hand, he made her stop unpacking clothes and focus on his face. “You’re a very unique woman, Special Agent Aldrich. There aren’t many as strong, competent and intelligent at their jobs as you are. But…you’re so much more. You can also be soft and gentle when needed. You light up any room just by your presence. And…you are one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met.”
As he ran a finger across her cheek, her eyes opened to the size of two full moons. Marc tried to find the words to make her see herself as he saw her. “Your big brown eyes hold every mystery ever kept by womankind. Your skin is pure pleasure to touch. And your hair…”
He grabbed a handful of her deep ebony ringlets and totally lost his train of thought. Leaning toward her, he hovered between agony and ecstasy. All he could see was her pale soft lips, just inches from his own. But he wasn’t sure she wanted the same thing.
Close enough to smell a slight scent of musk, he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers. She whimpered with an erotic sound that fired his blood. She was all woman now.
Marc deepened the kiss, needing to consume her before the ground gave way under his feet. “I want you,” he whispered into her mouth.
Suddenly, he felt an angry shove against his mid-section. Slightly dazed, he lifted his head and gazed down into her face.
“Nice try, counselor.” She grinned as she stepped away from him. “That’s quite a line you’ve got going there. But I told you last night that sharing kisses is a mistake. I’m here to protect you and find evidence against the cartel. If we can locate Escalante, all the better. I’m not here to jump into your bed.”
She walked over to the bedroom door and held it open, indicating she was ready for him to leave. “It’s late. We’ll be going to your office in the morning, just as you usually would. You’d better get some rest.”
Reluctantly, he shuffled out the door. But before she could close it against him, he turned back.
“The heat is there between us, sugar,” he told her. “You can’t make it go away just because you don’t want it. Sooner or later that heat will bubble over. Neither of us can stop it.”
She laughed and raised her eyebrows. “I have a lot more control than that…sugar. Now go to bed. I’ll keep an eye on things tonight. You get a good night’s sleep.”
He pressed his lips together and stepped back enough so that she could close the door in his face. Lord, this was going to be a tough night.
Muttering under his breath, Marc went down the hall and prepared himself for bed—alone. But he was absolutely positive he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.
He was a brilliant corporate attorney. That’s what everyone told Dana the next morning at the Danforth offices. Everyone said so, including Marc’s secretary and all three of his junior assistants, two of whom were women.
But none of the women in the place had so much as hinted that Marc ever made a move on them. And Dana definitely tried to leave the way open for them to share the gossip. She wasn’t sure how knowing about his private life would help her with the job, but she still wanted to know.
At the office she felt totally out of her comfort zone, dressed in the black Donna Karan suit and designer high heels that Imogene had made her promise to wear. However, she didn’t seem to be out of place there. A few of the women complimented her on the suit, but they were all dressed very much the same way.
By mid-afternoon, her feet were killing her and she was beginning to believe that Marc Danforth was a saint. She sat down in the conference room he’d taken over for their use. Kicking off her shoes under the table and rubbing her nylon-clad feet together, Dana figured the man had better be everything he’d claimed to be. Otherwise, she would be forced to kill him when this was all over—if for no other reason than she’d actually had to put on these crazy high heels for him.
She couldn’t wait for the work day to be done so she could get back into her jeans and running shoes. But in the meantime, she worked on setting up the computer Marc’s secretary had provided. Dana entered her password into the Bureau’s covert Web site and was immediately allowed into the FBI files they’d begun compiling on the cartel.
“Hi. How’s it going?” Marc sauntered in a little while later, followed by a very sophisticated dark-skinned woman dressed in a soft aqua pants suit. “Dana, I want you to meet Jasmine Carmody Brooks. She’s brought us her files on the cartel.”
Dana took Jasmine’s outstretched hand and the two of them immediately understood each other. By her firm no-nonsense handshake and the clearly determined look in her big brown eyes, Dana knew Jasmine was just as much of a competitive go-getter as she was.
Jasmine seemed to be sizing her up, as well. “There’ll be a small article in tomorrow’s paper, announcing Marc’s engagement to the daughter of one of Abraham’s old navy buddies from Louisiana—a Miss Dana Dele-croix. I spoke to your superior, Steve Simon, and he said he’d fix it so that you had a background there in case anyone checked.
“Abraham mentioned the happy news this morning at his press conference when someone questioned him on Marc’s arrest,” Jasmine continued with a smile. “It proved to be quite a diversion.”
Marc pulled out a chair at the conference table for her. They all sat down while Jasmine unearthed a stack of files from a leather briefcase and placed them on the table.
“Dana, Jasmine tells me that a couple of tabloid reporters are sneaking around downstairs, trying to get a line on where we are and when they can try for a picture,” Marc said with a grin. “Are you going to be ready for your first run-in with the paparazzi when we leave here later?”
Dana felt herself grimace and tried to change it into a casual smile. “You sure we can’t just give them the slip? I guarantee you I’m better at hiding than they are at finding people.”
Marc chuckled, but shook his head. “Sorry. But they’ll be bored soon enough, once we let them have what they want. Tomorrow someone else will be their target.”
“Okay, fine,” she muttered. Turning to Jasmine, she watched her place the manila folders on the table.
“I started collecting information on the coffee suppliers and the cartel back in April, right after the Danforth warehouse office explosion,” Jasmine said as she flipped through the files. “Ian has seen all this information. But I told him I wouldn’t break the story while Marc was still involved.”
“Good thing,” Dana told her. “I suspect that Marc is only alive now because he’s the pawn the cartel is using to get to Ian. You break the story on the cartel and Marc’s usefulness is over.”
Once the words were out of her mouth, Dana had a queasy feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She snuck a peek at Marc’s guarded expression.
Marc. Bright, energetic and a spectacular kisser, Marc Danforth. She couldn’t imagine him being killed, or that anyone could take his fantastic life away from him.
Dana swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes on the folder in Jasmine’s hand.
“These are pictures that I’ve been taking of people coming and going from the coffee suppliers’ offices over on Montgomery Street,” Jasmine told them. “I can identify some of the men, but there are a few that I can’t place.”
Dana
