell her it wasn't any of her business, not here in a place likely wired for sound. “I'm familiar with the theory,” he said. “We'll get it sorted out,” he added, willing her to drop it.

“You haven't told them you proposed?”

Aidan stared at her, wondering if it was better to have this farcical conversation here, packed with double meanings she might not understand, or just take her out again and confess it all. They were likely under observation; they had to behave. He stayed on the couch, rolling the cool glass between his palms. “I haven't told them anything about you,” he said quietly, testing her reaction. She would know that much was true. Whoever might be listening in would wonder why he'd lied to Sophia.

Frankie nodded. “All things considered, that's understandable.”

A warning bell clanged through his head. “What?” He couldn't believe she'd diverted her relentless focus from her mother long enough to snoop through his past.

“As soon as you tell them you're seeing someone, that you're engaged, they'll pester you with questions. Being under my mom's microscope is enough pressure for us right now.”

“I'm not going to crack.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” Frankie kicked off her shoes and tucked her bare feet up under her skirt. Reaching up, she pulled the clip holding her hair back and the silky dark waves tumbled over her shoulders.

He couldn't stop staring. The feminine, flowy dress and her loose hair softened the lean, tough woman. After his personal life had imploded, he'd never thought to be this emotionally intimate with anyone—personally or professionally. “Then be clear. I'm not in the mood for cryptic,” he said, ignoring the irony.

She rolled her eyes. “I've seen it happen with friends. As soon as you let others into the relationship—just by saying you're involved with someone—it ups the expectations.”

“You should expect more of me now that we're engaged.” He tried to laugh it off.

“Stop growling like a bear.” She came over, easing down beside him in that careful way she had. “I'm saying it's okay if you don't tell your parents anything until you're ready. We're not in any rush.”

His pulse kicked as her ginger-and-clove scent washed over him. “But we'll keep lying to your mom when she's pressing for dates and plans?”

“I'll tell her to back off.” Frankie picked up his hand and rested it on her knee as if they were really together. “You've gone the extra mile for me.” She held up her left hand, flashing the ring and a wry smile. “It's my turn. Let's make a promise we won't let anyone else dictate what we want our life to look like.”

Despite knowing the words were for a faceless listener, they soothed him.
She
soothed him. This was dangerous territory he'd entered and he couldn't see the exit. “I was engaged once before.” It was too late to snatch the words back. Maybe if he opened up, she'd trust him a little more. “I never wanted to tell you.”

Her dark eyebrows arched high, her eyes wide. “You don't have to tell me. It doesn't matter.”

It mattered. Why hadn't he told her on the plane and avoided all this? He stroked his thumb along her ring finger, remembering another woman. “My family might not want to be around my wedding at all.” She needed to hear the story just in case Leo Solutions got a peek behind the credentials the Colby Agency had created for him. “I met her through a friend,” he began. “Call us foolish, but we went from introductions to engaged in about two seconds flat.”

Frankie had the grace to blush.

“My family adored her. They were thrilled I was settling down, and thought being married would change my career goals.”

“It didn't.” She squeezed his hand, her eyes full of sympathy.

Between her upbringing and her career, she understood what he was saying despite what he left unsaid. It was a strange sensation. Though the case that killed his fiancée was officially closed and sealed, the guilt would follow him forever. “If we'd met while you were still in the navy, would we even be here now?”

“I doubt it,” she said, her lips twitching into a wry grin. “My team never had much reason to be in Savannah.”

At her joke, something like relief loosened the knot in his chest. Recognizing his honesty, she comprehended the concept of what had happened, as well as the lingering effects.

He might be able to play the part of a doting fiancé, but he'd never let another relationship get serious enough to put a woman at risk. “You've figured it out. She became a target.” He kept his gaze on the window just past Frankie's shoulder. The memories assaulted him, anyway. “I couldn't save her. Our families were devastated by the loss. You know how it is. Hard words walk side by side with that kind of grief.”

“Aidan. It's okay.”

It wasn't. “Despite all that, I couldn't change who I am, what I'm good at.”

“No one should ask you to change.”

He couldn't stand the look on her face. Suddenly he wanted the sharp, tough Frankie, the woman impatiently searching for answers. He needed her to push him away. Instead, he pulled her body across his and kissed her, pouring all his frustration and desire into that sweet contact. Silently promising he wouldn't fail her as he'd failed others.

She didn't shove him away, but responded instantly, matching his urgency with her mouth and hands. He wrapped his arms tight around her, clinging until she was his only thought, his only awareness, his very breath. She knew his worst secret, his biggest failure, and she kissed him as if he was her hero.

Her head fell back and he feasted on the golden column of her throat. Her skin was so soft, with a trace of sweetness that was so at odds with her tough nature and determination.

“I love this dress,” he said, slipping his hand under the hem to caress her knee, her firm thigh.

She trapped his hand with hers, stopping his progress. The move brought him back to his senses. He leaned away enough to enjoy the view of her stunning face. The personal and professional lines between them were more than blurred; they'd been obliterated. He forced himself to release her before he completely lost control. He'd never expected their performance, their
lies
, to get into his head this way. “I think I'll check out the gym.” Awkwardly he pushed himself to his feet, left her there.

“I'll change and go with you.”

He shook his head. “I'm okay. I'd like some space.”

She sat up, smoothing her skirt, then her hair. “I'll work on dinner.”

“Thanks.” He shoved his hands into his pockets because he wanted to stay, to touch her and never quit. “I hope my past doesn't, um, change anything.”

“Not a chance,” she replied, busying herself with one of the throw pillows. “I'll come up with something so my mom doesn't pester you.”

“You're a terrific fiancée.”
In any context
, he thought. “I'll be back within the hour.” He escaped to the bedroom and changed clothes, still reeling from that kiss. He left the apartment without risking another word. Taking her in his arms had nothing to do with possible spy devices and everything to do with the heat she stirred inside him. If he didn't stick with logic, if he didn't find his balance, the investigation could fall apart. Aidan had no idea what he'd do without the work and shelter of the Colby Agency.

What had possessed him to be so damned honest with her? If he'd told her that on the plane or in the jewelry store, she might have backed off the stupid engagement idea. Although, based on what he'd seen so far, she'd been right to take that angle. It gave her mother something happier to focus on than their difficult last meeting.

Aidan knew better than most how survival often hinged on finding a purpose beyond the tragedy. Her mother had done it, creating the business. Frankie had used the intention of clearing her dad's name to empower her full recovery. He knew how she felt. His dogged hunt for his fiancée's killer had been excused as a search for justice. Only the intervention of cooler heads had saved him from himself. He decided he was here not just as an investigator, but to be that same voice of reason for Frankie.

To follow Victoria's orders he had to stay close and protect Frankie from herself as much as her drive for answers. Surely he could find a way to do his job and keep his hands off her, at least when they were alone.