Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (140 page)

"Frank?" she whispered.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about. Cindy, there was nothing you could have done."

Her head fell forward, resting against his chest and great wracking sobs shook her frame. He held her and crooned comforting words, stroking her hair, holding her close while she let out the grief that had darkened her soul far too long. She'd probably never told anyone what she'd told him tonight. She'd probably never had anyone she could tell. The authorities would have gotten the facts, but the anger and frustration, the guilt—she'd have hidden those away.

His heart throbbed knowing she'd chosen to tell him, that she trusted him enough. The need to be there for her burrowed into his soul, starting an ache that he knew would transcend time. God, he wanted to be the one she turned to. Always.

Slowly, she pulled away a couple of inches. Her voice quiet and calm, she started talking again. "After that, I heard my father sobbing. A gun went off, then… silence wrapped around me in that dark closet… a choking, chilling silence." She rubbed at her upper arms. "The police found me later—I don't know how long—still in the closet. I couldn't make myself come out. I couldn't…" She clutched at the fabric of his shirt. "…face the blood. Couldn't face—" Her knuckles whitened at her tightening grip. "Oh, God, Frank. I relived that night for years. I was afraid to go to sleep at night for fear of seeing them again… seeing… what those butchers had done to them."

Frank's stomach churned violently at the thought of the gruesome sight that held Angel in its grip. His hands clenched into fists as he longed to get his hands on the bastards who had caused Angel this kind of suffering. Feeling her shift against him, he thrust the thoughts aside, realizing he had to concentrate on Angel, on helping her through this. He tightened his arms around her, pressing her face against his chest and tenderly stroking her hair.

"Angel. Cindy, I wish… If I could only…"

"No. Don't worry about me, Frank. It was a long time ago."

When he looked at her, he was shocked to see his concern for her mirrored back in her warm, brown eyes. How could she be worried about him while still suffering from her own personal nightmare?

"Cindy…"

Her lips curled up in a tiny smile. "Frank. I think you should stick with Angel, okay?" She drew her finger down his cheek all the way to his chin. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Thanks for listening."

"Anytime, Angel."

She sat back against the rock they shared and sighed. "You have a question you want to ask me, don't you? I can see it in your eyes."

"It may not be the right time."

"Go ahead, Frank. Right now, I think I could face anything."

He picked up a stone and flung it across the sand, watching the water turn blood red with the dying rays of the sun.

"Angel, how did you ever come to work undercover? How could you possibly bring yourself to work with the same kind of people who had killed you parents?"

She sat forward, examining his face. "Don't you see? It was the only thing I could do. After it happened, I withdrew into myself. Shut out the world. Hal was the agent assigned to my dad. After the hit, he knew the only thing that could give me a purpose was to hurt the people who had murdered my parents—and taken away my life. He gave me the opportunity to work undercover. He gave me the chance to avenge my parents' death. That's the only thing that's kept me going all these years."

"But surely you've done enough?"

Her gaze clashed with his, hard and purposeful.

"No. It'll never be enough, Frank. Never."

In Too Deep: Chapter Eight

As Frank finished bringing in their luggage, Angel perused the stack of mail her neighbour had piled on the kitchen table. A grey envelope with Carlos' return address on the upper left hand corner caught her attention. She sliced open the top flap and tugged out a folded sheet of matching grey parchment. Inside, printed in a bold black font, was an invitation to a party at Carlos' home the following Friday.

Peering over her shoulder, Frank scanned the invitation. "This will give me the perfect opportunity to hit old Carlos up for a job."

She glanced around, startled at how close Frank stood, his face mere inches from her own as he hovered behind her shoulder. She gulped and handed him the invitation, then strode to the counter to fill a glass with water, wanting to put more distance between them. As she sipped, she watched him sitting hunched forward on the chair, studying the invitation he held in his hands thoughtfully.

She took a gulp of water, then deposited the glass on the counter.

"You can't just waltz up and ask him for a job."

He glanced at her. "The trick is to get him to ask me."

Her gaze darted to his face. "Do you have any idea how to do that?"

He nodded, staring back at the invitation in his hands, his lips pressed together as he concentrated. "Yeah. I don't really think it'll be that hard." He turned to her again. "You go back to work on Monday. That gives you a whole week to drop hints about how annoying it is to have me lazing around the place while you get up and do the nine-to-five bit every day. You know, the old layabout husband letting his wife bring home the bacon."

His words and that lazy half grin of his made her laugh. "Is that any way for an adoring wife of one whole week to talk about her new husband?" she asked.

He dropped the invitation on the table and sauntered over to her, trapping her between his arms as he gripped the counter. "Is that what you are? An adoring wife?"

That grin up close was even more devastating than at a distance.

"No. Who could adore a mug like this?" She tweaked his cheek and laughed. "I'm just the world's greatest actress, that's all, with the world's most difficult role." She tried to duck under his arm but he was too fast for her, snagging her with one arm and tickling her side with the other hand.

"Is that right?"

Dreadfully ticklish, she crumpled over, giggling hysterically, his arm the only thing stopping her from falling to the floor in a heap. She raked at his wrist, firmly wrapped around her waist, desperate to stop him so she could breathe again. Laughing was all exhaling, no inhaling, and she was getting desperate for air. Finally, she pounded at him, still in the throes of laughter, tears flowing from her eyes.

"Stop it, Frank. Stop it," she finally squeaked in a burst of stolen breath.

The torturing fingers stopped for a moment. She gulped in a lung full of air—then they started again. She flung herself sideways, dropping them both to the floor. She tumbled onto her back, breasts heaving, and he rolled across her laughing as hard as she was.

Once they'd both caught their breath, she wiped moisture from her eyes, then found herself staring up into his face. One corner of his mouth was higher than the other, as it always was when he smiled, and his eyes crinkled to slits, but not narrow enough to hide the brilliant blue colour. Dancing with amusement, they mesmerized her. Her wide smile faded, suddenly out of place, as the thumping of her heart shifted in rhythm from frivolity to sexual awareness. Devilishly attractive in this mood, her husband was irresistible.

When had she started thinking of him as her husband? What an alarming thought.

Her focus sharpened, taking in his well-formed nose, the lightly whisker-shadowed angles of his jaw, his straight eyebrows. Strands of dark hair had fallen onto his forehead and she couldn't stop herself from pushing them back, letting her fingers glide through his hair as she stroked over the crown of his head, then down to his nape. The feel of his silky waves between her fingers sent erotic threads weaving through her. Of its own volition, her other hand slid to his neck and she pulled him down to meet her lips.

He came—willingly, eagerly—and passion flared between them. Bright and bold. All consuming. She wanted him. Now. Here. On the kitchen floor. She didn't care as long as she could feel his body against her. Inside her. She wanted to rip off the clothes that came between them, feel his bare skin on hers.

She felt him pull away and she groaned her objection. "Frank? What's wrong?"

Resting on one forearm, stroking tendrils of hair from her face, he stared down at her tenderly. "So all I have to do to seduce you is tickle? That's an approach I've never tried before."

His lips turned up in that heart-stopping grin she'd come to both long for and dread. Dread because it did frightening things to her equilibrium. Long for because no healthy, warm-blooded woman could stop herself from wanting to see that boyish, seductive smile. Her eyelids drooped as she stared longingly at the sheen of light reflecting off his full lower lip and she moistened her own as she anticipated the feel of his mouth against hers. She slid her hands onto his cheeks and drew him back to her.

Their lips grazed for an all-too-brief kiss and then he pulled back again.

"Angel," he murmured. "We both know where this will lead, but you're not ready. Nothing has changed since St. Lucia. We've got a lot of things to sort out before we can carry our personal relationship further, and that won't happen until one of us decides on a drastic change in lifestyle. Am I right?"

She stared at him. His words, spoken gently but with determination, cut through the haze that obscured the proper functioning of her brain. She sucked in a deep breath and slid a hand over her forehead, shoving wayward curls off her face..

"You're right. I'm sorry." Her cheeks burned. "I don't know what came over me."

"Besides me, you mean?" His lips brushed her cheek lightly and he pushed himself onto his knees with one powerful thrust of his arm. He grabbed her hand and pulled them both to their feet. "I don't think an apology is exactly appropriate. Not when I enjoyed that as much as you did."

He hooked his hands around her waist then slid up her sides, as though he didn't want to stop touching her. "Believe me, if things weren't so unsettled between us, I'd take you up on your invitation."

How could Frank be so sensible? And so wonderfully sensitive. How could she help but love him? And how could she stop from being hurt by him?

Not him, really. Their situation. Their differing needs. Never by Frank.

He leaned her against the counter and handed her the glass of water she'd filled earlier. "Here. Now back to business, you slouch. We were talking about setting Vendetti up to hire me."

He straddled one of the kitchen chairs, leaning his arms on the back, facing her, reminding her to drop hints to Carlos about Frank needing work. Carlos knew Angel had a strong work ethic and would be bothered by Frank's unemployment. Frank also pointed out that Carlos would be smart enough to see the benefit of having them both in his organization, allowing him to garner Frank's loyalty as well as Angel's. With both of them under his rule, he would have no worries about Angel inadvertently leaking information to a man who may feel free to pass it on to unscrupulous listeners.

* * *

On the night of the party, Angel chose a jazzy black knit dress to wear. Short and clingy, it had a gold thread twisted through the yarn to give it a glitter effect. Gold flowers and vines were embroidered around the scoop neckline, studded with large gems.

"You look dazzling, Angel," Frank said when she strolled into the living room. He had been reading a book while she got ready, having already changed in the bathroom.

"Thank you, Frank. You look pretty spiffy yourself."

She reached up and straightened his tie, knowing she did it more so she could touch him than any other reason. He looked fabulous in his black, light wool suit, his jade green and charcoal tie setting off his aqua shirt.

When they arrived at the party, several vehicles were already parked by the six car garage of Carlos' huge home. The butler took their coats and ushered them into the party. Carlos saw them arrive and excused himself from a small circle of guests.

"Angel! How wonderful you look tonight." Carlos grasped Angel's arms and kissed her cheek. "Married life agrees with you." He turned to Frank and pumped his hand. "Welcome to my home, Frank. You seem to be taking good care of my girl."

"I'm doing my best."

The adoring smile Frank gave her as he pulled her more firmly against his side made her heart beat faster.

Carlos led them to the bar and got them set up with drinks, then he left to greet some new arrivals. Angel sipped her wine spritzer and surveyed the room, pointing out various key figures to Frank. She caught sight of Dino leaning against the wall across the room watching her, scowling. Tipping her glass at him, she smiled. His scowl deepened, but he nodded in acknowledgment, then turned away.

Angel took Frank around and introduced him to most of the people she knew. Many had been at their wedding. Frank surreptitiously watched Vendetti all evening. When he saw the older man break away from a group of people to go to the bar, Frank excused himself from Angel's side.

* * *

"So, Angel tells me you're out of work."

Frank scratched his jawline. "Yeah, well, I'm relatively new in town and don't have many contacts yet."

"What line of work are you in, Frank?"

Frank glanced down at his drink and swirled it around, the ice cubes chinking against the sides of the glass. "You could say I work in security."

Vendetti's eyebrows went up. "You mean like a security guard?"

Frank smiled. "Not exactly. I worked for Victor Fantucci out in Vegas for a while, until he decided to retire. The stuff I did for him involved checking out the background of new people joining his organization, overseeing shipments of money from the casinos, and other operations he had going. Things like that."

"I know Victor. He has a good-sized operation. There'd be lots of opportunities for an ambitious man like yourself. Why did you leave?"

"I'd been with Victor for a few years and worked my way up in the organization. I'd been hoping for a promotion to head of security for his casinos, but when the time came, Victor promoted a guy named Giovanni Labentti. Now, I don't have anything against the guy, have never even met him, but I'd been hoping for that position for a long time. So, I decided it was time to move on. You know, try my luck somewhere else. I pulled up roots and came out here to New York. I understand there are lots of opportunities here." He glanced at Angel, chatting animatedly with an older woman in a royal blue, satin suit, and smiled broadly. "Best thing I ever did."