Mistaken Identity

by Merline Lovelace

“Times have changed. Some of the worst criminals today own legitimate businesses, are members of the Chamber of Commerce and sit on the school board. Our boy Mullvane runs a nationwide chain of appliance stores.”

  Marsh was right. Times had changed. Somehow Lauren had trouble envisioning a cold-blooded killer worried about retail sales of refrigerators and stoves. Curling her legs under her, she leaned an elbow on the sofa-back and threaded a hand through her hair.

  “Dave told Becky and me last night that it could be months before this guy comes to trial.”

  “Or longer. When we finish here, which we expect to do by tomorrow afternoon, we’ll bust his home and his corporate headquarters in Phoenix. What we find there could keep us busy for years.”

  Lauren remembered his brother’s scathing remarks about Marsh overstepping his authority and coming too damned close to crossing the line.

  “I thought the DEA wasn’t officially involved in this investigation.”

  A wolfish grin slashed across his face. “It is now. My boss practically salivated when I passed on the information Dave gave us about Mullvane’s connections to the South American drug cartels.”

  It was obvious that Marsh’s single-minded determination to bring his sister-in-law’s killer down wouldn’t terminate with the man’s apprehension. He’d follow this case through to the end, no matter how long it took.

  Lauren felt a stab of empathy for Becky, who’d been quiet and subdued all day. Like Dave, Marsh could remain tied up in this tangle for years. So could this uncertain, ephemeral…something…that shimmered between Marsh and Lauren. The realization left a hollow feeling in her chest.

  “If you’re wrapping things up here tomorrow afternoon, I’ll head back to Denver. Becky, too. She’s going to stay with me for a while.”

  “She told me.” He hesitated. “It looks to me as though she’s got it as bad for Jannisek as he does for her.”

  “I’m beginning to think so, too.”

  An indefinite wait for a man who hadn’t yet proven himself worth waiting for wasn’t what Lauren would wish for her sister, but then it wasn’t her choice to make. She stopped thinking about Becky when Marsh reached out to slide a hand through her hair. Warm fingers encircled her nape. His thumb stroked a line along her jaw.

  “I don’t know how long it’ll take us to mount this raid on Mullvane’s operations, but after that…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m thinking it’s been a while since I’ve been to Denver.”

  Lauren’s heart seemed to stop in her chest. She barely got it going again when he added a kicker.

  “I’m also thinking that we said we were going to talk about room arrangements when we got to Palm Springs.”

  He gave her a look that managed to be both hopeful and aggrieved.

  “You might want to know that I spent most of last night with Jannisek, and what was left of it thinking about you. I told you you’d interfere.”

  His thumb made a slow circle on her cheek.

  “I’m damned if I know how you got under my skin in such a short time, but you have.”

  As declarations went, it was a little short on romance but long on impact. The wall Lauren had felt growing between them for the past two days crumbled.

  “Any chance we could rekindle the fire we started at the cabin? Maybe it could keep us both warm until I get to Denver.”

  She wasn’t about to tell him that his touch had already set a spark to the flames.

  “Maybe,” she murmured.

  He took that as an assent and leaned forward another inch. Their mouths met, fitting together as naturally as two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. His touch was warm, his taste all Marsh. Lauren could swear she caught a hint of vanilla on his lips. She smiled, thinking she’d always associate him with ice cream and tree bark. Then he drew her into his lap, and she swept right past thinking into need.

  He cradled her in one arm, palmed her hip with the other. She slid her hands up the muscled planes of his chest to wrap around his neck. Their mouths met, hers as hungry as his. With a rush of greed, she surged up against him.

  “Ouch!”

  He jerked away as if stung.

  “What?” She crashed back to reality a gasp. “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do it.” Grimacing, he reached into his shirt pocket. “This thing did. I guess I didn’t close the darned clasp.”

  He opened his fist. The prancing, diamond-studded unicorn lay in his palm.

  “I forgot. I meant to give this to you when I first knocked on your door, but…something distracted me.”

  She knew darn well what had distracted him. Her pushed-up curves. They seemed to be doing it again. His gaze roamed from the jeweled piece to an appropriate spot to pin it and got stuck somewhere in the middle.

  “I don’t want the pin,” she protested. “I told Dave and Becky it had to go back.”

  “Yeah, well, Becky wanted you to have it and I figured Jannisek needed a jump start on his climb out of debt. I told him I’d buy this from him.”

  If Lauren hadn’t already suspected that she’d fallen for this rough-edged special agent, his extraordinary generosity to a man who didn’t deserve it would have erased her lingering doubts. Her heart contracted, swift and tight, and then expanded with a rush of emotion she didn’t quite have the nerve to call love.

  “Marsh, I can’t accept this. It cost more than two thousand dollars.”

  “You’re worth it.”

  The smile in his blue eyes made her stomach hollow. It hollowed even more when he jiggled her to a sitting position and tucked his fingers inside the V neck of her sweater. Brows knit in concentration, he wove the pin through the soft cotton and fumbled with the clasp.

  It proved too small or too stubborn for his big fingers. His frown deepened. Accidentally or otherwise, his knuckles brushed against her Wonder-curves. A slight sweat sheened his forehead by the time he got the pin attached to the sweater.

  “Are you okay?” she asked solicitously.

  “No! What the heck have you got on under there?”

  “Since you didn’t want me to hit the shops, Becky insisted I borrow some of her things.”

  Marsh gave a sound halfway between a growl and a groan. “I seem to remember swearing to keep my hands off you until this was over and we could sort things out between us calmly and sensibly.”

  “I seem to recall making the same promise.”

  “I’m not feeling particularly calm or sensible at this moment.”

  Sighing, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. She’d always been the practical sister. The one who set schedules, kept her nose to the grindstone, checked off each goal as she achieved it. The one time she’d followed her heart she’d been burned. Badly.

  But this time…

  This time the risks were far greater. So were the rewards. As furious as Marsh could make her, he could also take her to dizzying, sensual heights she’d never dreamed of.

  Her body had already tightened in anticipation of reaching those same heights again. Need held her in a hard grip. The need to hold him. To feel him inside her. To love him.

  “Funny,” she whispered, “I’m not feeling particularly calm or sensible right now, either.”

  “Good!” He erupted from the sofa with Lauren hefted high in his arms. “I told myself that I could walk out of here without seeing what you’ve got on under that sweater. I lied.”

  Seeing her in her borrowed undies might have been his original intent when he swept her into the bedroom. Getting her out of them soon constituted a much higher priority.

  With his mouth holding hers, his hands went to work stripping her down to the flesh-colored lace.

  “Nice.”

  He dropped a kiss on the swell of her breast, another deep in her impressive cleavage. With the prickly beginnings of his beard rasping against her skin, Lauren resolved to empty her drawers of all nonwired, un-Wonderbras the moment she got home.

  “Very nice.”r />
  He shaped her with his hands, explored her with his tongue, worshiped her. In a slow spiral of delight, she did the same. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and then slid through the crisp hair of his chest. His muscles jumped under her touch. Hers clenched with need.

  Within moments they were both slick and hot and driven by an urgency that made even her bra and skimpy briefs superfluous. Gasping with pleasure, she shimmied out of what remained of her clothes and helped him do the same. He took time only to sheathe himself before he rolled onto his back and lifted her astride his hips.

  Lauren’s throat went dry. The artist in her ached with the perfection of his sleek lines, smooth skin and corded muscle. The woman in her cried for the pain he must have suffered from that bullet to the chest.

  Artist and woman came together in a rush of pleasure when she raised her hips and took him into her. They moved slowly at first, each contorting to explore the other without breaking the deliberate, erotic rhythm. Bending, clenching, gasping, Lauren ran her tongue along his jaw and gave her hands free rein. Marsh did the same before he splayed his palms around her waist and surged upward.

  With that thrust, slow exploded into fast. With the next, fast spun out of control. A panting eternity later, Lauren arched her back. A cry ripped from her throat as her climax started tight and burst loose.

  Marsh waited until her shuddering spasms died, then buried his hands in her hair, dragged her down for a savage kiss, and thrust into her again.

  He rolled out of bed just after dawn and hit the shower. Wearing only a towel and a grin, he strolled out of the bathroom some time later and dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder.

  “I’ll come back as soon as we wind things up with Jannisek.”

  “Mmm,” she muttered into the pillow.

  “This afternoon,” he breathed against her bare skin. “Save this afternoon for me.”

  Lauren pried open one eye to watch him pull on his clothes. Even in her state of mindless, boneless lethargy, the swirl of dark hair around his belly button caused a stir deep in her tummy.

  “I’ll save this afternoon,” she murmured, “but I have to go home tonight. I can’t leave things in limbo with my assistant any longer, or I won’t have a business.”

  Fully clothed, he dropped onto the bed beside her. A big, gentle hand brushed her hair from her eyes.

  “I’ll make time for us, Lauren. The next weeks and months are going to get crazy, but I’ll make that trip to Denver as soon as I can.”

  She sank back into sleep with his promise curled around her heart.

  The phone woke her again some hours later. Wincing at its shrill ring, she kept her face buried in the pillow and groped blindly beside the bed.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you awake, Laur?”

  “I am now.”

  She squinted at her watch, but couldn’t make out the digits with eyes still blurred from sleep.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost ten.”

  Ten! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept past seven or seven-thirty. Of course, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d burned up every molecule of energy in such wild abandon, either.

  “They’re through with me,” Becky said. “Do you want to go down to the pool and soak up some rays?”

  Pushing upright, Lauren shoved her hair out of her eyes. “Did Marsh say it was safe for you to show yourself in public?”

  “He said it was okay as long as one of the men goes down to the pool with us. I thought maybe we could talk.”

  “Tell you what. I’m a long way from being presentable. Why don’t you go on down? I’ll join you in a half hour or so and we’ll talk away.”

  “Sounds good to me. See you there.”

  Lauren hung up and rolled out of bed. She had a good idea what Becky wanted to talk about. The forced cheerfulness in her sister’s voice didn’t fool Lauren. For the first time in her life, her sister had fallen in love. Now, the man she wanted was preparing to put her out of his life for months, maybe years.

  A guilty joy that Marsh didn’t intend to do the same snaked through Lauren. His promise to come up to Denver as soon as he could bubbled through her as she twisted the shower taps and waited for the water to heat.

  She didn’t even try to deny anymore that she loved him. All her arguments against such an improbable, impossible happening had gone up in flames last night. And again this morning, when he’d dropped both a kiss and that promise on her. Hugging the memory of both to her, she stepped into the glass enclosure.

  Thirty minutes later, she finished blow-drying her hair. It took another ten to put on her makeup, but only one to decide what to wear. She hadn’t packed a bathing suit for her hurried trip to Phoenix. Her faithful jeans and the borrowed pink sweater would have to do.

  Smiling, she fingered the sparkling unicorn still pinned to the cloud-soft cotton. Strange how the little creature had figured so prominently in the unfolding drama that included Becky, Dave, her and Marsh.

  Not ten minutes later, it played another, even more dramatic role.

  With the desert heat dry against her bare arms, Lauren walked through the series of shaded courtyards that led to the pool. She could hear the splashing of the dolphin fountain around the next turn when a waiter in a white jacket with the resort’s logo on the breast pocket hailed her.

  “Ms. Smith?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have a message for you.”

  Wondering if Becky had changed her mind about their meeting spot, Lauren turned with smile. “Yes?”

  A second man stepped out of the shadows. Short and pudgy, he wore a dark suit and an air of ruthless determination.

  Lauren’s smile wavered, and then disintegrated completely as the waiter reached into his jacket and withdrew a gun topped with a long, deadly silencer. Before she could so much as gasp, let alone turn and flee, he grabbed her. With one hand wrapped viciously around her arm, he jammed the barrel into her side.

  “You make one sound, one single sound, and you’re dead.”

  With her throat closed and her heart slamming against her ribs, she couldn’t have squeaked out a word if she wanted to.

  “You sure we got the right broad?” the second man growled. “I seen another one with her color hair by the pool.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Look at the piece of ice she’s wearing. I saw the receipts for that pin when we trashed Jannisek’s place.”

  Again! It was happening again! These creeps had mistaken her for Becky.

  “Wait! You… Oh!”

  The gun barrel jabbed hard into Lauren’s side, cutting off her instinctive protest. She stumbled, breathless with pain. The hand on her arm wrenched her upright.

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” her abductor snarled. “We need you breathing for a while, but that don’t mean we need you walking.”

  Her jaw clamped shut. She wasn’t going to send these creeps after her sister. Heart thundering, she was half dragged, half shoved toward a car idling at the back of the building. The sedan’s motor hummed softly. Its dark tinted windows revealed nothing of its interior.

  Lauren’s abductor jerked her to a halt.

  His accomplice performed a swift reconnaissance of the open parking lot, and then dashed to the car and yanked open the back door.

  Seconds later, Lauren was shoved into the backseat.

  Chapter 14

  Lauren fell into the seat, numb with disbelief. For the second time in less than two weeks, she’d been mistaken for her sister. But this time, her terror-filled mind screamed as the car peeled away from the curb, the consequences might just prove fatal.

  She scrambled upright and eyed the door handle only inches away. If she could knock aside the gun aimed at her middle with her right hand and yank the door open with her left, she could tumble into the street and…

  “Don’t try it, babe.”

  The man beside her smiled a warning.

  “Me or my friend her
e would put a bullet through your kneecap before you ran two steps.”

  He said it with such casual menace that ice formed in Lauren’s veins.

  “But just to make sure…” In a swift move, he caught her wrist in a brutal grip and twisted it behind her. “Joey, toss me that tape.”

  Bent almost double, Lauren fought futilely as he laid his gun on the seat and snagged her other arm. She heard a tearing sound, and then felt the slap of tape as he wrapped it around and around her wrists. Panting, she lurched back in her seat.

  “You can’t do this!”

  The man in the front seat snickered. “Looks to me like we just did.”

  “Shut up and drive, Joey.”

  Shaking her hair out of her eyes, Lauren bit back the terror that rose like a living thing in her throat. She had to rein in her thundering fear. Had to focus. Breathing hard and fast, she tried to identify landmarks she could relate to Marsh when she got the chance. She would get the chance. When they arrived wherever they were going, she’d find some way to contact him or send a message.

  He was a hunter. He’d track these thugs down and come after her. She had to believe that, had to keep shouting it over and over in her mind to keep from choking on the panic pounding through her chest.

  With every turn, she searched for street signs. She recognized Sinatra Avenue and caught a glimpse of the boutiques and restaurants lining the main street she’d wanted to stroll down yesterday. All too soon, the familiar landmarks blurred. After a confusing number of turns, they wheeled into a neighborhood of towering palms, profusely flowering shrubs and high walls.

  The streets grew wider, the residences separated into estates. Finally, the driver slowed at a gated driveway. A For Sale sign beside the entrance offered the property for viewing to a discriminating clientele.

  Evidently her abductors had arranged a private viewing. With a click of a remote switch, the gates slid open. Crushed shell crunched under the tires as the car swept up a curving drive to a sprawling stucco mansion. Its red tile roof had aged to a deep ocher. The ornate curlicues above the windows and massive front doors dated it somewhere in the thirties or forties. Lauren couldn’t imagine who owned it, but they had to be one of Palm Springs’ wealthiest celebrities or billionaires.