by Cathie Linz
“A girlfriend just broke up with a jerk of a man. I told her she was right to dump him. A guy who can’t make a commitment isn’t worth wasting her time on.”
Far from being crushed by her disdain, Ryan seemed amused. “Speaking from personal experience were you?”
“Absolutely. Not that Fred is anything like that. He’s much more centered.”
“Rooted is more the term I’d use,” Ryan said. “Or atrophied would also apply.”
She glared at him.
“What?” he demanded with feigned innocence.
“I should have expected that you’d feel threatened by a man as sure of himself as Fred.”
“Me? Threatened? By Fred?” Ryan laughed. “That’s a good one. For a minute there I thought you were actually serious.”
“I was serious. Obviously you’re not” She kicked his sleeping bag in a way that made him think she wished it was him she was kicking. That gave him hope. Because now she was acting more like the passionate woman he’d known in Chicago and not the uptight conservative clone she’d been when he’d first walked in the bank.
“I see you’ve still got a temper,” he noted with approval.
“If I really still had a temper, you’d have a black eye.” Her cheeks glowed with anger. “You seem bent on butting into my life and messing everything up. You’ve got your belongings strewn all over my living room.”
He grinned. Yep, this was more like the Courtney he’d known. And lusted after. And bedded. All he had to do was keep pushing her buttons and he’d get the results he wanted. “Sorry about that, sis.”
“Don’t push your luck, buster.” The sound of her bedroom door slamming made his grin widen. He was getting to her all right. Yes, siree.
RYAN WAS THUMBING through one of her magazines when Courtney finally sashayed out of her bedroom thirty minutes later. She’d changed out of her beige suit into beige chinos and a preppie white oxford shirt. Her hair was the only untamed thing about her. She’d undone it and let it fall loose.
“I’m glad you didn’t cut your hair.” The words slipped from his lips.
She didn’t verbally acknowledge his comment, but she did grab for a hair barrette from the coffee table and gather her hair back into a more restrained ponytail.
Before Ryan could annoy her some more, Fred arrived.
“You look charming.” Putting his arm around Courtney, he kissed her. It was all Ryan could do not to grab the little wimp and punch his lights out. “Are you ready?”
“We’re both ready,” Ryan replied even though the question was directed to Courtney. “I figured you wouldn’t mind my tagging along.”
“I do mind.” Courtney glared at him.
Ryan flashed her a warning look. “You’re such a kidder, sis.” He draped an arm around her shoulders, thereby nudging Fred aside.
Courtney stepped on Ryan’s toes. But it was like a mosquito landing on a rhino, for all the effect her dainty gym shoes had on his heavy-duty running shoes.
Ryan grinned at her while jauntily inquiring, “Where are we all off to this evening?”
“The drive-in.” Courtney wiggled away from him to stand closer to Fred and glare at Ryan. “Not your cup of tea.”
“I love drive-ins,” Ryan insisted. “Surely you remember that about me, sis.” Turning his attention to the geeky banker, Ryan added, “So, Frank, have you met the rest of Courtney’s family or am I the first?”
“His name is Fred!” Courtney growled.
“Right.” Ryan’s nod was dismissive rather than at all apologetic.
“I only met her uncle once,” Fred replied.
“Ah, good old uncle Anton.” Ryan’s attention returned to the case. “When did you meet him?”
“Last Christmas.”
“And that was the last time you saw or heard from him?”
Fred nodded. “That’s right.”
“So what did you think of him?” Ryan asked again.
“He seemed like a nice gentleman.”
Nice? Try wily as a coyote. Ryan tapped down his anger at being taken for a fool by Courtney’s uncle.
“And what did Anton think of you, Fred?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“He liked Fred very much,” Courtney insisted.
For some reason Ryan doubted that. He had a hard time seeing the fun-loving Anton getting along with the uptight Fred. In the old days Courtney used to brag that she’d gotten her love for life from her uncle.
In those days, Anton had had a bohemian approach to things. Except his niece. Anton had been surprisingly old-fashioned about her. And as protective as hell. Which is why Ryan was certain that Anton would contact Courtney, if for no other reason than to assure himself of her safety. As soon as he called, they’d have him, provided he stayed on the line long enough for the tap on her phone to work, which shouldn’t be a problem given Anton’s normal longwindedness.
“So Anton liked you, Fred. That’s nice to hear.” Ryan’s voice made it clear that he thought the opposite.
“Yes, well…if we don’t leave now we’ll be late for the movie,” Fred said with a worried look at his expensive watch.
“If you must come with us, you can follow us in your car,” Courtney told Ryan.
“I thought we’d carpool. Conserve gasoline, you know.” Seeing the look on her face, Ryan relented. “Then again, maybe I should just follow you in my car.”
ONCE SHE WAS SEATED in the passenger seat of Fred’s silver luxury car and they were on their way to the drive-in, he noted, “Your half brother seems possessive of you. Why haven’t you ever mentioned him before?”
“We’ve been out of touch for a few years.”
“Really?” Fred pulled to a stop at the only traffic light in Fell, which always seemed to turn red whenever Courtney was in the vicinity. “Why is that?”
“Um, we had a fight”
“Oh. Then why is he staying with you? Is he making a nuisance of himself?”
Of course Ryan was making a nuisance of himself but she couldn’t tell Fred that.
“If he is,” Fred added, patting her knee, “I’ll give him the old heave-ho.”
That’s all she’d need, Fred and Ryan in a rumble. She patted Fred’s hand before returning it to the steering wheel. “There’s no need. My brother is a little strange, but he’s harmless.”
“You’re sure?”
“I can handle Ryan,” she said, praying her words would not come back to haunt her.
The drive-in, on the southern edge of town, was playing an action-packed movie that was probably already in the video stores in Portland. But life was slower here in Fell.
Ryan pulled up right behind them as they took the turnoff into the theater. She’d hoped that it would be crowded, forcing Ryan to park farther away, but luck wasn’t going her way. He parked in the space next to theirs and then had the audacity to wave at her.
Actually Ryan had to wave or risk giving in to the temptation to wring Fred’s neck. The guy drove a car that Ryan had lusted after for the past two years. And he had his arm draped around the woman Ryan had…The woman he’d what? Had incredible sex with? Had lived with? Had let go? Had haunted his memory ever since?
Ryan wasn’t able to put a label on Courtney. And at the moment, he wasn’t able to get within ten feet of her.
He had the feeling she was deliberately snuggling up to Fred in the front seat. He hoped the car had a stick shift that would get in their way. He hoped this case didn’t drive him crazy before he caught up with Anton. And he hoped that he’d get to kiss Courtney at least once before this was all over.
THE COMING ATTRACTIONS were rolling while the tiny speaker attached to the window provided the sound. The click of the car’s back door opening made Courtney jump and spill her box of popcorn in her lap.
“Hi, there,” Ryan said as he slid into the back seat. “I just visited the concession stand and picked up more than I can handle, so I thought I’d come on over and offer to share.” He held out a hug
e box of buttered popcorn between the bucket front seats. “Dig right in. Oh, look, this clip is really great. I love the part where the aliens land.”
He might love the clip, but he’d never loved her. Courtney wanted to clobber him.
Then things went from bad to worse as Ryan cheerfully said, “So, Fred, exactly what are your intentions toward my sister?”
3
“DON’T ANSWER THAT question, Fred,” Courtney ordered, her voice trembling with anger. “Ryan is an inveterate practical joker and this is just another example of him kidding around.”
“Hey, I was just looking out for your best interests,” Ryan maintained.
“I know exactly what you were doing.” How could she not, when he’d surreptitiously slid his hand around the side of the seat near the door to caress her shoulder. “And I want you to stop it right now.”
Fred cleared his throat. “Ahem, the movie has started.”
“You’re right. The movie has started. So be quiet, Ryan.” She covertly batted his hand away.
“Yes, ma’am.” Laughter was evident in his voice.
She wished she could also order Ryan to keep his hands to himself, but there was no way she could do that with Fred sitting beside her. She couldn’t even give Ryan a reprimanding look because it was dark in the car’s interior, which allowed Ryan to get into all kinds of mischief.
While Fred sedately held her left hand, Ryan teased her right arm from the tip of her shoulder clear to her inner wrist, each feathery brush of his fingertips burning right through the cotton of her shirt. She tried ignoring him, but when Ryan gently tugged on the back of her collar in order to steal secret caresses across the sensitive nape of her neck, she knew she was in deep trouble. Time was supposed to heal wounds; you’d think it would also dilute the powerful impact of Ryan’s touch.
But, no. Instead it was as if she were split down the middle, with the sensible side of her leaning closer to Fred while her wild side responded to Ryan’s temptation.
Ryan’s warm thumb brushed her earlobe. “Are you cold?” Fred asked in concern as he saw her shiver.
“I’m fine.” Courtney’s voice was unsteady, just like her heartbeat as Ryan rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers.
“You seem to be shivering,” Fred said.
“The movie is scaring me.” The movie…and her reaction to Ryan’s touch. She shouldn’t be this susceptible, not after all this time. What was wrong with her? Whatever it was, she needed to get it fixed pronto.
Was Ryan fingering her bra strap? Trying to slide it off her shoulder? Outraged, she captured his wandering fingers and pinched them. Muffled laughter from the back told her she’d finally gotten his attention, but he obviously still wasn’t taking her seriously.
Sure enough, seconds later his fingers traced the curve of her ear. Had he remembered that she’d been particularly susceptible to being touched there? Did he know how she’d used to melt when he’d lazily swirl his fingertips over her skin that way?
He knew. He remembered. She could tell by the confidence of his touch. He was doing this deliberately to drive her crazy.
She wouldn’t let him. She refused to allow herself to fall back into bad habits. And she was not about to give Ryan the upper hand. Or the lower one, either.
She cautiously turned her head toward the passenger door, away from Fred and toward Ryan’s seductive teasing. When she felt the brush of his fingers across her lips, for a moment, the memories of his touch were so strongly resurrected in her soul that she almost gave in.
This isn’t about you. It’s about me. About my future.
Ryan’s words replayed in her mind, snapping her out of her Ryan-induced trance. Even now, this wasn’t about her, it was about Ryan and his job as a U.S. Marshal. He’d do anything to recapture her uncle. Including seduce her.
His index finger strayed to her parted lips. A second later she snapped her teeth down on his wayward digit and bit him. His muffled exclamation told her that this time she’d not only gotten his attention, but was being taken seriously.
“You okay back there?” Fred asked.
“Just dandy.” Just randy was closer to the truth, Ryan thought to himself ruefully. What had started out as a way of teasing Courtney had ended up as a way of driving him nuts. He was as wound up and hard as a teenager. He’d meant to test Courtney’s responsiveness, but instead had tested his own self-restraint and found it disturbingly rocky.
He had a job to do here, as he’d told her any number of times. And if seducing Courtney, or playing on their former relationship would speed up the process of tracking down Anton, then so be it. He hadn’t gone looking for trouble, hadn’t volunteered for this job. He was just a law enforcement official obeying a direct command.
Upon further reflection Ryan decided that this mess was actually more Anton’s fault than his. If the older man had just stayed put, Courtney and Ryan wouldn’t be caught up in this mess.
There was a lot at stake here. The counterfeiting case. Ryan’s reputation. Anton’s safety. Courtney’s safety.
Ryan didn’t want Courtney getting hurt. He doubted she truly realized the seriousness of the situation. She’d never been one to look on the dark side of life. Her rose-colored glasses had been firmly perched atop her adorable nose. At least that’s the way the Courtney he’d known in Chicago had been.
This new Courtney had him confused. Until he’d touched her. Then the old flare of physical recognition and passion had immediately come to life. He hadn’t been sure it would. He’d just been testing the waters, so to speak. He hadn’t intended getting inundated with a tidal wave himself.
Ryan had known he wouldn’t be the best man for this case. He’d known she wouldn’t be pleased at his reappearance in her life. He hadn’t known she’d be involved with a pencil-pushing wimp.
But that didn’t change things, because now that Ryan was here, he didn’t trust the job of protecting her to anyone else. Even if it meant protecting her from herself.
“DID YOU SEE THAT? She bit him!” Muriel sounded deeply offended as she paced across the speaker attached to the car window.
“They have the volume turned up much too loud on this thing,” Betty stated from the other side of the voice box.
“You can see the movie better from up here.” Hattie’s voice floated down to them from the car roof.
“We don’t have time to be watching movies,” Muriel retorted impatiently. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Ryan is your charge,” Hattie reminded her. “I’m just here to help you out, sort of in an advisory capacity.”
“Then advise, Miss Smarty-pants.”
Hattie leaned over the edge of the car roof to proclaim, “My advice is to stop wearing that khaki vest, Muriel. It doesn’t do you justice. Makes you look a little jaundiced. I keep offering to give you a makeover. After all, I did a pretty good job on Heather in our first assignment.”
“I don’t want a makeover!” Muriel sounded ready to chew nails. “I want some suggestions on dealing with Ryan and Courtney. She’s dating Fred. At least Heather wasn’t dating anyone else.”
Hattie sniffed. “Dating doesn’t mean Courtney loves him.”
“She certainly doesn’t act like she loves Ryan,” Muriel noted tartly. “She looks ready to rip his heart out.”
“Well, he does have some lost ground to make up for,” Hattie admitted. “He did break her heart back in Chicago. You can’t blame her if she isn’t real eager to give him a second chance.”
Muriel’s expression darkened. “Maybe it would be better if I got Fred out of the picture.”
“Absolutely not.” Hattie stood on the car roof with hands on her hips as she glared down at her siblings. “My stars, you know how much more complicated things got when we tried to interfere with Jason and Heather. As it is, we’ve prompted that dear man Anton to go into hiding in order to get Ryan involved.”
“He’s involved with the case,” Betty amended. “Not with Courtney.”
Hattie clutched her hat as a sudden gust of wind picked up. “We just need to give it time.”
“We don’t have tons of that,” Muriel declared. “We can’t keep the Zopos at bay forever. We’ve been able to sabotage their efforts so far by messing up their computer search, but doing that kind of stuff is a little outside of our field.”
“Speak for yourself,” Betty declared. “I for one am a big fan of mysteries.” With a wave of her magic wand she added a Columbo-style tan raincoat over her T-shirt and denim skirt. “And this case has all the makings of a good one.” She rubbed her hands in anticipation, nearly setting her magic wand on fire in the process.
Muriel remained glum. “It also has the makings of a disaster.”
“HOW HARD CAN IT BE?” Caesar Zopo demanded, his thin mustache quivering with emotion. His eyes were so dark they nearly blended with the pupils. Although he’d celebrated his fiftieth birthday last month, there was no sign of gray in his midnight black hair. “I give you just one job, a job I’d only have my trusted brother, blood of my blood, do. And now you come back to me and say you can’t do this? You can’t track down one niece?”
Brutus, younger, shorter and much heavier than his brother, bowed his head in the wake of Caesar’s disapproval before trying to plead his case. “I’ve tried, Caesar. I need more time—”
Caesar held up his hand, his fingernails perfectly manicured and buffed to a shine. “I don’t want to hear any excuses.” His voice was smooth and deadly. “I just want answers. Where is this niece of Anton Leva’s?”
“Somewhere in the Northwest. I think.” Brutus lifted his hand to bite his thumbnail before catching himself. His brother hated his weakness, as he called it. “But the computer spit out a list of several hundred women who could be his niece. I would never have thought that many would fit the profile, but they do. I checked the program several times.”
“Then check it again. And track down every woman on that list. Call them and see which one is the niece. Because we get the niece and we’ve got Leva. Right where we want him.”