Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (130 page)

"They're from a friend." She glanced at his sour expression. "For my birthday," she added as an afterthought, though it was really none of his business.

"A dozen red roses. An expensive gift from a friend."

His emphasis on the word friend annoyed her, but she said nothing.

"Actually, pink are my favourite."

Her gaze dropped to the table and the petals that had settled there. She would have to throw them out soon, she thought regretfully. Too bad. It wasn't often she received flowers.

"So, what is this important question you have to ask me?"

Instead of sitting down on the couch as she thought he'd do, he crouched down on his haunches in front of her, wearing an expression of supreme satisfaction that pricked at her self confidence. Frank leaned forward and took her hands firmly in his own. He captured her gaze and drew her forward, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She wondered if he meant to kiss her and felt her eyelids droop as she nibbled her lower lip. His gaze dropped to her lips, then raised to her eyes. Amusement glittered in the blue depths of his own.

"I just wanted to ask you this, Angel." His voice was a fluid murmur, like a brook rippling through quiet woods. "Will you marry me?"

In Too Deep: Chapter Four

"What?" Angel cried, her eyes widening. She snatched her hands out of his grasp. "Are you crazy?"

His smile broadened. "Don't worry, Angel. I'm just talking about our cover."

Our cover.
Oh, God, how had she ever gotten into this mess?

"No… You can't really mean… Hal approved this?"

"Why not? It's the most logical course. This way, we'll be able to share information easily. The fact that you're already established will help me get in." He raised his eyebrows. "Unless Vendetti has some policy against couples working together."

"No, he doesn't care," she responded reluctantly.

"Good."

He stood up and went over to settle in the chair across from her, the denim of his jacket out of place on the deep rose velveteen.

"But marriage, Frank? You and I? No one will believe it."

"Why not? You're a very good actress, Angel. We've already established that."

His sarcastic words stung. She glanced up to see his grim stare fixed on her. Her chest tightened painfully as she remembered the old days when fiery sparks would infuse that frigid blue with melting heat. The days of joy they'd shared. The days of love. The most wonderful days of her life.

She took a deep breath, banishing the memories away into the dark recesses of her mind. Those days were gone. "I would think the problem is how you'll act the part of my lover."

"Your lover? I'm sure I could play that part very well." His voice was like cool silk caressing her skin.

She rubbed her arms to rid herself of the goose bumps. "I meant…. You know what I meant. You can't stand me."

He stepped forward, towering over her. She shifted in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position. He crouched down and put a hand on each arm of her chair, leaning toward her.

"But I can act, too, Angel. Do you want me to show you?" His voice was soft, persuasive.

She narrowed her eyes, wondering what game he was playing. "No." She shook her head in emphasis.

"But you've called my abilities into question. Now I'll have to prove myself."

Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her to her feet. His arms slid around her and he drew her body against his own.

Too many sensations hit her all at once. His hard chest pressed against her soft breasts. His arms firm and secure around her. The scent of his crisp aftershave reminding her of other times when he'd held her in his arms.

One of his hands slid up her back and his fingers entwined in her hair, cupping the back of her head. Slowly, he eased her face toward his, holding her entranced with his eyes—his melting hot, frigid blue eyes. He wanted her, but he didn't love her. He didn't even like her. He blamed her for his pain. And it was knowing that, knowing how much she'd hurt him, that stopped her from pushing him away. Guilt lay a heavy burden on her heart.

His lips met hers in a gentle caress, a mere brush of flesh on flesh. She wanted to moisten her lips, to dip her tongue out in search of his. The feel of his lips moving on hers made her heart thud. He dipped her back, her spine arching over his strong arm, her head spinning. His probing tongue nudged her lips apart and she felt consumed by the joy of sharing such an intimate pleasure with him.

Oh, God, it would be so easy to forget what had happened between them, to allow him to sweep her back to that loving time they'd shared. It would be so easy to forget a lot of things. Like the reason why she couldn't fall in love with Frank. Like the fact that she had an important job to do—and a cover to protect. Loving Frank would get in the way.

Not only that, Frank would be hurt. Again. Because in the end, she'd have to walk away.

Anyway, Frank wasn't kissing her out of love. He was trying to prove something to her. That he could do his job. That he could convince other people he was in love with her—even though it wasn't true. She'd better make darned sure she remembered that.

As though he sensed her withdrawal, he drew her upright and their lips parted. When she looked into his eyes, she saw that the ice had splintered into fragments of emotions. Pain. Anger. Confusion. Desire. Each one sharply felt.

"Still think I'll have a problem convincing people?" His voice, soft and sure, contrasted with the chaos in his eyes.

She pushed away from him. "There's more to loving than a kiss, Frank."

"I know."

His gaze slid down to her breasts, a wicked grin curling his mouth. Could he hear the frantic beating of her heart? She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. "I'm talking about love, not love-making."

His grin faded, transforming the mischievous rogue into a business-like professional. "It can work if it's handled properly," he assured her. "After all, I did fall in love with you…once." His voice was tinged with bitterness.

"You really think you can carry it off?" She wasn't so sure. He could drive her crazy with his kisses, but he could barely carry on a civil conversation with her for more than five minutes.

"I'm a professional, too, Angel. I can act the part required of me."

That's all it would be, she knew. An act. It shouldn't hurt this much to know she'd driven him away so successfully, she'd made him hate her so thoroughly, that he'd never even like her again, let alone love her. She needed to keep him at a distance, to ensure that he didn't endanger her way of life. She couldn't get involved with anyone who might interfere with her cover.

This was the best, for him as well as her. If he were to fall in love with her, to want her the way he had four years ago, then she'd only break his heart again—because she'd never give up being Angela Tortina. And that meant never being able to live a normal life, with a husband and a family. With a man she could love.

The best thing would be to keep the discussion on a business level.

She grabbed the flowered cushion beside her and distractedly wrung at the corner of it. "What's your background story?"

He tugged an envelope out of his jacket pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. "Read this over later. It provides the details, but basically my name is Frank Marino. You and I knew each other as children." He paced back and forth as he explained. "I arrived in town a few days ago, saw you on the street, recognized you. Our little rendez-vous last night would work for that. We'll go out a few times and fall in love." He shrugged. "Simple enough."

"You think they'll believe I'd fall in love with a man in a couple of weeks and be willing to get married? Just like that?"

"Why not? It can happen in real life." He stopped pacing. "It happened to me in Hawaii."

Their gazes connected, evoking the memory of his heartfelt proposal—after they'd known each other for only three weeks. He'd wanted to marry her even though he'd thought she was involved with the mob—because he'd fallen in love with her. He would have protected her and cared for her. Somehow, she knew he would have accepted her even if she'd been involved in the dirty side of the business. He would have found a way of converting her.

He would have forgiven her being a criminal. But he could not forgive her for putting her cover ahead of his safety. For putting her job ahead of him.

Angel glanced away. "What I don't understand is, why did they bring you onto this case?"

"You haven't been able to solve it on your own."

Resentment welled up in her. "I need more time!" She knew how important it was to solve this case, but at the same time, she had to be careful. She couldn't pry too much without drawing suspicion onto herself. Her cover had to be protected. She'd worked too long and too hard to blow it now.

"You've had enough time. You, of all people, should want this mess cleared up as soon as possible. Your cover is in danger. I can't believe it hasn't been blown yet."

"Hal is the only one in the office who knows about me. Some of the higher-ups know of my existence, but not who I am. Hal can refuse to divulge my identity to anyone, even under direct orders."

"And you trust this guy Hal?"

"With my life."

"That's what it might come down to," he muttered.

Frank had stirred up her deepest insecurities. Late at night when she lay alone in her bed, she often thought about the fact that her fate was so vulnerable to the actions of others. What if Hal ever let her name slip to the wrong person? What if policies changed in the Bureau and someone got access to her file who shouldn't? What if she ever ran into someone who recognized her from high school? Sweeping them aside, she concentrated on the more pressing question facing her. "So what do they think you can do that I can't?"

"We need someone who can get access to information you can't."

She planted her hands on her hips, frowning. "And just how do you think you can do that? I'm part of their operation. If I can't get it—"

"Because I'm going to become part of their operation, too. Through you. They trust you. If we're married—"

"Just because you marry me, doesn't mean they'll necessarily trust you."

"Once I talk to Vendetti, I'll be able to convince him to hire me. You work in the office, but I intend to get involved in some of the operations directly."

"Yeah. How?" She didn't even try to keep the skepticism from her voice.

"You don't need to know that."

She shot to her feet and glared at him. "What do you mean I don't need to know? We're partners, remember? This is my case, too. You may not like me or my methods, Frank, but I am an agent. Don't forget that."

"And don't you forget it! This information is on a need-to-know basis. And you don't need to know."

His sharp blue glare pierced her bubble of indignation. He was right. She was a professional and if their superiors decided she didn't need to know something, she had to accept that.

She sank back into her chair. There could be any number of reasons why they wouldn't tell her. It was always easier to
be
unaware of a fact than to
act
unaware.

"I see." Another disturbing thought wiggled its way through her consciousness. "And why…" She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed. "Why are you the one to decide?"

He had the decency to look apologetic. "Because, Angel," he responded, his voice quiet. "I'm the senior agent on this case."

"So you're in charge?" She sat still for a few moments, chewing the inside of her lip, letting that information sink in. She'd never had to answer to anyone on a day-to-day basis. Not in her real job, anyway. Carlos set her tasks in the office, but the more important work—her work uncovering and reporting information on mob activities—ran totally under her own discretion. Following orders from anyone would be difficult, but from Frank?

Too many things were changing too quickly. She gripped the armrests tightly. Her life seemed to be spinning out of control and she felt dizzy. She wanted life to slow down, to give her time to breathe.

"I need to know how quickly we can get married."

She glared at him resentfully. "You're the boss. Isn't that your decision?"

"You're the expert, Angel."

Immediately, she felt contrite. Where had her declared professionalism gone?

"I'm sorry, Frank. I'm just…not used to working with someone."

"You'd better get used to it."

She took a deep breath, holding back the sharp retort that leaped to mind. "We'll have to proceed carefully. It'll take time."

"We don't have much time."

"Then we'll have to make time!" she snapped.

He crossed his arms, impatience showing in the tight set of his jaw. "How long, Angel? Before the wedding can take place."

She directed her eyes to the philodendron reaching up over Frank, wishing it would reach down and strangle him.

Think about the answer to his question.

The plant blurred as her gaze drifted out of focus. She thought about other couples who'd gotten engaged, remembering the malicious gossip when one couple had acted too quickly. The family had old-fashioned ideas about love and courtship.

"Two months—"

"Two months before the wedding?" Frank demanded.

"No," she shifted her gaze and focused on him. "Two months of dating before we can announce an engagement, then—"

"We can't wait that long."

She released a burst of air from her lungs. "We'll have to. Anything sooner would draw too much attention. No one would believe—"

"Damn it." His fist connected with the arm of the love seat in a dull thump. "If it means we have to endanger your cover, so be it."

A raging anger blazed through her. Angel clenched her fingers around the cushion lying on her lap, tightening them until she thought they would snap. He might have seniority, but…. "Who are you to decide that?" she demanded.

"I'm the one they've brought in to make sure the job gets done."

His tight response acted like a slap across her face. She'd been working on this case for six months, ever since the Bureau first realized there was an informant—and she'd gotten nowhere. Did the powers-that-be think her incompetent? And did they really deem her cover expendable? Well, if the first was true…