Hero in Disguise

by Wilkins, Gina

  Summer jumped and covered her mouth in consternation, her eyes locking with Derek’s.

  “My God, there’s someone in there,” Connie whispered, her own green eyes huge. “We should call the police.”

  “Just a minute,” Derek whispered distractedly, looking back toward the doorway.

  Summer watched as he flattened himself against the door, obviously preparing to go in. She did not miss the way his right hand slipped inside his jacket, almost as if by instinct. The hand came away empty as a look of impatience crossed his face. Then he eased the door all the way open.

  “Derek, no!” Summer whispered frantically, moving impulsively to stop him from going in. He shot her a look that plastered her back against the wall, her heart in her throat. Blindly she reached for Connie’s hand as Derek slipped inside the dark apartment.

  Oh, Derek, be careful, Summer pleaded silently. Oh, God, don’t let anything happen to Derek.

  She had never been so frightened in her life, not even when she’d been hit by the car five years earlier. Only her life had been at stake then. This was Derek in possible danger, and she would willingly give both her legs to keep him safe.

  She had known that she loved him. She was only now realizing how deeply that love had planted itself within her. How desperately she needed him. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself enough to think of some way to help him. She was afraid to leave her position in the hallway long enough to make a call for help, terrified that something would happen to Derek if she moved.

  Long moments of silence passed. And then a muffled exclamation, a grunt and a crash sounded from inside the apartment.

  Connie squealed in fear and dropped Summer’s icy hand. They looked at each other for a fraction of a second, then moved in mutual agreement toward the apartment door.

  Summer groped for the light switch. When the light came on, she and Connie both gasped at the sight of Derek dragging a large, raggedly dressed, prostrate body from Connie’s bedroom.

  He dropped the intruder in the middle of the floor, then looked at Summer and Connie. He staggered as two soft forms flung themselves at him, both holding on to him as if belatedly trying to protect him from harm.

  “Derek, did you kill him?” Connie breathed, staring down at the man at their feet even as she maintained her grip around her brother’s neck.

  “No, of course I didn’t kill him,” Derek answered impatiently, trying to disentangle himself from the women clinging to him. “He’s just unconscious. Connie, call the police.”

  As if he hadn’t spoken, Connie put her fists on her hips and planted herself squarely in front of him. “Derek Anderson, that was the most stupid, asinine, ridiculously macho stunt I have ever seen! Are you crazy, waltzing into an apartment where you know there’s a burglar? What were you trying to do, impress your girlfriend like some show-off teenager? Why didn’t you just do handstands in the parking lot? Don’t you know this sleaze bag could have killed you?”

  “Connie, would you please shut up and call the police?”

  “No, I will not! I’m not finished with you yet! What if he had…”

  As Connie continued to berate her brother, Summer stepped carefully over the unconscious body of the would-be burglar, walked to the telephone and dialed the number of the police station, a number she’d carefully memorized but had never needed before now.

  When she hung up, she looked around the apartment, finding her portable television, Connie’s stereo, a camera and some jewelry piled on the living room floor. “He was really going to rip us off!” she exclaimed indignantly.

  “No kidding,” Derek responded in exasperation, ignoring the fact that Connie was still raging on at him without even pausing for breath. “Lord, how have the two of you managed to live here for almost a year without this happening before? No security in the building, locks on your door that wouldn’t keep out a five-year-old delinquent. This guy probably had the door open in less-than a minute. If I hadn’t been with you, the two of you would have just walked right in on him.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what you just did?” Connie demanded, his criticism setting her off again. “Of all the dumb, stupid, irresponsible…”

  Ignoring his sister, Derek threw a dark look at Summer. “The police will be here soon. Go throw some things in a bag. You’re spending the night at my place. I’ll have new locks installed here tomorrow.”

  Summer almost bristled at his tone, but remembering how frightened she had been for him, she only nodded and turned toward her bedroom. She really didn’t want to stay here tonight, anyway, she told herself logically, stuffing jeans and a shirt into an overnight bag. Even if the apartment were double-locked and guarded by Mr. T, she’d rather sleep in Derek’s arms.

  In the other room she heard Derek inform Connie that she, too, would be spending the night at Derek’s house.

  “But, Derek, Joel’s going to be here in a few minutes to take me out,” she heard Connie argue.

  “Tell him to drive you to my place when the evening’s over,” Derek answered with exaggerated patience. “Unless you spend the night at his house, in which case I want you to call me.”

  “I am not a teenager!” Connie shouted. “And besides, our relationship is not at that stage.”

  “Your relationships usually reach that stage as soon as the guy’s finger touches your doorbell.”

  “Of all the—”

  “Would you two please stop it?” Summer yelled, throwing her makeup case into the overnight bag. “Haven’t we had enough violence for one night? Connie, pack some clothes. I’ll take them on to Derek’s.”

  The police arrived, took a statement from Derek with brisk efficiency and hauled their dazed burglar away. “The guy was a total amateur,” Derek muttered disgustedly. “Probably a junkie.”

  “Yeah, and what if he’d been wired and armed?” Connie demanded, his words reminding her that she was still angry at him for risking his safety.

  “Very few small-time burglars carry weapons, Connie,” Derek explained with strained patience. “If they get caught, the possession of a weapon makes their offense much more serious.”

  “But you didn’t know he was unarmed,” Connie argued. “He could have been a professional.”

  “In this place?” Derek gestured around the apartment. “Give me a break.”

  “Well, thanks a lot.”

  Summer suddenly laughed, drawing two pairs of eyes to her face in question. “Connie, would you listen to yourself?” she asked in unexpected amusement. “You sound just like Derek when he’s giving one of his lectures. If it was him talking to you like that, you’d go into orbit.”

  Connie bit her lip, her green eyes beginning to sparkle. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I do sound like Derek.” She glanced sheepishly at her brother. “I was only yelling at you because you scared me half to death,” she told him. “You make me mad as hell, but you’re my brother and I love you. I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  Derek’s face softened as he looked at her. “I love you, too, Connie. Let’s start over, shall we? As adults.”

  Connie stepped into her brother’s open arms and hugged him fervently. “Yes, let’s,” she agreed, her voice suspiciously thick before she cleared it and stepped back.

  Derek glanced over at Summer, who was smiling mistily at her best friend and her lover. “Still teaching object lessons, Summer-love?” he murmured quietly.

  “I guess it’s becoming a habit,” she replied, meeting his look with love in her eyes. They still had things to work out between them, but at last she was fully convinced that a solution was possible for them.

  The only important thing was that Derek was safe, and he loved her. And she loved him. Anything was possible.

  12

  DEREK INSISTED that he and Summer would stay in the apartment until Joel arrived to pick up Connie. Connie made a token protest, but it wasn’t hard to see that she was rather reluctant to stay alone in the apartment with its broken lock. Derek
checked the locks on the windows while they waited, grumbling the entire time about the shabby security provided by their apartment. “I’ll have to have every lock in the apartment replaced,” he muttered.

  “Did it ever occur to you that we’re quite capable of having our own locks replaced?” Connie asked sarcastically, sitting on the couch with her feet propped on the coffee table in front of her as she watched Derek take his survey.

  Her brother gave her a withering look and walked into her bedroom to examine her windows, having already dismissed Summer’s.

  “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with that man?” Connie demanded of her roommate.

  Summer giggled. “Hard to imagine, isn’t it? But yes, as a matter of fact, I’m sure.”

  “Well, all I can say is that I’m glad Joel’s not the bossy type. At least he won’t yell at me for being the innocent victim of an attempted robbery,” Connie proclaimed loftily.

  Joel arrived shortly afterward, his thick black hair windblown, as if he’d been in a great rush. He apologized profusely to Connie for being late, so courteous and attentive that Summer could see Connie falling even harder for him right on the spot.

  “Wait until I tell you about the excitement you missed,” Connie told Joel after he had greeted Summer and Derek.

  “What excitement?” he asked indulgently, smiling down at her.

  Connie rapidly told him about the burglar they had surprised when they’d returned from Halloran House.

  “What?”

  Connie and Summer blinked at the unexpected roar from the man who’d been so quiet and amiable until now. Summer could have sworn she heard Derek chuckle.

  “Joel—” Connie began questioningly, but his words cut her off.

  “You mean you would have just walked right in on the guy if Derek hadn’t been here to stop you?” Joel demanded, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t you ever check your door when you return from someplace? What would you have done if the door had been standing wide open? Just come on in?”

  Connie’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. “Hey! Derek was the one who just walked right in!”

  “Derek is fully capable of taking care of himself,” Joel returned immediately, brushing off the implication that Derek had behaved at all unwisely. “But you and Summer are another story. Don’t you know that the locks in this place wouldn’t—”

  “Wouldn’t keep out a five-year-old delinquent,” Connie quoted her brother, turning a comically resigned face toward Summer. “I’ve heard this speech already tonight.”

  “Well, you’re going to hear it again,” Joel promised her. “This is a big city, Connie. Two women living alone have to be careful. I’m only telling you this because I care about what happens to you.”

  Summer was giggling when Joel and Connie left. Connie looked so stunned as she meekly accompanied Joel out the door.

  “Don’t forget to let me know something about tonight,” Derek threw after her.

  Connie glared back at him over her shoulder.

  Ah, well, Summer thought in resignation. As Derek had pointed out earlier, miracles did not happen in one night. Still, she thought the Andersons were well on their way to redefining their relationship, even to becoming friends.

  And now she and Derek had to work out their own problems. Maybe now that she was beginning to understand him a little better, the reasons behind his seemingly compulsive advice-giving…

  Watching Derek wearily massaging the back of his neck with one hand, Summer suddenly frowned as a vivid memory flashed through her mind. Derek flattening himself against the door of the apartment. His hand sliding under his jacket. She’d seen that particular gesture in enough television cop shows to know what it meant.

  She thought of the scar on his shoulder. The air of command that came so naturally to him.

  “What is it, Summer?” Derek asked, watching her watching him.

  “What exactly did you do for the government, Derek?” she questioned him in an odd voice.

  He went still. “Why do you ask that now?”

  Tilting her head to search his face, she thought of another question she suddenly wanted answered. “Just how did you get that scar on your shoulder?”

  He sighed but replied honestly. “I was shot. Three years ago, in Beirut.”

  She swallowed. “Then you really weren’t teasing—”

  “When I told you I was a spy? No.”

  “My God.” She was stunned. How could she not have known?

  His mouth twisted. “I was really more of a courier than a spy,” he explained. “I carried things—messages, money, papers, sometimes weapons—into usually hostile territory. Often there were those who wanted to, er, intercept what I carried or prevent it from reaching its destination. That’s how I was shot.”

  “And that’s what you meant by not knowing whether you would be around to see your sister grown up,” Summer clarified.

  “Yes.” He stood very still, allowing her to absorb the new information about him in her own way.

  “Connie doesn’t know, does she?”

  “No.”

  “Your parents?”

  “My father knows. We decided that Mom would worry too much if she knew the truth, though I think she’s always suspected. And Connie, well, Connie talks too much sometimes. It was better if she didn’t know the whole story.”

  “And just why didn’t you tell me, Derek?” Summer asked heatedly. “Just what excuse do you have for not telling me?”

  He looked surprised that she was so angry. “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “Didn’t think it was important?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You made me tell you every detail of my life for the past twenty-five years, but you didn’t think it was important for me to know that the man I thought was a harmless diplomatic attaché was actually a secret agent?”

  “Summer, I would have told you eventually. Soon.”

  “You had plenty of opportunity. Dammit, we even joked about it. I can understand why you didn’t tell me that first night, but why not later, after we’d become … involved?”

  “All right, I didn’t want to tell you,” he snapped. “I didn’t want you to fall for me because you thought I was a movie hero like the guy you described the night we met. If that’s what you were really looking for, then I’m the wrong man because all I intend to be from now on is an ordinary businessman, just as you thought I was all along.”

  “In other words, you thought that I was empty-headed enough to fall head over heels in love with you just because I would have been impressed with your courage and your daring?” she asked coldly. “That I would think you were a romantic James Bond, who’d sweep me right off my feet?”

  He flushed uncomfortably. “No, that’s not what I thought. Well, maybe I felt that way at first, but—dammit, Summer, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, all right? But now you know. Does it really make any difference to you?”

  She looked at him, long and hard, reading the anxiety in his eyes, the weariness in the lines around his mouth. And she loved him so much she ached. She sighed. “No.”

  His expression softened. “Summer…”

  She had no intention of making it too easy for him. “I’ll get my things and Connie’s,” she informed him, backing away from his outstretched arms. “I’m tired and I’m ready to get out of here tonight. That broken door makes me nervous.”

  “You don’t have to be nervous while I’m here,” Derek told her impatiently.

  She shot him a pointed look. “I can’t tell you how comforting that is,” she murmured, taking great pleasure in the small revenge.

  He scowled and shut up.

  “WHY DONT YOU take Connie’s things on into the guest room,” Derek suggested to Summer as they entered his house. “I’ll pour us a drink. I have a feeling we’re going to need one.”

  “Fine,” she said, leaving her own things in the den with him. She had no intention of sharing the guest room
with Connie that night, though she planned to make Derek crawl a little before she pounced on him. She figured he needed it. One thing about these hero-types, she thought smugly, they tended to be a bit overconfident.

  When she returned to the den, Derek was waiting with a glass of chilled white wine in his hand. He had removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, rolled back his sleeves and taken off his dark-framed glasses, transforming himself from the conservative businessman into the macho ex-spy. Summer wondered how she’d ever believed he’d been anyone else. She forced herself to resist reaching out to stroke one powerfully muscled arm as she took her drink, though she made herself a promise that, before the night was over, she’d test the strength of every muscle in his body.

  “About your former line of work, Derek,” she began when they were seated on the sofa, Derek rather stiffly, Summer completely at ease.

  He sighed. “What about it?”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, not pretending to misunderstand. “For the excitement, the adventure. Because I was good at it, and because I wanted to make a difference for my country.”

  “Why did you quit?”

  “Lots of reasons. I got tired. What once looked exciting and daring began to look sordid and ugly. I was ready to trade adventure for normality. As I got older, the daily routine of the regular business world began to look pretty good to me. I’ve always had a certain, er, talent for giving advice, so I decided to go into the consulting business. The government provided me with the references and credentials I needed to get started.”

  “And you’re doing very well at it.”

  “I’ve enjoyed it.” He glanced over at her. “When did I give myself away? When I reached for a gun that wasn’t there?”

  “That was part of it.”

  Looking contrite, he set his half-finished drink on a table beside him and turned to her. “Summer, I really am sorry that I kept my past from you. I didn’t understand that it would hurt you. It’s a part of my life that I want to put behind me, a part that I wasn’t sure that you would admire or respect. And I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you enough to recognize that I’m no movie hero, despite my background. I didn’t want you to expect something from me that’s just not there.”