Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys

by Annabel Joseph

  "I want you," she whispered, closing the foot of space between them and circling her arms around his neck. "I don't care about what's right or wrong, I don't care about tomorrow morning, I don't care about morals or virtues or any of that. I want you, I need you, and if you think badly of me, so be it. Please, Patrick, please make love to me."

  The embers burning inside him flared into a white hot flame, and swooping her up, he carried her to the bed, laid her down, and resting his weight on top of her, he dropped his lips on hers. He kissed her, holding nothing back, exposing his hungry need as he crushed her lips, praying she would know his fervent desire for her was based on more than just lust, and when he finally broke away, his heart was pounding, his cock was standing at full attention, and he was completely breathless. Raising his gaze, he found her panting as he was, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes half-lidded. For a moment, he thought she was about to speak, but she didn't, instead, moaning her pleasure and raising her chest, silently begging his lips to visit her breasts.

  He wanted to slow things down, but his burning fever had taken control, and as he traveled his mouth to her cleavage, his hands moved to the thin spaghetti straps resting on her shoulders. Sliding them down, exposing her luscious mounds, he dove his mouth from one nipple to the next, hungrily sucking as he listened to her utterances of joy, then hastily sliding off her gown and tossing it aside, he pushed his fingers into her naked sex. She cried out and wriggled against his touch, and as he thrust his finger into her soaked strait, he heard himself groan. Rising up, he tore off his undershirt and boxers, then laying back on top of her, he pushed her legs apart with his own, and rested his cock against her sex.

  Ruby closed her eyes and waited for the magic she'd never experienced, the magic that was already happening. Her body was alive, his touch had sparked her skin, and she was hungering to feel him inside her. His fingers were curling around her wrists, pinning her down as he had, just a short time before, and as he thrust inside her, a swell of emotion washed through her heart. For the first time, she was experiencing something amazing, something that went beyond her fantasies. His wiry chest hair was rubbing briskly against her cherry nipple tips, he was pumping faster and faster, taking her higher and higher, then he unexpectedly dropped his lips to her ear.

  "You're going to come for me," he muttered huskily. "You're going to come for me, right now."

  The scintillating sensations suddenly rippled through her body, and as she surrendered to the crashing climax, she couldn't stop her cry of pleasure. The flashing ripples seemed endless, but as they began to wane, she felt him abruptly pull out, and barely conscious, she heard him groan through his climax. She was floating on a serene cloud when she felt him leave the bed, and when he returned, moments later, he gently wiped her stomach with a cloth.

  "Hey, beautiful lady," he crooned, stretching out next to her and pulling her into his arms. "How are you?"

  "Heavenly," she purred, snuggling against him.

  "Next innings, I'm going to take my time. I want to explore every inch of you."

  "It was perfect. It was beyond perfect."

  "There's so much more."

  "I can't imagine it."

  He'd barely heard her whispered words and was about to respond, when he realized she was already falling asleep.

  "You're well rid of that joker of a husband," he mumbled, gazing down at her. "And don't worry. I'm going to keep you safe through all of this."

  Chapter 8

  Three Days Later

  To make sure Patrick's cover was solid, Earl had tracked down Al's relatives in the Midwest. They were happy to cooperate, but they had nothing good to say about Al Rogan. He had been a blight on the family name, and while they were sorry he had come to such a dreadful end, they weren't surprised.

  But there was another issue about which Earl was deeply concerned.

  Salerno and Cavelli were known to be part of a crime family, and Patrick had insisted the undercover operation be kept completely under wraps. No one at the station could know. There might be informants in the department, and as much as Earl didn't want to accept that any of his men were corrupt, he had to grudgingly admit it was possible. Blackmail, large sums of money, and the threat of bodily harm to loved ones could persuade a man to switch sides. It meant there could be no patrol cars keeping an eye on the house and none of his men hidden in the home. Patrick would be flying solo.

  Ruby never wanted to leave the hotel in which she'd spent blissful hours in the arms of her private detective. The tough, no-nonsense Patrick McGuire was the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man she'd ever met. After discovering the bed in the adjoining room carried less of a squeak, they had used it for their more boisterous activities. The tousled bedcovers in both rooms kept up appearances, which, to Ruby's surprise, was important to Patrick. She didn't care. She wanted the whole world to know they were together.

  His whispered promise to explore every part of her had been kept. More than once, his lips had slowly, deliciously, leisurely consumed her body, hungrily drawing her breasts into his mouth and languidly sucking as she'd begged him to touch between her legs. He'd traveled his tongue down her torso to lap at her sex, keeping her on the edge until she was breathlessly pleading for her climax. Only then, had he slid his steel rod into her depths and driven her to her orgasm. Several times, he had spanked her bottom to a tingling blush, teasing her between slaps, sending her into paroxysms of pleasure while still over his lap, but there had been one occasion that he'd lustily spanked her. She'd wanted to visit the Rogan's Italian restaurant in Little Italy for lunch, but Patrick had told her it wasn't safe.

  "It's the middle of the day! What's going to happen in the middle of the day?"

  "Anything! And that's one place they'll definitely be watching. Salerno and Cavelli don't need to be there in person. If they're looking for you, they'll have eyes everywhere. The last thing we need is to be followed back here."

  "Then let's go to some other Italian place. I'm craving pasta."

  "I'll have Ned get you whatever you want."

  "What I want, Patrick, is to go out to eat."

  "It's not worth the risk, and if you continue to argue with me, I'll have to put my foot down."

  "Don't you mean your hand?" she'd said sarcastically, her bright blue eyes filled with challenge.

  "You bet!"

  "Listen, Patrick McGuire, they won't have people in every restaurant in this big city. You're being ridiculous."

  "You know what I think? I think you want me to properly spank you, and I'm happy to oblige."

  "What do you mean, properly? I don't—"

  He was yanking her over his knee before she could finish, scolding her as he smacked, making sure she understood her safety was far more important than any food craving she might have.

  Patrick had guessed right. Ruby had been testing him, and when she crawled off his lap with a stinging backside and curled into his arms, she felt oddly satisfied and reassured.

  Between their bouts of glorious love-making, they'd lain together, softly talking, sharing their triumphs and tragedies, laughing at the more ludicrous of their choices and the most profoundly important decisions they didn't realize would be so crucial at the time they were made. The world outside existed only when Patrick would leave to make a telephone call from the lobby or a quick trip to his apartment for some fresh clothes. During his absences, Ruby counted the minutes until he returned, many times jotting down notes she thought might help when he took on the role of Al's brother.

  But their heavenly holiday had come to an end. It was the day of the funeral, after which they'd be returning to the house. The plan was simple. Patrick and Ruby would take a taxi to the police station, and Earl would drive her to the funeral home. Patrick would show up a short time later. At the appropriate time, he would take to the podium, introduce himself as Al's brother, Robert, and say a few words about his dearly departed sibling.

  "Do you think Frank Salerno and Joseph Cavelli
will be there?" Ruby asked nervously as she placed the last of her belongings into a small suitcase Patrick had bought her. "If they are, what should I say to them?"

  "They may want to keep a low profile. It's hard to say. "

  "This is so nerve-racking."

  "If they are there and try to talk to you, just be too exhausted or emotional. They'll back off with so many people around."

  "How soon do you think they'll contact you?"

  "My guess is it'll happen pretty quick, but, Ruby, enough about them. Let's talk about you."

  "What about me?"

  "I wish we could be together overnight when we're back at the house, but you know it will be too dangerous."

  "You've told me this a thousand times. Why are you repeating it?"

  "Because I know what's going to happen. When it starts getting late—"

  "Stop," she said, holding up her hand as she cut him off. "I will sneak off to Rhoda's and sneak back in the morning, I will, I promise. Speaking of Rhoda, you're absolutely sure she's okay with this?"

  "Absolutely," Patrick assured her. "She talked my ear off about how excited she is to be part of an undercover operation."

  "I'm sure she did. That woman can talk like no one I've ever met."

  "I know, and it's a worry, but I had to fill her in," he said soberly. Then pausing and dropping his voice, he added, "There's something I need to tell you."

  "You look so serious."

  "I don't get involved with clients, not ever," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "You're not a client, Ruby. I care about you very much."

  "Patrick…me too."

  "When this is over, I'll be showing up at your door with flowers and chocolates."

  "I probably shouldn't say this, but I'll never want you to leave, chocolates or no chocolates."

  Chapter 9

  Earl was waiting for them at a side entrance, and though he looked solemn, Patrick could see the admiration in Earl's eyes as he welcomed Ruby. Her form-fitting black suit showed off her Hollywood star figure, highlighted her blonde hair, and made her blue eyes seem even brighter.

  "How are you, Ruby?" he asked as he led them down a back hallway and into his office. "Can I get you anything?"

  "No, thank you. I just want this nightmare to be over."

  "No doubt. I just need a quick word with your P.I. Will you excuse us for a minute? There's the morning paper," he said, pointing to it on his desk. "That should keep you out of trouble."

  "What kind of trouble can a girl get into at a police station?"

  Patrick could see Ruby's beguiling looks and quick wit were charming his former boss, and with a grin, he followed Earl into the hallway.

  "She's somethin', isn't she?" Patrick said, more a statement than a question. "I've gotten to know her these last couple of days, and she's as smart as a whip."

  "Yeah, she's a beauty, and this is going to be tough," Earl said with a heavy frown. "Let's talk in here."

  As they stepped into a cramped, messy office, Patrick prepared himself. Earl had learned something, and it wasn't good news.

  "I had a guy come in here yesterday and make a statement," Earl began. "He claims he saw Ruby Rogan in a diner a couple of days before Rogan's murder. Says he saw her hand an envelope to Frank Salerno and hurry out."

  "He's sure it was her?"

  "Yep."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "The boys found a gold lighter at the scene with the initials FS. When I confronted Frank Salerno about it, he said he'd left it there the last time he'd been at the house, but then he threw me a curve ball. He hinted that your lovely client paid him and his pal Joseph Salerno to knock off her husband. Here's the killer, if you'll pardon the expression. He said they thought about it, but turned her down, and they'll cooperate fully if they get immunity for not contacting us and turning her in."

  "What? Ruby had nothing to do with Al's death!"

  "Patrick, I can't ignore what's come up. As much as I like her, I have to consider she may be playing you."

  "No, not a chance."

  "There's more. We talked to Rhoda Greenberg, her neighbor. Did you know she was the one who alerted the station?"

  "No."

  "She contacted us because she heard a ruckus, and it was just a short time before Ruby called her."

  "So you think Ruby smashed her husband over the head with a fireplace poker, gouged his eye with her scarlet stiletto, then called her neighbor? That's crazy."

  "Maybe Ruby and Al were fighting, it escalated, he was shoving her around, she was wearing the shoes and pulled one off to defend herself. Somehow, it landed in his eye, and that's when she grabbed the poker."

  "But you said she showed no signs of having been in a fight," Patrick argued.

  "Doesn't mean it didn't happen."

  Patrick's mind began to spin. He hated to admit it, but Earl's theory was plausible.

  "It could have been self-defense, but maybe, just maybe, she planned to kill him," Earl continued. "And maybe she's been checking you out for a while and found out you're not bad looking and you're single. A girl like that uses what God gave her, and in her case, it's both brains and beauty."

  "Who's the guy who claims he saw her in the diner?" Patrick asked, wanting to change the subject.

  "Did I hit a nerve?"

  "I don't believe she's guilty of anything, not for a minute. Please tell me about this witness."

  "He's a stand-up guy."

  "Everyone's a stand-up guy until they're bribed or blackmailed. What did he say?"

  "Salerno and Cavelli came in, she arrived a few minutes later, sat opposite them in a booth, they talked for a few minutes, then she reached into her purse and handed them an envelope."

  "An envelope that looked like it was stuffed with money?"

  "He couldn't remember any details about it, but here's the thing. Why didn't she mention it?"

  "That's a fair question," Patrick said grudgingly. "But there has to be a reason. Can you do me a favor?"

  "That depends."

  "Can you let me be the one to ask her about this?"

  "We've got to officially question her, Patty."

  "Yeah, I know, but…hang on a minute. I think I know what's going on here."

  "You mean, besides doll-face being a smart, manipulative, beautiful broad?"

  "Yeah, besides that," Patrick said sarcastically, shooting Earl a look. "All you have is a vague theory, and me posing as Al's brother is all we have to uncover the truth. That's what you want, right? The truth?"

  "Hey, easy pal. I told you all that because you've got to keep your eyes open. Be my guest, but I still need to talk to her, and remember, she might not be who you think she is."

  "I'll wager a steak dinner at Lugers, she's exactly who I think she is."

  "Anyone else, I'd take that wager, but you always did have the best nose in this place so you can keep your bet, and honestly, Patty, I hope you're right. I didn't mean to get your dander up."

  "I know. You're just doing your job."

  "Let's go. We have a funeral to attend."

  Moving back into Earl's office, they found Ruby sitting as they'd left her, gazing at the unopened newspaper.

  "Are you all right, Ruby?" Patrick asked, seeing the faraway look on her face.

  "Yes, fine, but, uh, Detective Baxter, I know you have to view everyone as a possible suspect, and that includes me."

  "I'm sorry to say you're right about that," Earl replied, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "We do need to talk, but we should be leaving."

  "They won't start without me," she remarked. "And I've remembered something. I think it might be important."

  "I'm listening."

  "Remember I told you my other scarlet stiletto is missing?"

  "Yeah, of course."

  "The thing is, I picked up those shoes just last week. The leather was being treated."

  "Go on."

  "They were still in the bag. I never took them out, and when I, uh
, removed the shoe from Al's eye, I was wearing gloves."

  "What's your point?"

  "My fingerprints. They'll be on the bag, but not the shoes."

  "That doesn't rule you out, Ruby."

  "She's talking about the bag," Patrick interjected. "Whoever took the shoes from the bag may have left their prints."

  "Exactly," Ruby exclaimed. "This murder had to be premeditated. Whoever it was had to know where the shoes were kept and then took them out of the bag."

  "Where is it now?" Earl asked. "Please tell me you didn't throw it away."

  "I almost did, but I was so frightened, I just wanted to get out of there. It should still be laying on the floor of my closet."

  "I'll have one of my boys run over there. Tell me exactly where to find it."

  "Maybe I should do that," Patrick suggested, giving Earl a look that said he didn't trust anyone else. "I can be late to the funeral. It might even be better if I am."

  "Good idea," Earl agreed.

  "Go up the stairs, and the bedroom is behind the double doors at the end of the hallway," Ruby said, opening her purse and pulling out her house keys. "My shoes are at the end of the closet on the right. You'll see a brown paper sack laying in front of them."

  "That was good thinking, Ruby," Earl said soberly. "Now, we'd better take off."

  As Patrick followed Earl and Ruby out of his office, he prayed the innocuous paper bag would reveal the killer's identity. It wasn't Ruby! He was sure of it.

  Chapter 10

  Patrick found the paper bag inside the closet, exactly where Ruby had told him it would be, and muttering a heartfelt thank you, he carefully folded it into his handkerchief and placed it in his overcoat pocket then hurried back to the waiting cab. He expected Al Rogan's funeral would draw a crowd, and he was right. As the taxi rolled into the parking lot, he could see there wasn't a spot to be had.