Secret Lover

by Shawna Delacorte

  The heat of her response and her unbridled passions were addictive—he craved more and more. He wanted to give her pleasure as much as he wanted to take it. He had never met anyone who set him on fire the way she did, who made him totally lose control of any and all reality other than their bodies and souls combined into one. His pace quickened, then his passions boiled over as he gave one last deep thrust. He held her tightly, burying his face in the softness of her hair in order to prevent the words of endearment he feared he was only a breath away from uttering.

  He felt drained, but at the same time there existed an excitement and lightness of soul he had never before experienced—certainly not in the past five years. He ran his fingers through her hair, pausing every few seconds to kiss her cheek or forehead while he forced his ragged breathing under control. He wanted to tell her of feelings and emotions that he thought he would never again experience, but he knew he could not, at least not yet. Then his thoughts tinged the moment with sadness—maybe never. There was so much more at stake now than there had been an hour earlier. Not only his freedom, but also any hope for happiness—his entire future.

  If everything turned out all right maybe then he could think about the future, a future that included Andi. The next couple of days would tell it all. If the lead of the interview tape and the informant that Steve had uncovered did not work out, then he did not know where else to turn or what else to try. Things just had to work out, especially now that he had found someone who allowed him to have thoughts of a future. He closed his eyes, thoughts of Andi circulating through his conscious mind until he finally fell asleep.

  Andi, too, was deep in thought as she quietly reveled in the secure feeling produced by the warmth of his embrace. She had never been as content and happy as she was at that moment. Any thoughts about the truly impossible circumstances that surrounded them were denied admittance, along with the growing realization that she just might be falling in love with him. She snuggled her body against his, her head resting on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled her into a blissful sleep.

  Neither of them stirred until the next morning. Andi’s movements forced a couple of words from Jim, his voice still thick with sleep. “Good morning.”

  Andi ran her fingers across his hard chest. “It is a glorious morning, isn’t it?” She wrapped her arm across his body and rested her head against his chest. Her voice became soft, filled with a combination of emotion and concerns. “This situation...these circumstances... everything is so uncertain. Things between us happened so quickly.”

  He tightened his hold on her, not knowing quite how to respond to what she had said. He was not sure if what he was experiencing was true. “I wish I knew how to put into words exactly what I’m feeling. For five years I’ve lived my life day-to-day, not allowing myself any thoughts about what the future might hold. Then you came along and gave me hope....” He could not finish his sentence. Things were far from settled. Everything could fall apart any minute. Buchanan’s henchmen could be only a step or two behind him and closing in fast.

  She lay cradled in his arms for a quiet moment then sat up in bed, her mind forcing her to deal with more immediate and practical matters. “We need to be on the road.”

  He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I know.”

  Chapter Seven

  The nondescript man in his late forties pulled the dark sedan up to the curb in front of the restored turn-of-the-century beachfront bungalow in La Jolla. He sat in the car with the engine idling as he glanced up and down both sides of the street, carefully taking in everything—a man walking his dog along the sidewalk, a woman two doors down mowing her front lawn, the letter carrier delivering the mail, a man reading the water meter at a house across the street and the house next door to that with a For Rent sign in the yard. After a few moments he turned off the engine, got out of the car and quickly walked around the side of the bungalow, pausing long enough to open the gate to the backyard.

  Steve Westerfall crossed the lawn, coming to a stop at the back fence. He opened the back gate and stepped out onto the small bluff overlooking the beach. A slight grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he noticed the new steps leading down to the sand. For the past two years Andi had been telling him that she intended to replace the old weathered steps. His gaze swept the expanse of the Pacific Ocean, then came to rest on the waves that rolled across the sandy beach ten feet below.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky, causing glints of light to dance across the water. He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the warming rays. It had been snowing when he left New York early that morning. He had to admit that it felt good to be in California with the warmth and sunshine, even if his main concern had not been dealing with the emergence of James Hollander from five years of hiding.

  A frown momentarily creased his brow. He was also concerned about Andi. It was not so much what she had said but more the way she had said it. He sensed that she was becoming personally involved—emotionally involved. He and Andi went back many years. He genuinely liked her and did not want to see her needlessly hurt. Things were happening very quickly, many more things than he had confided to Andi. He did not want James Hollander to be spooked into running. Now that the elusive Mr. Hollander had finally resurfaced, he needed for him to stay put until all the pieces and all the players were in position. That was Andi’s job. The next couple of days would be very critical to his plan.

  Steve turned his attention back to the business at hand. He crossed the yard to the patio and was about to reach under the table to retrieve the hidden house key when he saw the broken pane of glass in the French door. He quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching him, then peered through the door into the house. Even with the lace curtain partially obscuring his view, he could tell that someone had broken in and gone through the place. Drawers had been pulled out and the contents scattered on the floor. He hoped he was seeing the work of a common burglar, but his gut instinct told him differently. He quickly returned to his car, making sure he did not touch anything.

  He glanced at his watch. It was already one o’clock. If Andi and Jim stuck to the schedule she had outlined for him, they would be arriving within the hour. He grabbed his briefcase from the trunk and slid in behind the steering wheel. He removed a notebook and a cellular phone. A snort of disgust escaped his throat. It had been a stupid and wasted move for them to have broken into her house, obviously in search of information—stupid and desperate. He did allow a hint of a satisfied grin to tug at the corners of his mouth. The more desperate they were, the better it was for him. Desperate moves this early in the game could only lead to costly errors as things became critical.

  He dialed a number, and his call was answered on the first ring. “It’s me. I’m sitting in front of Andi’s house. They aren’t here yet, but I have no reason to suspect that things aren’t right on schedule. Is everything set up the way we discussed? We’re not going to get a second chance at this, so everyone better know exactly what they’re supposed to do.” He listened for a moment. A hint of irritation crept into his voice. “The money will be there.”

  He disconnected from that call and immediately placed another one. “I’ve got a problem. Do you have somebody available for the next few days who can do a little job for me?”

  “ANOTHER HALF HOUR and we’ll be at my house.” The drive had gone quickly for Andi, much more so than she had anticipated. Jim had driven as far as Los Angeles County, then she had taken over, claiming to be an expert at navigating the tangled web of freeways through the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area.

  “You said you live right at the beach?” He reached over and brushed a loose tendril of hair away from her cheek, pausing long enough to gently caress her smooth skin with his fingertips.

  “Yep. You walk out my backyard and down the steps and you’re on the sand.” She allowed a smile that quickly turned into a laugh.

  He looked at her quizzically, h
er infectious laugh causing him to chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

  “I was just thinking about what you said when we first met, something about why I would abandon the sunny weather of southern California for Vancouver Island in winter. As I look around at this bright, warm day it makes your question even more compelling.”

  They exited the freeway at La Jolla Village Drive and headed west. It was Jim who broke the silence, his voice carrying a very serious tone. “Pull over for a minute.”

  She quickly checked the rearview mirror and the side mirror, looking for anything that was out of place. A stab of urgency cut through her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just want to say something before we get to your house.” He felt the anxiety taking hold again as they approached the moment of truth. Once they were at her house and he had an opportunity to listen to the tape, then things would probably move very quickly. He also knew Steve Westerfall would be waiting for them. It was even possible, as much as he hated the thought, that this might be the last time they would have a chance to be alone together for a while... maybe even forever. He took a calming breath.

  Andi pulled the van over to the side of the road, then turned toward him. She tried to smooth the worry lines from his face with her fingertips. “What’s wrong, Jim? What’s bothering you?”

  He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “I might not have an opportunity to say this later. I have no idea how all of this is going to turn out or what’s in store for me, but I want you to know...” He paused as he tried to focus his train of thought and pull together the proper words. “I want to tell you how very much I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me.”

  He leaned toward her, his mouth capturing hers in a soft, loving kiss. “You’re a very special lady, Andrea Sinclair. No matter what happens, I’ll always be grateful that fate brought you into my life—” his throat tightened, and he had to force the rest of his words “—even if it’s only for a brief while.”

  “Jim?” Her voice quavered slightly as the uncertainty tried to take hold. “I don’t understand. You sound as if—”

  She abruptly stopped talking and looked away from him. She sat in silence for a moment, trying to compose her inner turmoil. Steve had been right—don’t get involved. It was bad all the way around. She had a job to do and that should be her primary concern, not how this man made her pulse race and turned her emotions inside out.

  He leaned back in his seat, staring straight ahead through the windshield. “We’d better be on our way. It’s getting late and I’m sure Steve must be waiting for us.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he is.” Andi put the van in gear, pulled away from the curb and headed straight for her house.

  She drove along the quiet side street, her attention constantly darting from one parked car to another as she approached her house. She slowed down even more as her gaze lit on the dark sedan parked at the curb. She spotted Steve sitting behind the wheel talking on his cellular phone while making notes on a small pad. As soon as she was confident that he had seen her, she continued down the block, not altering her speed or drawing undue attention to herself.

  Jim had not seen anything out of place, but sensed the change in her behavior and felt the tension level increase dramatically. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes.” Andi’s voice was calm, but there was a slight edge of apprehension to it. “Steve’s sitting in his car instead of in my house. He knows where the key is hidden, and when I drove past he didn’t wave for me to stop. He’ll meet us in the village in fifteen minutes.”

  Jim felt the knot tighten in his stomach. For a moment he had held the hope that things would go smoothly, but apparently that was not going to be the case. Obviously Andi and Steve had some sort of prearranged signal and meeting place. He remained quiet, allowing her to continue with the plan and nervously waiting to see what would happen next.

  Andi drove directly to a neighborhood pub. It was off the beaten path, one of those places where there were only locals and they all knew one another. Any strangers not in the company of a local resident would immediately stand out. They sat in a booth in a quiet corner at the back.

  Andi nervously twisted and pulled at the cocktail napkin underneath her wineglass, methodically shredding it into little pieces. She bit at her lower lip. “I don’t like it. I wish Steve would hurry up and get here so we can find out what’s wrong.”

  Jim took a sip of his beer as he watched her. He was every bit as nervous as Andi, even though his outward demeanor seemed composed. But then, he had five years of practice at living behind a facade. He tried to make his voice sound light and teasing as he reached over and touched her cheek. “You’re making minced meat out of that napkin.” He offered her an encouraging smile as he placed his hand on top of hers. She responded by lacing their fingers together.

  Steve had entered the pub and approached their table without either of them being aware of it. He immediately noticed the familiar and intimate gestures between them which only reinforced his suspicions about a personal and close relationship having already developed. His manner was all business as he turned toward Jim and extended his hand. “Jim? I’m Steve Westerfall.” The two men shook hands, then Steve sat down.

  Jim had never seen Steve Westerfall before, but the man sitting across the table from him was certainly not what he had expected. Nondescript was the only word that came to his mind. He appeared to be in his late forties, was average height, average build, average brown hair and eyes. Everything about him was ordinary. He was the type of person you would forget five minutes after meeting him. Jim figured that it was probably that very touch of the ordinary that allowed Steve to be so good at his job.

  Andi’s anxiety showed on her face and carried over in her voice. “What’s going on, Steve? What’s wrong?” She tightened her grip on Jim’s hand, seeking his reassurance and the comfort of his touch.

  “I’d like to say that the only problem is a burglar breaking into your house and stealing your television. However, what with the break-in at Keith’s office, I suspect—” He saw Andi’s eyes widen and heard her quick intake of breath. He also saw the look that darted across Jim’s face as his hazel eyes darkened and his jaw clenched into a hard line. He did not like it. It confirmed his suspicions that Jim would not be easily controlled.

  Before Steve could say anything else, Jim turned to Andi. His words carried the feel of absolute authority and were said in a clear, firm voice. “This is what I’ve been afraid of, what I tried to warn you about. Because of me you’re in physical danger.” He gently caressed her cheek with his fingertips, then twined his fingers in her short auburn curls. “This is no good, Andi. You have no idea of the ruthlessness of the people involved in this. Milo Buchanan is a very wealthy and powerful man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And what he wants is me—dead. I can’t allow you to continue to put yourself in a position where something could happen to you because of me.”

  Steve tried to inject a note of calming rationale into the conversation and assume some kind of control. “Let’s not make assumptions before we know what’s really going on. I didn’t go into your house or touch anything. As soon as I spotted the broken pane of glass in the back French door and saw things scattered around when I looked inside, I immediately turned around and went back to my car to wait for you. On the chance that this is nothing more than a common burglary, I didn’t want to disturb any evidence since you’ll need to call the police and report it. If, however...” There was no need to finish the sentence. They all knew what the implications were and what the probable truth would turn out to be.

  They left the pub after determining that Jim would ride with Steve while Andi drove to her house as if she had just arrived home from vacation. Jim and Steve would park a couple of doors down the street and wait for Andi’s signal.

  The two men rode along in silence for a few minutes as they followed Andi in the van. It was Jim who finally broke the sile
nce. His voice was not angry or argumentative, but there was no mistaking his concern and edginess. “I might as well tell you up front, I’m not at all comfortable with any of this. I trusted people five years ago, strangers who assured me they could protect me—keep me safe so that I could testify. Well, one of those strangers set me up and I’ve been running ever since. The only thing that’s kept me going the last five years was the hope that one day all of this would end and I could see that Milo Buchanan got what he deserved. Now I’ve been put into a position where I’m once again being told to trust strangers.”

  Steve gave a quick sideways glance at Jim, then returned his attention to the road. “Oh? I was under the distinct impression that you no longer considered Andi a stranger and that she did not think of you as a story she was investigating or a book she was researching.”

  Jim did not respond to Steve’s pointed comment, choosing instead to make one of his own. “I consider you to be a complete stranger.” He did not give Steve an opportunity to reply as he continued to let him know exactly where he stood. “I want to know about this informant you’ve uncovered. Who is he and how did you find him?”

  “One of my contacts was approached by a man who said he knew someone who had information to sell. I know that sounds a little vague, someone that we don’t know knows someone else who has information, but it’s how things begin, then we build from there.”

  “So, you’ve neither seen nor talked with any of these people. How about your contact? Does he know either of these two people personally?”

  “No. That’s why I’m being cautious with this bit of information. It almost sounds like too much of a stroke of good luck—too easy.”

  Jim’s head snapped around and he stared at Steve. His strong words left no question about his intentions or feelings. “Andi said she was going to meet with this informant. I was dead set against it before I knew the circumstances. Now I absolutely forbid it. I won’t have anyone’s life put in jeopardy because of me.” His voice softened. “Especially Andi’s.”