The commander laughed. “You’re right. Reaper always did channel an inner Grinch this time of the year.”
“Reaper?” Her head snapped back, and eyes lit with interest. “That’s your SEAL handle?”
He cocked his head. “Yes.”
“I gave it to him myself,” Knight said, a measure of pride in his tone. “His aim was unmatched, and unlike the song, enemies did fear him.”
She narrowed her eyes, then nodded. “Suits you.”
Unsure if it was a compliment or not, he decided to take it as one and nodded back, before changing the subject. “Kamal had complained about Tariq burning the section of the newspaper that had listed community events. I’m betting there was something of interest on that list.”
“Any evidence of it in the ash?” Knight asked.
“No.” Bella shook her head. “The only thing bigger than ash was the piece of paper I photographed and sent you with the letters MPSI on it.”
“Our technician ran it through his computers, and cross-referenced with your local businesses and letterhead and found a match to Simpson Enterprises. Alan Simpson is a bigwig from the big apple who owns the Capris with a silent partner from the west coast.”
Bella’s chin lifted. “Every year he throws a large holiday party for his office employees and all the dealers at his shore house, just up the road in Brigantine. And by house, I mean huge, sprawling mansion.”
“When is it?” Knight asked.
“This Friday.” Bella grinned. “Two days from now.”
“Good. That’ll give my guy time to hack into security, so Brooke can be your eyes when you take Matteo as your date and copy Simpson’s hard drives.”
She blinked. “I’m more than capable of doing that on my own.”
“You’re not going alone,” Matteo ground out, as all the anxiety and emotion from the past hour came crashing back.
“He’s right, Bella,” Knight chimed in. “If Simpson is involved with terrorists, he has the money and the power to back something big.”
“And to be a real threat,” he added, refusing to let her go without him.
She blew out a breath. “Fine. He probably has more than one computer, anyhow.”
“Get some rest,” Knight said. “Things are going to heat up.”
Matteo barely held back a snort. Truer words. His gaze met Bella’s, but the hunger and need were gone, replaced by a closed calm.
Her walls were back up. “Will do.”
“See you tomorrow,” Knight said, before the line went dead.
“Do you want the couch or the bed?” she asked, arms folded across her chest in a classic ward-off stance.
“Couch,” he replied, ignoring the “warding”. “But we need to talk.”
Her gaze slowly narrowed. “About what?”
“Are you kidding?” He reeled back. “About the fact you snuck out of here and into the damn building without me. What the hell were you thinking?”
She unfolded her arms to jam her hands on her hips. “I hate to break it to you, frogman, but I am more than capable of performing a snatch n’ grab on my own.”
“That’s not the point.”
“No?” Her chin lifted. “Then what is?”
“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
Her posture relaxed and some of the fight disappeared from her stance. “I’d do just about anything for you, but don’t think for one minute that what I did tonight was strictly for you. I did it for me, too. He may be your father, but he’s my godfather—my second father. So, I did it for me too.”
He should’ve realized that, but unexpectedly running into her today had fucked up his brain. He nodded. “Thanks, by the way.”
A smile tugged her lips. “No need. We’re like family, right?”
Not like she thought. Never like that. But that was an argument for another time. “Look, I just want you to know you don’t have to go it on your own. Not while I’m around.”
She cocked her head as the warmth faded from her gaze. “Yeah, well, you haven’t been around, Matteo. You took off. Married the Navy, and left me behind. So I’ve learned to improvise.”
Ouch.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, Bella…”
“No. Don’t.” She held up a hand and shook her head. “You don’t get to say anything, just because it suits you now. Forget it. I’m going to bed.”
Swiping her backpack off the floor, she strode into the bedroom and shut the door. The ominous sound of the lock clicking in place was a blatant emphasis that this time, she was putting up the barriers, closing doors—shutting him out of her life.
But it wasn’t going to work.
He was a SEAL, and known for his persistence. He’d already made up his mind to break the promise to his dad, and once Matteo made up his mind, he didn’t turn back. It was a waste of time and energy. Both precious.
Something he came to realize when his mother dropped dead from a massive heart attack while putting up Christmas decorations five years ago. Another reason to hate the holidays. The anniversary of her death was fast approaching. Hopefully, this mission would keep him too damn busy to dwell on it.
He’d rather think about Bella, and how much fun it was going to be to break through her walls and put their chemistry to the test.
***
By the time Friday evening approached, Bella was ready to get on with the mission. The more time she spent around Matteo, the more cracks appeared in the wall around her heart, giving her old feelings a chance to surface.
Sure, it’d be amazing for a while. But she knew how it would all end. She wasn’t stupid. He was a SEAL, and he’d return to the teams, once his father recovered. And Angelo Santarelli was too stubborn not to.
So, once again, Matteo would leave her on the beach with her heart exposed and bleeding while he disappeared into the sunset.
She couldn’t go through that again.
Refused to go through it again.
With luck, tonight would be the night to put things right. She had a good feeling about it. There was something on Simpson’s computers to point her in Rasheed’s direction, and that meant she could complete her actual mission.
Hanging out with Knight and Brooke was fine—fun even—but at the end of the day, Bella answered to a different boss. Her phone call with the General this morning, reaffirmed her focus.
Find and neutralize Rasheed.
Lord knew she’d love nothing more.
Okay, there were a few other things, but they all involved Matteo. Naked. And she’d already decided that was a bad idea, and moved on.
Mostly.
Dammit. Awareness fluttered through her belly.
Waste of time.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom at home, she smoothed her hands over her hips and studied her reflection. The red dress was festive, yet sexy, with thin straps, a plunging neckline, and a right leg slit from hem to thigh.
Brooke walked into the room, her dark brown ponytail swinging as she stopped dead and whistled. “You trying to give Matteo a heart attack? Or make him eat his heart out by showing him what he passed up?”
The astute woman was the only one who knew her history with Matteo. Or lack of one. “Something like that.”
“Well, this dress will do it.” Brooke nodded. “Might I suggest you only pull some of your hair up, so it exposes just enough neck to tantalize?”
Bella smiled. “Ooh, you’re good.” She quickly pinned up the sides, tugged a few pieces loose to soften the look, then paused to wonder what in the world she was doing.
This wasn’t a date. It was a mini mission to copy hard drives, not tease Matteo. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
To hell with it. She could do both.
Adding the diamond necklace and earring set her father had given her mother at Christmas, a week before his death, Bella embraced the sense of retribution nearly at hand.
“Tell me you have s
ome do-me heels?” Brooke’s gaze met hers in the mirror.
She grinned and opened her closet. “Several.”
Never had their friendship made more sense. Except for that time they took out a pair of Russian mobsters, using knives they both concealed strapped to their thighs.
Tonight, Bella wore one on her left leg.
“Perfect.” Brooke rubbed her hands together in a rare show of emotion. “Those. Definitely.” Her friend pointed to a pair of black stilettos with diamond encrusted straps. “They go with your necklace.”
Bella sat on the bed to slip into the heels, and had just finished buckling the straps when a knock sounded on the front door. Her heart rocked, and stomach fluttered. Which was foolish, because this wasn’t an actual date.
“I’ll get it,” Brooke said, disappearing out the door before Bella could blink.
Or get up. She was still sitting on the bed. Which was probably a good thing, since her legs were unusually shaky.
Which was bullshit.
Daring her legs to buckle, she rose to her feet, straightened her spine, and walked out to greet Matteo.
Chapter Eight
Since their full-body contact wrestling match against the apartment wall the other night, Bella appeared to go through pains not to be alone with him. Matteo recognized the play. Hell, he’d mastered it during his youth, in order to resist her lure.
But, unlike the youthful Bella, Matteo gave her the space she sought. Knight and Brooke took over the surveillance at the apartment, which left the two of them free to go back to their houses, and regular routines. He continued to work at the pizza shop, making it a point to chat up more of the locals, and local store owners. Some were nice. Other’s leery, while two were downright rude.
According to Omar, the brother and sister duo were French-Canadian, and won no popularity contest amongst the other shop owners. And even though they wanted top dollar for their rugs, and silk scarves, jewelry, and pottery from around the world, they managed to stay in business for almost three years now.
That put them on the top of his list of possible importers of the human kind. In case the Simpson thing was a bust tonight.
Was it bad that he suddenly couldn’t wait to get to the study? Not because of the hard drives they needed to download, but because of the stunning woman who’d just walked into her living room and sucked all the air from his lungs.
Holy shit. She looked amazing.
But…where the hell was the rest of her dress?
Breaking out in a sweat, he tugged at his collar in an attempt to cool off. His tongue swelled two sizes too big for his mouth. He had no idea how to fix it. And his dick? He’d never experienced an instant hard-on…until now. Bella always stirred something in him. Made him hard, with a look or a smile. But this? It went beyond.
Felt like he had a damn anchor attached to his groin.
And yeah, he had a very good idea how to remedy the situation, but now was not the time.
“Hi, Matteo,” she said, in a voice as soft as the smooth skin she bared for all to see. At least, he imagined it felt soft. Silky soft. “You clean up nice.”
Nice? He didn’t feel nice. Heat, anger, arousal, all three coursed through his body, making him nuts. He wanted to cover her up, and strip her naked at the same time. Fierce need fluctuated between protecting her and burying himself balls-deep inside her gorgeous curves.
That was neither clean, nor nice. But he’d bet his last breath it would be life-altering.
How the hell was he supposed to carry out a mission when all he could think about was touching Bella?
As she swayed closer, flashing an exquisite mile-long leg, every throbbing inch of him was aware of every sweet inch of her. His fingers tightened around the rose in his grasp, as he fought the urge to run his hands up her arms to see if her skin really was as soft as it appeared.
“You take my breath, Bella.” The fact he’d spoken the words out loud proved it, because the lack of oxygen to the brain must be the reason behind his loose lips.
“I—uh—thank you,” she said, color rising into her cheeks.
He hadn’t seen her blush since she was in middle school. It looked amazing on her.
Remembering the flower in his hand, he gave her the single rose, no longer long-stemmed, since he’d gripped the sucker so hard it snapped in half. “For you. Or…at least, what’s left of it.”
She grinned, and when their fingers brushed her blush increased. “Thank you. But you didn’t have to.” Turning, she walked to the adjoining kitchen, filled a glass with water, and dropped the rose inside. “I mean, it’s not a real date or anything,” she added, before tossing the broken half in the trash.
He could relate. That wouldn’t do.
Moving toward Bella, Matteo ignored the fact Brooke was watching, and leaned against the counter. “Why not?”
Her back stiffened, and she turned to face him. “Why not…what?”
“Why can’t this be a real date?” Then a thought occurred, and it was his turn to stiffen. “Are you already seeing someone?”
“What?” she asked again, then frowned and shook her head. “No. Like you, I’m married to my job.”
A wry smile pulled his lips. “I just got separated, remember?” That should’ve hurt like hell, but at the moment, it barely caused a ripple.
Probably because he was in the middle of a mission.
“Doesn’t mean it’s okay to use me as a substitute.” She pushed past to walk back in the other room.
He reached out to grasp her arm, and waited until she met his gaze. “I’d never use you, Bella. Never have in the past, won’t do it now, or in the future.”
And…damn…he knew it. Her skin was soft. He loosened his hold to lightly brush his thumb up and down her arm before releasing her.
She rubbed her arm where he’d touched her. “You can’t predict the future, Matteo. No one can. Unless you’re Madame Salome, three shops down from yours.”
Although he wanted Bella to acknowledge that he’d never use her, he went along with her attempt to lighten the mood. “I hear she gives five percent off on Tuesdays.”
Some of the tightness eased from her shoulders. “I just want to go to the party and get the hard drives copied.”
“And we will,” he said, unable to let go of the idea now that it had formed. “But since it is a party, and we’re supposed to pretend to be on a date, why not treat it like one and have fun doing it?” He glanced at the silent Brooke. “Am I right?”
The woman held up her hands and shook her head. “Oh, no. Don’t draw me into this. I’m just here to pass out your earpieces, and to park three miles from Simpson’s so I can monitor security and walk you through any obstacles, while Knight holds down the fort, aka, apartment.”
“Right.” Bella nodded. “So, you see? There’s no room for fun, or fake dates, or real ones.”
“I didn’t say that, either.” Brooke shrugged, slight tug to her lips. “I just said to leave me out of it. What the two of you choose to do about your killer chemistry is your own business.”
She dug inside her go bag and stepped close to drop a miniscule silver disk into each of their hands, along with a bigger cylinder with a key ring attached.
“That’s it?” He blinked at the little bug. “Won’t it get stuck in the ear?”
Bella shook her head. “It feels weird at first, like it’s going to get stuck, but it never does. You put it in like this.” She dropped it in her ear and it disappeared.
He leaned close. “Is it stuck?”
She smiled. “No. It’s just small and nearly impossible for others to see. Which is the name of the game.”
“How do you get it out?” He didn’t relish going to the ER to have them fish a listening device from his ear.
“With this magnet.” Again, Bella demonstrated, sticking the bigger cylinder near her ear and the bug practically flew out, making a loud smacking noise as it stuck to the magnet. “You try.”
He dropped the bug in his ear, surprised at how light it felt. A few shakes of his head didn’t dislodge it. Impressed, he held the magnet close, and just as it had for Bella, the bug zipped out to stick to the magnet. “Is it just audio?”
Brooke spoke up, placing the go bag back on her shoulder. “No, it also picks up speech. Plus, it’s a transmitter, and tracking device.”
“Clever,” he said, dropping it back into his ear, then added the magnet to his key ring so it too, would go undetected, should he be searched. “Time to go.”
“Do you need to take an invitation or something?” Brooke asked as Bella put the device back in her ear, and magnet on a key ring she shoved in her small purse.
“Yes. I have it in here.” She tapped her purse on her way to the closet by the door where she removed a long coat.
Matteo took it from her and held it open. “Allow me.”
For a split second, her gaze flashed, and he thought she was going to give him shit, but instead, she thanked him and turned around to slip her arms in the sleeves. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he smoothed the coat over her shoulders and inhaled that unique, sweet and spicy perfume of hers.
A calm settled over Matteo. At ease, he opened the door, and waited for the women to leave before following them outside. It was a beautiful night, with little wind, which was rare so close to the water. Falling into step alongside Bella, he automatically cupped her elbow, in case she tripped in those sexy damn heels that made his dick twitch.
Brooke headed for her car in Bella’s driveway. “I’ll turn on the surveillance equipment to make sure your earpieces are working.”
He nodded, but kept his hand on Bella’s elbow on their way to his driveway next door. If he had known she was going to wear stilts on her feet, he would’ve parked in her driveway, even though there was only fifty feet of side yard between the houses.
With each step she took, he cringed inwardly, expecting her to break her ankle, especially on the sand and grass that separated their driveways.
But she moved with a confident grace that turned out to be sexier than those damn shoes.
Grinch Reaper Page 8