Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection
Page 47
Mara scoffed and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door.
His erection disappeared as a familiar stress built in his shoulders.
Something was going on, he could sense it. For weeks she had been acting strangely, not being where she said she would be.
He had not resorted to having her followed yet, but he was getting very close to that place.
“Come on, babe,” he yelled out to her. “Let me see it again.”
“Why? So you can insult me again?”
She’s picking a fight. That’s another thing she’s been doing lately. Something is up with her. I can smell it.
Luca slipped from the bed naked and sauntered toward the bathroom door, his hand on the knob. It was locked.
“Open the door, Mara,” he growled, his amusement becoming anger.
“No!” she snapped. “Leave me alone!”
He pounded on the door.
“Mara, open the goddamn door,” he snarled. “Or I’m going to bust it down.”
“Screw off, Luca,” she retorted.
The words sent a spark of rage through him and before he could stop himself, his foot lashed out, splintering the frame of the door.
Mara choked and gasped, her cell phone falling from her hand as she jumped up from the toilet seat cover.
“Luca!” she screamed.
“Who are you talking to?”
“No one!” she panted, reaching for the phone, but Luca kicked it out of her reach, snapping it up before she could touch it.
A red film covered his eyes as he grabbed for the fallen device, reading the texts on the screen.
As if in slow motion, he lifted his head and stared at her, his breath catching in his chest.
“What is this?”
Her lips parted but no words came out…
The alarm chimed in his ear, causing him to start.
Luca lifted his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.
He snatched the cell and turned off the incessant dinging, dropping his head back to the pillow, his breathing jagged.
Goddamn it, Mara, he thought, his head beginning to pound.
He rose, his head throbbing now as he thought about what the day held in store for him.
A part of him just wanted to crawl back into bed and turn off his phone but that wasn’t an option.
He was a caporegime.
Dad would be so proud, he thought bitterly, making his way to the bathroom.
It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning and he was already miserable. He didn’t have high hopes for the day.
Sticking a toothbrush in his mouth, he studied his face dispassionately.
Mara’s face turned opaque with fear, her arms raised as he approached, hurling the cell at the wall over the toilet.
“Luca, please!” she squealed. “Please calm down!”
“Calm down?” he echoed. “Calm down? What the hell is this? You’ve been lying to me, to everyone!”
“I can explain!”
“There is no explanation for this,” he breathed.
Slowly, he turned to look at himself in the mirror but he didn’t recognize the face staring back at him.
His eyes bulged from their sockets, his dark waves an unkempt mess around his livid face.
In that moment, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of.
Luca shuddered and wrenched his gaze from his reflection, half spitting and half gagging into the sink.
Damn you, Mara. Stop haunting me! It’s been three goddamn years.
But as he rinsed out his mouth, trying to get his head on straight, he knew what had happened to Mara would stay with him forever.
The image of her cowering in the bathroom was alive and well in his head.
Because it was not a nightmare; it was a memory.
Chapter Six
Who to Trust
“Detective, I have to tell him you’re—” the receptionist tried to say, but Angela was already ignoring her. Without permitting the desk manager to finish her sentence, she stormed into Agent Duggan’s office.
The huge, bird-like man was on the phone, his eyes widening in disbelief when he saw her.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, dropping the receiver into the cradle. “Angela, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
The innocence in his questions only infuriated her more.
“Really?” she snapped angrily. “Really, you’re asking me what I’m doing here? Really?”
His brow furrowed and he sat back in his chair, making a steeple out of his hands.
“Angela, I know you’re new to undercover work, but there is protocol, one I thought we had gone through. It’s dangerous for you to come here like this.”
“There is also supposed to be a level of protection. I seem to remember covering that too,” she snapped. “What the hell happened last night?”
Duggan shifted his eyes away and Angela felt a frisson of shock course through her body.
He knows what I’m talking about too! They were listening and they didn’t intervene!
Her gut swam with bile, knowing that they would have allowed her to be assaulted without lifting a finger to do anything.
“You were okay,” he said. “We had eyes on you. You should have called me when you got in.”
“I couldn’t call you!” she yelled. “Luca Gallo popped by to see how I was doing.”
“What?”
The news seemed to genuinely surprise him.
“Well, when my team failed me, Luca stopped August DiFranco from doing God knows what. So, thanks for that.”
Duggan leaned forward with interest, his eyes shining.
“He came by your apartment? When? What did he say?”
“You didn’t pick any of that up on the wires?”
It was Angela’s turn to be confused.
Were they even listening or watching? What kind of half-assed operation did I walk into here?
“Never mind,” she sighed, whirling around. “In the future, I expect a little reinforcement if I’m getting attacked.”
“We wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” he insisted, but Angela was not sure she believed him. “But sometimes we just have to let things play out to keep the integrity of the operation.”
Angela whirled back around, gaping at him in shock.
“What the hell does that mean?” she yelled. “Me getting attacked is all part of the plan? It’s for the greater good?”
“Of course not!” Duggan gasped but Angela could detect a note of dishonesty in his tone.
“Christ, this is messed up,” Angela swore. “No wonder Val got killed. You guys don’t know your asses from your elbows. And you think the police are incompetent. I have never seen a shitshow like this one.”
“Hey!” Duggan snapped. “Whatever happened to your cousin had nothing to do with us.”
“Yeah, well, sorry if I don’t believe you. Have you considered that August DiFranco had anything to do with her disappearance? Maybe she was one of his victims. He’s been at this game for years.”
“August didn’t join Luca’s crew until the following year,” Duggan sighed. “He wasn’t even in Miami at the time.”
Why am I having a hard time believing anything that’s coming out of your mouth right now?
Angela grunted in frustration and threw open the door to the office.
“Angela!”
“What?”
“Don’t come here again. You’re endangering yourself,” Duggan warned.
She snickered.
“All of a sudden you’re worried about my safety?” she spat. “Thanks for the tip.”
She was gone before Duggan could respond, making her way out of the FBI office with even more irritation than when she’d come. She didn’t bother with the elevators; the pent-up anxiety in her blood needed to be expelled and she reasoned that exercise was one way to burn it off.
All night she had paced around the apartment, debating what to do.
>
She half-expected Luca to return or for an agent to knock on her door and take her to safety.
Grabbing the burner phone connecting her to Duggan, she thought about calling him, but she couldn’t understand why no one had reached out to her.
A sea of confusion washed through her until the early light of dawn made one thing perfectly clear: the only person who had shown her an iota of concern was the man she feared was responsible for her cousin’s disappearance.
Her consternation was replaced by a burning anger toward the FBI and by the time the sun had fully risen, Angela had stormed into Duggan’s office.
Now I’m even more messed up than before, she thought. How come they didn’t know that Luca Gallo had come to my apartment last night? I thought the place was wired. I thought I was wired. He seemed to know about what happened at La Perla but not afterward?
It could only mean one of two things: either no one had been watching her the previous night or she was not as wired as she thought.
That’s ridiculous. What possible benefit could there be for throwing me in blind? It doesn’t help them in the least.
She was getting a headache thinking about any of it.
I need to go home and get some sleep. When I get up, I’ll figure out a new plan of attack since hanging out at La Perla didn’t work.
Hailing a cab down the street from the FBI building, she weighed her options.
As far as she could tell, there was only one thing to do: have a nap, take a shower, and call Luca Gallo.
~ ~ ~
Of course, she couldn’t sleep when she returned to her apartment and she stalked about the small unit, toying with the business card Luca had given her.
I have to come up with a good story for calling. I can’t just play damsel in distress… can I?
Angela wondered why not.
True, it was a foreign concept to her, but it might work in this case. Luca had already saved her once and it would give her the upper hand if he thought her weak.
But there was something in his eyes which told her he didn’t respond well to vapid, ditzy women.
And you don’t want to give him the impression that you’re hitting on him.
She wasn’t naïve. She knew that there were going to be parts of the job which would push her limits in various directions, but she didn’t want to encourage anything if she could avoid it.
Imagine sleeping with my cousin’s killer.
Angela tried to muster a shiver of revulsion at the thought but oddly, it did not come.
Instead, she thought of what his piercing green eyes would feel like, boring into hers as he mounted her.
What the hell is wrong with you? she yelled at herself. He’s handsome but he’s not that handsome!
She wondered why she was lying to herself. The burning attraction she felt toward him was unmistakable and accompanied by an equal amount of red-hot shame.
If he was not the target of her investigation, she would be throwing her panties at him, guaranteed, and the idea worried her.
Jesus Christ, Ang, keep your shit together. Find a booty call if you must, but stay away from Luca Gallo like that. You have no idea what he’s capable of.
But no amount of logic could dispute that she believed he was incapable of what Duggan accused him.
And you know this from the entire three minutes you’ve spent with him? a caustic voice in her head asked. You’re here to do your job and get justice for your cousin. Now do it!
She wracked her brain for a story and cover to give him a call.
No sobbing, fall-to-pieces crap. You need something better, something—
Suddenly, she had it.
Without hesitation, she picked up the phone and dialed.
To both her relief and chagrin, the call went directly to voicemail.
“Leave a message.” The outgoing message was blunt and to the point, but the sound of his voice sent chills through her.
It’s the Florence Nightingale effect. He saved you and now you think you owe him something. But you don’t. He owes you something—your cousin.
Angela cleared her throat nervously.
“Uh… hi, Mr. Gallo,” she breathed, trying to still her shaky breaths. “This is Teresa Milano. You—I—we met last night… you… well, I’m the girl from La Perla. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor. I—well, it’s…”
She abruptly stopped talking, wondering if she was playing a part or actually acting like a jackass.
No, I am sincerely being an idiot. Spit out what you’re trying to say.
Inhaling quickly, she finished the rest of the message in a rush of breath.
“If you could call me back, I would appreciate it.”
She left the number to her undercover phone and hung up, tossing the cell aside as if it was contaminated.
Pathetic. You’d better up your game when he calls back. If he calls back.
But she knew he would.
After all, he had gone out of his way to find her and leave his card.
Maybe he was worried she would go to the cops.
The irony made her laugh aloud.
There really never is a cop around when you need one, is there?
Angela knew there was nothing left to do but wait, so she settled onto the sofa, grabbing the remote control to flick on the small flat-screen mounted on the wall.
No sooner had she settled on a channel than the phone rang, causing her to jump.
He’s calling. Christ. He’s calling back.
Gulping back the stone in her throat, she accepted the call.
“Hello?”
Her voice escaped in a shadowy whisper.
“Teresa?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Luca Gallo. You left me a voicemail. Is everything okay?”
Okay, she told herself. You’re on.
“Oh, hi,” she said quickly. “Yes. Thanks for getting back to me.”
There was an awkward pause as she tried to remember what she was going to say to lure him back again. Suddenly, her mind was oddly blank.
“Are you okay?” he asked again and there was an unmistakable note of concern in his voice. “Do you need something?”
“I feel stupid calling you…”
“Don’t. That’s why I left you my card, remember?”
“It’s just… I realized after everything that happened last night that… that I didn’t pay my tab at the bar and I don’t really want to go back there alone. I don’t know anyone in Miami or I would call them to go with me, but…”
Another long silence ensued.
“Are you kidding me right now?” he growled. Angela tensed at the dubious question.
This was a bad idea. He can see right through me. I should have thought of something better. I should have—
“You’re worried about your bar tab?” he demanded.
“I had a few drinks,” she insisted. “The bartender shouldn’t have to cover my bill. I know how it works—management will take it out of Tanya’s check. I’ll pay it, happily, I just don’t want to go by myself.”
“Screw your bar tab,” Luca growled. “The owner can afford to eat it.”
“I’d rather—”
“No.”
There was a finality in his voice and Angela exhaled slowly.
Well, so much for getting him back here to take me. Now I have to think of something else.
“And don’t worry,” Luca added. “Tanya isn’t paying a dime either. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Okay,” Angela mumbled. “If you’re sure…”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Me?” Angela choked. “Uh, nothing.”
“Good. I’ll be there in half an hour. I’ll take you for dinner.”
The statement caused her jaw to drop open and she was glad he couldn’t see her shocked expression.
“Dinner?”
“It’s the meal following lunch.”
“Don’t worry. We’re not going to La Perla. Wear something nice.”
The line went dead and Angela stared at the phone in her hand for a long moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Well, that didn’t go as planned, she thought apprehensively. Now I have a date with a potential murderer.
But as she ambled to her feet, Angela could not deny the spark of excitement she was feeling about seeing Luca Gallo again.
I can’t reconcile that the man who burst into La Perla last night is capable of harming any woman. He didn’t have to save me. There was no reason for him to do that.
Angela was sure she had never been more confused in her life than she had been in the past twenty-four hours.
She had expected some level of clarity when she entered the realm of undercover work, but she was finding the reality much more complicated.
Examining Teresa’s wardrobe in the bedroom closet, she suddenly remembered something.
Is this place wired or not?
She hurried back into the living room and stepped onto the arm of the sofa, reaching to pull out the smoke detector.
There was no indication of a camera there, nor was there one in the cable box.
She scoured through the unit, checking under lampshades and couches, looking in every corner she could find for any piece of surveillance equipment, but with each cupboard she opened, her heart filled with more dread.
Where else could they have hidden mics and cams?
She had no answer.
Slowly, Angela retreated to the bedroom to select an outfit for her date, a sick feeling of understanding washing through her.
At that point, she trusted Luca Gallo more than she did the FBI.
Chapter Seven
Date with a Killer
She’s beautiful and so vulnerable. What am I doing here with her? Am I out of my mind?
Luca was sure he was.
He had blown off a meeting with his soldiers that evening, a much-needed regrouping after what had happened with August, but somehow that didn’t faze him in the least.
But when Teresa had called, the plaintive note in her voice was enough to make him drop everything and run to her.
I used to want to do that for Mara too, he thought with some acidity. He wished Mara wouldn’t keep popping into his head so often.