One of the Good Guys

by Carla Cassidy

  Yes, she’d be a fool to allow anything to happen between she and Tony, and Vinnie hadn’t raised a fool. Smiling confidently, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

  * * *

  Tony looked up as the bathroom door opened and Libby stepped out. Immediately the room filled with the fresh, clean scent of the soap and shampoo she had used. Tony’s chest suddenly ached as his breath became caught someplace between his ribs. God, she looked so clean and fresh, so beautiful. She was clad only in a huge T-shirt that fell almost to her knees. She didn’t seem aware of the fact that the cotton material clung to her rounded breasts and emphasized rather than hid the darker circles of her nipples. Her face had the clean, scrubbed beauty of good health, and her pale hair was drying in a fluffy cloud of softness.

  “Did you get your phone calls made?” she asked, sitting down primly at the small kitchen table.

  He nodded slowly, hoping the tumultuous emotions he felt weren’t reflected on his face.

  “What did you find out?” She leaned forward eagerly, the top of the T-shirt falling away from her body, exposing her delicate collarbone.

  “Uh…we’ll talk about it after I shower,” he murmured, jumping off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

  “There’s a bottle of shampoo and a new T-shirt in there for you,” Libby called after him, her hands folding and unfolding nervously on top of the table. She took a deep, tremulous breath. What she’d seen in his eyes just before he’d disappeared into the bathroom had made her feel breathless, so totally alive. It had been a long time since she’d felt her stomach quiver, her nerve endings tingle from the look in a man’s eyes.

  She stared at the bed, wishing it didn’t look so small, so intimate. This whole situation would have been so much easier had the room boasted a sofa, or a love seat…someplace where a person could stretch out and sleep instead of the bed. There wasn’t even a bathtub, only a stand-up shower stall.

  She paced around the room, looking into the drawers of the dresser, checking the contents of the kitchen cabinets, wondering how long they would have to remain in the small confines of the room before they could get back on the road. The room was small, and she had a feeling that with Tony’s presence, it would shrink considerably.

  She looked up as Tony came out of the bathroom. His dark hair stuck up wetly and he was clad in the new T-shirt and his jeans. “Whew, that felt good,” he exclaimed, his eyes darkly inscrutable. Whatever she had seen in them moments before was now gone, smothered beneath a distant blankness that was somehow comforting to her.

  “So…uh…what did you find out from your phone calls?” she asked.

  Tony paced the room, quickly repeating what he had learned from Cliff, leaving out his friend’s words of warning on just how dangerous the men were. There was no reason for her to know everything.

  “So, what does this information tell you?” she asked when he was finished.

  He shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. “It tells me it’s more important than ever that we get to that lab and find out some answers about the necklace. If the men who want it belong to some sort of subversive group trying to take over the world, then we need to discover how this necklace holds the key.”

  Libby nodded. “At least we now have a name of somebody to talk to. Jonathon Maxwell…let’s hope he has some answers for us.”

  “Oh, by the way, I also talked to my neighbors. They’re going to take care of your demon cat until we get back, and I called your ex-husband.” Tony smiled. “I’ve been fired.”

  Libby laughed. “He might have fired you, but I haven’t. I have a feeling before this is all over I’m going to need my guardian angel more than ever.”

  “I have a feeling we both need an angel in our pocket to get through this mess.”

  “What’s our next move?” she asked.

  “Sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, so we’d better rest while we can.” He walked over to the light switch on the wall, his eyes still dark orbs of blankness. “I’ll take this side, closest to the door,” he said, pointing to the bed.

  She nodded, reluctantly leaving her chair and approaching the side of the bed. She slid in beneath the sheets and looked at him expectantly. As he turned out the light and the room plunged into darkness, she moved over so she was lying on the outer inches of the bed. She didn’t want a shoulder to bump, a thigh to accidently rub. She wanted to make certain she stayed on her own side.

  She heard the whisper of a zipper and knew he was taking off his jeans. Her mind filled with an image of him without them, and she shook her head to dispel the erotic vision.

  As the mattress sagged beneath his weight, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed, wondering why her breathing was suddenly so irregular.

  She could smell him—the clean scent of soap, the fragrance of the shampoo, and beneath that, the subtle scent of maleness that teased and taunted her.

  Although he didn’t touch her at all, she could feel the heat that seemed to radiate from his body, a heat she’d like to crawl into, remain in for eternity.

  “Good night, Libby,” he said, his voice sounding strangely full.

  “Good night, Tony,” she answered, wondering how on earth she would ever manage to sleep when all she wanted was for him to reach out to her and take her in his arms, drive her insane with his kisses and caresses.

  CHAPTER 9

  Libby awoke slowly, pulling herself away from the land of dreams and into reality. She cracked open one eyelid, noticing that the room was no longer pitch-black but held the deep gray of predawn. She knew Tony was still in the bed next to her, could still feel his warmth, could hear the throb of his deep, even breathing vibrating the bed.

  She turned over cautiously to look at him. He slept on his back, his deep breathing attesting to the fact that he was sound asleep. She could see that she’d stolen the blankets from him at some time during the night as his legs were bare, sprawled apart in complete relaxation.

  She knew she should get up or go back to sleep. She shouldn’t be lying here staring at him while he slept. But she couldn’t stop herself.

  She’d known his legs were long, but she hadn’t expected them to be covered with such fine, dark hair. And she hadn’t anticipated the muscles that marked them with masculine shapeliness. The briefs he wore hugged him tightly, causing an intense heat to sweep through her as she moved her gaze upward. The T-shirt had ridden up his stomach, exposing the flat, tanned surface broken only by a narrow line of dark hair that disappeared into the top of his shorts.

  If she reached out and touched him, would he awaken? By a mere touch on his stomach or thigh, would she stimulate a response she wasn’t prepared to handle? She knew instinctively that his skin would be warm and welcoming. She also knew with a certainty that if she touched him in invitation, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her. With men like Tony, love wasn’t necessary…and it certainly had not been love she’d seen radiating from his eyes when she’d stepped out of the bathroom the night before. It had been lust…uncomplicated, blatant desire.

  She rolled back over on her side, away from him. She wouldn’t touch him. She wanted him, but she wasn’t sure she was prepared to settle for what little he had to give. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, hoping sleep would come again and bring peaceful oblivion, steal away the heated, erotic thoughts that danced provocatively in her head….

  Tony knew the exact moment when she fell back asleep. He felt her muscles ease into the mattress and her breathing resume a steady rhythm. He slowly allowed his own muscles to relax their tenseness. He’d awakened and instantly felt her gaze on him. It had taken all his control to maintain his aura of deep sleep. But he knew if he opened his eyes and saw her, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out for her.

  And God knew, he didn’t want to do that. If he was smart, he would not only get the hell out of this bed, but he’d get away from this woman, who was quickly gaining an obsessive status in his head. If he was
smart, he’d run as far away from her as possible and never see her again. After all, this mystery was hers. She had the necklace. It was her problem.

  He frowned, knowing that simply wasn’t true. Yes, she had the necklace, but there was no way he could walk away from her and let her deal alone with the powers of the New Republic of Man.

  However, he knew if he made love to her, continued to get more deeply involved, they both would lose. He’d seen firsthand the destructive powers of love. He didn’t want to see Libby grow from a vibrant, strong woman to a shadow woman. He’d seen it happen to his mother, and he refused to allow it to happen to Libby. She deserved better than he had to give.

  Another day or two and this mystery would be solved, and they would both return to their own lives. He could be strong for that length of time. He could fight his overwhelming desire to taste once again the sweetness of her lips, caress the shapely curves of her breasts.

  She’d go back to her own life and she would eventually find someone who could give her all that she deserved, a man who wouldn’t shy away from her love. And he would continue on his solitary path. He closed his eyes, wondering why this thought filled him with such an overwhelming ache of sadness.

  * * *

  The next time Libby opened her eyes, the morning sunshine streamed through the partially opened curtains and she was alone in bed. She sat up, pushing her hair off her face and looked around curiously. It was obvious she was not only alone in the bed but also in the room.

  She got out of bed, spying a note on the kitchen table. She scanned it quickly, unsurprised to discover that Tony had gone to the grocery store to pick up something for breakfast.

  While he was gone, she quickly dressed and made the bed. She had just finished, when he returned, carrying a sack of groceries. “Ah, good, you’re up,” he said cheerfully. “I trust you slept okay.”

  “Fine,” she answered, noting that the easy charm was back in his eyes, effectively hiding any deeper emotions he might have.

  “I got sausage and eggs here,” he said, unpacking the groceries. “And coffee and milk. In fact, I got enough supplies for us to hole up here for today and tomorrow. Oh, and here’s a little something for you.” He tossed her a box of Twinkies.

  “Thanks.” It was ridiculous really, how the fact that he’d bought her a box of the treats touched her. Most women received flowers from their male friends, but as Libby looked at the box of Twinkies, she realized they were more precious than a dozen roses could ever be.

  She sat down at the kitchen table, watching as he efficiently sliced off the sausage and placed it in an old iron skillet he found in one of the rickety kitchen cabinets. As the sausage sizzled, he filled an aluminum coffeepot and got it perking on one of the burners. Within minutes a savory mixture of scents permeated the air.

  Libby got up and crossed to the curtains, starting to pull them back all the way to allow the morning sun better entry.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tony said softly. “We don’t know how thorough these men will be if they’re still looking for us. We don’t want to make it too easy on them.”

  “Oh, of course,” Libby replied, pulling the curtains closed again. For a brief moment, she’d forgotten the men, the danger that still existed from them.

  She sat back down at the table. “Do you really think we need to stay here for two days?”

  Tony moved the perking coffee off the burner. “I don’t know, Libby. I’m functioning in the dark as much as you are. I just think if we give ourselves a little time, say about two days, then our odds are better at not encountering those men. Hopefully by that time those men will think we got lost, or went back to Kansas City or left the country.”

  Libby nodded, wondering what they were going to do to wile away the next forty-eight hours in this tiny room. They couldn’t go outside and explore the area. There wasn’t a television—not even a radio—in the room. Just Tony, with his incredibly tight jeans, his evocative smile, his powerful maleness. It was definitely going to be a hellish two days.

  “Sure you don’t want at least a piece of sausage?” he asked moments later as he joined her at the table.

  She shook her head. “Just the coffee.” She took a sip and grimaced. “And I think one cup of it will be quite enough.”

  “Bad, huh?” He shook his head ruefully. “I never could make it without the benefit of a machine. But I did remember to get some lunch meat for sandwiches and hot dogs for supper. At least we can’t mess those up with the antiquated cooking equipment.”

  She nodded, smiling as she watched him eat. He ate with a natural gusto, as if each bite might be his last. He would probably make love with the same passion, the same intensity. A woman would be loved thoroughly, completely, by Tony Pandolinni.

  Libby mentally shoved these thoughts out of her head, knowing they were ridiculous and nonproductive.

  She got up from the table and went into the bathroom, taking a cool, wet cloth and running it lightly over her face. She picked up the necklace from the edge of the sink and carried it back to the table with her.

  As Tony finished eating, she focused her attention on the locket in the center, opening it and staring at the empty space within. “There’s got to be something we’re missing,” she muttered. “Whatever is so important, it’s not the necklace itself, and it’s not what’s on the inside.” She looked up at Tony curiously. “What could it be?”

  His brow wrinkled in thought. “I wish I knew.”

  Libby nodded her agreement and shoved the necklace aside.

  After Tony ate, she helped him with the dishes, finding it strangely intimate to stand next to him at the sink doing something as mundane as washing dishes. His broad shoulders bumped hers as they put the dishes in the cabinets, the contact creating an electric circuit throughout her entire body.

  With the dishes put away, Libby wandered the room and Tony sat at the table, tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. “Didn’t you tell me that your father taught you to bluff at poker?” he asked suddenly.

  She looked at him curiously and nodded. “Lots of times Vinnie and I would play cards to pass the time when business was slow at the shop.”

  Tony got up and went to the sack of items he’d bought at the grocery store and pulled out a pack of brand-new playing cards. “I thought these might come in handy.”

  Libby smiled eagerly, anxious to do something, anything to take her mind off the necklace and its danger, and Tony and a very different kind of danger. She sat down across from him at the table, watching as he unwrapped the cards and shuffled them with deft fingers. “We’ll see what kind of a bluff you can pull off,” he said, a twinkle of challenge in his eyes and a lazy smile of indulgence curving his lips upward.

  An hour later, the indulgence was gone as he witnessed Libby’s skill. Her eyes glittered merrily as she won yet another hand. Tony was playing poorly, and he knew he was playing poorly, but he couldn’t concentrate on the cards in his hand. He couldn’t think of anything but her scent, which seemed to invade his brain. He couldn’t focus on anything except the memory of her mouth against his, hot and wild, sweet and hungry. He’d never wanted a woman with the intensity that he wanted Libby, and he feared the only way he would be able to get her out of his system was to make love to her, wildly, passionately and completely. Then, and only then, would he be able to stop thinking about her, stop wanting her, stop obsessing on what it would be like to possess her totally.

  They stopped playing cards long enough to make sandwiches for lunch, then resumed the card games, moving to gin rummy, slapjack and even go fish.

  It was after dinner that Libby shoved the cards away. “If we play one more game, I’m going to be sick,” she exclaimed.

  Tony sighed, heartily agreeing. Still, the evening hours stretched before them, empty and tense. He got up and paced the room, trying to ignore the fact that suddenly everything she did seemed overtly sensual, a taunting turn-on. And the fact that she was oblivious to her
effect on him only heightened that effect.

  “I guess I’ll go shower,” she finally said, feeling a strange tension in the air. He nodded curtly, making her wonder if she had somehow done something to make him angry.

  When she was gone and the sound of the shower filled the tiny cabin, Tony got up from the table and paced the room like a caged animal. He’d never done well at wasting time. He needed action, stimulation, something to take his mind off Libby.

  He threw himself back into a chair at the table, feeling a foul mood descending around him, a foul mood that could only be lifted by an intense bout of lovemaking. He stared at the closed bathroom door, imagining her standing beneath the shower spray. He closed his eyes, seeing her body, lithe and wet, nipples distended from the stimulation of the shower spray. He saw himself, also naked, sweeping aside the flimsy shower curtain, joining her in the tiny enclosure. He’d soap her body, running the bar slowly, sensually down her neck, across each of her perfectly rounded breasts, down the flatness of her stomach and into the tangled curls of her center. He could hear her moans of pleasure, feel her wet heat surrounding him, taste the essence of her as his tongue followed his hand.

  He shook his head, appalled to find himself standing at the door of the bathroom, his hand on the doorknob, his body fully aroused. Damn her…damn her for making him want her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. Damn her for complicating his life. He slammed his fist against the door in a rapid knock.

  She threw open the door, her eyes startled, a towel barely covering the body he’d just been fantasizing about. “What? What is it?” she asked urgently.

  “I’m going out,” he said, backing away from the swirling steam that drifted out of the bathroom, backing away from the sweet, clean scent of her. “I’ll be back later. Don’t open the door for anyone but me.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he flew from the cabin, once outside breathing deeply of the crisp evening air, trying to regain control over his traitorous thoughts.