Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: To Honor and To ProtectCorneredUntraceable

by Debra

  She had to learn to let “Bob” touch her, to be around her. To kiss her.

  Seeing that she had withdrawn from even the slightest physical contact with anyone over the past year and a half, undoing it in a little over two days wasn’t going to be easy.

  Plus, Evan wanted to do some surveillance on Cady’s house, at least the outer grounds, before they went in on Wednesday. The more they knew about the location, the better it would be.

  Theoretically.

  Evan tapped on Juliet’s office door. “I come in peace.”

  She looked up from where she sat at her desk. “I know my brothers are your best friends, but they are really idiots sometimes.”

  “No argument here.” Evan sat down in a nearby chair. “But if it helps, they’re on board now. Anything you need or want for this op, just ask them and they’ll get it to you.”

  Juliet nodded. “I know they’re worried about me. I don’t blame them.”

  “You’re going to do fine.” Looking at her now, so comfortable in her office, her color just slightly heightened from the fight with her brother, Evan believed his own words.

  “I noticed when you were telling Dylan what happened that you left out the part where I hurled my guts all over the pavement. That’s not exactly the most confidence-inspiring action.”

  Evan shrugged. “We’ve all lost it a time or two. Throwing up isn’t the worst way someone’s dealt with the stress of an op. Plus, you didn’t do it while we were surrounded by Cady and his men. That’s what counts.”

  “But what if I had, Evan?” Juliet’s posture was hunched, her voice strained. “What if I had lost it right there in the middle of everything?”

  “Then we would’ve dealt with it. Like anything that doesn’t go your way while you’re undercover. We would’ve blamed the guy who grabbed you, or the Avian flu, or told them you were pregnant. But we would’ve come up with something.”

  Juliet didn’t look convinced.

  “We can’t prepare for every possibility in the field. That’s why not everyone is cut out for working undercover. You have to think on your feet and be ready for anything.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know that I’m able to do that anymore. I could barely think at all at the warehouse this morning.”

  “We’ll stick together as much as possible, have each other’s backs. And always, if you don’t know what to say, the best bet is to say as little as possible.”

  Juliet’s grin was wry. “That shouldn’t be a problem for me.”

  “Are you nearly done here? I don’t think we can afford to waste any time. We’re going to need every bit of the days we have before meeting Cady.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Burgamy all but jumped for joy when I told him I was going back undercover as Lisa Sinclair. Then got this very smug look on his face, like he knew it would happen all along. He had Chantelle clear everything off my plate for the next couple of weeks.”

  “Poor Chantelle. I don’t know how she can bear being that close to Burgamy all the time.”

  Juliet began gathering up papers, straightening her desk. “I won’t waste any more time around here, so you and I can get to work prepping for the op. And I won’t be offended, Evan, if you feel we need to start back at the very beginning. As if I’m fresh out of the academy.” But he could tell she found the thought distasteful.

  “Even if you were straight out of the FBI Academy, you’ve still got good instincts, Jules. You’re just going to need to learn not to panic. You’ve got the skills, we just have to hone them. It’ll all come back.”

  Evan walked over to her desk and helped her collect and stack the files that had to do with Vince Cady. Juliet’s discomfort grew as he got closer to her. Normally he would’ve backed off, given her the space she requested with her nonverbal communication. But not now.

  Physical distance between the two of them was over. Their lives would depend on it.

  Evan never actually touched her, but definitely came near enough to invade her personal space. Juliet didn’t say anything, but shifted away, avoiding eye contact and rocking slightly.

  That sort of behavior was more likely to get them killed while undercover than anything else. She couldn’t cringe every time he was near.

  “Jules.” Evan kept his tone soft, even. “Lisa Sinclair wouldn’t shy away from Bob. He’s her husband. They love each other.”

  She nodded jerkily and stopped sliding farther away. But she was obviously still uncomfortable. Evan moved nearer.

  “It’s just me, Jules,” he said softly into her ear. “I’ve been this close to you a hundred times before.”

  * * *

  JULIET KNEW WHAT Evan said was true. They had been this close countless times before. She had known him since they were teenagers. He’d been running around with her brothers for almost as long as she could remember.

  Evan was never going to hurt her.

  Juliet tried to relax into that knowledge. The presence of such a large man—she came only up to his chin—so close beside her was still unsettling, but this was Evan. It was okay. Juliet took a deep breath and let the fear ease out of her system.

  This is Evan. She repeated it in her head like a mantra.

  They finished stacking the files. Evan helped her put them into her bag.

  “So what’s the plan?” Juliet asked him.

  “When was the last time you fired your weapon?”

  “I’ve kept current. Been at the range at least weekly.”

  “Good, because we don’t have time to mess with that. We’ve got more important things to do, like go grocery shopping.”

  Of all the things Juliet could think of that needed to be done before their next meeting with Cady—memorization of her undercover role, brushing up on hand-to-hand combat, going over details about Cady and his known associates, coming up with a solid overall plan—none involved walking leisurely through a grocery store.

  But that’s where she found herself forty-five minutes later. Strolling through the local grocery store, pushing a cart, Evan right next to her helping her pick out produce.

  As if they were on their fifth date and about to make a romantic meal together.

  And the crazy thing was, for the first time in as long as Juliet could remember, the thought of a romantic meal didn’t make her want to be sick to her stomach.

  Evan didn’t talk to her about the case or Vince Cady. He just talked about normal stuff, as if they were getting to know each other.

  “Fresh strawberry pie is my favorite. Although apple pie with ice cream...I don’t know that anything in the world is much better than that. How about you?”

  Juliet stared at him as he handed her a pint of strawberries to put in their cart. His thumb grazed her hand as he did it. Juliet could swear she could feel where his thumb had touched her skin even after he moved away. “How about me, what?”

  “What’s your favorite kind of pie?” Evan took a small step closer and smiled at her.

  That smile—the one that brought out the dimple in his chin—did something to Juliet’s insides. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something she hadn’t been sure she’d ever feel again.

  The faintest stirrings of desire.

  She immediately took a step back. “I don’t know. I guess key lime pie is my favorite.”

  Yeah, Evan wanted her to be comfortable with him, but he didn’t want her actually wanting him, she was sure. Plus, she totally couldn’t think about feelings right now. Just surviving the next few days.

  But she couldn’t stop looking at the dimple in his chin.

  Juliet tried to keep everything professional, yet friendly between them as they walked around the store. It was hard, given the way Evan constantly touched her, just briefly, or smiled, or said something funny to make her laugh.

  Eventually they gathered all the food Evan deemed necessary for whatever meal he had planned, then paid and went out to his car. He had insisted she leave hers at Omega.

  “Your house?”
he asked her. “It’s closest.”

  Juliet froze in the middle of putting a bag of groceries in the back of his Jeep. Evan couldn’t see her house, not the state it was in right now. “No, let’s go to your town house. That’ll be better. Mine’s a mess.”

  And she wasn’t just talking about a mess, although it was a mess. She was talking about something else.

  He didn’t seem to have any argument with that, and Juliet relaxed. Evan just wouldn’t understand what she’d done in her house. Juliet didn’t even understand it.

  Evan’s town house wasn’t too far from her place, just a couple miles. They both lived north of DC, in College Park, a popular area for young professionals.

  She had been to Evan’s home a few years ago, but never just the two of them together. They pulled into his designated parking spot.

  His home was different than Juliet remembered. Previously it had been more of a bachelor pad, with mismatched furniture, no color on the walls. She’d made fun of Evan and her brothers, about their poor taste in decorating, and the fact that some boxes remained unpacked in the middle of their living rooms. She had called all their places the bachelor death pads. They’d argued that they worked too much to be at home very often, anyway.

  Now Evan’s house couldn’t be any more different. The walls were a deep teal, causing the white trim and molding to stand out brightly. The old couch and folding chairs in his living room had been replaced by a lovely overstuffed sofa and matching armchair, both of which fairly begged you to sit down, get comfortable and watch a movie with a loved one.

  The room appealed to all Juliet’s senses. She walked inside, looking around, amazed. “This is gorgeous. When did you do all this?”

  Evan seemed uncomfortable, although Juliet had no idea why. “A little over a year ago. I thought it was finally time to grow up and stop looking like I was about to move out any second. I hired a decorator to help pick things out, although I did most of the work myself.”

  “Well, it’s unbelievable.” She spun away from him to look at the couch. “I couldn’t have picked out a better color myself. And this sofa? I just want to sink into it and stay there forever.”

  Juliet knew she was gushing, but couldn’t help it. She loved everything about this room. Smiling widely, she turned back to Evan.

  Only to find him looking at her with something akin to agony in his eyes.

  “Evan? What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Let’s get this stuff into the kitchen.” He blinked and his easy smile slid back into place. Juliet wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.

  The kitchen was just as tastefully decorated as the living room. Evan now had matching appliances and granite countertops. An island rested in the middle of the space, two stools slid neatly underneath.

  “Wow, whoever your decorator was, I want to kiss him or her.”

  “Her. Kimberly’s pretty brilliant.”

  Juliet could hear the admiration Evan had for this woman. Had they been lovers? All of a sudden Juliet wasn’t as enthralled with the colors and textures as she had been a moment ago.

  Were they still lovers now? Juliet had avoided any personal conversations with Evan for a long time. She realized she had no idea what was going on in his life. For all she knew he could be seriously involved with someone. The thought that she was standing here, leaning against some other woman’s kitchen island, did not sit well with her.

  Juliet knew she had no claim on Evan, no say about his intimacy with other women. Because what could she do? It wasn’t as if she could get involved with him, even if he wasn’t dating someone. Men tended not to like it when their woman shied away from them every time they were touched.

  So what did it matter if Evan had a gorgeous interior decorating girlfriend? If the woman didn’t care if Evan went undercover as someone else’s husband, then it was none of Juliet’s business.

  “Does, uh...Kimberly mind you going undercover for long periods?”

  Evan looked up from where he was putting the fruits and vegetables into the refrigerator. “We’re not dating. As a matter of fact, I think you might be more her type than I am.”

  Juliet just nodded, ignoring the fact that she suddenly loved everything about the town house again.

  “Oh. Well, she did a great job in decorating. I love it here. Definitely not a bachelor death pad any longer.”

  Evan stopped and looked at her for a long moment.

  “What?” Juliet finally asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Get over here and let’s cook dinner.”

  Chapter Ten

  All through the evening, as they cooked, ate and washed dishes, Evan tried to touch Juliet as much as he could. He stayed as close to her as possible, invading her space, even bumping her leg with his under the kitchen island as they ate dinner together.

  She often shied away or flinched, and while something in Evan’s soul shattered each time he saw those little reflexive reactions, he never brought it up. Talking about them wouldn’t do any good.

  It was time to change Juliet’s basic muscle memory. Words weren’t going to get her any more comfortable with being around him. Only being around him would do that.

  Not that it was any hardship for Evan, being this close to Juliet. If he’d had his way he would’ve been this close to Juliet long before now. And would still be long after the case closed.

  Yeah, this was forced intimacy rushed along for the sake of working undercover together. But Evan didn’t mind at all. As a matter of fact, the closeness, the flirtation, just having her around felt totally right to him.

  And her scent. Something about the smell of her hair—not fancy, just clean and fresh—made Evan want to keep her with him for about the next fifty years.

  When she had commented on the decor and furniture changes he’d made in his house, Evan had come to an abrupt realization. All of it had been for her. Not consciously. He’d never once thought oh, Juliet will like this while he’d worked with Kimberly, picking out colors and furniture a year ago.

  But now, having Juliet here, seeing how much she genuinely liked what he’d done with the place, he realized it had all been for her. He had wanted her to have a place where she felt comfortable. Where she felt safe.

  His subconscious hadn’t had any grander plans than that. He hadn’t been thinking she might move in and live here. He’d just wanted it to be a place where she could visit, and not think of it as a bachelor death pad.

  He hadn’t been sure when she might ever come here. He’d just wanted to have it ready whenever she finally did.

  Now they were sitting side by side on the couch in his newly decorated living room, looking over files from the case. Juliet reached for another folder, then kicked one shoe off and tucked her foot beneath her when she sat back down. That caused her to slide a little closer to him. But she didn’t move away, almost didn’t seem to notice the proximity.

  Evan smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope for this plan, after all.

  “I’ve been studying Cady and everything we know about him for the past two days,” she said. “He’s a slippery bastard—has his fingers into everything. But honestly, I’m not sure his son, Christopher, isn’t going to be more of a problem.”

  “Christopher? I don’t know much about him. He’s in his early twenties, right?”

  “Yes, and is just starting to become an important part of his father’s business.”

  “Why now?”

  “We’re not exactly sure. Intel suggests that he’s been back in Vince’s organization for only the last year.”

  “Where was he before that?” Evan asked.

  Juliet reached forward and threw the very thin file Omega had on Christopher Cady onto the table. When she sat back, she moved farther away from Evan, leaning on the arm of the couch. “No one knows. We can’t get any official word or record. But evidently, he hasn’t been living in his parents’ house since he was seventeen.”

  �
�But he’s involved with his dad now?”

  “Yes, for sure. Although he wasn’t at the warehouse today.”

  “Hmm.” Evan reached over and gently clasped the foot Juliet had tucked under her, drawing it onto his lap. He didn’t want to give her a chance to begin withdrawing.

  She looked at him sharply, then down at her foot, but didn’t move away. “Word is that Christopher was in Europe. Cady has family over there. But nobody knows why he was living there instead of here.”

  Her eyelids began to close almost automatically when Evan started rubbing her foot through her thin sock. He found a knot of tension in the arch and applied pressure there with his thumb. She let out a soft little moan.

  “What are you doing?” Juliet asked. But Evan noticed she didn’t pull her foot away.

  “Just trying to get some of the tension out of your system, so you can think clearly. It’s been a pretty stressful day for you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Jules. Just relax. And hand me your other foot while you’re at it.”

  Evan just kept rubbing her instep as Juliet thought it through. He could almost see the emotions play out on her face: pleasure, confusion, even consternation. But no real fear. Eventually, the pleasure won out. She kicked off her other shoe and stretched that foot out, too, then leaned back into the arm of the couch as he worked his magic. Her eyes drifted shut.

  “It’s okay to go to sleep. Like I said, you’ve had a hard day.”

  “No, I’m not going to sleep. But I’ll just rest here for a little while,” Juliet murmured.

  Evan loved how she burrowed back into the cushions just a little. He kept firmly rubbing her feet and ankles, easing tension out as best he could.

  Slowly, her legs became heavier in his hands as she let go of more and more of her control. Despite her protests she was falling asleep. Good, she needed it. It was late; they’d both had an exhausting day. Plus they had even more to do over the next forty-eight hours, including scoping out as much as they could of the Cady residence before going there for the auction.

  Evan debated about whether to carry Juliet upstairs to his bed, but decided against it. She’d probably wake up when he tried to move her, and demand to go home. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight, or touch, for as many hours as possible. He wanted her subconscious to become used to him being around.