Princess (8 page)

chapter
11

S
ummer Mulcahey hated computers and the feeling happened to be mutual.

Scowling, she stared down at the screen of her frozen laptop. Why did the wretched thing work with-out a hiccup around her husband, but freeze completely around her?

Abruptly the screen unlocked, flickered twice, and then Microsoft Windows crashed.

Muttering, she rebooted the computer and went through the laborious steps to track down the digital culprit, managing a successful reboot. Ten minutes later she had forgotten the cucumber mask slathered over her cheeks and was peering at weather forecasts for Washington State.

The reports were ominous. Forty mile-an-hour winds were already pounding the Olympic Peninsula and more rain was predicted over the next forty-eight hours.

She looked outside at the snow falling in dark Philadelphia streets. Summer had a strong suspicion that more than a storm was at stake in Washington. In the last week, four senior field agents from her office had been quietly reassigned to the Northwest, with no explanations offered. Questions were met with silence.

Which meant that a highly classified operation had been initiated.

And if Jess had stumbled into the middle of that operation . . .

Summer closed her eyes. Her twin sister was smart, responsible, and able to take care of herself, but worrying about Jess had become one of Summer’s oldest habits.

Sighing, she turned back to the weather maps, trying to gauge the storm’s progress. What was the name of her sister’s latest hotel assignment? Was it the Meridian or was it the Marathon—

The doorknob turned behind her.

Summer’s frown burst into a radiant smile as a tall man in a Navy uniform filled the doorway. She jumped up, knocking her chair down in the process, and the force of her hug drove him back against the wall. “You’re home!”

“Sorry I’m a day late. Something came up.” Her husband didn’t say more, and after a glance at his face, Summer didn’t ask. Work generally meant secrets neither could reveal.

Gabe caught her with one arm, grinning. “Got off the plane twenty-five minutes ago. One of the men offered to give me a ride, and we drove straight through from Virginia.”

Summer shoved at the buttons on his jacket. “The last four weeks have felt like a few decades. In fact, I’m probably an old hag with gray hair already.”

The SEAL held her a little away from him and studied her face. “Not a gray hair in sight, but it looks like the aliens have landed.”

Summer shoved at his chest, laughing. “I forgot I had this gunk on my face. Jess sent it a few weeks ago and insisted I try it out. I’ll go clean up, but I don’t want you to move an inch.” As she raced to the bathroom, she called over her shoulder. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Nothing that I want to remember.” Gabe stripped off his uniform jacket and laid it on the leather chair near the door. “By the way, Izzy said to tell you hi.”

Down the hall water ran, then was abruptly shut off. “Izzy? You saw Izzy?”

“I passed him in the hall a few days back. Nothing formal.” Gabe chuckled. “He said to tell you that married life agrees with me.”

Summer appeared, minus the green gunk, her hair pulled free of its rubber band and curling softly around her shoulders. “I’m delighted to hear it, Lieutenant Morgan.”

“You should be, Mrs. Morgan, since you’re largely to blame.”

In one stride, Gabe had his arms around her, his mouth hot and impatient.

When Summer could break away to speak, she looked down, enjoying the sight of Gabe stripping in record time. “Just so you know, I fell asleep in the tub working on my current case. But I used that pineapple bubble stuff you like, and then the coconut oil lotion Jess sent me for Christmas.” She toyed with the belt of her robe. “Not wearing anything else. Just in case you’re interested.”

Gabe’s eyes darkened and he said something under his breath. His hands loosened her belt and slid inside her robe. “In that case, we ought to do something about it.”

“Anything particular in mind?” One side of her robe gaped free.

“You’re damned right I’ve got something in mind.” Gabe planted slow kisses down her neck and shoulder. “I haven’t thought about anything else for the last four weeks.”

Summer yanked at his belt. “The bedroom’s probably cold. I opened the window earlier and then—”

“Forget about the bedroom, honey. We’re not going to make it.” Gabe opened her robe and filled his hands with her. His breath was harsh and strained. “Right here, Summer. Right against this wall.”

Snow brushed the window, leaving little white tracks as he shoved off her robe and brought their bodies together.

Summer stretched slowly, every muscle in her body unkinked and luxuriously relaxed. “Wow,” she said.

“Well said, honey.” The snow was still whispering against the windows.

Now Summer watched it from bed, burrowed beneath a thick quilt.

Gabe’s job as a Navy SEAL meant all of his work was classified, and much of the same held true for her assignments as an FBI field agent. Both of them were keenly aware of the heavy security issues imposed by their jobs, and both were scrupulous about observing those rules.

At the same time, they were both struggling with the whole concept of marriage, still waking up amazed to be together. When the distance was factored in, with Gabe based on the West Coast and Summer here in Philadelphia—

She closed her eyes. At least their distance problem would soon be resolved. In a month Gabe was set to be transferred to Little Creek, Virginia, while she was being assigned to a field office in Maryland.

Meanwhile they met when they could, talked often, and managed to stir the embers through long-distance phone calls that had grown increasingly heated.

In fact, Summer had discovered a definite talent for phone sex.

But she had never had much experience with normal relationships as an adult, and as a female agent training for the FBI, her world became even more proscribed. Because she wanted her marriage to Gabe to succeed, she was determined to master
normal.

Of course, she still hadn’t figured out what
normal
meant.

She stopped tracing Gabe’s muscular chest and rolled onto one elbow. “Are you hungry? I made some spaghetti sauce yesterday and—”

The SEAL cracked open one eye. “You
cooked
? With pans and cutlery and real garlic?”

Summer flushed. She refused to tell him that she’d spent three hours hunched over a cookbook, trying to make sense of unknown spices and the proper method of tim-ing al dente pasta. After all, other women made spaghetti in their sleep. Other women actually made pasta from scratch, mixing the dough and rolling it out in expensive little machines.

It infuriated Summer that it took her three hours to come up with a reasonably palatable approximation of a simple, home-cooked meal.

But she refused to admit that to him.

If he wanted normal, he was going to get normal.

“No big deal. I can handle cutlery. As a matter of fact, Jess sent me a new cookbook, and I decided to try it out while you were gone.”

Gabe cupped her chin and turned her face up to his. There was something unreadable in his eyes as he slowly traced her cheek. Summer had forgotten the small bruise on her neck, but Gabe kissed it carefully. “New case?”

“Yeah.”

“Rifle recoil?”

Summer shrugged.

For a moment something came and went in Gabe’s eyes. “I can’t tell you to be careful, can I?”

“It’s my job, Gabe. If I’m thinking how to protect me, I can’t think about protecting everyone else.”

He said something under his breath, then kissed her fiercely, his hands locked in her hair while he captured her beneath him.

Summer finally pulled away and took a deep breath. “What was that for?”

“Thank you.”

“For a few cups of spaghetti sauce?”

“For being the best at what you do. For making me food when we both know you hate the thought of cooking.” Looking down, he traced the slender gold band on her finger. “For being everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

Summer blinked hard, struck with a wave of emotion. Just when she thought she had this man figured, he said something that turned her inside out.

Maybe being normal wasn’t so important after all.

“Okay, it did take me three hours and the kitchen looked like the evacuation of Dunkirk by the time I was done, with olive oil over most of one wall. But when you get the garlic just right, the smell is amazing.” Summer’s eyes narrowed as she saw Gabe’s crooked grin. “Well, it is,” she said defensively. “And the thing about olive oils—who knew they could all be so different? Like handguns, you know what I mean? They all do the same job, but they’re worlds apart.”

“Honey, only you could compare extra virgin olive oil to handguns.” Gabe nuzzled her breast, tugging the sensitized skin with his teeth until Summer made a breathless sound.

Suddenly she froze. “Wait a minute. You said you saw Izzy?”

Gabe nodded.

Alarm bells rang in Summer’s head as she realized that Gabe hadn’t volunteered any details.

So this was work, probably classified.

But classified or not, her sister’s safety was in question and Izzy had the answers. “Jess told me she’d run into Izzy out in Washington. I’m worried that she’s landed in the middle of something dangerous.”

Something closed down in Gabe’s face.

“You can’t talk about it, can you? I understand that, Gabe. I’ve never asked before, and I won’t ask now. But if Jess is in danger, I can’t stand by and keep quiet. You know how impulsive she can be.”

“It’s part of her charm.”

Summer’s hands tightened on the quilt. “If—if something ever happened to her—”

“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” Gabe said quietly. “I’ll ask a few questions and tell you everything I can.”

Which might be very little, Summer knew. She was bound by the same rules in her work. But something was better than nothing.

“If Jess is tangled up with Izzy, it’s a bad sign,” she said slowly. “I know the game plan, and I won’t pry. But I’m calling her.” There was a catch in her voice. “I need to know that she’s okay.”

“You worry too much.” Gabe slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “That’s part of
your
charm. But you need to remember that Jess is smart and she’s tough in her own way. You don’t need to fight her battles for her.”

He was right, Summer thought. Jess was smart, stubborn, and independent.

She took a deep breath, looking out at the snow and thinking about a house with too many shadows and too much regret. It was hard to stop worrying about someone you loved, she discovered.

Summer was paid to take risks. She actually enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the challenge of pushing herself to the limit. But Jess didn’t know that dark world. She still trusted in human honesty and the generosity of strangers.

And that trust scared Summer more than anything else.

When Gabe eased from the bed an hour later, Summer made a muffled protest, then rolled onto her side, burrowing into the warmth left behind him.

Quietly, the SEAL moved outside and punched a button on his cell phone.

Izzy Teague answered on the first ring. “Acme Car Wash. Hand polishing is our specialty.”

“One of these days you’re going to wise off to some Beltway big shot and find yourself out on your ass looking for a new line of work,” Gabe said dryly. “I could have been the SecDef or head of the Joint Chiefs.”

“Not on this line, pal. Only two people have this number.” A chair creaked. “
Don’t
ask who the other person is.” Izzy was quiet for a moment, keys tapping at a computer. “You’re calling about Jess, I take it.”

Gabe watched a fresh curtain of snow veil the window. “You don’t miss much, same as always. Tell me what you can.”

“Jess wandered into the middle of . . . something. But that’s it. Tell Summer there’s nothing to worry about.”

Gabe frowned. “I have your word on that? Summer’s damned touchy where Jess is concerned. It’s one of those twin things.”

“Jess is fine. I’m watching out for any possible . . . complications.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “If they arise, you’d better haul ass and deal with those complications,” he said quietly.

“Trust me, civilians wandering around in the middle of work is not my idea of good mission planning.”

So Izzy was on a mission, Gabe thought. “Anything you can talk about?”

Izzy cleared his throat. “Afraid not.”

“If that changes, you know where to reach me.”

“Roger that.”

“Watch your six, Teague,” Gabe muttered. After hanging up, he stared into the darkness, running through a list of possible contacts, starting deep inside the Pentagon.

Then he leaned back and dialed the first name on his extensive net of military contacts.

When Gabe finally put down the phone, his thoughts were far away from the quiet snow dusting the Philadelphia streets.

On the desk in front of him was a toy otter from the Monterey Bay Aquarium, a gift from Summer. Nearby was a photo of Summer with her proud superior after both had received special citations for their work on a high-profile kidnapping case.

Leaning down, Gabe opened a drawer of the desk and pulled out a plain blue rubber band, like thousands of others sold in cheap packages anywhere in the country.

But this rubber band had helped him through half a dozen operations after an accident in the line of duty. Because it had come from Summer’s hair, he still regarded it as a powerful talisman.

Twisting the rubber band between his fingers, he stared out into the snow-swept darkness. Now that he knew Izzy’s covert assignment, he had to assess how closely Jess was involved.

And the animal involved was more than a description in a secret file, because Gabe had spent the last month guarding the missing lab animal on its maiden voyage from Australia. The trouble had begun three months earlier, when the ultrasecret transgenic koala bear had developed unexpected heart problems, which had not responded to treatment.