Improper Conduct

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Frowning now, she asked, “Why would I?”

  “Because you want to play the game.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t, really,” Isabel admitted, sliding off the stool.

  His “Aha!” caught her where she stood. “You don’t really care if I help you find Louise or not.”

  “That’s not true! Of course I do!” Clearly uncomfortable, she sat back down. “What was the question again?”

  “Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”

  Her control had slipped. He sensed it. He saw it. He heard it in her voice when she finally said, “I…I don’t always like myself.”

  Who did? Nick wondered, surprised that she’d admitted it. “Because…”

  “Sometimes I do a thing—not because I believe in it, but because it’s expedient.”

  The hallmark of a true politician, he thought. And yet her admitting it made him respect her. “How does that make you feel?”

  “I try not to think about it too closely.”

  Nick sensed the depth of her sudden discomfort and thought of a possible way out for himself. It wasn’t too late to make Isabel change her mind. He should never have played along with her from the start. But since he had, he now had to see it through.

  “Am I expedient?” he suddenly asked, facing what he feared to be true. “Is that why you came to me for help?”

  Heightened color flushed her face. “Yes, I suppose you could think of it that way.”

  “What other way is there?”

  Isabel looked away from the camera and away from him. Though she might be doing her damnedest to keep the experiment under her own control, Nick was an expert in getting information out of reluctant subjects. And if it was too late to get himself out of this predicament, if he was going to put himself on the line for her, then at least he needed to know that she could learn something from the experience.

  He stepped forward into the light and caught her immediate attention.

  “So what is it you’re trying to hide, Isabel?”

  “Nothing.” Her mouth tightened.

  He moved closer. “What else would you do to find Louise, to make sure she’s safe?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s my sister and I love her and it’s up to me to watch out for her!”

  Damn! Her obvious love and worry for her kid sister got to him like nothing else could. Nick didn’t state the obvious. The depth of responsibility that she was talking about was that of a parent, not a sibling. Neglect of his children when they weren’t expedient to him—Nick believed that of the senator. But what about Mrs. Grayson?

  Suddenly Nick caught himself. What the hell was he doing, working up sympathy for Isabel Grayson and her problems? He wanted nothing to do with her or her family, he reminded himself. Not again. The object was to get her to default.

  Or was it?

  She’s in your system, and isn’t it time you got her out? a little voice argued.

  Too dangerous. Don’t do it! another part of him responded. Knowing Isabel, she wouldn’t leave it be just because he said no. Letting it go had to be her idea.

  Suddenly desperate to make her call it quits, Nick advanced on her—close enough that her familiar scent set his senses on edge—and said, “So, you say you would do anything. Prove it.”

  “Wh-what? How?”

  “Use your imagination,” he said silkily, liking the way his low intonation made her eyes grow wide. “We’re going to be working closely together. On the streets. Just you and me. And the nights…” He let his voice linger on the last. “Are you prepared for the nights, Isabel?”

  Apparently, she wasn’t. He swore he could smell fear emanating from her in increasing waves. He was behind her now, staring at the back of her long, elegant neck, fighting a sudden, powerful urge to taste the delicate skin at the nape. He remembered what she tasted like, remembered how easily she responded to him.

  But he didn’t need that disrupting his life.

  Unclenching his jaw, he leaned over slightly and whispered directly in her ear, “So show me what you’ve got.”

  She shuddered.

  That should do it, he thought. Now Isabel would call a halt to this madness.

  Only, she wasn’t doing any such thing. Still stiff, she took in an audible breath and lifted hands that shook slightly to the top button of her blouse. Watching over her shoulder, he could see every minute movement. Fascinated, he couldn’t avert his eyes. Couldn’t tell her to stop.

  How far was she willing to go?

  “What is it you want from me, Nick?” she asked, her voice calm, steely even, as she undid the first button. “Proof that I’ll keep you warm at night? Fine.” A second button released its hold on the material. “I can do that. And I’ll be whatever, whoever you want me to be.”

  Staring down into the cleavage opening up to him, Nick told himself that he wanted her gone.

  Liar!

  His body told him what a liar he was as she finished unbuttoning her blouse with the finesse of a professional. From his vantage point, he was staring straight down at nicely shaped breasts that spilled from a flesh-colored material so see-through that she might as well have not been wearing anything at all.

  His heart pumped faster. His mouth went drier. His erection grew harder.

  Determined to push her to the edge from which she would finally flee, he pressed his length into her back and was gut-shot when she arched against him. He could see her nipples flush and pebble through the see-through material. The obvious offer was too tempting. He couldn’t help himself. Slipping his hands around the back of her neck, he circled her throat and then slowly glided his fingers lower, along the trail between her breasts.

  A small gasp escaped her and Nick flushed so hot he felt burned.

  Arching higher so that her breasts practically begged to be fondled, she slid her hands around the back of his thighs and pulled him tighter so that the length of his erection lay against her soft buttocks.

  She moved so slightly that he might have imagined it. Except that she moved again and again—small, furtive movements—until he was ready to come. Her breasts slipped into his palms as if of their own volition. He thumbed her already-aroused nipples through the thin material and she moaned softly.

  His mouth ached to surround her breasts with his wet heat; his cock ached to be surrounded by hers.

  And if her fingers tightening on the backs of his thighs were any indication, they were of a single mind, Nick realized, as Isabel moaned more deeply, her sexual response to him triggering long-repressed memories.

  They’d been young then, and innocent. And they’d shared their bodies with an openness he’d never experienced since.

  The vivid recollections were overpowering, too potent for comfort. Forcing his hands from her tempting flesh, Nick moved away, staying behind her to regain his composure.

  But she swung around on the stool in a challenge.

  “Well?” she asked coolly, the impassioned woman of a moment ago gone. Just a trace of lust and maybe something else, something deeper, remained in her eyes. “Did I pass your test, Nick? Will I do?”

  A moment ago, he would have sworn she was as turned on as he. He still swore it even though her expression remained passive and her gaze went purposely blank. She was looking straight at him as expectantly as if they were making a business deal.

  Isabel had been turned on, he knew it. But her heart hadn’t been in it—which was good, Nick told himself, because his heart couldn’t be involved again, either.

  Finally, he answered, “Perfect.”

  HAVING PASSED HIS STUPID TEST, Isabel swallowed hard and tamped down her emotions. She could play poker with the best of them, and they would never know when they were about to be beaten. And the best of them by far and large were reporters and politicians, people she dealt with on a day-to-day basis on her father’s behalf.

  By comparison, Nick Novak would be a piece
of cake.

  She didn’t want to dwell on how affected she had been by the heated encounter. She’d known being near Nick was going to be a challenge. She just hadn’t known how devastating he could still be to her. Her easy response to him was something of a shock.

  “So it’s a deal, then,” she said, far more calmly than she was feeling.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  Isabel held her hand out for a businesslike shake and steeled herself for the emotions that roiled through her when Nick took her hand. He let it go quickly, as if touching her bothered him, too. What would it be like keeping him warm at night? Could they possibly recapture anything of the past? she wondered, remembering how loved and safe she’d felt when he’d held her in his arms after making love to her. Or would she just be a convenience to him?

  “So, how do we proceed?” she asked, feeling anything but businesslike inside.

  Not that she would let Nick know how she was feeling. Maybe in his mind, she had a little humiliation coming. Maybe he planned a little delayed revenge because of the way she’d broken it off with him.

  “We’ll start tonight.”

  “Tonight.” A pulse ticked in her throat. He was stalling, holding out for what he could get from her before they found Louise. “Why wait?”

  “Because I have an appointment with a client this afternoon, a potential industrial video for me to shoot. And then tomorrow I was supposed to get together with Gideon over at Club Undercover to plan some new dance videos he wants for the club, so I’ll have to set a new appointment with him. I do run a business, you know. Besides, night is when we can most easily find the kids.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “Tonight, then. Shall I meet you here?”

  “Downstairs at Helen’s Cybercafé at eight.”

  Nodding, she passed him and headed for the door.

  “Isabel, wait.”

  Isabel stopped short, one hand on the doorknob. She would not let him see how she was feeling. She would not!

  Turning back to face Nick, she was caught by something in his gaze. Quickly glancing away, she stared back at his equipment and realized the red light on the camera was still glowing. Meaning the equipment was still recording.

  He said, “About tonight…go home and change into something a little more…casual.”

  Had he actually thought she planned on hitting the streets in clothes that would make her a target? “I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” He studied her thoroughly, from the tips of her Italian shoes to her carefully coiffed hair. “But you’ll have to go some to fit in.”

  She remembered when he was the one who hadn’t fit in. “Don’t worry, Nick. I’ll be appropriate…just as I always am.”

  Agreeing to the deal at all was hard enough on her self-respect that he should be satisfied. Only desperation for Louise would allow her to do something so…so…so crass. Only a man like Nick Novak would expect it of her, score to settle or not.

  “By the way,” he said as she gripped the door handle, “where is home these days?”

  “I’m still in the DePaul area.” Figuring she knew what he was thinking, she flushed and met his gaze. “Yes, Nick, I still live at home, if that’s all right with you.” She’d had to stay there for Louise’s sake.

  “Hey, it’s your life.”

  Leaving the close quarters of Nick’s place relieved a huge measure of tension. Isabel felt as if she were taking her first breath since running into Nick on the staircase.

  Tonight would be easier, she told herself. They would be surrounded by people, searching for her sister. She could get through that, no problem.

  But what about afterward? How would she handle spending the night with him?

  A shiver of dread shimmied up her spine as Isabel tried to push from her mind what Nick would expect of her. Of the clever things that she would have to do to keep him satisfied. But the sensual images that came to her wouldn’t be easily banished. Nor would the tension that had built up again from the inside out. Wanting him was like a sickness.

  Try as she might, she’d never been able to forget Nick. But he wasn’t the same boy she’d fallen in love with, and maybe being with him now would cure her.

  Hailing a taxi, she headed straight for her father’s Chicago office in the Lincoln Park West neighborhood. Since Congress was in summer recess, he was in town but chafing to get on with business in other parts of the state. Anything rather than deal with his own daughter, Isabel thought. William Grayson’s career had always come first.

  Take the money he’d put into his office. While a politician normally rented an accessible storefront office in the home state, not her father. With private funds, he’d bought one of the remaining three-flat greystones on Clark Street. The tenants of the apartments on the upper two floors supposedly paid the mortgage and building expenses, and her father had turned the entire first floor into a luxurious office suite.

  Isabel shared an office with Boyd Cummings, the other press assistant. Boyd spent more time in D.C. with her father when Congress was in session, while she handled things here at the home front. Boyd was a golden boy with fair good looks and unusual sea-blue eyes that set many a female heart aflame, both here and in D.C.

  Despite that he was a decent guy, she herself had never felt any attraction to the man, maybe because she wasn’t fond of playboy types but probably just because he had her father’s stamp of approval. She’d dated too many of those men who’d been more interested in her father’s work than in her to be intrigued by Boyd. Both her professional and personal world was populated with mostly politicians and reporters, so she had a hard time meeting anyone who actually interested her.

  Except for Nick Novak…

  Not that she didn’t like Boyd, she thought, shoving Nick to the back of her mind. But she saw him as a supportive friend, sort of like the brother she’d never had.

  “So, heard anything about the kid?” Boyd asked as she settled herself in to look over the mound of mail on her desk.

  The kid referred to Louise, of course. The two seemed fond of each other, and Isabel had long suspected that Louise had grown into young womanhood with a crush on Boyd.

  “No, but I’m hoping for a break soon,” she said, without qualifying the statement.

  “Really? I miss the brat, and I’m worried about her,” Boyd admitted. “If we don’t get a break on her whereabouts soon, the senator will have to change his tune and let the authorities in on the matter.”

  “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

  Isabel didn’t want to go into it further, not with a colleague.

  She hadn’t even gone into it with Nora Hamilton, her college roommate and longtime best friend. Isabel now fought the urge to call, knowing Nora had problems of her own. Man problems, as usual.

  Which made her think of Nick again. He was a problem, all right, in every sense of the word. But she would get through this somehow.

  Isabel got to the growing pile of work on her desk, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept thinking about Nick, about what she was going to have to do to keep him looking for Louise.

  Finally giving up on routine work, she glanced at her watch. Just enough time that her father would still be in. Traditionally, he took lunch at one o’clock or even later, so that any constituents who wanted to see him during their own lunch hour could.

  Isabel made her way to the back of the building and her father’s domain, where she knocked at his office door and opened it.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” her father was saying in a low tone as she slipped inside, gently closing the door behind her. He was sitting, his broad, physically fit body turned away from her, and staring out a window. Sounding exasperated, he said, “How the hell many times do I have to reassure you!”

  Isabel wondered what kind of problem they were facing now. Thinking she didn’t need to be putting out any more fires, she sighed, which signaled to her father that he wasn’t alone.


  Voice smoothing out to cordial, he said, “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  The moment he hung up, she said, “I hope that’s something Boyd can fix because—”

  “It’s something I’ll fix!” he said sharply. His eyes, a shade darker than his silver hair, narrowed on her.

  Isabel raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment. “I just stopped in to let you know I’m going to be out looking for Louise. I’ve gotten nowhere alone, so I’ve brought in reinforcements.”

  “The hell you say—I told you, no police!”

  He was certainly in a mood, Isabel thought. “No police,” she reassured him.

  “Or private investigators. I don’t need some damn gumshoe blackmailing me to keep my secrets.”

  His secrets. Yes, that is what had gotten them into this fix, something she hadn’t told Nick.

  “No private investigator,” she assured him. “I’m calling out a favor from Nick Novak.”

  Her father cursed until his face turned beet red. “I told you about him!”

  “I’m not sixteen anymore. And I…we need him to find Louise. Nick knows kids on the street. He’s been doing a documentary on them. They trust him. They’ll talk to him.”

  “And he’ll talk to the press.”

  Isabel shook her head. “He won’t, because I’ll see to it.”

  Just as she saw to everything else her father needed. But, more and more, she was becoming torn about her loyalty to him, in this case more than ever. She had a lot to think about. Surely she could find something else to do professionally that would be equally satisfying and a lot less painful.

  The door opened behind her and Boyd walked in holding a sheaf of papers. “Sorry, sir, I need your signature.”

  Her father waved Boyd over. And to Isabel, he said, “All right. How long do you think it will take?”

  “I have no idea. I thought I would find Louise right away, or that she would come home.” Isabel shook her head. “This is our last shot at finding her quietly.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do whatever it takes.” Already signing the papers, her father asked distractedly, “You’ll call in every day and touch base with me personally?”