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Assignment: Marriage

Page 15

by Jackie Merritt


  “We’ll leave as soon as we get organized.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In western Montana. I’m not going to drive straight through this time, Joe. Our trip north was too hard on Nicole. So we should be pulling into Vegas sometime tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Report in when you get here.”

  “Do I take Nicole to her home, or what?”

  “Well…she’ll probably be too tired to face a barrage of questions immediately after a long trip. Yeah, take her to her house. It’s safe now.”

  “You’re sure about that.”

  “Tell you what. She might not feel safe, so when you get here and report in, I’ll put a car and a couple of men on her house.”

  “Good idea. She’s apt to be nervous at first. Well…see you tomorrow, Joe.”

  “Right. Incidentally, tell her that I talked to her employers. Did it myself so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding. Her job is waiting for her. And, Tuck, thanks for doing a hell of a piece of work. You’ll get a commendation out of this.”

  “Uh, great. Fine. ‘Bye, Joe.” Tuck hung up.

  Nicole saw him hang up the phone, then wondered why he didn’t immediately head for the car. He seemed to be thinking, just standing there thinking. Her heart started pounding. Oh, God, what had happened now?

  Finally he began walking toward the car. Nicole’s anxiety level rose with each step he took. His expression was dark and brooding again, making her imagination run wild. What had Captain Crawford told him to cause that dour look on Tuck’s face?

  He opened the door, sat behind the wheel and pulled the door shut, all without looking at her. Nicole slid across the seat and put her hand on his arm.

  “What is it, Tuck? What’s happened now?”

  His head turned slowly toward her. She was so pretty and he felt her deep inside of himself, in a place no one else had ever occupied. Special.

  “It’s over,” he said quietly. “We’re going home.”

  “What?”

  “They’ve arrested everyone involved, including our stalkers in Coeur d’Alene. The prosecutor wants you back in Vegas as soon as possible.”

  The breath left Nicole’s body in one big whoosh. She fell back against the seat.

  “I thought you’d be thrilled,” Tuck said.

  “I—I am.”

  She didn’t look thrilled. She looked disappointed and rather miserable, pretty much the way he felt.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “We both need a bath and a little rest before we leave. How about renting a motel room for a few hours? Then we’ll get a good meal at a restaurant and start out fresh.” He paused, remembering that there was no longer a reason to pretend they were a married couple. “We’ll get two rooms,” he said, watching her closely while he spoke.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, then the reality of their altered situation sank in. It was over; the fear, the excitement, the living on the edge. For some bizarre reason she felt as though someone or something had let the air out of her.

  “All right,” she said in a tight little voice. “I really would like to shower and get into some clean clothes.”

  “Right.”

  Tuck drove around the small town until he located a motel that struck his fancy. It was constructed of red brick with white wood trim and looked well cared for. He turned into it and stopped the car next to the office. Without further conversation on the matter, he got out and went into the office.

  Nicole blinked at the sting of tears in her eyes: What in God’s name was wrong with her? she had to ask herself. She should be turning handsprings instead of feeling as though the bottom had dropped out of her world.

  But now they wouldn’t be cleaning that awful house and have the opportunity to “focus” on each other. They would drive back to Vegas and, once there, go their separate ways. The feelings she had for Tuck weren’t going to conveniently vanish at the Las Vegas city limits. The truth was, she would never get over him, and it wasn’t fair.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” she mumbled. She had fought against leaving Vegas and now she didn’t want to return. Her change of heart was due to Tuck, and it wasn’t fair. She hadn’t asked for heartache, certainly hadn’t gone looking for it, but she was stuck with it, and it wasn’t fair.

  Tuck came out with two keys, one of which he handed to her when he got into the car. In oppressive silence, he drove to the far end of the motel and pulled into a parking slot in front of Room 115.

  Nicole glanced at her key. Number 116. Their rooms were side by side.

  There didn’t seem to be anything to say. They got out, retrieved their suitcases from the back seat and Tuck locked the car.

  “Well…” Nicole said. “See you later.”

  Tuck looked at the ground for a moment, then lifted his eyes to hers. “Yeah, see you later. Knock on the door if you need anything.”

  “You, too.”

  Inside room 116, Nicole set down her suitcase and threw herself onto the bed, lying on her back to stare at the ceiling. It didn’t seem possible that everything was back to normal so suddenlike. It hadn’t been months, as Detective Harper had warned her could happen, or even weeks. They had moved fast in Vegas, which she’d been assured would be the case. Yet she really hadn’t expected such haste as this. She would have some explaining to do to her employers, but more than likely even her job wasn’t in jeopardy.

  The ceiling was smooth white paint, and it appeared as a large, blank artist’s canvas or a movie screen. Nicole’s imagination provided the images, herself in her home, at her desk in the Monte Carlo, seeing her friends, doing all of the things she had enjoyed before this major interruption of her life.

  Before meeting Tuck Hannigan, she thought grimly. Her former routines seemed dull as dishwater now. How could she just go on as though their time together had never happened? As though they hadn’t made the most incredible love known to mankind?

  Her eyes narrowed then. Tuck didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to get back to Vegas, either, did he? His suggestion to rent rooms so they could clean up and rest for a few hours before leaving was really very surprising, and not at all what she’d come to expect from him and his dedication to duty.

  “Hmm,” she murmured. Was it possible his thoughts were paralleling hers this very minute?

  Her spirit lifted suddenly and she got off the bed and started shedding her dirty clothes. That was when she took notice of the room. Decorated in a deep rose color with white accents, it was a very pleasant room.

  But its most interesting feature, by far, was the door in the contiguous wall of the two motel units, rooms 115 and 116.

  Smiling, she headed for the bathroom and shower.

  The light rapping on Tuck’s side of the connecting door brought a smile to Nicole’s lips. She was dressed, seated at the small table under the room’s one window, and had just finished applying a coat of clear polish to her fingernails. It felt good not to have to shy away from windows anymore, and Nicole had pulled the drapes wide open. The room was bright with natural daylight.

  Rising, she opened her side of the door cautiously, so as not to smudge the wet polish on her nails.

  “Hi,” she said. Tuck looked crisp from a shower and shave. He was wearing fresh jeans and a white shirt. A fluttering in her chest was no surprise.

  “Hi. There’s something I forgot to tell you,” he said. His gaze washed over Nicole’s snow-white jeans and royal blue blouse. Her hair was perfectly arranged and she was wearing makeup. The scent she was giving off was delicious, a delicate perfume that he could almost see her touching to her throat and other erotic points of her body.

  “Come on in.” She waved her hands. “Wet polish. It’ll be dry in a few minutes.” There were two chairs at the round table. Nicole resumed her seat and Tuck sank onto the other. She blew on her nails. “What was it you forget to tell me?”

  Tuck blinked. He’d been so lost in Nicole’s appearance and scent that everything else had fled his mind.
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  “Um…oh, yes. Joe Crawford said to tell you that he talked to your employers and your job is waiting for you.”

  Nicole blew on her nails again. “That’s good news.”

  “You don’t sound like it is.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry.” Her eyes met his. “Apparently you anticipated a different response. Something girlish and giddy, perhaps? I don’t feel girlish and giddy, Tuck.”

  “No?” He was watching her closely. “What are you feeling?”

  She laughed briefly. “That’s a loaded question. Are you sure you want an answer?”

  After a long look at her, he got up to move around her room. Her suitcase was open, and he saw blue jeans, various colored tops and soft, silky underwear. His mouth went dry.

  Swallowing to moisten his throat, he turned. “About your clothes. You should make a list of what was destroyed by the fire so the reimbursement will be as accurate as possible.”

  “It’s going to be a large sum of money,” she said evenly. “I don’t buy inexpensive clothing.”

  “You must make good money.”

  “I do.”

  “Probably twice, three times what I make.”

  “Since I have no idea what police officers are paid, I really couldn’t say.”

  It was a stupid conversation. Tuck didn’t care what her income was and had no desire to discuss his own salary. He should return to his room, lie down and get some rest.

  Still, he lingered. “Are you hungry? We could eat now and rest later.”

  “Or rest now and eat later?” Her direct and steady look contained a challenge that Tuck didn’t miss. It sent a frisson of excitement up his spine.

  “I’ll leave it up to you. What do you want to do?” he asked softly.

  “Another loaded question.” Her voice was low and husky.

  Her references to “loaded questions” raised Tuck’s blood pressure. Obviously she was thinking of intimacy and rather boldly letting him know about it. He darted a quick glance at her bed, then jerked his eyes back to her. They were suddenly on the same wavelength.

  Slowly, Nicole got to her feet. “What’s happening with us, Tuck?” she asked in a near whisper as she took the few steps separating them. Standing in front him, she tilted her head to look into his eyes. When he merely looked back without answering, she said, “Do you know?”

  He drew in a long, unsteady breath. She was close enough to touch, and touching was definitely on his mind. Talking about it wasn’t, though. He had no answers to give her. None, for that matter, to give himself.

  “Physical attraction, I guess,” he mumbled thickly.

  “An understatement,” she murmured. “Do you know that thoughts of making love with you rarely leave my mind?” She stepped closer and laid her hands on his chest. Rising on tiptoes, she put her lips very close to his. “When we get back to Vegas, are you going to forget me, Tuck?”

  He swept her into his arms almost angrily. Only a breath separated their faces. “I didn’t come in here for this,” he stated darkly.

  Her eyes contained a woman’s knowledge and a trace of laughter. “Yes, you did. This is exactly why…”

  His mouth on hers stopped everything. She moved against him, lifting her hands to thread through his hair. His kiss conveyed urgency and desire, and she kissed him back in the same impassioned way.

  Breathing hard, they tipped their heads back to look at each other. “Are you fighting with yourself over this?” she whispered hoarsely.

  “It shouldn’t be happening.”

  “Why shouldn’t it?” Her hands slipped down to the front of his shirt, where she began undoing buttons. “Because you intend to forget me when we’re home again?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  She had his shirt open, and she pressed her lips to the hot skin of his chest. He groaned. She was right. This was exactly why he’d knocked on that connecting door. He’d tried to rest after cleaning up and had even been lying down. But instead of sleeping, which he’d wholeheartedly wanted to do, he’d lain there thinking of Nicole, remembering last night and how wild their lovemaking had been.

  Then he’d remembered what Joe had said about talking to Nicole’s employers—a damned good excuse for knocking on that door.

  “The first time we made love you said something important was happening between us,” she whispered. “Now you’re saying it shouldn’t be happening. What should I believe, Tuck?”

  He took her by the shoulders. His eyes burned into hers. “Believe that I want you. It’s not something I can control. But believe, also, that it’s not best for us.”

  She said nothing for a long time, and they just stood there and studied the emotion in each other’s eyes. Then, quietly, huskily, she spoke. “Shall I pull the drape?”

  Twelve

  Tuck checked his watch in the dim light of the room. Nicole was snuggled next to him. Dozing, he thought. They had been in her bed for more than an hour, and his entire system was saturated with the aftermath of breathtaking sex.

  They were going to have to leave soon, get something to eat, and hit the road. He sighed.

  Nicole wriggled around and raised up onto her elbow. “Hey, Hannigan. Everything all right?” Her voice was softly teasing, warm and tantalizing.

  “Sure,” he said evenly, giving her a slight grin. Even that was an effort when he didn’t feel at all like smiling. Their relationship was getting dangerously close to the real thing, and he was divided over it.

  But he didn’t want to start confessing his indecisiveness to Nicole. Regardless of his confused state of mind—definitely not her fault—she was a special woman. The problem was that he had to make up his mind about himself before he could involve someone else in his life, especially a woman whom he knew had deep and tender feelings for him.

  Nicole sat up abruptly, tugging on the edge of the sheet to cover her breasts. “Know what I’d like to do now?”

  For some reason he became wary. “What?”

  “Talk.”

  “Talk about what?” He could feel himself mentally retreating from the idea.

  “About you.” She put on a serious expression—not altogether effective because of the twinkle in her eyes—and spoke in the somber voice of a newscaster relating an incident of tragic proportions. “The question is, folks, just who is Officer Tuck Hannigan, and what is it that lies under his thick layer of cop skin?”

  “Cop skin?” Tuck had to laugh, and it wasn’t an effort, either. “You’re sort of a kook, do you know that?”

  “Is that a polite word for ‘crazy’?” she asked pertly.

  His smile faded, and he couldn’t resist touching her. Gently his fingertips caressed her cheek. “You’re not crazy,” he said softly.

  She took a breath and still sounded breathless. “Yes, I am. Crazy about you, mister.”

  His fingers stopped moving, though they remained on her cheek. “Don’t say that, Nicole. You don’t really know me.” In the next instant he left her altogether and slid off the bed. “We’ve got to get going.”

  Her eyes followed his movements while an unbearable ache grew in her midsection. He pulled on his underwear and jeans, then gathered his other things and walked to the door between their rooms. “Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”

  “I can be ready in ten,” she said dully. What was there to do, other than take a quick shower?

  “Okay. See you then.” Walking out, he closed her side of the connecting door behind him. Listening intently, she heard another click: he had also locked his side of the door.

  * * *

  “How does that place look to you?” Tuck asked. They had left the motel, stopped to gas the car, and were now seeking a restaurant. At least Tuck was. Nicole’s thoughts were as far from food as they could get.

  “It looks fine,” she said with barely a glance at the blueand-white building. It bore a sign: Tommy’s Steak House. Even though breakfast hadn’t been exactly hardy and had taken place ab
out five hours ago, the thought of a steak turned her stomach.

  Tuck pulled into Tommy’s parking lot and turned off the ignition. Nicole’s blue mood was easily recognized and he felt guilty as hell because he’d caused it.

  “Come on. A good meal will make you feel a lot better.”

  Her eyes snapped suddenly. “Don’t be a jerk, Tuck. Thus far, that’s the one thing you haven’t been!” It wasn’t completely true. Several times she’d put him in the jerk category, but she’d never said it to his face until now. She opened her door and climbed out.

  They traipsed into the restaurant and were shown to a booth. The waitress laid down menus. “May I get you something to drink while you’re looking over the menu?”

  “Coffee,” Tuck ordered.

  “Do you have a bar?” Nicole asked, earning a sharp look from Tuck.

  “Yes, ma’am. What would you like?”

  “A vodka martini, straight up. Make it a double.”

  The waitress walked away and Tuck sat back with his eyes narrowed on Nicole. “So, you like vodka martinis? I never would have guessed.”

  “Frankly, I don’t care for the taste of liquor of any kind. Other than some varieties of wine.” Her expression was cold and unfriendly. “But a stiff drink might make me forget what a complete moron I’ve been with you.”

  “You haven’t been a moron.” With his teeth clenched, he looked away for a moment, his gaze drifting around the nearly vacant dining room. Finally he looked at Nicole again. “If either of us is a moron, it’s me.”

  “Yeah, right,” she drawled sarcastically. “I didn’t hear you saying you were crazy about someone who apparently would rather contract leprosy than fall in love.”

  Tuck’s expression turned hard. “I think this conversation is over.” The waitress delivered Tuck’s coffee and Nicole’s double martini. “Thanks,” he said to the woman.

  Nicole picked up her drink with a rebellious expression. “You think all you have to do is say ‘I think this conversation is over,’ and that’s the end of it. You really have an ego, don’t you? Maybe that’s your problem, Hannigan. Maybe you think you’re so much better than anyone else, you can’t bring your own self-esteem down to the level of the rest of us humans.” She took a healthy swallow. “You’ve probably never been in love,” she added disdainfully.

 

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