Jordan Summers (4 page)

Delaney shut the closet door. It was done. Now she’d be able to track Mr. Gordon once he reached Los Angeles. She tucked the cleaning slip into her pocket and walked to the forward galley. Jack stood behind the galley wall out of view of the main cabin, dripping fat red drops onto the burnt orange rubber floor.

“A little club soda will take that right out.” She opened a hatch in the galley and plucked a can of club soda out of its hiding place. “I never knew what a miracle product this was,” she said, rambling like an idiot.

Relax, no one in the cabin can see you. You’ve worked undercover before. This isn’t your first day on the job. So what if all the cases had been minor.

It didn’t matter that this was the biggest case she had ever been assigned or that her promotion and the well-being of who knew how many innocent citizens were riding on her success. Her duty was to get next to Jack Gordon and she had…sort of.

Delaney walked around Jack, careful not to touch him, not because she was worried about getting tomato juice on her uniform, but because she didn’t like the feelings he invoked when they touched.

She grabbed a handful of paper towels, and turned the galley lights on bright, so she could see what she was doing. It was worse than she thought. A massive spot covered Jack’s jeans from groin to midthigh. Delaney took a deep breath and blew it out.

“This is going to be a bit cold, but it can’t be helped,” she warned.

“Believe me, it already is.” He laughed, a rich robust sound that sent tremors racing through her body.

“Stand still.”

“What are you going to—” The words died in Jack’s throat and his blue eyes widened in comprehension.

It didn’t occur to Delaney that there was a problem until she slowly dropped to her knees and came face to zipper with one
very
impressive Jack Gordon.

J
ACK’S MIND CEASED
to function as the flight attendant dropped to her knees before him. The cold he’d felt only moments ago faded into a slow burn that seemed to rise at the speed at which her slender hands made contact with his jeans.

He spied the name on her wings. Delaney. Pretty name for such a…He revised his earlier assessment of her. She was still the girl next door, but there was something alluring about her doe-like eyes. They were luminous and shimmering like the ocean at night on a full moon. Her lips were neither plump nor thin, but somewhere in between.

He wondered just how much they’d swell if someone kissed her senseless. Despite some trembling, her hands continued to work, patting his jeans with club soda. Earlier she’d deliberately avoided his gaze, which told him that she wasn’t exactly immune in the situation.

The slow graceful movements she made while stroking his inner thigh had Jack thinking of where else he’d like to have her caress. “I’m Jack Gordon,” he said, clearing his throat and willing his shaft to remain flaccid, which was as effective as spitting in the wind to put out a forest fire.

“Delaney Car—Carson,” she rasped.

Her eyes rounded more, if it were even possible. Hand raised, she hesitated an inch away from his leg, her gaze darting from the wet spot to his growing need and back again. Jack watched her pink tongue dart out of her mouth to moisten her lower lip and had to fight back a groan.

He nearly choked as he spoke. “I think you missed a spot.” Jack pointed to a spot above his knee.

Her mouth dropped open and Jack knew he was a goner.

“Oh, my, what are you doing?” Jeremy asked as he rounded the corner into the galley.

“I’m cleaning his pants,” Delaney said as if that should be obvious.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days? I could’ve sworn the new term was sexual…harassment.” Jeremy cocked his head and arched a brow. “I used the old ‘cleaning someone’s pants’ as an excuse five years ago. It didn’t work then, either. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned and left the galley, laughing as he walked away.

“I’ll get the rest,” Jack said, snatching the paper towels out of her hands and striding into the lavatory. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it for support. The teeth of his zipper bit into his tender flesh as he attempted to adjust the weight of his arousal.

What in the hell had just happened? He wasn’t some kind of randy teenager who got easily turned on by sexual innuendo. He’d come close to losing control with a woman he shouldn’t even be attracted to. Yet, she’d done more for his libido in a few minutes than the last five women he’d dated in the past year.

He shook his head and pressed the tap on the water dispenser. Jack splashed the cool liquid over his face, then braced his hands on the side of the sink, curling his fingers as he stared into the mirror. Droplets ran down his cheeks onto his shirt. The blue of his eyes was damn near black with need.

Jack’s hands trembled as he pulled out a fresh paper towel and dried his flushed face. He reminded himself that until he finished his move, he didn’t need any female complications. Once he settled into life in Paradise Valley and got his bearings with the greater Phoenix area, maybe he’d give Delaney a call. He knew that made perfect sense and was absolutely the right move to make. So why was he taking out his wallet to retrieve one of his business cards?

D
ELANEY THUMBED
the white card with gold embossed lettering that Jack Gordon handed her as he’d left the aircraft. Maybe her luck was turning. She and her crew had caught the shuttle outside of Terminal 1, riding the bus to the Doubletree Guest Suites in Santa Monica. Delaney knew her room would be set up for surveillance. She’d track Jack from there and decide her next move.

The Doubletree Guest Suites looked like any other midsize hotel. Situated four blocks from the beach and right next to the Santa Monica Freeway, the hotel couldn’t be in a better location for her purposes.

She tipped the shuttle driver and strode into the lobby. A huge Native-American basket-weave design greeted her as she half rolled and half dragged her bag over to the front desk. Had she somehow pissed off the wheel gods without knowing it? A sealed envelope was waiting. McMillan had been busy, while she worked her flight. Delaney glanced over to make sure that Jeremy and Barbie were still preoccupied with the car rental forms, before snatching the envelope off the counter. She shoved it in her bag upon their approach.

“Hey, we’ve rented a car and are going for dinner and drinks, care to join us?”

Delaney looked at her crew. Despite working with them over the past few days, she didn’t feel as if she belonged. Her real job kept her alienated and she liked it that way…or had. Other than the guys she’d dated, she never really hung out with her coworkers socially at the ATF. Working for the airline, where employees routinely hugged each other and met for meals, made that fact painfully obvious.

“No, thank you,” she replied. “I’m kind of beat. I think I’ll go to bed early.”

Jeremy glanced at his watch. “It’s only six.”

“I know, but I’m still getting used to this schedule.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. She’d never been so tired in her life and she’d worked longer hours at ATF.

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” They left, making plans for the night ahead.

Delaney plucked her key from the front desk clerk’s fingers with a quick thank-you, and walked across the lobby to the elevator doors. She could hear Jeremy’s and Barbie’s laughter fading as the door shut. A twinge of envy hit her, but she brushed it away. She didn’t have time to socialize. She was on duty.

A ding foretold the glass elevator’s arrival. Delaney stepped inside. The clear wall gave her a view of the ocean as the sun set over Santa Monica. She allowed herself to relax and enjoy the view for a moment. It was easy to forget how beautiful the ocean was while living in a landlocked state like Arizona.

She had the overwhelming urge to throw her things in her room and then go dip her toes into the cool water. Delaney shook herself. She wasn’t here on vacation. This was an assignment. She turned away from the view and waited for the elevator doors to open.

Delaney stepped into a deserted hall when she reached the fourth floor. Her room sat at the end of the corridor next to the exit. Just in case she needed to vacate in a hurry. She slipped her key into the lock and opened the door.

The taupe floors and peach-striped walls of her hotel room greeted her. She pulled her roller-bag inside and locked the door. Lonely silence enveloped her. She sighed. It was just like home, except she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep in the unfamiliar surroundings.

A laptop sat on a nearby desk next to a portable GPS unit. A set of rental car keys lay to the right of them. She knew bullets for her gun would be in the desk drawer. The Bureau wouldn’t want her going into the field with frangible rounds. She unstrapped her ankle holster and popped the clip out of her SIG Sauer, replacing it with 9 mm rounds of ammo.

Delaney turned on the laptop and waited for it to boot. As long as Jack Gordon still had his jacket on, she’d be able to track where he went.

She grabbed the envelope that McMillan had left for her and tore it open. Inside was the photo of a geeky college kid. At least that’s what she thought at first glance. Upon further examination, Delaney noticed lines bracketing his cruel mouth and the coldness of his eyes.

Delaney flipped the photo over. The name David Rico was splashed across the back. Beneath it was a notation in McMillan’s masculine scrawl.

Was she supposed to look for David Rico now? Should she drop surveillance on Jack Gordon? Delaney flipped open her phone. Her finger hovered above the number she used to speed-dial McMillan. She was about to press it, when the screen on her computer glowed to life. A map popped up, showing a red blip in Marina Del Rey, fifteen minutes away from her hotel. What was Jack doing in there, when he lived in Malibu?

She flipped the phone shut and changed out of her uniform quickly into a pair of faded jeans and a white blouse. Delaney slipped her ankle-high boots on, shoving her ID, credit card and cash into her pocket, before strapping on her pistol. She snatched the portable GPS unit off the desk, then pocketed her keys and raced out the door. If she hurried, she might be able to catch him before he left.

J
ACK PULLED IN TO
the parking lot of Jerry’s Famous Deli. He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he was being watched. He glanced around the area, slowly scanning the parked cars. A flash of movement brought his gaze back to a rented blue Chevy sedan. Was it his imagination or had someone ducked the second he looked over that way?

He knew it. Someone was following him. His gut never lied and had kept him alive on more than one occasion. Too bad it hadn’t helped on his final arms sale.

Hell, his guns had killed so many. He might as well have pulled the trigger himself. It would’ve been a lot more humane than what his last buyers had done. A shudder ran through his body as he recalled the acrid smell of burning flesh. He’d warned the neighboring villagers of the approaching threat, then walked away from his job and his old life, vowing never to return. He’d been too late to save them.

Jack’s gut clenched as he slipped his Glock into his shoulder holster, pulling his jacket down over it before exiting his Lexus. Some habits died harder than others. He strode to the front door. His pace was even as he watched for more movement out of the corner of his eye.

As soon as he’d opened the door and stepped inside the deli, Jack made his way toward the back of the restaurant, ignoring his hunger and the delicious aromas wafting in the air.

His stomach knotted as his mind raced through various scenarios. Was it someone from his past looking to even a score? Another government agent out to bust him? How many times did he have to tell those people that he was a legit dealer, before they quit harassing him? He’d been out of the business for over a year, at least.

Jack walked through the kitchen and left via the back door, ducking as he reached the cars. He crept forward, slowly making his way to the parked Chevy. A horn blared nearby. His heart lurched, but he kept moving. Jack ventured a glance or two at the driver, but with the oncoming darkness all he could see were shadows.

Standing one car away, Jack stepped behind the blue sedan. He sprinted the remaining feet to the driver’s door, his hand resting on the grip of the gun beneath his jacket.

Delaney gasped, swinging wildly with one hand, nearly clocking Jack in the face. She bent at the waist, reaching for something near the floorboard, then suddenly stopped as recognition dawned.

“You scared the daylights out of me,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart.

He released his weapon and casually pulled out a handkerchief from his inside pocket as if that was what he’d been reaching for all along. He wiped his dry brow, then shoved the white cotton back inside. “What are you doing here?” Jack knew he was yelling, but it pissed him off that she’d come so close to getting herself shot.

“I—I was hungry.” She glanced at the front of Jerry’s Famous Deli, and then back at him.

“You were watching me,” he accused, refusing to let her change the subject. “What are you doing in a rental car?”

Delaney took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, then allowed them to drop. She met his gaze head-on. Jack’s heart kicked hard in his chest and he felt himself melt under her regard. “I saw you after I pulled in. There is a difference between seeing and watching. As for the car, I wasn’t about to rely on the taxi service in Los Angeles and the Getty Museum is located a little too far away to walk.”

“I thought you said that you were hungry.” His gaze narrowed.

“I am. I planned to eat first, then go to the museum.”

His brow furrowed. “That still doesn’t explain why you ducked.”

“You saw that?”

He rested his palm on the roof of her car. “Yes, I saw that.”

She blushed in the most adorable way, before glancing at her hands. “I didn’t want you to think I was following you, especially after you gave me your card. I don’t usually date passengers. Most flight attendants don’t.”

Jack’s lips twitched. “Usually? Does that mean you were going to call?”

She looked past him at the deli’s front doors. “Maybe.”

Jack smiled then. He couldn’t help it. She looked like a kid who’d just got caught with a mouthful of chocolate. He reached for her door handle and pulled. The door opened wide. “Since you’re here, you could always join me for dinner.”

“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”

“I think I owe you, for scaring you half to death. Most women would’ve done a lot more than gasp.” He stilled as he considered her unusual reaction.

“I
GUESS
I’
M NOT
like most women.” Delaney had heard those words so many times in her life that she now believed them.
Women don’t try to carry all the groceries at once. Women don’t like to shoot guns. Women don’t enjoy Israeli Krav Maga fighting classes. Women don’t join the ATF and they certainly don’t become field agents.

And of course the pièce de résistance—
Why can’t you be more like your sister?
She couldn’t be angry with her parents. Delaney knew they were only trying to protect her. It was bad enough having one daughter incapacitated. They didn’t need two.

Jack waited for her to undo her seat belt, then he helped her out of the car. Delaney took a couple of deep breaths, smoothing her jeans to cover any trace of her ankle holster. She didn’t want to think about how close she’d come to shooting him.

“I kind of like that you aren’t like most women. It makes you unique,” he said, allowing his gaze to rake her as she hit the button on her remote to set the car alarm. “Shall we?”

Delaney nodded as he led her into the restaurant.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

“Why?” she asked, glancing at the huge array of items behind the glass counter as they entered the deli.

Jack grinned. “You’ll see.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s a warning,” he said with a wink.

“Perhaps I should warn you first.”

He tilted his head to peer at her. “About what?”

“My appetite.” She smiled. “I’m a hearty eater. In my family, you had to clean your plate and I was known as the bottomless pit.”

Jack laughed. “Sounds like the house I grew up in, but good luck doing that here.”

A hostess seated them after a short five-minute wait. The waitress, a woman named Lisa, who had enough piercing to be classified as a lightning rod, took their order and set off for the kitchen. A minute later a busboy came buy and dropped a basket of bagel chips onto the table along with green tomatoes and pickles.

Delaney picked up a cinnamon-raisin chip and started munching.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jack teased. “You’re going to need all the room you can get.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“When the food arrives, remember those famous last words.”

Delaney’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as the waitress placed the pastrami sandwich in front of her. There must have been some mistake. She’d only ordered a sandwich, not a platter. How was she going to take a bite out of this thing? It was over four inches thick, not counting the bread.

Jack watched her as he bit into his roast beef. “Doing all right there, tiger?”

“I’m managing,” she said, devising a plan of attack.

“The best approach is to dig in.”

Delaney lifted half the sandwich and tried to take a bite. Her mouth wouldn’t open wide enough. Jack started to laugh.

The sound washed over Delaney, easing the tension in her muscles, while drawing her near. “It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, wiping the side of his mouth with his napkin.

Delaney followed his movements, her gaze straying to his lips and dimpled cheeks. The man truly was
GQ
gorgeous. Would he kiss as good as he looked? Whoa! There would be no kissing on this assignment. It didn’t matter that the man’s mouth looked like it had been created for oral gratification. She tilted her head higher so that she was no longer staring at his sensual lips.

His blue eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Delaney ignored him and concentrated on her food. She flipped off the top piece of bread and dug into her sandwich with her knife and fork. The pastrami practically melted in her mouth.

“Mmm…this is great,” she said around bites.

Jack nodded. “I know. I like to come to Jerry’s at least a couple of times a month. They have the best matzo ball soup you’ll ever taste.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” she said, sipping her Coke. The bubbles tickled her nose and she snuffled.

“Are we going to do this again sometime?” His voice held an edge of eagerness that surprised her.

No, absolutely not. He could be the reason that Elaine would spend the rest of her life in a chair, her mind screamed, disappointing her body. Delaney knew that no matter what happened there was no chance that she and Jack would end up together. You can’t build a lasting relationship on a foundation of lies. Not that she’d actually considered having a relationship with Jack. She was simply caught up in the moment.

Delaney shrugged and said, “Let’s see how this meal goes first.”