Undercover Passion

by Raye Morgan

  Why had he been so dense as to rule that sort of thing out from the first? He was losing his touch. And perhaps his mind. “What’s in it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded again. “Okay, let me have it tested.”

  “Tested?” Without thinking, she reached out and took it from him, curling her fingers around the small jar.

  “Yes. I’d like to have it tested. Let’s find out what’s really going on.” He looked at her searchingly.

  “I don’t know,” she said, tightening her hold on it. “I—I’m not sure I should do that.”

  He was looking at her as though he couldn’t believe her first instinct wasn’t to give him anything he asked for. Didn’t he understand the problems this raised for her? This was quite a dilemma. Her first allegiance was supposed to be to the clinic, wasn’t it? And to the man who had given her a chance to prove her worth as a professional?

  And yet, she knew Daniel was right. She finally had to admit it to herself. There was something going on. She’d felt a bit strange using the NoWait oil. Now that she looked back, she knew she hadn’t been quite herself while she was taking it. And if there was anything strange, anything that might harm people, she should be among the first to warn others.

  No, her first allegiance was to the people she served. Right? And then to the clinic. And then to Daniel?

  No, come to think of it, her first allegiance had to be to herself and her own integrity. Then to—

  “Abby,” Daniel said firmly, breaking into her reverie. “Give me the oil.”

  “No,” she said just as firmly, clutching it to her chest.

  He looked exasperated. “What the hell? I can get it someplace else. I can buy it from the clinic. In fact…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a ten, slapping it down on the dresser. “Here. I’ll buy it from you. It’s already opened, so it can’t be more than this.”

  “No.” She was worried, but she was stubborn.

  “What are you talking about? You sell it to other people. Why not to me?”

  “You’re not signing up for a complete program.”

  “Oh, come on, Abby!”

  “Really. I can’t sell it to you because you want to use it in ways that I don’t approve of. You want to use it to get Dr. Richie, don’t you?”

  He stared at her in disbelief, then sat down on the edge of the bed, swearing softly.

  “I’m sorry.” She put the oil carefully in a drawer and came to sit beside him on the bed. “I’m really sorry, Daniel. I know this is a pain in the neck to you, but we both know you can get the oil somewhere else. I just can’t be the one who gave it to you. Don’t you see that?”

  He looked down at her, his gaze hard, but he didn’t say anything.

  She threw up her hands. “Okay, that does it. I’m going to make sure you get an interview with Dr. Richie. I’m sure that will clear all this up. Once you’ve talked to him, you’ll feel very differently about it all. He’ll make you understand his mission and his commitment to making better lives for people.”

  Daniel snorted at the concept, but didn’t dispute it specifically. “That’s exactly what I want—an interview with the man.”

  “Okay,” she said, speaking with a confidence she wasn’t sure she could back up. “You got it.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she put a hand on his arm.

  “Tell me what you suspect,” she said softly. “Give it to me straight. I want to hear it all.”

  Daniel stared at Abby a moment longer, then looked away.

  “Okay, Abby, here’s the deal. Something is making an awful lot of people act like lovesick fools. The evidence is everywhere.” He looked back at her. “Am I right?”

  She nodded slowly. “I didn’t believe it at first,” she said. “Even after our brunch in the cafeteria, I thought you were overstating it. But what you’d told me began to sink in and I started noticing things I’d ignored before. And I have to admit, love seems to be contagious at Portland General Hospital.”

  “And you can see that every one of those who’ve caught the virus have ties to the clinic.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know how you can say that with such certainty.”

  “When in doubt, I tend to use my common sense. And it tells me the clinic is the common denominator.”

  She couldn’t help but react defensively to that. After all, her allegiances were at stake here. But she stifled the emotional response and managed to stay calm.

  “So you think it has to be something the clinic is doling out to its clients.”

  He nodded. “Common sense.”

  “And you’ve ruled out everything but the NoWait oil.”

  He nodded again.

  She drew in a deep breath and went on. “Which means you think I was infected.”

  His eyes darkened. “I know you were.”

  She stared at him, her heart beating a fast denial, but her head unable to agree. “How can you know that?”

  “Abby, when we met, we struck sparks off each other. Then all of a sudden, you were all over me. It was classic.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing her face was turning bright red. “Ohmigod.”

  “You can’t help it,” he said gruffly. “And I know enough not to take seriously anything you do or say about me.”

  Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in astonishment. “What?”

  “Not that it hasn’t been nice having you flirt and all. I admit I’ve had my moments of wanting to respond. But all along I knew that deep down it was phony, just the virus talking, and I managed to—”

  “Daniel O’Callahan!”

  She was furious with him, appalled, and half laughing at the same time. Using both hands, she shoved him, hard. Caught off guard, he fell onto his back on the bed and stayed there.

  “Hey!”

  Moving with speed, she straddled him, her slinky gown hiked up to give her legs room.

  “You’re a fool,” she told him hotly, staring down at the man she was pretty sure she loved. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  Her hands went resolutely to the buttons of his shirt and she began to undo them.

  He tried halfheartedly to push her hands away. “Abby, what the hell are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” she challenged him. “You just hush and do what you’re told.”

  “Abby.” His hands covered hers and he looked up at her, his eyes clouded. “Please, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Daniel, I know exactly what I’m doing.” She glared down at him. “I stopped using the oil last week.”

  His face registered surprise. “You did?”

  She nodded, her gaze burning into his. “Yes. It has no effect on me now. None whatsoever.”

  He looked confused. “But—”

  She leaned down to kiss him, stopping his words, and then she didn’t want to leave him.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered very near his ear as she rubbed her cheek against his. “I know what I’m doing. I know what I want to do. And I know how I feel about you.” She dropped a kiss at his temple. “No kidding.”

  His hands caressed her, and still his face showed his reluctance. “But you know that we’re still not right for each other,” he told her when she rose again.

  She smiled at him, running her hands across his beautiful chest muscles.

  “I beg to differ.” Leaning down again, she pressed her lips to his hot skin and his arms came around her, holding her to him.

  “But we come from different walks of life,” he said, still protesting, if somewhat lamely.

  “No, we don’t.” She cast that argument aside like so much dirty laundry.

  “Yes, we do. I’m used to living among lowlifes, and you’re so…so…”

  “So boring?” she asked, laughing.

  “No, that’s not what I mean.”

  “Never mind what you mean. I just want to kiss you.”

  “Abby.”
He took her face between his hands and looked at her with longing barely leashed by his nagging reluctance. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I really can’t promise you anything.”

  She looked down at him earnestly, putting all the affection she felt for him in her gaze. “I’m a big girl, Daniel. If I get wounded, I’ll heal.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head, letting her hair swirl around them both. “Who cares!”

  He started to say something, but suddenly he was laughing instead, pulling her down into his arms and holding her tightly.

  “You’re right,” he said, his lips against hers. “Who cares?”

  Clothes came off more easily now, first his shirt, then her dress, then his slacks and her lacy underthings. He’d been aching with the need for her for days and his body was ready much too quickly, throbbing with his desire.

  He had to discipline his breathing to hold it back, had to kiss her mouth again and again to keep his from going places that would quickly rip away his mask of careful control and render him as frantic as a starved animal. Because most of all, more than his hunger, more than his deep, hot need, there was the longing to treat her the way she deserved to be treated, like a woman he could love.

  He tasted her mouth, her earlobes, her nipples. She cried out at how that felt and rubbed her body against his, looking surprised at every sensation.

  He knew she was pretty much an innocent. Not that she was clumsy about it. But everything seemed to be new to her, every touch, every exploration, the taste of his skin, the sight of his nude body, the overwhelming wave of desire that took her as he parted her legs and thrust his way inside her, the wild look in her eyes as she started up the spiral of the most intense sexual sensation.

  And then he was lost. He’d held it back as long as he was able, and now he was all plundering male taking possession of his female and staking a claim he would kill to maintain. He took her and all her beauty was his, all her sweetness, all her love. He held her, in his arms and in his heart and made her his own.

  And when it was over, they lay tangled together, catching their breath, still luxuriating in the moment. He looked at her. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. That made him smile, too.

  Lying back, he wondered what they’d done. Even if she was free of the effect of the oil, neither one of them was free of the fact that he was here under a false assumption. He was lying to her in a worse way than the oil had ever made her lie. And that was something they couldn’t wish away.

  Nine

  “Phoebe, you look so spry!”

  Abby had come up to Phoebe’s hospital room and found her just returning from a session of physical therapy. The older woman had color in her face she hadn’t seen before, and an energy to her movements that was new.

  Phoebe laughed in response. “Hand me down my dancin’ shoes, I’m ready to launch back into life.” She lowered herself a bit carefully onto the bed and the physical therapist waved from the doorway, then disappeared.

  “You’re doing great,” Abby said with genuine admiration.

  “I am, you know. I’m feeling fine, too.” She punched up her pillow and lay back against it. “If it hadn’t been for all this dumb worrying about blood clots I would have been out of here days ago.”

  “Has the doctor given you a date yet?”

  Phoebe nodded. “Day after tomorrow, if all goes well.”

  “Wonderful.” She hesitated, then went ahead and asked, “Will you be going back to your apartment?”

  She knew Phoebe had her own apartment, but that she had once lived in the house with Daniel and his brothers when they were younger. And she wondered how much Daniel had told her about the place in the retirement home he’d reserved for her.

  “Oh, Daniel wants me to come stay with him for a few days, and I suppose I might do that, as a transition back to my normal life,” she said happily. “I’ll just be so happy to get out of this place and back in the swim, I’m ready to do anything that will help that happen.”

  “Of course you are.”

  Phoebe looked around the room as though surprised to realize they were alone. “Where is Daniel? Why didn’t he come with you?”

  The question wasn’t as odd as it might seem, because Abby and Daniel had been together most of the last few days. Somehow their opera evening had opened the floodgates. Everyone was still smiling when they came down the hall, only now they were smiling with the indulgent smirks people got when witnessing a couple obviously smitten with each other.

  Tonight Daniel was coming with her to a seminar she’d been promoting heavily all week. “Love is what you make of it” was the topic. Dr. Richie planned to corral all this blooming love he saw going on around him and talk about finding that perfect someone, choosing the right life partner, recognizing real love as opposed to instant lust. Abby was looking forward to seeing Daniel’s reaction to the subject. And, truth to tell, she was wondering what her own would be.

  Was she in love? All the signs pointed that way as far as she could tell. She’d never felt this way before. Never. And she was so happy, it was positively scary.

  “I finally set up an interview for him with Dr. Richie,” she said. “He’s there right now. I hope it’s going well.”

  “Of course it is. Daniel will do what’s right.”

  “I’m sure he will.” But Abby was frowning, and she had her fingers crossed.

  “Well, this will give me a chance to talk to you about my cruise,” Phoebe said, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe you can help me with some of the planning.”

  Abby bit her lip, wondering if she should get in the middle of this one. “Daniel is worried about you trying to take that cruise,” she said tentatively. “He can’t go with you and he doesn’t think you’ll be safe.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “He is such a dear boy, but he doesn’t understand. I have to do this.”

  She smiled at Abby and patted her hand. “You know, my husband Howard and I used to go up to Alaska on the Northbound Queen once a year. We had a trip planned when he passed away suddenly.”

  She stopped for a moment, her gaze distant, as though recalling the horror of that day.

  “I cancelled that one,” she said, going on. “But I’d always planned to go again, just so that I could say a proper goodbye to the man who loved me so dearly all those years.”

  She squeezed Abby’s hand, conveying her emotion. “And now I’m pretty sure if I don’t go, I won’t have another chance.” Her voice was choked, but she went on. “And I must go. It feels sort of like Howard is out there, waiting for me. Can you understand that, Abby? I really have to go.”

  Abby’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded wordlessly. She understood, and she sympathized. Somehow she had to make sure that Phoebe got her chance to say good-bye to her Howard. But was there any way to make Daniel accept that?

  Daniel stared across the desk at Dr. Richie and tried not to show his distaste for the man. There was something a little too slick about him, a little too soft, a little too evasive. He’d started out asking him questions about his childhood and schooling, but the doctor was talking in circles around every subject he brought up.

  “Look,” Daniel said at last, impatiently. “I’m sure I can get all your official background stuff from Abby. What I really want from you is the straight scoop on the NoWait oil.”

  Whoa. That certainly brought on an undeniable reaction. If he didn’t know better, he would have said the doctor was suddenly quivering with alarm.

  “What are you talking about?” the man snapped, his gaze shifting to the door as though he wanted to keep an escape route handy.

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “I just want the usual product information. How did you develop it? Where did you get it? What’s the formula? Where is it made?”

  Dr. Richie bristled. “That is all privileged information. You can’t have that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Daniel leaned forward. “Then how about this. Have you applied for a patent? Got
ten approval from the FDA? What kind of credentials does your oil have?”

  Dr. Richie looked like a cornered animal. “You have no right to ask these questions.”

  “It seems to me these things should be public record.” Daniel’s head went back. “But I’ll have to check with City Hall on that.”

  He realized suddenly that he was doing this questioning like a cop instead of the journalist he was supposed to be. He’d better cool it. This third-degree stuff was only likely to get the man to clam up. Maybe if he could get a little more touchy-feely… He gritted his teeth, but he tried it.

  “Look, I know it must be hard for you. You carry the hopes and dreams of so many people on your shoulders. They come to you looking for a change in their lives and expect you to deliver. You’re supposed to be the answer to their prayers. And then you developed this product that seems to be working for a lot of people. That must give you a lot of satisfaction.”

  Dr. Richie’s eyes were still clouded with suspicion. “It does indeed,” he said carefully. “I’m quite proud of the NoWait oil. I stand behind it, one hundred percent.”

  “Have you ever used it yourself?”

  The man frowned. “Look, I know you’re supposed to be a friend of Abby’s and I’m meeting with you on that understanding. Why am I getting the impression you’re hostile to me and my work?”

  “I’m not hostile.”

  “You’re coming across as hostile.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.” He gave a crooked grin, forced but amiable enough. “It’s just my manner. I can’t help it, really. Maybe it’s my unhappy childhood.”

  Dr. Richie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No doubt. I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had trouble in your past. Perhaps that might make you more tolerant of others.”

  The touchy-feely method worked its magic. The doctor didn’t really like him any better, but he did launch into a long explanation of his past and how he’d developed into a world-famous TV personality. The problem was, the more he talked, the less Daniel felt he knew. The man went round and round in circles, using a lot of words and saying virtually nothing of substance. Daniel’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. All he was getting was useless fluff, so he was actually relieved when the doctor tired of it all.