by LENA DIAZ,
“Won’t he smell a trap?” Nick asked.
“Possibly. I didn’t say the plan was perfect, just that I don’t have a better one.”
“I don’t think he’ll show,” Nick insisted.
“You may be right,” Dante said, his tone matter-of-fact as if that didn’t really matter. “I’d give it fifty-fifty odds. But even if he doesn’t show, having Miss Bannon pretend to be Lily will stir things up. That might increase the activity in the compound where Gonzalez is holding the real Lily. If Gonzalez thinks the DEA is going all out to trap him and find Lily, he may have his security doubled or tripled where he’s holding her.” He gestured toward the screen on the far wall. “We’ve got eyes on all of his major holdings. If he starts making changes, we’ll know about it. Once we know where she’s being held, we can do everything the old-fashioned way, get down to basics and perform twenty-four-hour surveillance until he makes a mistake. Then we’ll get that warrant and go in.”
Nick stared down at the floor for a moment. Heather watched him carefully. She trusted his judgment. She wanted to save her sister, and she believed Nick was her best chance. If he didn’t want her to go along with Dante’s plan, she wouldn’t. She’d learned her lesson. But if he did agree to the plan, she’d do whatever it took to help.
Nick looked up and met her gaze. “Do you want to do this?” he asked quietly.
“I want to save my sister. If you think this is our best shot, then yes, I want to do it. It’s your decision.”
His brows rose in surprise. He stared at her for a full minute before blowing out a breath and sitting back. “All right, Dante. Reinstate me and put me in charge. I plan every single detail down to which men come along, where they sit, even what weapons they have. The second I feel antsy, I pull Heather out. You either agree to my terms, or we’re leaving.”
Heather couldn’t help but smile. Nick was all about conditions, and he was reciting condition number two to Dante.
Dante slapped his hands on his thighs and grinned. “Agreed.” He stood and held his hand out to Nick.
Nick rolled his eyes and stood to shake his hand. “You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”
“You bet. Waverly’s loss is my gain. Welcome to my team. When do you want the operation to take place?”
Nick looked at his watch. “Might as well do it tonight. We’ll plan everything out right now. Then you can work on putting all the pieces in place while I take Heather back to Saint Augustine for a couple of hours.”
Heather frowned. “Why would we go back home?”
“Because if you’re going to pretend to be your sister, you’ve got to look like her. That means finding the perfect clothes, which my sister-in-law can help with. But more importantly, it means going where I have a special contact with very special skills.”
Heather stared at him suspiciously. He looked like he was suddenly enjoying this way too much. “What special skills?”
He grinned. “Tattoos.”
* * *
HEATHER BALKED AT the entrance to the tattoo parlor. The look of distaste on her face as she stared at the sign over the door was priceless. Nick knew he was having far too much fun teasing her, but he also knew she was far too uptight and nervous for tonight’s dangerous operation. He needed her to loosen up, to have some fun, to relax. And if he enjoyed himself along the way, so be it.
She bit her lip. “Are you absolutely sure it won’t hurt? And that the tattoos won’t be permanent?”
Nick grinned. “Permanent wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” He leaned down next to her ear. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
She rolled her eyes.
Nick winked and pulled the door open, ushering her inside.
“I still don’t see why we had to fly all the way to Saint Augustine for this,” she grumbled.
“This is my home turf. I know whom to trust here. And we couldn’t risk anyone in Key West finding out about you getting these fake tattoos. They have to believe the tattoos are real, that you’re Lily, for this to work.”
She stared up at him. “You were just teasing me about having a tattoo, right? I know you don’t have any.”
“You sure about that?” He dipped his head again, his mouth hovering next to her ear. “We only made love once. Are you sure you saw every...single...inch of me?”
Heather blinked, her face flushing an adorable shade of pink.
Nick laughed out loud, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Can I help you folks?” A man shorter than Heather, with tattoos completely covering his arms from shoulder to wrist, stepped in from the back. When he saw Nick, he smiled and held out his hand.
“Hey, man, it’s been a while. You here for a touch-up?”
Heather stared at Nick in surprise. He could practically see the thoughts whirling through her mind as she tried to figure out where his tattoo might be. She deliberately turned her back on him, pretending to study a book on the counter that contained dozens of designs.
“Nope, I’m not here for me today, Mitch. This is Heather, a friend of mine.”
Heather turned around and shook his hand, but she didn’t look at Nick.
“What can I do for y’all?” Mitch asked.
In answer, Nick pulled some copies of Lily’s mug shots out of his shirt pocket. He and Heather had stopped at the station earlier for the photos. They were the only pictures that clearly showed Lily’s tattoos.
Mitch didn’t even blink when Nick handed him the pictures. Apparently mug shots weren’t anything new to him.
“I need you to reproduce these tattoos on Heather. I need them to look exactly like the pictures, but they need to be temporary, lasting no more than a couple of weeks.”
“Afraid to commit, huh?” He smiled at Heather. “Don’t worry, you’ll fall in love with my artwork. I guarantee you’ll be back once this starts to fade. You’ll want me to make everything permanent.”
“Don’t count on it.” She allowed him to lead her to a chair that resembled the kind in dentist offices.
The bell above the door rang. Nick turned and smiled with genuine pleasure. He stepped over to greet his brother and sister-in-law.
* * *
HEATHER TRIED NOT to be too obvious with her interest as she watched Rafe Morgan enter the shop. She’d only met him once, after she’d called 911 about her sister’s abduction and he escorted her to the police station. She’d never understood why he’d been the first to arrive after her 911 call, since he was a detective and not a uniformed officer. But he must have been close by and responded when the call came in.
She hadn’t really noticed much about him at the time because she was so focused on her sister’s disappearance. But now, seeing him standing with Nick, she was struck by how alike they were in height and build, but how very different they were in other ways. Rafe had dark hair and dark eyes. He didn’t smile nearly as much as his blond brother, or laugh the way Nick tended to do. Rafe was definitely the more serious of the two.
“Heather?” A soft voice had Heather turning around. She’d been so busy staring at Nick and his brother that she hadn’t realized the petite woman who’d come inside with Rafe was now standing beside her chair. Mitch was a few feet away, in his own little world, studying the pictures of the tattoos as if he were Michelangelo preparing to paint the Sistine Chapel.
“You must be Nick’s sister-in-law,” Heather said, offering her hand and a smile.
The woman shook Heather’s hand and returned her smile. She pushed a thick strand of dark hair back from her face. Her chic-looking bob swished back and forth every time she moved. Her suit was perfectly tailored to fit her tiny figure, and looked like it cost more than Heather could earn on a month of stakeouts.
“Yes, I’m Darby. Mind if I sit down?”
Heather shook he
r head, and Darby pulled a folding chair from nearby and sat. “Nick called Rafe earlier this morning and asked if I could pick up some clothes for you. He said you might have some pictures I could use to get some outfits for the case you’re working on. I’d love to help. I know all the specialty shops around here. I can find whatever you need and make it back before Mitch is finished.”
Heather shot a glance at Nick. He was still talking to his brother, but he was watching her.
“Um, what exactly did Nick tell you about me?”
“All he said was that you were going undercover on a case together.” She hesitated, glancing at Nick before continuing. “But I know Nick fairly well,” she said, lowering her voice. “I can tell he cares about you. I’ve never seen him so...focused on anyone. I know you two have some sort of past, but Rafe wouldn’t give me any details.” She grinned. “Even though I tried everything I could to get him to tell me, after Nick called this morning.”
Heather sighed. “I wish you were right about Nick, but I’m afraid if he’s focused it’s because he doesn’t trust me. Let’s just say, he’s judged me and found me lacking.”
Darby frowned. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right. I could have sworn...well, it doesn’t matter. How about it? Are you going to let me pick out some clothes for you?”
Mitch laid out his tools on a tray beside the chair and waited expectantly. He was obviously ready to get on with his plans to pepper Heather’s arms and torso with tattoos.
Heather grimaced and leaned in close to Darby. “Thank goodness he’s not going to give me any real tattoos. I can’t imagine having someone stick me with needles and paint my skin permanently.”
Darby’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s not as bad as you think. And the right tattoo, in the right location, can drive a man crazy.”
Heather laughed, surprised a woman as conservative-looking as Darby might actually have a tattoo. “Are you saying that you—”
Darby nodded, her face flushing a light pink. “Now give me those pictures so I can go shopping. By the time I’m done, you won’t recognize yourself.”
Heather gave her a wan smile. As she passed copies of Lily’s pictures to Darby, she felt her face flush warm. She wished she had other pictures of her sister, but these were the only ones. She and Lily didn’t exactly go for photo ops when Lily blew into town.
Darby’s eyes widened. “Are these—”
“Mug shots. Yes. That’s my twin sister. Is that a problem?”
Darby cleared her throat and shoved the pictures into her purse. “Of course not. Just leave everything to me.”
Chapter Ten
Leaving everything to Darby had been a colossal mistake.
Back at the hotel in Key West again, Heather desperately searched her suitcase one more time and shook her head in disbelief. Darby had taken her shopping assignment to the extreme. She’d bought three outfits, probably to give Heather a choice. But every single one was far too risqué. Even the underwear was like what her sister would wear. The bras were tiny scraps of lace that would barely support her. The panties looked like neon silly string. There was no way Heather could wear this stuff.
She wanted to make others believe she was Lily, yes, but she couldn’t dress quite as...revealing as her sister did. She’d mentioned that to Darby. She was sure of it, and yet everything Darby had bought was too short or too tight or just plain too indecent for Heather to even consider wearing.
She sighed and flipped the suitcase closed. Instead, she pulled some of her own clothes out of the closet. She mixed and matched, trying to figure out something that would work. The above-the-knee skirt and short-sleeved blouse would have to do. Mitch’s amazing artwork would show just fine with this top. That’s all that mattered.
Nick was sitting at the small table next to the kitchenette studying a map spread out before him when she walked out of the bedroom.
His brows climbed to his hairline and he rolled his eyes. “Please tell me that’s not what Darby bought you. Didn’t you give her the pictures of Lily?”
Heather glanced down at her ensemble. It’s not like she’d tucked the blouse in or anything. She’d left the last three buttons undone and had even dared to tie the ends of the blouse together. For goodness’ sake, her belly button was showing. No one who knew her would ever expect her to dress like this, not even on one of her forays into the bar scene while doing her P.I. job.
“The clothes Darby bought didn’t work out, so I had to get creative with some of my old clothes.” She waved her hand at her blouse. “This is like something Lily would wear.”
Nick laughed. “No. It isn’t.” He pushed back from his chair and strode toward her.
“How would you know? You only met her once. The night you threw both of us in jail.”
He stopped in front of her. “We’re not having that argument tonight. We have too much to do.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you even seen the cell where they house the women prisoners? It’s disgusting. It smells like pee.”
His lips twitched. Lucky for him, he didn’t smile, or she would have been tempted to kick him in the groin.
“No, I didn’t know it smelled like...pee,” he said. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom.
“What are you doing? I thought you wanted to get to the bar by nine.”
“You’re not going out looking like that. No one would believe you were Lily.” He let her hand go and flipped the suitcase open on top of the bed. He pulled out a pink tank top with spaghetti straps. “How about this?”
She shook her head and held the top against her. “Look how short it is. It would barely cover my breasts.”
He stared at the shirt for a moment. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Right.” He grabbed another shirt out of the suitcase and held it up.
Heather shook her head. “Too low-cut. I’d fall out.”
Nick’s gaze shot to her chest, as if he were trying to imagine just that thing. His mouth tightened and he balled up the shirt and tossed it onto the bed. He dug around in the suitcase some more. “Aha.” He pulled out a leopard-print tank and held it up. “Long enough to, ah, cover you and not too low-cut.”
She took the shirt and held it up, eyeing it critically. “There’s something that isn’t quite right about this.” She understood the spaghetti strap on the right side. But what held it up on the left side? The neckline didn’t even look straight. She was seriously having doubts about Darby’s so-called shopping expertise. “I’m not even sure I know how to put this on.”
Nick pulled a short black miniskirt out of the suitcase and handed it to her. “You’ll figure it out. Hurry. We should have left ten minutes ago.”
She huffed and headed into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, she stared at herself in the mirror, horrified.
A knock sounded on the door. “I’ve got your shoes. Or, at least, I think these are the right shoes. They’re black. That matches everything, right?”
“I am not wearing this...this...outfit,” Heather said, raising her voice so he could hear her. “I look like a hooker.”
The door opened. Heather’s gaze shot to Nick’s in the mirror as he stepped in behind her. He set a pair of six-inch stilettos on the countertop.
Heather gasped. “I can’t possibly wear those...those medieval foot-torturing devices. I’d break my neck.”
He grinned. “Medieval torture, huh?” He cocked his head to the side, studying her reflection. “I don’t think that’s the way that’s supposed to work.” He tugged the left side of the shirt off her shoulder. “There. That looks better.”
Heather stared into the mirror. One side of the shirt was held up by the spaghetti strap. The other side hung low, revealing far more of her breasts than she’d ever revealed in public before, except maybe at the bea
ch in a swimsuit. Even then, she wasn’t sure she’d shown off this much skin. She shook her head. “I can’t do it. I can’t go out like this. The top is—”
“Perfect. It shows off your lovely...tattoos.” His grin broadened, letting her know he’d substituted tattoos at the last second.
She eyed the artwork Mitch had so painstakingly painted on her arms and upper body. The pink dragon peeked out of the top of her skirt. She’d blushed profusely the entire time Mitch was working on that particular tattoo. Her skin had felt as though it was on fire, especially when Nick sat down beside her, watching every stroke, after Rafe and Darby left on the shopping trip.
“That one’s my favorite,” Nick breathed next to her ear.
She shivered and refused to meet his gaze.
He picked up the shoes and held them out. “I can’t wait to see how you look in these.” The teasing laughter in his voice told her he knew how hard it was for her to stand here in this outfit, and he was having fun at her expense.
“No,” she said. “I told you I’m not wearing those. And I’m not wearing this ridiculous outfit. I’ll put my own clothes back on.” She turned to leave, but he didn’t budge an inch.
His thighs pressed up against hers and his chest rubbed against her breasts. He set the shoes on the countertop and braced his hands on the sink, trapping her.
“How did you and your sister grow up in the same household and end up so completely different?” His voice was low and husky. There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, or the way his pulse was slamming in his chest. She could feel every beat of his heart against hers.
“Let me guess. You prefer the way my sister dresses.”
“I didn’t say that. But dressing so...minimally...does have its advantages.” He winked.
Heather didn’t know what to make of his flirty mood. She tried to focus on her memories of the jail cell to combat her softening feelings toward a man she could never have, but with Nick standing so close, all she could think of was how good his hard body felt against her soft curves. And how perfectly...edible he smelled.