Secret Agent Affair

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Secret Agent Affair Page 8

by Marie Ferrarella


  Slim shoulders beneath the tailored white sheath rose and fell. “Well, since you’re not coming, plans can be changed.”

  She would have been lying if she said she wasn’t just the tiniest bit envious of her sister. Of all of them, really. Damn, what had gotten into her tonight? Was this some kind of fall-out from what had happened in the supply closet—and Kane’s subsequent rejection? She wasn’t normally given to feeling sorry for herself.

  “Enjoy,” Marja told her. “Remember, they say men are the nicest before they say ‘I do.’ After that, it’s all downhill.”

  Tania opened the front door. “Not according to our sisters and parents.” She looked at her for a long moment. “What makes you suddenly such an expert? Something going on I don’t know about?”

  “Not a thing.” Marja shook her head. “Just a matter of those that can, do. Those that can’t, teach,” were her parting words to Tania before she closed the apartment door.

  The silence that ensued was all but deafening. With a sigh, she walked away from the door. Carelessly, she glanced at her watch. She’d called in her order to the pizza parlor on the next block about twenty minutes ago. The delivery boy should be arriving soon.

  Taking her wallet out of her purse, she pulled out a twenty. The price of a small pizza and a large tip. Maybe once she finished the pizza, she’d take a ride to Queens and visit her parents, she decided. There were times when she loved having the apartment all to herself, but tonight, for some reason, she really wasn’t in the mood to do anything but veg out in front of the television set. Besides, she hadn’t seen her parents for about a couple of weeks.

  She usually didn’t let that much time go by without seeing at least one of them, not even when she was in medical school and her life had played like a tape in fast-forward mode. These days, her mother was extremely busy, getting everything prepared for the grand opening of her new restaurant. Otherwise, she knew that the woman would have been on the phone several times a day, asking her when she was going to finally come over for a visit.

  That was the reason they had all conspired in the beginning to get her mother involved in running a restaurant. That, and her extraordinary skill in the kitchen. But Magda’d been a fantastic cook all her life. What had prompted this push had been Sasha and her pregnancy. They all wanted Sasha to reach term without losing her mind, and Mama had a way of overcaring, for lack of a better word.

  Mama, God bless her, had a heart as big as all outdoors, but she also had a tendency to try to live all their lives for them. Because, after all, Mama knew best, Marja thought with a fond smile.

  So did her dad, but at least he could be kept in line—except where their safety was involved. Then he became Officer Pulaski, who had seen too much on the mean streets and was determined that none of it would ever touch his beloved family. That meant lectures and warnings. Growing up, she would sometimes count the months until she could move out.

  Now that she had, she looked forward to going back. Because she missed them. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder. Once wanting nothing more than to leave the proverbial nest, now she “flew” back whenever she had the time.

  Yup, she decided, that was what she was going to do: first have some pizza and then go visit her parents. She knew that Tania had left the car parked in its designated spot in the parking garage because Jesse was picking her up tonight, so she wasn’t going to need to bother with public transportation. And since she was having pizza, she could tell her mother that she’d already eaten. That way maybe her mother wasn’t going to force feed her a seven-course meal.

  She smiled to herself. If Mama had her way, all five of them would have grown up round as bowling balls and rolled from place to place.

  Marja glanced down at what she was wearing. She would have to change and put on something that was going to afford her a little more fabric. Right now, she was wearing ragged cut-off shorts that barely whispered along the tops of her thighs and the T-shirt she had on was actually more of a belly shirt. She could just hear her father. “Just because you are having a beautiful body from God does not mean that you must be showing everyone that body.”

  She supposed he had a point. She was dressed like this for comfort and because the air conditioner had already cut out twice in the last week. Brown-outs were not uncommon in the summer, and outside the weather was sweltering despite the hour. Even rain brought little relief from the oppressive humidity.

  She’d throw on a sundress to appease everyone. Preferably her backless sundress.

  Marja was halfway to her room when she thought she heard the doorbell.

  That had to be the delivery guy.

  “About time,” she murmured. Five more minutes and the pizza was advertised to be free. Not that she would have the heart to do that to the delivery boy. She was fairly certain the money to cover the late pizza would have to come out of his pocket.

  Grabbing the money she’d laid out on the counter, Marja hurried back to the door.

  “I was beginning to give up on you,” she declared as she pulled the door open.

  “You knew I was coming?”

  Her mouth dropped open as she found herself looking up not at the face of an adolescent who was woefully in the throes of an embarrassing skin condition but at the rugged planes and carved cheekbones of the man who had all but set the supply closet on fire early this afternoon.

  Kane.

  Chapter 8

  Marja stared at him, wondering for a moment if she was hallucinating. She then noticed that he held two pizza boxes, one small and one large.

  She took a step back and opened the door wider, her invitation clear.

  “Where’s Mama Bear?” she asked him as she closed the door again, flipping the top lock into place. She left the chain off, hanging dormant.

  Puzzled, Kane turned around. “Come again?”

  Marja nodded at the two pizza boxes. “Well, you have the Baby Bear and the Papa Bear, I was just wondering where Mama Bear was.” She moved closer. “I was also wondering what you were doing with two pizzas.”

  “I brought the big one because you said you wanted to have pizza,” he reminded her. “The delivery kid at your door had this one, which I figured you had to have ordered, so I paid him for it.”

  Belatedly she remembered her money and thrust it out to him. “Then I owe you this.”

  He regarded the outstretched hand with a glare of annoyance, as if she was offering him wet dirt. “Did I ask you for any money?”

  Flowers probably withered beneath that look, she thought. “No.”

  “Then I don’t want any money.” He glanced down at the boxes. The heat from the larger of the two was spreading. “Is there somewhere I can put this down? The box is hot.” And that wasn’t the only thing, he added silently, his eyes skimming over the skimpy outfit she had on. Right now, the woman resembled more a cheerleader than a physician.

  “Right there’ll be fine.” Moving out of his way again, she indicated the coffee table. The next moment, he was depositing the two pizza boxes onto it. “Thank you.”

  He grunted something that sounded vaguely like, “You’re welcome,” then said more clearly, “Don’t you know any better than to just open the door like that? This is New York City, not Sleepy Hollow.”

  She shoved the twenty into the front pocket of her cutoffs and went to the kitchen. “Now you’re channeling my father,” she told him, raising her voice so that he could hear her. “Besides, how do you know I didn’t look through the peephole?”

  He turned toward the doorway that led into the kitchen. “You didn’t,” he informed her in no uncertain terms. “I didn’t hear it move,” he added in case she wanted to argue the point. “I could have been a robber or a rapist.”

  “But you’re not either one,” she answered cheerfully. He heard a drawer opening and closing again.

  “And anyway, I was expecting the pizza delivery kid.” Walking back in from the kitchen, her hands filled with two cans of soft drink
s, paper plates, napkins and a knife and fork, she smiled up at him. “And besides, I could smell the pizza through the door.”

  His eyes narrowed. Now she was just making things up. “Not possible.”

  Hers was the face of innocence as she replied, “If you say so. By the way—” she placed the plates on the coffee table, with a napkin beside each one “—did ‘busy’ go away?” When he seemed confused, Marja elaborated. “You said you couldn’t come over because you were busy.”

  Sitting down, he shrugged. “Yeah, well, it turned out that I wasn’t so busy, after all.”

  His cell phone had been silent all evening. His brain had not. It kept reviving images of her, the sound of her voice, the way she’d looked at him when she was cleaning his wound. The way she’d taken charge in the E.R. time and again.

  And the way she’d felt against him in the supply closet.

  There was no way around it, he’d decided as he left the motel room an hour later. If he was going to be fully focused on his job, he needed to get something out of his blood first.

  Her.

  Sitting down on the sofa, Marja opened first one box, then another. The tantalizing scent of pizza instantly escaped, filling the immediate area and leaving no salivary gland unaffected.

  “What’s the knife and fork for?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the sofa, like a man ready to spring up at a moment’s notice. Seeing him sit that way, she couldn’t help wondering if he really did have somewhere else to be.

  “For you if you want them,” she answered. It only caused the furrow between his eyes to deepen. “Some people eat pizza more neatly than I do.”

  So saying, she leaned over and separated a piece from the large one he’d brought. She couldn’t help the soft laugh that rose to her lips.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  Marja nodded at the pizza. It was completely smothered in several kinds of meats and almost an equal amount of cheeses. “This looks like a heart attack waiting to happen. They must have five pounds of different meats and cheeses on it.”

  “I didn’t know what you liked,” he mumbled into his navy-blue T-shirt.

  “So you got everything.” That was better than being cheap, she thought.

  Kane nodded. “Pretty much.” He helped himself to a healthy slice, sliding it onto his plate. A drop of sauce fell on the table and he wiped it away with the side of his thumb. “I figured it would be easier to take off than do without.”

  A grin spread out over her generous mouth. “A philosopher in orderly scrubs. I like that.” She took a breath, diving into the pizza again. It tasted heavenly. “And I like this,” she told him with relish. She saw the uneasy look in his eyes. Was he afraid she was going to be critical of his choice? No, afraid was the wrong word. Guys like Kane Dolan were never afraid. They provoked fear, didn’t experience it.

  She took another bite before continuing. “You only go around once, right?”

  He saw a flaw in her reasoning. Or maybe he just liked to challenge her. “Then why did you order a pizza with just cheese and pepperoni?”

  Her look was almost sheepish. “I was trying to be good,” she confessed.

  Again his eyes swept over her. Sitting down, the cutoffs were even shorter, barely covering her. “If you’re trying to be good, maybe you should put on your own shorts instead of your little sister’s.”

  “I don’t have a little sister.” She paused to lick the side of her index finger. She saw something akin to desire flare in his eyes. “In this family, I am the little sister. And you are definitely channeling my father.” She sat up a little straighter, unconsciously thrusting out her chest. “Do you really want me to go and change?”

  He really wanted her to shed the little she had on. But he did his best to maintain his careless facade and shrugged. “You can do whatever you like.”

  Her eyes smiled first, filtering it down to her lips. “I usually do,” she told him. And then her eyes fluttered shut for a second as she savored another bite. “God, but this is good.” Opening her eyes again, she tilted the lid on the larger box toward her and looked at the logo on the large box. “Gino’s,” she read. “I don’t know that one,” she told him, dropping the lid again.

  “It’s located around the corner from where I’m staying.”

  “‘Staying’?” she repeated. “Not living?” The phraseology was telling.

  Kane tried to underplay the answer to her question. He’d made a slip. Not an important one, but he didn’t like that it had happened. “Trying to find someplace that fits,” he told her carelessly. “Besides—” his eyes met hers “—apartments in Manhattan are expensive.”

  His words were met with a short laugh. “Tell me about it.” She reached for a napkin, wiping the corner of her mouth. “Once Tania moves out, I’m not sure if I can afford to live here by myself.”

  He lowered his slice. “But you’re a doctor,” he pointed out.

  “Last-year resident,” she corrected. It would be a while before she had any practice to speak of. “The salary isn’t exactly a king’s ransom.”

  So, it wasn’t as if she was going to barely be making ends meet her whole life. He knew the kind of money doctors made.

  “That comes later,” he told her.

  She wasn’t all that sure. “These days, it’s the specialists who are at the top of our food chain and do well.”

  He already knew what each of her sister’s specialized in. All that was part of the background check he’d performed on her. But when it came to Marja’s field, he’d come up empty. “What specialty are you picking?”

  “People,” she answered glibly after a beat.

  He took that for sarcasm. It surprised him. “Aren’t people involved no matter what field you pick?”

  “Yes, but a little more so for me.” He looked cute when he was confused, she thought. And sexy, always sexy. “I’m going to be a family practitioner—an old-fashioned GP or country doctor, so to speak—sans the country, of course.” Unless she set up practice in the middle of Central Park, she added silently. “I want to be the first one they come to, the one who treats their small problems and tries to help them handle the larger ones.”

  He took it in without showing any reaction. “Sounds demanding.”

  She thought of the cases that came flowing through the E.R. That was going to be what she would be up against for the next thirty-five, forty years. “It can be,” she agreed.

  “And not all that rewarding,” he guessed.

  “Not financially,” she said. “But there are other reasons to become a doctor.”

  “I figured these days, everyone’s in it for the money,” he said. And that didn’t just include doctors. Money made the world go ’round, whether he liked it or not.

  She merely shook her head. He was obviously around the wrong people. “I need to introduce you to my sisters.”

  His mouth curved, but there was no humor. “The specialists.”

  When it came to family, she found herself on the defensive. “They’re not in it for the money,” she insisted. “Each one of them has a passion for the field she is in. Their focus is on helping patients, not growing rich on them.”

  Finished with her slice, Marja reached over for another one. The box was closer to his side of the coffee table and as she reached out, her arm brushed against his leg. She tried not to show it, but a ripple of electricity shot through her at the minor contact.

  Just like a teenager in high school, she upbraided herself, annoyed with her juvenile reaction.

  Watching her reach, Kane became aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that abbreviated T-shirt. As she leaned forward, she’d afforded him a quick glance at her breasts, which in turn caused every fiber in his stomach to tighten. Hard.

  There was just so much a man could endure before cracking.

  “Maybe you’d better go and change,” he told her stonily.

  About to take a bite, she stopped and raised her eyes to his. “W
hy?”

  Because I’m going to jump you in ten seconds if you don’t. “Because I can only be a gentleman for so long and no longer.” His eyes raked over her body. “And, Doc, you’re pushing the envelope.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as excitement and anticipation rushed through her, pulsating. She was hardly aware of placing her slice back onto the paper plate. Her appetite had nothing to do with melted cheese and tangy tomato sauce. She had to wet her lips before answering. They’d gone desert-dry. “What makes you think I don’t want that envelope delivered?”

  “Careful what you wish for.” Even as he said the words, Kane could feel his last barrier of restraint disappear.

  “Or?” Her voice was low, seductive, gliding along his skin. Her eyes never left his, her very breath stopped moving.

  Damn it, woman, I’m hanging by a thread here. “Or you might get more than you bargained for.”

  She raised her chin, her heart slamming so hard she thought it would break through her rib cage. “I love bargains,” she whispered.

  He should have never come.

  He should be leaving. Getting up and walking straight to the door without another word. Without another glance.

  It wasn’t happening.

  His knees had liquefied. He felt more powerless than the time he’d been beaten to almost a pulp in that tiny Bolivian airport. The urgent signals he sent to his body were being ignored. Instead, he could only concentrate on the magnetic pull of the extremely attractive woman to his right.

  And then, something just gave way.

  Kane slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her to him, his mouth sealing itself over hers.

  The combustion was instant.

  The preview he’d gotten in the supply closet was nothing compared to what he felt, what he tasted, what he experienced now.

  Leaning back, he pulled her with him, making Marja the one to land on top. This way, he wasn’t pinning her down. And, if sudden panic set in for her, she could pull back. He wouldn’t try to stop her, despite the fact that he couldn’t recall ever wanting anyone nearly as much as he wanted her.

 

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