The Seduction of Goody Two-Shoes
Page 22
She didn’t have it in her to be dramatic. She was simply…Ellie, straightforward and inexorable as rain, standing in the middle of his room with the papers in her hands, looking at him. Just…looking at him. Then at last, in a cracking voice, she said, “Why, McCall?”
He gave a deep sigh. Defeated and heavy, he nodded at the papers in her hands. “Your father’s articles, I suppose. He did a whole series on me, back then. I gave Mike Lanagan the story because he was the only one I trusted to tell it right.” He felt his face stretch unevenly with his smile. “Just thought you’d like to know that…”
She nodded, taking the compliment for granted, and then said it again, this time in a whisper. “Why, McCall? Why couldn’t you just have told me?”
“That I’m the notorious whistle-blower, you mean? The man who single-handedly destroyed one of the oldest and largest auto makers in the world, sent the U.S. economy into a tailspin and put thousands of people out of work?” He spoke the exaggeration sardonically, and watched her eyes glaze suddenly with tears.
“But you were a hero.”
He gave a mild snort. “Not everybody saw it that way. I think it was Mike Wallace on 60 Minutes who first called me ‘The Most Hated Man in America.”’
“But thousands of people would have died if you hadn’t done what you did!”
His smile was gentle as he shrugged. “Nevertheless. I broke the rules. Betrayed the code of honor. Became a snitch. Ratted on my bosses…my co-workers.”
She held out the papers, and they rattled faintly in her shaking hands. “It says here you lost everything-your job…your home…your wife. I just find that…so hard to believe.”
“Believe it,” he said softly. “It happened.”
“But why did you leave?” she cried. “It would have blown over-those things always do.”
He made an angry gesture with his hand, then corraled it, pressing it between his injured arm and his tense and quaking body. “For the rest of the country maybe-not for me. Maybe I was a coward, I don’t know. But I didn’t want ever to go back-not to that life. Not to the business world. Not ever.”
“I’d never ask you to-” Her voice broke. Then, for a long time there was silence, except for labored breathing and charging heartbeats.
McCall listened to the echoes of her words, considered all their possible implications, and finally said in a gentle voice he could barely hear above the rushing, pounding rhythms of his own pulse, “I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”
“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. Her chin jerked upward, and he felt a sudden guilty jolt of joy. “I may be small, but I’m not a child, McCall. And I meant what I said the other night-I know all I need to know about you. I didn’t need these-” disdainfully, she hurled the sheets of paper from her, and they drifted across the floor like wind-blown leaves “-to tell me who you are. I already know what kind of man you are. I know-” She stopped, suddenly looking trapped and scared.
“What do you know?” He stepped closer to her, holding himself together with tightly folded arms.
“I-uh…” She closed her eyes, but even so he could see her woman’s heart doing battle with her proud and competitive nature. “I know I…um.”
“I don’t have anything to offer you,” he said quietly, taking pity on her. “You know, I’m basically a beach bum. I have a house and a kinkajou. I paint pictures for tourists…”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” She was angry now, and her eyes were shooting out red-hot cinnamon sparks. “Who you are’s got nothing to do with what you do, or how much you have, McCall, don’t you know that? It’s because of who you are that I…” And again she stopped, closing panic-stricken eyes.
He gave her a moment, then said gently, “One of us has to say it first-” just as she was finishing it in a sighing, “-love…you.”
Her eyes popped open. She blinked and whispered, “You mean you-”
“Yeah,” he breathed, trying hard to smile and getting cramps in his jaws instead. “Me, too. Actually, I think it must have been love at first sight. You know, there had to be some reason I kept feeling a need to save your-” She did have the most appealing way of shutting him up.
Sometime later, when he was able to think and breathe again, he mumbled into her soft, cinnamon hair, “I meant what I said, you know. I haven’t got a thing-except my pride, and I’ve got way too much of that to let the woman I love support me. But I sure don’t see myself going back to wearing a suit and tie, even if the suit-and-tie-world would have me back.”
“I’d never want you to go back,” Ellie declared, leaning back a little in order to look into his tired, honest eyes. “I meant that, too. As far as I’m concerned, you can go right on doing what you were doing before you met me-well, mostly…” She tried to tease him with a smile, but he was shaking his head. His eyes held a hint of sadness that tore at her heart.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said wryly. “From what I’ve heard, in jail or not, seems like our old buddy the general still has some pretty powerful friends in this part of the world. Somehow, I don’t think Mexico’s going to be a very healthy place for me from now on.”
“So? There are lots of other beaches…” But an idea was forming in the outer reaches of her mind…just a disturbance at first, but rapidly taking shape and gathering strength, soon to become the unstoppable force of nature her family and close friends had sometimes referred to as Hurricane Ellie. “Don’t worry about that-we’ll think of something.” Her lashes lowered as she uncurled her fingers and slowly spread them across the muscles of his chest. Her voice turned soft and sultry. “Meanwhile…”
To her utter delight, he was way ahead of her. “Meanwhile-” looking stern, he drew himself up and folded his arms across his chest “-you and I have some unfinished business, sister.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” But her heart was already beating hard and fast, and warmth was pooling low in her body. She felt soft and sweet and gooey, like melted chocolate.
“Weren’t you supposed to be seducing me? Before you chickened out…Miss Goody-”
“Hey-who’re you calling Goody Two-Shoes?”
Her fingers dealt swiftly with the buttons of his borrowed jeans; her hands slipped inside the waistband and deftly shucked them down. At the same time she leaned hard against him, pushing him back…then down onto the bed. A sweet, uniquely feminine triumph filled her when she heard him gasp. And then, for quite a while, no one said anything. At least, not in words.
Until sometime later, when Ellie lifted her head and purred, “Now then…tell me the truth, McCall. Would Goody Two-Shoes do that?”
Epilogue
“A toast-to the newest undercover operative of the USFWS!”
Ellie lifted her bottle of pulque. With a lazy smile, her husband did the same. There was a tiny clink as the two bottles met, then a soft chuckle and a sigh. For a moment they were both silent, watching the sunlight play on the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, reveling in the feel of a warm autumn breeze.
Then McCall said, “And here’s to our first assignment together. I can’t believe they’ve agreed to let us be partners.”
“Well,” said Ellie a trifle smugly, “I do have a few connections, you know. One, anyway.” She took a satisfying sip of pulque-she really had developed a taste for the stuff. “I must say, it was nice of Uncle Rhett to pull strings for us-especially considering he’s only got a couple more months to be President of the United States.” She gave a little shiver of anticipation. “I can’t wait to get this new operation started. Malaysia-wow. I’ve always wanted to go to Malaysia. I can’t wait to go after this ring-imagine killing Sumatran tigers, one of the most endangered animals on the planet-and selling the body parts for medicine!”
“Could be dangerous,” McCall said, carefully not looking at her. He knew he was going to have to keep a lid on his protective instincts where she was concerned, to some extent, anyway. But he was learning to trust the instin
cts and resourcefulness of his Cinnamon Girl.
“Hey-” Ellie said, jumping to her feet and reaching for his hand, “I’ve got a surprise for you-well, for us, actually. Sort of a combination graduation and anniversary present. Close your eyes. And no peeking…
“…there, now. What do you think?”
McCall opened his eyes cautiously, one at a time. “A hammock,” he said woodenly, after a moment or two of futilely hoping he was seeing things.
“Straight from the Yucatan,” she said gleefully. “I had the consul’s wife get it for me in Merida. Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah, great,” muttered McCall. “Reminds me of a giant spiderweb.”
“I know you said you don’t care for hammocks,” his wife said, giving him a sideways look he’d come to respect-for its sheer stubbornness, if nothing else. Then her voice dropped to a new register, one that never failed to start his pulse hammering and make his blood heat up and all his objections melt away. “But I think that’s just because you didn’t have the right hammock.”
“I see,” he said huskily. “And what makes this one the right hammock, if I may ask?”
“It’s got me,” she said sweetly.
He snorted, knowing full well the effect his scepticism always had on her contrary spirit. “Big deal. You can’t make love in a hammock.”
“Wanna bet? Come ’ere, Mr. Two-Shoes, and let me show you how it’s done…”
He watched the smile he’d been waiting for break like a sunrise across her face. And taking a long deep breath, he drank in pure happiness…and the sweet scent of orange blossoms.
KATHLEEN CREIGHTON
has roots deep in the California soil but has relocated to South Carolina. As a child, she enjoyed listening to old timers’ tales, and her fascination with the past only deepened as she grew older. Today, she says she is interested in everything-art, music, gardening, zoology, anthropology and history-but people are at the top of her list. She also has a lifelong passion for writing, and now combines her two loves in romance novels.
***
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