Undercover Passion (12 page)

Despite the buildup he used, the question caught her off guard.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

His green eyes seemed to see right through her skin, right into her soul. She had a sudden sense of there being no escape. She shook her head, rummaging in her mind but coming up empty.

“Nothing. Not a single thing. I told you I don't take pills and the bars aren't really to my taste.”

He moved closer, nailing her with that cold stare. “Abby, think. There must be something.”

“No.” She shook her head and her long earrings slapped her cheeks. Then she did think of something. She looked up at him, blinking rapidly, not sure if this would help. “Well, I did use the NoWait oil for losing weight. Though I don't consider that ‘taking' something since you just put it behind your ear.”

He stopped like a hound on point, motionless
but eager. “The NoWait stuff?” He frowned. “Really? When was that?”

“I started using it the beginning of last week. Oh, I think it was the day you came to the seminar and got that purple juice spilled on your shirt and—”

He was up and moving toward her room. “Where is it?” he demanded.

“On the dresser.” Putting down her teacup, she rose and followed him, feeling an impending sense of doom and not sure why.

He hesitated in the doorway. “Where's that cat?” he asked her.

“Ming's in the kitchen,” she assured him. “I just saw her there.”

Striding into the room, he zeroed in on the little pot of oil, taking off the cap and sniffing the contents. Frowning, he turned to look at her.

“And you just put dabs of it behind your ears?” he asked her in disbelief.

She nodded. “I fit into this gown because of it. It really does work, you know.”

He looked at her, risked a quick survey of how the gown looked on her lush and lovely body, then turned his attention back to the oil.

Why had he been so dense as to rule that sort
of thing out from the first? He was losing his touch. And perhaps his mind. “What's in it?”

She shrugged. “I don't know.”

He nodded again. “Okay, let me have it tested.”

“Tested?” Without thinking, she reached out and took it from him, curling her fingers around the small jar.

“Yes. I'd like to have it tested. Let's find out what's really going on.” He looked at her searchingly.

“I don't know,” she said, tightening her hold on it. “I—I'm not sure I should do that.”

He was looking at her as though he couldn't believe her first instinct wasn't to give him anything he asked for. Didn't he understand the problems this raised for her? This was quite a dilemma. Her first allegiance was supposed to be to the clinic, wasn't it? And to the man who had given her a chance to prove her worth as a professional?

And yet, she knew Daniel was right. She finally had to admit it to herself. There
was
something going on. She'd felt a bit strange using the NoWait oil. Now that she looked back, she knew she hadn't been quite herself while she was taking it. And if there was anything strange, anything
that might harm people, she should be among the first to warn others.

No, her first allegiance was to the people she served. Right? And then to the clinic. And then to Daniel?

No, come to think of it, her first allegiance had to be to herself and her own integrity. Then to—

“Abby,” Daniel said firmly, breaking into her reverie. “Give me the oil.”

“No,” she said just as firmly, clutching it to her chest.

He looked exasperated. “What the hell? I can get it someplace else. I can buy it from the clinic. In fact…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a ten, slapping it down on the dresser. “Here. I'll buy it from you. It's already opened, so it can't be more than this.”

“No.” She was worried, but she was stubborn.

“What are you talking about? You sell it to other people. Why not to me?”

“You're not signing up for a complete program.”

“Oh, come on, Abby!”

“Really. I can't sell it to you because you want to use it in ways that I don't approve of. You want to use it to get Dr. Richie, don't you?”

He stared at her in disbelief, then sat down on the edge of the bed, swearing softly.

“I'm sorry.” She put the oil carefully in a drawer and came to sit beside him on the bed. “I'm really sorry, Daniel. I know this is a pain in the neck to you, but we both know you can get the oil somewhere else. I just can't be the one who gave it to you. Don't you see that?”

He looked down at her, his gaze hard, but he didn't say anything.

She threw up her hands. “Okay, that does it. I'm going to make sure you get an interview with Dr. Richie. I'm sure that will clear all this up. Once you've talked to him, you'll feel very differently about it all. He'll make you understand his mission and his commitment to making better lives for people.”

Daniel snorted at the concept, but didn't dispute it specifically. “That's exactly what I want—an interview with the man.”

“Okay,” she said, speaking with a confidence she wasn't sure she could back up. “You got it.”

When he didn't say anything, she put a hand on his arm.

“Tell me what you suspect,” she said softly. “Give it to me straight. I want to hear it all.”

 

Daniel stared at Abby a moment longer, then looked away.

“Okay, Abby, here's the deal. Something is making an awful lot of people act like lovesick fools. The evidence is everywhere.” He looked back at her. “Am I right?”

She nodded slowly. “I didn't believe it at first,” she said. “Even after our brunch in the cafeteria, I thought you were overstating it. But what you'd told me began to sink in and I started noticing things I'd ignored before. And I have to admit, love seems to be contagious at Portland General Hospital.”

“And you can see that every one of those who've caught the virus have ties to the clinic.”

She hesitated. “I don't know how you can say that with such certainty.”

“When in doubt, I tend to use my common sense. And it tells me the clinic is the common denominator.”

She couldn't help but react defensively to that. After all, her allegiances were at stake here. But
she stifled the emotional response and managed to stay calm.

“So you think it has to be something the clinic is doling out to its clients.”

He nodded. “Common sense.”

“And you've ruled out everything but the NoWait oil.”

He nodded again.

She drew in a deep breath and went on. “Which means you think I was infected.”

His eyes darkened. “I know you were.”

She stared at him, her heart beating a fast denial, but her head unable to agree. “How can you know that?”

“Abby, when we met, we struck sparks off each other. Then all of a sudden, you were all over me. It was classic.”

She closed her eyes, knowing her face was turning bright red. “Ohmigod.”

“You can't help it,” he said gruffly. “And I know enough not to take seriously anything you do or say about me.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in astonishment. “What?”

“Not that it hasn't been nice having you flirt
and all. I admit I've had my moments of wanting to respond. But all along I knew that deep down it was phony, just the virus talking, and I managed to—”

“Daniel O'Callahan!”

She was furious with him, appalled, and half laughing at the same time. Using both hands, she shoved him, hard. Caught off guard, he fell onto his back on the bed and stayed there.

“Hey!”

Moving with speed, she straddled him, her slinky gown hiked up to give her legs room.

“You're a fool,” she told him hotly, staring down at the man she was pretty sure she loved. “And I'm going to prove it to you.”

Her hands went resolutely to the buttons of his shirt and she began to undo them.

He tried halfheartedly to push her hands away. “Abby, what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she challenged him. “You just hush and do what you're told.”

“Abby.” His hands covered hers and he looked up at her, his eyes clouded. “Please, sweetheart, you don't know what you're doing.”

“Daniel, I know exactly what I'm doing.” She
glared down at him. “I stopped using the oil last week.”

His face registered surprise. “You did?”

She nodded, her gaze burning into his. “Yes. It has no effect on me now. None whatsoever.”

He looked confused. “But—”

She leaned down to kiss him, stopping his words, and then she didn't want to leave him.

“It's okay,” she whispered very near his ear as she rubbed her cheek against his. “I know what I'm doing. I know what I want to do. And I know how I feel about you.” She dropped a kiss at his temple. “No kidding.”

His hands caressed her, and still his face showed his reluctance. “But you know that we're still not right for each other,” he told her when she rose again.

She smiled at him, running her hands across his beautiful chest muscles.

“I beg to differ.” Leaning down again, she pressed her lips to his hot skin and his arms came around her, holding her to him.

“But we come from different walks of life,” he said, still protesting, if somewhat lamely.

“No, we don't.” She cast that argument aside like so much dirty laundry.

“Yes, we do. I'm used to living among lowlifes, and you're so…so…”

“So boring?” she asked, laughing.

“No, that's not what I mean.”

“Never mind what you mean. I just want to kiss you.”

“Abby.” He took her face between his hands and looked at her with longing barely leashed by his nagging reluctance. “I don't want you to get hurt. I really can't promise you anything.”

She looked down at him earnestly, putting all the affection she felt for him in her gaze. “I'm a big girl, Daniel. If I get wounded, I'll heal.”

“But—”

She shook her head, letting her hair swirl around them both. “Who cares!”

He started to say something, but suddenly he was laughing instead, pulling her down into his arms and holding her tightly.

“You're right,” he said, his lips against hers. “Who cares?”

Clothes came off more easily now, first his shirt, then her dress, then his slacks and her lacy
underthings. He'd been aching with the need for her for days and his body was ready much too quickly, throbbing with his desire.

He had to discipline his breathing to hold it back, had to kiss her mouth again and again to keep his from going places that would quickly rip away his mask of careful control and render him as frantic as a starved animal. Because most of all, more than his hunger, more than his deep, hot need, there was the longing to treat her the way she deserved to be treated, like a woman he could love.

He tasted her mouth, her earlobes, her nipples. She cried out at how that felt and rubbed her body against his, looking surprised at every sensation.

He knew she was pretty much an innocent. Not that she was clumsy about it. But everything seemed to be new to her, every touch, every exploration, the taste of his skin, the sight of his nude body, the overwhelming wave of desire that took her as he parted her legs and thrust his way inside her, the wild look in her eyes as she started up the spiral of the most intense sexual sensation.

And then he was lost. He'd held it back as long as he was able, and now he was all plundering
male taking possession of his female and staking a claim he would kill to maintain. He took her and all her beauty was his, all her sweetness, all her love. He held her, in his arms and in his heart and made her his own.

And when it was over, they lay tangled together, catching their breath, still luxuriating in the moment. He looked at her. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. That made him smile, too.

Lying back, he wondered what they'd done. Even if she was free of the effect of the oil, neither one of them was free of the fact that he was here under a false assumption. He was lying to her in a worse way than the oil had ever made her lie. And that was something they couldn't wish away.

“P
hoebe, you look so spry!”

Abby had come up to Phoebe's hospital room and found her just returning from a session of physical therapy. The older woman had color in her face she hadn't seen before, and an energy to her movements that was new.

Phoebe laughed in response. “Hand me down my dancin' shoes, I'm ready to launch back into life.” She lowered herself a bit carefully onto the bed and the physical therapist waved from the doorway, then disappeared.

“You're doing great,” Abby said with genuine admiration.

“I am, you know. I'm feeling fine, too.” She punched up her pillow and lay back against it. “If it hadn't been for all this dumb worrying about blood clots I would have been out of here days ago.”

“Has the doctor given you a date yet?”

Phoebe nodded. “Day after tomorrow, if all goes well.”

“Wonderful.” She hesitated, then went ahead and asked, “Will you be going back to your apartment?”

She knew Phoebe had her own apartment, but that she had once lived in the house with Daniel and his brothers when they were younger. And she wondered how much Daniel had told her about the place in the retirement home he'd reserved for her.

“Oh, Daniel wants me to come stay with him for a few days, and I suppose I might do that, as a transition back to my normal life,” she said happily. “I'll just be so happy to get out of this place and back in the swim, I'm ready to do anything that will help that happen.”

“Of course you are.”

Phoebe looked around the room as though surprised to realize they were alone. “Where is Daniel? Why didn't he come with you?”

The question wasn't as odd as it might seem, because Abby and Daniel had been together most of the last few days. Somehow their opera evening had opened the floodgates. Everyone was still smiling when they came down the hall, only now they were smiling with the indulgent smirks people got when witnessing a couple obviously smitten with each other.

Tonight Daniel was coming with her to a seminar she'd been promoting heavily all week. “Love is what you make of it” was the topic. Dr. Richie planned to corral all this blooming love he saw going on around him and talk about finding that perfect someone, choosing the right life partner, recognizing real love as opposed to instant lust. Abby was looking forward to seeing Daniel's reaction to the subject. And, truth to tell, she was wondering what her own would be.

Was she in love? All the signs pointed that way as far as she could tell. She'd never felt this way before. Never. And she was so happy, it was positively scary.

“I finally set up an interview for him with Dr. Richie,” she said. “He's there right now. I hope it's going well.”

“Of course it is. Daniel will do what's right.”

“I'm sure he will.” But Abby was frowning, and she had her fingers crossed.

“Well, this will give me a chance to talk to you about my cruise,” Phoebe said, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe you can help me with some of the planning.”

Abby bit her lip, wondering if she should get in the middle of this one. “Daniel is worried about you trying to take that cruise,” she said tentatively. “He can't go with you and he doesn't think you'll be safe.”

“I know.” She sighed. “He is such a dear boy, but he doesn't understand. I have to do this.”

She smiled at Abby and patted her hand. “You know, my husband Howard and I used to go up to Alaska on the
Northbound Queen
once a year. We had a trip planned when he passed away suddenly.”

She stopped for a moment, her gaze distant, as though recalling the horror of that day.

“I cancelled that one,” she said, going on. “But
I'd always planned to go again, just so that I could say a proper goodbye to the man who loved me so dearly all those years.”

She squeezed Abby's hand, conveying her emotion. “And now I'm pretty sure if I don't go, I won't have another chance.” Her voice was choked, but she went on. “And I must go. It feels sort of like Howard is out there, waiting for me. Can you understand that, Abby? I really have to go.”

Abby's eyes filled with tears and she nodded wordlessly. She understood, and she sympathized. Somehow she had to make sure that Phoebe got her chance to say good-bye to her Howard. But was there any way to make Daniel accept that?

 

Daniel stared across the desk at Dr. Richie and tried not to show his distaste for the man. There was something a little too slick about him, a little too soft, a little too evasive. He'd started out asking him questions about his childhood and schooling, but the doctor was talking in circles around every subject he brought up.

“Look,” Daniel said at last, impatiently. “I'm
sure I can get all your official background stuff from Abby. What I really want from you is the straight scoop on the NoWait oil.”

Whoa. That certainly brought on an undeniable reaction. If he didn't know better, he would have said the doctor was suddenly quivering with alarm.

“What are you talking about?” the man snapped, his gaze shifting to the door as though he wanted to keep an escape route handy.

Daniel's eyes narrowed. “I just want the usual product information. How did you develop it? Where did you get it? What's the formula? Where is it made?”

Dr. Richie bristled. “That is all privileged information. You can't have that.”

“Oh, yeah?” Daniel leaned forward. “Then how about this. Have you applied for a patent? Gotten approval from the FDA? What kind of credentials does your oil have?”

Dr. Richie looked like a cornered animal. “You have no right to ask these questions.”

“It seems to me these things should be public record.” Daniel's head went back. “But I'll have to check with City Hall on that.”

He realized suddenly that he was doing this questioning like a cop instead of the journalist he was supposed to be. He'd better cool it. This third-degree stuff was only likely to get the man to clam up. Maybe if he could get a little more touchy-feely… He gritted his teeth, but he tried it.

“Look, I know it must be hard for you. You carry the hopes and dreams of so many people on your shoulders. They come to you looking for a change in their lives and expect you to deliver. You're supposed to be the answer to their prayers. And then you developed this product that seems to be working for a lot of people. That must give you a lot of satisfaction.”

Dr. Richie's eyes were still clouded with suspicion. “It does indeed,” he said carefully. “I'm quite proud of the NoWait oil. I stand behind it, one hundred percent.”

“Have you ever used it yourself?”

The man frowned. “Look, I know you're supposed to be a friend of Abby's and I'm meeting with you on that understanding. Why am I getting the impression you're hostile to me and my work?”

“I'm not hostile.”

“You're coming across as hostile.”

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to be.” He gave a crooked grin, forced but amiable enough. “It's just my manner. I can't help it, really. Maybe it's my unhappy childhood.”

Dr. Richie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No doubt. I'm sorry to hear that you've had trouble in your past. Perhaps that might make you more tolerant of others.”

The touchy-feely method worked its magic. The doctor didn't really like him any better, but he did launch into a long explanation of his past and how he'd developed into a world-famous TV personality. The problem was, the more he talked, the less Daniel felt he knew. The man went round and round in circles, using a lot of words and saying virtually nothing of substance. Daniel's eyes were beginning to glaze over. All he was getting was useless fluff, so he was actually relieved when the doctor tired of it all.

“Look, can we begin wrapping this up?” Dr. Strong said. “I've got another appointment soon.”

“Sure. But first, one more question about your background info. I checked out the places you list
as your home ten to twenty years ago, before you became a media star, and there doesn't seem to be any record of a Richie Strong in any of those places.”

The man was actually starting to sweat. “I—I changed my name once I knew I was going into public life. My original name was long and hard to pronounce.”

“I see. Exactly what was that name?”

“I don't think you need to know that.”

“If I don't know that, how can I check your previous employment and addresses?”

“You don't need to check those things. If you don't believe me, go write about someone else.” He stood, calling an end to the interview. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some real work to do.” Turning on his heel, he was out the door.

 

Daniel didn't spend much time mulling over his meeting with Dr. Richie. He had other things to think about that afternoon—such as a meeting with the lawyer who'd been assigned to handle his case in the department hearing. He had a date now, and the lawyer seemed to think he had a good defense, but you never knew what might
happen in these things. Political pressure counted for more than truth at times.

It was almost evening as he made his way to Abby's apartment, and his cell phone rang as he pulled into the parking place.

“Yeah?” he said into the phone.

“Jimmy here. How ya doin'?”

“Great. Wonderful. The world is my oyster. How about you?”

“Not so good. I took in that NoWait oil to the lab for testing like you asked me. But there seems to be a problem.”

“Problem?”

He'd gone to the clinic and easily purchased his own little jar of the stuff after Abby stubbornly refused to let him use hers. Funny girl, that Abby. She had principles and standards and a fine sense of morality. He wasn't used to seeing that in most of the people he dealt with. He had to admit it was going to take some getting used to. It also meant extra work at times. But maybe it was worth it. Time would tell, he supposed. One thing it meant—he knew he could count on her to do what was right. And that wasn't always comfortable.

At any rate, he'd taken the jar of oil he'd pur
chased right over to Jimmy and he'd expected to get a detailed report by now.

“What sort of problem?”

“Okay, here's the dope. The techie thinks there's something funny about the stuff but he can't quite pin it down. It needs analysis he can't do, so he's sending it over to the university. They've got a state-of-the-art lab over there and he thinks they might be able to get to the bottom of it. The only drawback is it will take a week or so to get the results.”

“Oh, man.”

“Yeah. I know you wanted something quicker than that. But it can't be helped.”

“I guess not. Thanks, Jimmy. Let me know when you hear something.”

“Will do.”

Daniel put away the phone and sat for a moment, staring into space. He had a feeling this was going to be it. NoWait oil was going to be the culprit. Funny. Instead of triumph, he felt a sort of sad resignation. Maybe it was because he had that damn hearing on his mind. When you came right down to it, the hearing was going to impact his life a lot more than the verdict on NoWait oil.

Then he thought of Abby and his spirits rose. Leaving the car, he strode quickly to her door. She opened it before he'd finished knocking and she was in his arms before he had time to take another breath.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, holding her close and burying his face in her hair as they awkwardly made their way into the living room, clinging together like Velcro.

“And you feel so good,” she countered. She pulled back and looked into his face. “How did the meeting go?”

“The meeting?” For just a moment he thought she meant with the lawyer, but then he remembered that she didn't know about that. “Oh, with Dr. Richie?”

She nodded, searching his face for clues.

“It went okay, I guess.”

She waited a moment, then went on impatiently. “So how do you feel about…things?”

He released her and slumped onto the couch, grimacing. “Feelings are not what we're going for here. We need to use the old brain. Thinking. Facts.”

“Sorry.” She made a face at him and sat on the
arm of the chair. “Well, then, what are you
thinking
?”

He shook his head and looked up at her almost apologetically. “I'm thinking the guy is as phony as a three-dollar bill.”

“Oh, Daniel.” She winced. “Did you give him a chance?”

“Yes, I gave him a chance. And he gave me nothing but lies and evasions. The guy is not a straight shooter from what I could determine.”

Abby bit her lip and looked away, obviously in a certain sort of anguish over this. “I wanted to believe in him,” she said softly.

“I know you did, honey.” Reaching out, he pulled her onto his lap. “I'm sorry.” He kissed her softly, then smiled into her sad face. “Forget about that for now.”

She nodded. “I've got to start getting ready for tonight's seminar,” she reminded him. “It's a special one. You're coming, aren't you?”

“Sure.” He nuzzled her neck and sighed. “But you know what? I'm hungry as all get out.”

“I could whip you up an omelet, but it will have to be a quickie. I've got to be at the seminar by…”

“Hmm.” He touched the tip of her earlobe with his tongue, making her squirm. “That's not what I'm hungry for.”

“Ah.”

She laughed softly, looked at the clock and sighed as she turned in his arms. His mouth was on hers and she opened to his kiss, opening her heart at the same time. His hands slid up under her shirt, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples, making her cry out as quick desire shot through her.

“Oh, Daniel! Not in front of Ming.”

He lifted from her and stared groggily at the cat.

“Ming,” he commanded, “get thee to a cattery.”