by Marie Harte
Noel stood in place until the last possible second so the car wouldn’t mow him down. Before it hit, he jumped back, avoiding major injury, just a graze and some massively sore muscles from the fender. But man, that had been close. The car fishtailed, righted its trajectory, then sped away as the bright lights of a nearby patrol car gave pursuit.
“Holy shit! Yo, man, you all right?” someone asked him.
Noel rolled to his feet and dusted off his trousers and jacket. “Yes, thanks. Stupid drunk, I’ll bet.”
Several onlookers nearby started talking about the number of DUIs in the paper lately.
Noel quickly walked away, heading toward his objective and ignoring the pain in his knee where he’d hit the pavement. He entered the café and ordered a bowl of soup and a salad. Then he waited.
Half an hour later, he left his companion and the meal behind. But the nosy individual lurking in the back hadn’t fared so well. Big Joe’s informant didn’t like being spied on. Neither did Noel, but he would have simply put a hurt on the snooping dishwasher. Broken a bone or three.
The informant, however, had utilized a poison that would make itself known in a few hours, wherein the spy—dishwasher, my ass—would become violently ill, assuming he didn’t end up dead of a heart attack first. The poison would also be untraceable unless someone knew exactly what to look for.
Noel walked back to his car, pulled a subtle diagnostic tool from his pocket, and after verifying the car hadn’t been tampered with, got inside. He called Hammer’s number, let it ring twice, then hung up and waited.
First, a botched druggie attack. Now, a drunk driver. Two coincidences? Noel wasn’t buying it. And just who the hell had put a spy in the diner to watch Big Joe’s guy? Big Joe? Someone else from the Business? Some faceless enemy? Questions on top of questions. Since the informant hadn’t wanted to wait for answers, just get out of Dodge, and fast, Noel was no closer to knowing anything about what looked like amateur attempts on his life.
Big Joe’s run-down of the dead meth head turned up little but the name of a guy who had never crossed the street at anything but a crosswalk. Ted Wilkes. Nothing else.
But who really wanted Noel dead? Big Joe hadn’t passed on any warnings about his cover being blown, and the government didn’t know who he was or where he lived. Sure, they knew about Noel Cavanaugh, the finance consultant. And Noel Ridgemont, the man who lived in Washington and was on the books for a popular lobbyist. They didn’t know Ice. Unless someone in the Business had decided to take him out. He had to wonder if Big Joe was in on it. Or was Big Joe being played?
“Or am I dreaming up conspiracies where there are none?” Noel let out a frustrated groan. If the Business wanted him dead, he’d be a lot closer to nearly deceased. No bruise on the knee, he’d be dodging a bullet to the brain. The puzzle gave him a headache, because he needed to solve the riddle of his accidents before meeting up with Addy. No way he’d do anything to place her in danger.
Unless there was no danger. Nothing but a baby with smelly diapers to contend with until they learned who had fathered the little guy.
Personally, Noel leaned toward Deacon. The playboy with the sly grin and supposed charm liked the ladies. A lot. Deacon might dip his wick in a less than safe manner. Hammer liked women as well, but he seemed more cautious, like Noel.
As if thinking about the guy had conjured him, Noel’s phone rang. “Hammer?”
“I talked to our ghostly buddy.” To Phantom. Interesting. No one ever saw or heard from Phantom unless he wanted it. And in this instance, Phantom had contacted Hammer.
“What did he want to know? Did you see him?”
“Now you know the guy is all but invisible. We discussed matters online, in a secured but deserted facility I had to be driven to. So much fuckin’ drama.” Hammer snorted. “But I gotta tell you. This shit is getting downright weird.”
“How so?”
“I was hit with a lot of questions about Noel Jr.”
Noel blinked. Hammer hadn’t planned to ask anything about a baby. Just about that code on the locket and rumors about unauthorized missions. “What?”
“I know. Nothing about the possible attempt on you. We didn’t talk about Angel or that code. Just questions about a baby.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That the kid was none of his fucking business.”
“Not smart.”
“I was trying to get a rise out of him. I ended up getting a lock on the location he called from. Before I could enter the hotel, a SWAT team showed up and arrested a major drug dealer. It was crawling with cops, so I waited. When I tracked down the computer on the other end of the server, I found it in a hotel room down the block that had been sterilized. Everything wiped down. Just a black phantom mask left behind on the bed.”
“Hell.” Phantom’s involvement with the kid couldn’t be good.
“What do you want me to do? I’m thinking I should come back. I don’t like how this is shaking down.”
“Me neither.” He paused. “I think another attempt was made on me today.” He described the attempted hit-and-run.
“Seriously? That’s sloppy, Noel. A drive-by. Poison. Getting you alone and plugging you with bullets. That’s art. But this? It’s rinky-dink, if it’s even real. Not Business, man.”
“I know.” Noel sighed, then asked the question he dreaded broaching, but he wanted a second opinion. “I invited Addy to come out for a Friday night date. Should I cancel?”
“Nah. You can protect her if there really is someone after you. And hell, maybe draw them out so you can ask some questions. Better to fight them in a crowded city than on the island, right? You don’t want that shit near your home.”
Hammer understood.
“Right.” Noel felt a sense of relief he didn’t need to cancel on Addy. “I’ll be here through Saturday afternoon. Deacon’s on point with the kid. You staying or coming back?” He’d almost said “coming home.”
“I’ll give it another few days then head back. I have something I want to try with our ghostly dude.” He paused, then Noel heard the smile in his voice. “I wouldn’t rush back if I were you. Deacon left a message on my voicemail, and he didn’t sound happy. I gather he’s not into changing diapers.”
Noel grinned. “No, he’s not. But he’d better get used to it. Or you should, come to think of it.”
“No way. You can think whatever you want. I didn’t father a baby. No way, no how.”
“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”
“Fifty bucks says it’s Deacon.”
“I won’t take that, because I agree with you.” Noel started up his car. “I know I asked you two not to leave.”
“More like ordered us to stay.”
“Big Joe isn’t giving you a hassle about the time off, is he?”
“Nah. He’s plenty busy with the rest of his stable.” Hammer paused. “You know Big Joe has a half dozen contractors active and running around at any given time. The three of us being on break is no biggie. And even if he did know were hanging together, it’s not unusual for us, right? He knows we’re friendly.”
Friendly, but not exactly friends. “I don’t know if I like him knowing that.” Noel felt uneasy. The Business didn’t frown on interoffice relationships, but they rarely dealt with them, the nature of a contractor’s work being solitary. “Do you think he has any idea about the kid?”
“Nope. I mean, he could, but that would mean he has eyes-on. We know our phones are clean. And we’ve all been very vague about the situation when communicating. Far as Big Joe knows, we’re off doing our own thing.”
“I guess you’re right.” Still, he had a weird feeling in his gut.
“But Noel, these accidents you keep having… Keep your eye out. I’ll talk to you when I know more.” Hammer disconnected.
Noel grimaced and
tucked his phone away, then drove back to his hotel. He made sure no one followed him. But just to be on the safe side, he switched to his backup hotel, registered under an alias, and rested up for the following day.
He’d need his wits about him to deal with the real danger at hand—Adeline Rose and a shared suite with one big-ass bed.
* * * * *
Addy continued to call herself all kinds of stupid for agreeing to a date with a man who made her lose all control. He’d honest to goodness seduced her into sex on the first date without even trying. And then to forego a condom? It was like a sexual Darwin Award for most idiotic or desperate female of the decade.
She sighed, trying not to be too hard on herself. Addy was only human, and she’d had a crush on Noel for years. Add to that she hadn’t had sex in over a year and she’d been primed to detonate near Sexy Cavanaugh.
But now that she’d taken the edge off—so to speak—she could better handle herself with him. She liked Noel. When he’d let go of those emotional shields holding him back, he’d showed fascinating layers of complexity. But it was getting through those shields to the core of the man beneath that motivated her to see where her relationship with Noel would go.
As Solene had said, it wasn’t like Addy had men breaking down her door. Sure, Brent had called for another dinner date, but she’d pretended to miss seeing the message, returning the call to his business when she’d known he’d be at home.
Brent. Such a nice man. Such a boring man. He owned his own accounting firm on the island. He had steady work, but not many interests outside that of a tax break or football.
Addy loathed football.
Talk with Brent had her mind wandering in minutes. As annoyed as she’d been with Noel, she’d never been bored with him. Disappointed, attracted, annoyed, but never bored.
She walked off the ferry with her roller bag by her side and found Noel waiting patiently for her in the terminal. He seemed so still, blending into his environment so well that a few people nearly bumped into him when the crowd coming off the ferry swelled.
He saw her and nodded. A tilt to his head, no smile, but she swore his eyes warmed.
A few ladies near her gave him second and third looks, and she knew what they saw. A handsome, if reserved, man. That look of take-it-or-leave-it-I-don’t-give-a-damn that intrigued a girl to pry under that icy exterior.
Down, girl. Remember, you’re in control of your hormones now.
She gave him a small smile and took his arm, allowing him to walk her to the parking lot. He put her bag in the trunk of his car and held the door open for her. A gentleman, and she didn’t think he was putting on an act. This was the real Noel behaving as he normally would.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She caught another hint of a smile. Not in his lips so much, but in the slight crinkle of his eyes and the tilt of his head. She should have thought it odd to be able to read him so well, but she found it a challenge to keep up with his near-invisible tells.
“Did your week go well?” he asked, all politeness as he drove them to the hotel.
“Fine, if you don’t count one of the boys daring four others to eat their glue sticks. Mind you, these are eight- and nine-year-olds. But three of them ate the glue and got tummy aches. Then there was the parent incensed that her daughter comes home covered in marker every day. Well, I can’t control what Becky Crowder does on her walk home. At least she uses temporary markers.”
He coughed, to cover a laugh, most likely. “Well. That sounds…interesting.”
“What about you? How did your meetings go?”
He sighed. “About as well as your week went. I made very little progress. But at least I was saved from having to change some very dirty diapers.”
“Oh, yes, about that. Deacon came over last night in terror. I think Noel Jr.—ah, I mean, the baby,” she corrected when he gave her a look, “is teething and not sleeping. Deacon was at the end of his rope. So I introduced him to Solene’s daycare. I think he’s going to use her for a little break. But don’t worry.” She hurried to forestall the question following his frown. For all that Noel insisted he wasn’t the father, he acted protective at the oddest times. “Solene’s an expert. Kids love her, and she has a soft spot for babies.”
“Solene Hansen? I think I met her once in town.”
“Yes. Blonde, beautiful, with an attitude? That’s her.” And what did Noel think of the ex-model?
He snorted. “Oh right. The attitude. I remember her now. Good. She and Deacon can work things out.” He gave her a quick assessment without revealing his thoughts. “You and I have a date night planned.”
She felt tingly as she envisioned their date getting carnal. Because as much as she wanted to prove to herself she was above sex with an almost stranger, she’d never been so pleasured by a man in her life. Already, she felt addicted to Noel’s touch. Not good when he’d probably be getting ready to head out again soon.
He patted her on the knee. “Don’t worry, Addy. I’ll go easy on you.”
She ignored the heat left by his touch and placed his large hand back on the steering wheel. “Whatever, Noel. I think we both know you’re the one with the control problem.”
“Is that so?” He shot her a grin that melted her panties right off. Or at least, that’s what her lady parts told her. She felt exposed, aroused, and downright hostile that he could make her want him so easily. Damn.
“Yeah, neighbor. That’s so,” she growled. “Now let’s enjoy this platonic date night of ours. That’s if you can keep it in your pants.”
He blinked at her. “Funny, but that phrase has been going around a lot lately.”
Chapter Six
The hotel blew her away. Trust Noel to find them deluxe accommodations. He’d booked a suite overlooking the Pike Place Market. A single bedroom suite at the Inn at the Market.
Talk about a sweet suite.
She forced herself not to giggle like a little girl and swallowed her nerves as they returned from their evening out.
“All right?” he asked as they took the stairs to their room.
“Fine.”
“I enjoyed our meal, but I think the play was the best part of tonight, don’t you?” He strode with confidence in a power suit that he wore with perfection. Dark gray slacks and jacket over a dark gray button up shirt he’d left open at the collar. More than one head had turned tonight watching him.
At least she’d been smart enough to pack a knee-length dress that complimented her figure and coloring. The navy blue sheath had a plunging neckline, long sleeves, and a tiny slit up the left side that looked more classy than slutty. Or so Solene had said.
Personally, Addy would have rather worn dress slacks and a silk blouse, but even she knew she’d have been outclassed tonight wearing that.
He let them inside the suite and locked up behind them.
“Yes,” she said, when she realized he waited on her account of the evening. “I’m a Shakespeare fan, but I particularly love his comedies.”
“I prefer his histories, but this one was well done.”
She could have guessed he’d go for history over comedy, or romance, for that matter.
“I—”
He cut her off by taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. She stared into his dark gaze, breathless.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
Unable to form coherent words, she nodded.
“Let me tell you again. You look gorgeous. I’m a sucker for dark hair, and yours not only looks like silk, it feels like silk.” He ran a hand over her hair, and she felt that touch to her toes. “You know, you’re just the right height.”
“For?” she somehow managed to say.
“A kiss.” He pecked her on the forehead then gave her a sly grin. “How about we p
lay for secrets?”
“What?”
“Blackjack. Winner gets to ask questions of the loser.”
“Fine. But you can’t lie.”
He dropped her hand and put his palm over is heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She grimaced. “Please. I hear enough of that kind of talk at work.”
He chuckled. “Me too.”
When she would have asked him about that, he told her to get comfortable and meet him on the couch. She entered the only bedroom, ignored the lonely king-size bed staring back at her, and removed only her shoes and hose. She’d brought her sexiest pair of pajamas, which wasn’t saying much. The soft jersey cotton felt great but didn’t do much for sexy. But she needed to feel on an even keel with Noel. Something about him put her constantly off balance.
So she left on her dress, brushed out her hair, and joined him in the living area. He’d removed his jacket, socks and shoes, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He had muscular forearms, she noted. Closer inspection showed a muscular build as well. Strange that he gave the appearance of being much smaller than he actually was.
“You ready?” He had a glass of what looked like alcohol by his side.
“I thought you didn’t drink.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“You didn’t order anything at dinner the other night.”
“Ah. Well, I’m feeling mellow and secure in our suite. Would you like some?”
“What is it?”
“Scotch.”
“Yech. No thanks.”
“I also brought wine.”
She thought about it. “Sure. Why not?” One glass of wine wouldn’t turn her into a raving nympho. Hell, I’m sober and already hot for his body.
She didn’t know why she kept giving herself a hard time for wanting the man. She had a normal attraction for a man she liked. Most of the time. When he wasn’t being a pain or avoiding her.
“Here you go,” he said, giving her a glass of red.
She sipped it and nodded. “This is good.”