Covert Attraction

by Linda O. Johnston

  And that made Beth want to cry with frustration all over again.

  Chapter 18

  Daniel had already known that Judge Treena hadn’t been completely satisfied with his accomplishments so far. But at least they had resulted in her success in getting another official FDA inspection for cause started.

  He felt sure that something useful would occur this weekend. The end of their search? He hoped so.

  Now, after hanging up with the judge, he went about setting his table, getting the delicious-looking Italian dinner Beth had brought in ready to be served. Unimportant but necessary stuff to get him to calm down.

  He tried even harder to avoid taking Beth into his arms again, no matter how much his body ached to do so—and how much her curves snuggled against him would help to boost his sagging mood. But her sadness and frustration, or whatever she was feeling, had made her stay remote from him since the call, both physically and emotionally.

  It was better that way. And he needed to back off, too. Both ways.

  Rather than joining him, helping him get their dinner ready, she had turned his TV on and now watched a stupid sitcom. She pretended to be captivated by it.

  He could pretend, too, to want to watch while sitting next to her. Close by her side.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. Not now.

  Lord, how he wanted to reassure her. To tell her that the message she had received from her parents meant nothing. She would be fine. They would be fine.

  But even if he said that in all sincerity, she would undoubtedly claim to believe it, but she wouldn’t. And neither did he.

  He would keep her safe, though. He had to.

  But the ups and downs—the SUV that had followed her, the driver’s capture and then the message from her parents—it was no wonder that she was upset. Even distraught.

  She was a strong person, but it was too much.

  He had to make sure this situation was finally resolved—fast. At least he appeared to be gaining some credibility as a lab technician. He’d been told that day that his responsibilities would be increased a bit more, with less supervision.

  And that should help him achieve his ultimate goal.

  He glanced at where Beth sat on his sofa, the remote control for the TV gripped in her slender fingers so tightly that it appeared she might want to try to use it to control not only what channel she was watching but the entire world.

  Or at least her part of it.

  Okay, he stopped resisting. He crossed the room and sat beside her.

  She glanced at him. Her body language suggested she didn’t want him any closer. That didn’t mean he had to obey it.

  “Here,” he said. “Let’s raise the volume a little.” He planted his butt beside hers, ostensibly to reach the remote in her hand more easily. He was near enough to feel the heat of her stiff and slender body when he increased the sound level and handed her back the remote. He stayed right where he was.

  “You like this show?” She sounded dubious.

  “Not one of my faves. Believe it or not, I like some of the crime-scene types of shows. They teach me things.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, like how forensics and investigations don’t really work.”

  “How do you know that?” He smiled, and as she glanced at him, he saw her try hard not to return the look. Fortunately, she lost that struggle, and her face lit up in a grin.

  She was beautiful even when frowning, but now he wanted badly to take her into his arms again and kiss that beaming mouth.

  “I watch those forensics shows sometimes, sure, but I also listen to the critics and read about them online. I did it even more when I was trying hard to figure out how to protect myself before I fled from this place.” She sighed, and that lovely, tempting smile disappeared.

  He put his arm around her shoulder and felt her stiffen even more. He had an urge to kiss her anyway until she melted into his embrace again, then almost snorted in derision at himself. Yeah, as if manhandling her now would make her fall into his arms...and back into his bed.

  That gave him another thought. He didn’t want her to be alone that night, not when they didn’t know who was doing what around here. It could be even more dangerous to her.

  So, reluctantly, yet knowing he had no choice if he wanted the chance to watch over her, he rose and headed toward the kitchen. “Let’s grab our dinner. I put it in the oven. It should be warm enough by now. I want a beer with it. You?”

  “Sure.” She followed him into the kitchen. “I never asked if you were okay with what I brought.”

  “How could anyone say no to a free meal—gourmet Italian, no less. Or are you going to extract payment from me?” He hoped that the banter would get her mind off whatever she was thinking right now. Cheer her up again.

  “No, no payback. Unless you consider my expecting you to leave me alone some kind of fee.”

  He felt almost as if she had sucker punched him. Especially when she regarded him coolly with those violet eyes, waiting for his answer.

  “Nope. I get it. In fact, that’s what I want, too.” And he did. He needed to back off in all ways—except keeping her safe. And fulfilling his mission, of course, which now required her participation. But no emotional involvement. That was a given. “We’re working toward the same goal, and we need to look like more than acquaintances if anyone sees us together on the job, but we don’t actually need to be best buddies—or more—to achieve what we need to.”

  Though she nodded, he saw a slight twinge of something pass over her face. Regret? Or was he just hoping for some sign that she’d enjoyed their sex together, too?

  He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of anything more between them. She kept putting herself in danger, and he despised that.

  He might protect her with his life, but when this was all over, and she remained alive and safe and out of his life, he’d have gotten all he wanted.

  As she reached the stove and looked in to check on how their dinner was heating, he headed for the refrigerator. He extracted two bottles of his favorite dark amber beer. He could always go back for more. Or even something stronger.

  He had a feeling he would need something to boost his own spirits that evening, even as he remained in full control of his faculties while sparring verbally with this difficult—yet utterly hot—and completely frustrating woman.

  * * *

  Beth wanted to go home to her apartment that night. She yearned to be alone.

  Only, if she were by herself, she might overthink the situation even more. They were at a point where something was likely to happen. The FDA’s presence would probably act as a catalyst, if nothing else.

  Would it be something good? Or something bad?

  And after that message from her parents, she could only assume the latter, potentially aimed at her.

  Even so, when Daniel suggested that she stay at his place for the night for her own protection, she wanted to scorn the idea. Tell him she would be fine. Then drive home and go to bed. Alone.

  Except for her thoughts, her concerns, her fears.

  As a result, instead of being certain and firm, she waffled at first. “I don’t know....”

  “I do.”

  They were in the kitchen. She had insisted on helping to rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He had stayed there, too, and although his kitchen was significantly larger than hers, she’d had to be very careful not to bump into him.

  Touching him, even inadvertently, would still give her mutinous body ideas, especially if she did give in and agree to stay the night.

  Now she turned decisively away from the sink and faced him. “Daniel, I appreciate what you’re doing. But your job with the CIU is to collect the evidence I didn’t find, not to protect me.”

  “As it tu
rns out,” he said wryly, “I’m not happy about how effective I’ve been so far at my real assignment, so at least I can do something good for the cause.”

  So she was part of the cause. His efforts to help her were part of his job.

  Their lovemaking, assuming he had enjoyed it even a fraction as much as she had—and he’d seemed to—was just a perk.

  That thought made her want to flee even more. But practically, she needed to come up with a plan.

  And the only plan she had at the moment was to march into the Corcoris facilities—well, slouch her way in, in her usual guise—and find a way to finally help unearth something that the FDA or Daniel could use. Especially now, after the additional threats.

  Worrying all night about her safety—and her future—wouldn’t help her achieve what she wanted that weekend.

  “Okay, then, I’ll help you start feeling better with yourself,” she told him. She smiled as she said it, not wanting to add her own jab against his ability to do his job successfully.

  Besides, she remained grateful to him for all he had been doing.

  “Then you’ll stay here?” His handsome face brightened so much that she almost laughed. And fought an urge to give him a big mind-blowing kiss.

  “Yes, but I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said in a tone intended to brook no contradiction.

  But he did contradict it. “No need. And neither will I. My bed is big enough for us both to sleep there. And I do mean sleep. I’ll keep my hands off you, as long as you keep yours off me.”

  * * *

  Daniel felt damned proud of himself as he settled into his bed that night.

  He had put on a loose T-shirt and sweatpants that were probably the most sexless things he owned—except for the similar clothes that he’d given Beth to put on.

  A couple of indifferent people in unattractive garb, that was what they were.

  Even so, when he got into bed after Beth was already lying down and staying as stiff as a statue on her side, he said, “Want me to roll a sheet to put between us as a barrier?”

  The look she aimed at him was incredulous at first, and then she smiled.

  That was when he noticed that her eyes were actually hazel. As he had suspected, the violet color must have been contact lenses, donned as part of her identity change. She hadn’t taken them out before when he was around, as if she wanted to constantly keep up the ruse of who she had become, even with someone who knew who she was.

  When they had engaged in that phenomenal sex together, her Beth persona was far from the shy character who mopped floors and scrubbed sinks.

  But now she might be retreating into her Andrea Martinez self. For tonight, at least. And who knew how sexy Andrea was, even though they shared the same body and undoubtedly more?

  “Nope. I’ve got plenty of self-control.” She crossed her arms over her gorgeous breasts, which were hidden beneath that large ugly green T-shirt yet clearly loose—and tempting. It looked like a challenge. She confirmed that by adding, “How about you?”

  “Yep. Besides, I think we both need a good night’s sleep tonight, not sex.” He lay down as close to the edge of the bed as was practical without falling off, but he didn’t cross his arms. Instead, he just lay on his back, arms at his sides.

  Yes, his body was definitely aware of hers. That was evident, thanks to the ache he felt below. His physical interest was bound to be clear to her, too, because of the obvious bulge beneath his gray sweatpants.

  “Okay to turn out the lights?” he asked. He turned slightly toward her.

  Oh, yeah, she had noticed his arousal. That was clear from the way she quickly glanced away from him up at the ceiling. “Yes, fine. Good night, Daniel.”

  “Good night, Beth.” He let his voice rumble a little, teasingly, seductively.

  Let her think about that as she tried to fall asleep.

  * * *

  Beth lay for a while in the darkness, listening to Daniel’s breathing shift from shallow to much deeper as he fell asleep.

  Damn the man. She knew he’d been teasing her, but even so, her body had responded, tightening and even moistening from her attraction to him.

  But eventually, she felt herself start to relax until she finally drifted into sleep.

  Which was interrupted—what time was it? She glanced toward the window across the room. A little bit of light slid in around the closed curtain. Was it dawn already?

  What was that buzzer?

  “Who the hell is here this early?” grumbled Daniel from beside her.

  “Is that someone at the door?” Beth suddenly felt petrified. Could a person from Corcoris be here after Daniel? After her?

  “Yeah. Don’t worry.” He looked at her in the dimness, and she saw the grim set to his strong chin, the way his hands clenched into fists at his side. “There’s a good security system. I’d have to buzz whoever it is inside, and I’m not inclined to do that at this hour, whoever it is.”

  Even so, fully awake now, Beth padded after him in her bare feet as he exited the bedroom and went to the intercom in the wall beside the apartment’s door. He pushed the button and grumbled, “Yeah? Who is it?”

  “It’s Judge Treena Avalon, Daniel. Let me in.”

  Chapter 19

  Judge Treena smiled grimly as she walked up the stairs toward Daniel McManus’s ID Department–funded apartment here in Moravo Beach. It was almost six-thirty in the morning, and she saw no one else in the halls or on the stairs.

  She had a pretty good idea what—who—she would find at Daniel’s place. She had stopped first at the building in a small nearby town where her operatives had located an apartment rented recently by “Beth Jones.” No one had been home.

  Daniel and Beth had confirmed to her that they were working together now to bring Corcoris down. But she also felt sure that wasn’t all they were doing together.

  She didn’t care what her operatives did on their own time. She did care, though, what those whose identities she had helped to change did afterward.

  Putting themselves back in danger, in the same situation that had led to their need for an identity change? That was definitely one of her biggest taboos.

  When she reached the unit with the number she’d sought, she didn’t have to knock. Daniel stood there with the door open.

  “Hello, Judge,” he said. “Come in. What—?”

  “What am I doing here?” she interrupted. “Checking out the operation that I helped to set up. And—”

  She stopped and crossed her arms as she glared into the living room of the compact apartment and saw exactly whom she’d expected sitting there watching the door while chewing on her bottom lip.

  “—coming to check on one of my Transformation Unit ID-change subjects.” She strode into the living room and stopped by the couch, looking down angrily at Beth. “I understand about the threats and all. And I’m doing something about that. But would you care to tell me, Ms. Jones, exactly why you’re not only ignoring my most ironclad rule for TU subjects who receive new identities, but you’re also ignoring my after-the-fact insistence that you go back home and let the CIU do its job?”

  * * *

  Beth felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. But she wouldn’t let it show. She couldn’t.

  She looked at the woman who had helped to save her life, who had gone all out to make sure that the man who had threatened her life and tried to sexually assault her had no idea where—or who—she was.

  The woman she admired so much. Whom she trusted and...well, yes, even loved like a caring aunt.

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor. I understand that your rules are designed to keep me safe.” As well as to keep the Covert Investigations Unit part of the Identity Division as undercover as its operatives, but mentioning that now would buy Beth nothing. “But...well, wi
th my family still being threatened and no answers found yet, I just had to come back.”

  Judge Treena appeared to be in her early fifties. She was tall and slender and had a lovely face that, had she decided to take another route when younger, could have led her into a career as a model or actress.

  But she had made it clear when they’d first met that she had chosen to take on very different kinds of roles—first in courtrooms as a litigating attorney and then presiding over those courtrooms as a federal judge.

  She had specialized in criminal cases and had seen the injustices of what happened to people in danger because they happened to know bad things about potential felons who couldn’t be prosecuted because of lack of evidence.

  That was why, she’d told Andrea, she had found the right people within the U.S. Marshals office to allow her to help create the Identity Division as a nonwitness protection program so she could change the identities of those who were threatened—and conduct investigations to find the evidence that those in danger lacked.

  Judge Treena’s pretty face was aging, with lines that suggested myriad frowns at the wrong people over the years. Her hair was a soft shade of blond, a wavy nest about her face that she didn’t seem to care much about styling.

  Beth had mostly seen her in dark business suits like she wore now.

  The judge stood over Beth and looked down assessingly. “Maybe,” she said. “Even so, you could have left here again when I told you to. But I have a feeling there’s more involved than your hanging out to try to help your family.” She turned her head to look tellingly toward Daniel.

  “It’s nothing like that, Judge,” he said. “Since Beth was followed by that car thief, she’s received a message from her family that there have been more threats against them—and her. I’m just helping to keep her safe.”

  What he said was entirely correct, but it still pierced Beth. They had no relationship, just occasional bouts of sex to relieve tension.

  And she herself had made it clear it could go no further.