Dangerous Disguise

by Marie Ferrarella

  “If you ask me, you’re already restored.”

  “Please?”

  Maren sighed. She knew she should just leave. It was late and there was a full day ahead of her, not the least of which involved finalizing plans for a wedding reception that was going to be held in their upstairs banquet room a week from Saturday.

  But she hadn’t been able to sleep when he’d called her and something told her she wouldn’t get to sleep easily once she went home. She might as well stay here for a few more minutes. Maybe verbally define their respective roles in regard to one another.

  Sinking back into the seat she’d never fully vacated, she fixed him with a long look. “You’re a very strange man, Jared Stevens.”

  For some reason the sound of the phony name grated on his nerves. “I know a lot of people who would agree with you.”

  “Female people?” The question had just popped up on its own.

  His eyes were smiling as they met hers. “Some of them.”

  She didn’t get him. Why bother trying to win her over? With his looks, he had to be fighting women off at every turn. What was his angle? Was it just that he was drawn to a challenge? Wanted what he felt he couldn’t have? Was she just a game, a prize, a carnival Kewpie doll he meant to knock down off her shelf? It made her feel better to think this way. It helped reinforce the need for her to maintain distance between them.

  “You know, a man like you, I’d think you’d have an active social life, yet every time I look, you seem to be here—” she nodded around at the kitchen “—putting in more hours than you’re being paid for.” In all honesty, he was turning out to be an excellent addition to the staff. If only he didn’t make her feel itchy.

  For a second his expression was unreadable. “Guess I’m just married to my job.” And then his eyes smiled as he watched her. “Kind of like you.” He leaned across the corner of the table, his face less than an inch from hers. “A beautiful woman like you should be out there, in the thick of it.”

  “‘It’ doesn’t appeal to me,” she informed him tersely.

  He wondered if she realized how sensual she looked, taking that stance. Things, he decided, would have gone a whole lot better for him if the woman wasn’t so damn beautiful.

  But he was having a stronger reaction to Maren than he usually had to a beautiful woman. That was the problem. And while playing up to her, he kept getting himself tangled up in his own trap.

  “And just what does appeal to you?” he asked.

  “Making something of myself. Building a career, a reputation. Making Rainbow’s End the best restaurant that I can.”

  She told him everything she’d believed to be true. Her career had meant everything to her. But in the wee hours of the morning, before the light came to chase away the shadows, something inside her whispered that work wasn’t enough.

  Something was missing.

  And Jared hit the target right on the head when he countered softly, “You can’t take that home with you at night.”

  Her eyes met his. Why was he doing this? Why was he rocking the boat? “By the time I get home at night, I’m too tired to do anything but fall into bed. I don’t need anyone else in it.”

  In his mind’s eye, he could see himself falling into bed with her, and his gut tightened in response. “Doesn’t sound like much of a life.”

  He saw temper flare in her eyes as they narrowed. “It suits me.”

  “Does it?”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to a round of ‘Truth or Dare.’”

  The smile on his lips washed over her, unsettling her even as she tried to resist its effect. “No one’s daring you, Maren.”

  She sighed. Distance, she needed distance between them. Real and otherwise. “I guess there’s no point in telling you to call me Ms. Minnesota.”

  “Not after you rescued me. In some cultures, my soul would be forever yours.” An almost irresistible smile curved his mouth. “Tell you what, we’ll compromise. How does Boss Lady sound?”

  She laughed shortly. “Like a horse you’d be betting on in the third race at Santa Anita.”

  He picked up on the metaphor and extrapolated just a little. “Is it a sure thing?” He knew he wanted it to be. Somehow, somewhere, someday, they were going to be together, he promised himself. He needed it to be true in order to continue.

  Her eyes held his for a long moment. “Nothing’s a sure thing.”

  But this was, he promised himself. She just didn’t know it yet. “That’s all right—” he leaned in closer to her “—I like taking risks.”

  His mouth was inches from hers.

  Her heart had scrambled up into her throat. Any second now, she was going to give in. To him and to herself.

  She couldn’t allow that to happen. She’d let him kiss her on the beach because she’d been vulnerable. It had been Melissa’s birthday and she had been fighting an ache in her soul. But there was no excuse to hide behind tonight. Kissing him tonight would be an admission that she knowingly wanted this. Wanted him.

  With effort, she got to her feet, creating space between them. “Well, I don’t like taking risks.”

  The look in his eyes told her he knew better. Jared got up from the table, as well. “Can’t grow if you don’t risk.”

  “I take enough risks when I’m at work.” She meant in hiring him, in attempting new things, in expanding the restaurant. There were no personal risks because those hurt too much.

  Jared pretended to look around the kitchen. “This is where you work.” The implication was clear. He was egging her on to take a real risk, one that involved something beyond the restaurant.

  “Jared—” There was a warning note in her voice.

  Jared lifted both hands up in surrender. “Backing off,” he told her.

  For now, he added silently. But he had a feeling that the longer he was here, the harder time he would have backing off.

  Though the image definitely did not jibe with the one he normally had of himself, he felt like an iron filing struggling against a giant magnet. But the closer the magnet came, the harder it was to keep from pressing against it.

  Once he drained the last of his coffee, he set the cup down again. It was time to get the conversation onto neutral ground before he succeeded in scaring her away. “You really should have that lock fixed.”

  “Yes. Especially since I broke it getting you out,” she said.

  Because he was still attempting to entrench himself at Rainbow’s End, he made her an offer. “If you like, I can take a look at it.”

  “You fix locks?” she asked, surprised.

  Actually he picked them. He knew how to get into almost any locked area, provided that the security code wasn’t overly elaborate. When it came to tumblers and the like, he’d known his way around those ever since he was fourteen. Reversing the process couldn’t be too difficult, he judged.

  “Sometimes,” he answered.

  “Just what exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that if it’s not overly complicated, I can probably get it in proper working order and you don’t have to pay some technician with a logo sewn on his breast pocket an arm and a leg for doing something that in reality takes about half an hour.”

  He was trying to impress her, she decided. Maren fixed him with a look. “If you think you can—”

  He was quick to interrupt her. “I always think I can.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. She couldn’t begin to figure him out. One moment he was sweet, the next, he was some Romeo, coming on to her. The only thing that remained constant was that she was attracted to him. And didn’t want to be. Didn’t want that breath-taking feeling, that rush that always accompanied that attraction. There was always a downside, a payback to worry about. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

  The smile he gave her told her that he knew this already.

  Jared picked up both empty cups and took them over to the large sink where the vegetables were rinsed before being pressed int
o service. He washed out both cups.

  “I’ll bring tools tomorrow,” he promised.

  She picked up her purse, ready to leave. If she was lucky, she might be able to get six hours’ sleep before she had to come in. “Get your jacket.”

  He dried his hands on a towel that was hanging beside the drainboard. “I can lock up.”

  Maren went immediately on alert. “You know the security code?”

  “No, I meant I could lock the doors.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, guess I’m not a hundred percent yet.”

  That had been a slip, Jared upbraided himself. He never made slips. Being around her was definitely undermining his mental faculties. He had to stop thinking of her as a woman and focus on the reason he was here. Easier said than done, he thought, slanting a glance at her. He’d obviously roused her out of bed and she still looked better than most women did after half an hour’s worth of makeup application.

  She watched him uneasily. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to the E.R., have you checked out?”

  “For what, frostbite?” he teased. “I told you. Nothing fell off. Everything’s working. You got here just in time.” He turned suddenly and wound up a hairbreadth away from her. “Did I thank you for coming?”

  Why did the air in her lungs stop moving when he looked at her like that? Why did she keep gazing at his lips and reliving the moment when time had abruptly stood still on the beach?

  She couldn’t get involved with an employee, she silently insisted. Couldn’t get involved with him even if he wasn’t working here. Couldn’t get involved with anyone, period. She just didn’t want to put up with the hassles, the grief that waited for her at every turn.

  “I had to come,” she finally said, forcing the words to her lips. “Couldn’t very well have my assistant chef turn into an icicle, now could I? Besides, Max would start in again about how overworked he was. I couldn’t stand listening to that again.”

  Humor curved his mouth again as he walked with her to the front door. “So you saved me because of Max.”

  Her shrug was casual. “Among other things.”

  He caught her hand. They stopped just short of the front entrance. “You know how I kept myself warm in there while I was waiting for you to come open the door?”

  She did her best to sound flippant. “Do I want to know this?”

  He didn’t rise to the bait. “I thought about you. The way you looked on the beach while you were talking to me.”

  “I really wish you’d forget about that.”

  “Too late.” He took a step toward her. Feeling things far beyond what he knew he should be feeling. Things that took him far beyond the safety line. “What are you afraid of, Boss Lady?”

  Her tongue tried to moisten lips drier than sand. “Smooth-talking employees who don’t know when to back off.”

  His eyes never left hers. Why this woman? something whispered inside of him. Why now?

  “And that would be me?”

  “That would be you.” She let him open the door and then she slipped out. Standing on the other side of the threshold, she waited for him to cross.

  There was no arguing with the look in her eyes.

  She’d bought them both a respite. But it was only a small one. And they both knew that, too. The inevitability of what lay ahead loomed on the horizon. Close enough to touch.

  Chapter 8

  Jared came in the following morning at eight. Max opened the door for him. The corpulent chef, newly divorced, was just finishing up his breakfast and not in the best of moods. Jared went to his workstation and began the careful task of preparing for another day. He got off at six tonight and would check in with Abe Glassel at the precinct at six-thirty. For the time being, until he resolved a few issues, he decided to keep last night’s incident to himself.

  Though his external, easygoing manner didn’t change—he’d offered a smile when confronted with Max’s scowl—he was even more vigilant today, his awareness so heightened it felt like the point of a freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil.

  After last night’s mishap, everyone was under suspicion. Now more than ever he couldn’t afford to rule anyone out. Not even Maren. The fact bothered him more than just on a professional level.

  Stirring, Jared added just the right amount of chicken stock to the boiling water. He turned the flame down beneath the large pot, allowing the contents to simmer as he continued stirring. At the table beside him was an array of vegetables April had prepared for him to add to the water once it was ready.

  Someone had seen him at Joe’s computer last night. There was no doubt about that.

  The doubt came in as to who it had been and why they hadn’t just gotten rid of him. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but why leave him alive? Was putting him in the refrigerator to be taken as a warning to back off? They could have just as easily killed him and gotten rid of the body. Or put him into the freezer for that matter. Odds were more than likely that he would have frozen to death before he’d had a chance to come to.

  For that matter, why had they left his cell phone on his person? He knew that the assailant had gone through his wallet. One of the credit cards the department had issued in his fake name was out of place. He’d deliberately arranged the cards in a certain order and one card was not where it should have been. It was fair to speculate that whoever had hit him in the back of the head was trying to find out if he was who he said he was.

  Were they satisfied that was the case? There hadn’t been anything on his person to link him to the real reason he was here. But then, why put him in the refrigerator at all?

  Pausing to taste the soup base, he decided it needed more stock before he added anything else to it. Jared reached for the container and measured out just under half a cup.

  Just who the hell was he dealing with? he wondered. Robin Hood?

  “You’re looking very pensive today, Jared. Planning to spring another surprise on us?”

  He looked up from the pot he was stirring to see that Joe Collins stood next to him. The clatter and chatter in the kitchen had masked his steps. An enigmatic smile graced the older man’s lips. Was there some kind of hidden meaning behind his words? Or was he just getting too damn paranoid?

  “What?

  At six-three the accountant was only slightly taller than he was. Their eyes were almost level as they met.

  Joe nodded toward the pot. “Something new? Maren tells me that one of your dishes found its way to the menu already. Very enterprising.” He inclined his head, his eyes indicating the aproned man at the other stove. “Just make sure that Max doesn’t feel threatened. He gets very temperamental when he thinks someone is after his job.”

  Jared appreciated the opening. He’d exchanged only a handful of words with Joe so far. There really wasn’t much reason for an assistant chef to talk to an accountant he hardly knew. But this gave him an opportunity to get a more intimate perspective on the man.

  “Is that what happened to the last assistant chef?” Jared asked innocently.

  Joe moved out of the way as Jared reached for the bowl of diced carrots. “We’re really not sure what happened to Emil. One day, he was here. The next, he was calling in his notice. Said he had a better job.” When Jared glanced at him, the older man shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Why?”

  Joe’s blue eyes crinkled as he gestured around the area. “What could be better than working here?” Then Joe patted him on the shoulder, his hamlike hand coming down just a tad hard. “Keep up the good work. Maren is very impressed with you. So’s Mr. Shepherd.” He winked before walking off. “Always a good thing to stay on his good side.”

  “Thanks.” Jared deposited the shelled peas, stirring as the tiny bright green globes hit the shimmering liquid. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  As he watched Joe, the other man crossed the kitchen as if in search of someone. He stopped abruptly when he saw one of the busboys. The older man’s expression never changed, b
ut after listening to what Eduardo had to say, Joe beckoned the young man over to the side by the sink. Out of sight.

  Turning down the flame still further, Jared quickly grabbed the two bowls he’d just emptied and moved over to the sink. Instead of depositing the bowls, he began to wash them. Slowly. Straining his ears to hear above the soft steady stream of water.

  Joe and Eduardo were several feet away from him. Because their voices were low, he couldn’t hear what was being said, but he saw Joe hand the busboy several folded bills. At first, the latter seemed reluctant to accept, but Joe took Eduardo’s hand and pressed the money into it.

  Just what was it that he was witnessing? Was Joe paying Eduardo off for his silence about something?

  He heard the soft sigh behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Maren. Even if his senses hadn’t been sharpened because of last night, everything within him seemed to be completely in tune to her presence.

  “He’s a soft touch. Always has been.”

  When he turned toward her, Maren was watching Joe and the busboy, shaking her head. But there was no recrimination in her voice, only pride. She witnessed the busboy hurrying away, gratitude shining on his face even at this distance.

  “Papa Joe can’t seem to walk away from anyone’s tale of woe.” Her mouth curved fondly as she spoke about the man who had raised her. “If I didn’t stop him, he probably would have given away his house by now.”

  Leaving the bowls to dry, Jared wiped his hands off on his apron. “He’s a rare guy.”

  “Yes,” she said in a tone he couldn’t quite read. “He is.”

  As Joe turned to walk to his office, he glanced toward them and saw Maren.

  Their eyes meeting, Maren crossed her arms in front of her. She slowly shook her head. It reminded Jared of his late mother whenever she was about to scold him. Joe cut across the kitchen and gave Maren’s cheek a quick kiss. The man, Jared noted, didn’t appear to be the slightest bit inhibited.