The Elliotts: Bedroom Secrets: Under Deepest Cover

She quivered with anticipation, and he had to admit it would have been easy just to drop his own pants and bury himself in her. He tested her readiness with one finger and felt that she was slick.

She gasped at his featherlight touch.

“Please,” she said. “Do it now.”

Not before he’d tasted her. With his own stomach knotted in anticipation, he leaned down and, using his fingers to open her, lightly grazed her with a flick of his tongue.

She wiggled and moaned again. “Oh, no, please, no more …”

“Maybe you’ll think twice before you do that trick with the chocolate sauce again,” he said with a low growl before tasting her once more. He held her hips firmly so she couldn’t wiggle right out of his reach, and he tasted her yet again, drinking more deeply this time, letting his tongue explore.

Lucy reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Bryan!”

He did not take pity on her. He waited until he sensed she was verging on the peak of pleasure. Then he raised up, shed his own garments, slid her hips to the edge of the counter and plunged himself into her warmth.

“Oh!” Lucy cried out. “I can’t—Oh, my—”

Bryan thrust again, more deeply this time, and again until he was buried to the hilt. She was tight and warm and slick and he was going to lose control of himself. It was too much.

He felt Lucy’s spasms of ecstasy just before she cried out one last time. Three more hard thrusts, and it was over for him, too, but he’d known he wouldn’t last long inside Lucy. Not with the buildup he’d had over the past hours—hell, the past days.

Lucy sat up suddenly and, still joined to him, threw her arms around him and kissed him. She clung sweetly to him and rubbed her face against his hair.

“Please don’t leave me, don’t ever leave me,” she said. “I want to be together like this forever.”

He thought about telling her how awkward it would be for the chefs to work around them when they came to work tomorrow, but he held his tongue. This wasn’t a moment for humor.

Lucy might seem strong, but in many ways she was fragile, and he had to remember that. She might have been a bit brazen tonight, but he knew she didn’t take this sort of thing casually.

He tried not to take her plea about never leaving too seriously. People said all kinds of strange things during a sexual climax. Refined ladies cursed like sailors, and sailors wept like children.

He hoped she didn’t mean anything by it. Because he would leave her eventually. No matter how much he didn’t want to.

He gently separated himself from her, wrapped his arms around her and slid her off the counter and onto legs that wobbled slightly before she found her balance.

“You okay?” He smoothed her hair out of her face.

“I think I’ll live.”

“Ready to put your clothes on and go upstairs?”

“You aren’t seriously asking me to go upstairs without eating some of that cake, are you?”

Funny, he’d forgotten all about the cake. “Let’s take it with us. We can eat it in bed.”

She grinned, pushed him farther away from her and retrieved her discarded clothes. “Last one dressed has to spread whipped cream all over the other one and lick it off.”

That was one contest Bryan wouldn’t mind losing—though winning sounded pretty good, too.

Lucy had sobered by the time they got upstairs, fully dressed and carrying two plates of cake plus the rest of the dessert, which Bryan had sealed into a Tupperware cake plate.

Her face grew warm as she recalled how wanton she’d been—and then how she’d clung to Bryan, pleading with him not to leave.

She hadn’t meant to do that last part. She’d still been in the throes of the most intense orgasm of her life, and the words had just poured out of her right past her brain.

She knew she still had some issues about Cruz Tabor. The In Tight drummer had ended the relationship without warning, in the cruelest of fashions, and now she had a sort of phobia about being abandoned.

But such pleas would be useless where Bryan was concerned. Their relationship could not be anything but temporary. He’d given her fair warning—unlike that bastard Cruz, who’d led her to believe he was crazy in love with her and that he would marry her someday.

She would just make things worse if she clung to Bryan. She had to adopt the mindset that every day they had together was a gift, and that when they inevitably parted ways, she would have some incredible memories and, hopefully, no hard feelings.

Hell, she wasn’t even sure Bryan wanted to have a relationship, temporary or otherwise. She’d pushed him into sex, and men were pretty helpless to say no when sex was offered.

She chanced a glance at him as the elevator reached his loft. He was staring at her.

“What?” she said with a nervous giggle.

“You’re just so absolutely gorgeous I can’t stop looking at you.”

“Oh, yeah, right. In these really sexy clothes, no makeup, glasses, my hair’s a wreck—”

“Stop that. You are beautiful, with or without designer clothes and cosmetics. I don’t know who told you you weren’t, but he was an idiot.”

The door opened, and he ushered her ahead of him.

“It wasn’t a he. It was my mother. She thought I was going straight to hell when I died anyway, for being willful and lazy and disrespectful. But she said that at least she didn’t have to worry about me doing bad things with boys, because God hadn’t gifted me in a way that would make any boy take notice.”

Lucy had always made light of her mother’s criticism, but saying the words aloud after all these years still produced a tightness in her chest.

“That’s criminal,” Bryan said, his jaw pulsating. “No wonder you don’t miss your parents so much.”

“Oh, she meant well. She was always so afraid for me—afraid for my soul. She just knew I was headed down the path straight to hell. The sad thing was, I proved her right.”

“You?”

“I lived up to her worst fears.” And that was all Lucy would say on that subject. “Can we really eat cake in bed?”

“Your mother wouldn’t approve.”

“My mother would be on her knees for a week, praying for my salvation, if she knew I’d colored my hair. Eating cake in bed with a man would be beyond her comprehension.”

“Then I guess we won’t worry about what Mom would think.”

Lucy took a deep breath and realized, for the first time in a long time, that she didn’t feel guilty for enjoying herself, for having fun. Maybe she was making progress.

She nodded toward the stairs. The last of Bryan’s anger left his face. He grinned, left the cake in the kitchen, took one of Lucy’s plates and her hand and led her upstairs.

“Here’s the thing about eating cake in bed, though,” he said with mock gravity. “There are rules.”

“Such as?”

“You have to do it naked.”

“I can do that.” She smiled wickedly, set the plates down on the king-size bed and took off her clothes. In less than a minute they were both naked and in bed, feeding each other the decadent dessert without benefit of forks, which they’d forgotten.

“This cake is fabulous. You just made this up tonight?”

Bryan made a production of licking whipped cream off her fingers. “You inspired me. I needed something so decadent it would distract me from you. I’m going to put it on the menu, and I’m going to call it Lucy’s Cake.”

“Don’t you mean Lindsay’s Cake? Everyone would wonder who the heck Lucy was.”

“Once we catch our embezzler—and find Stungun—you can go back to using your real name.”

“Right.” Lucy didn’t add that once that happened, there would be no more need for his girlfriend ruse. No more need for her to remain in New York.

Bryan set the two empty plates on the nightstand and slid more deeply under the covers, pulling her with him. “We need to work off a few calories, you know,” he said.

“I’m all sticky. Maybe I should take a shower.”

“I like you all sticky.” To prove his point, he kissed all around her mouth and started doing crazy things with his hands, rubbing her belly and thighs, petting her as if she were a cat.

Lucy wondered if he’d noticed that her belly wasn’t quite as flat and firm as it ought to be. Also, anyone who looked closely would see her faint stretch marks.

She reached over and turned off the lamp. Maybe someday she would tell Bryan the truth about her past. But not tonight.

Bryan woke before dawn, and it took him a few seconds to reason why there was a warm female body snuggled up to him. When he remembered, he smiled. He and Lucy had gone completely crazy last night. He’d never have guessed that a mild-mannered little bank employee in a shapeless suit would be such a wildcat in bed. She wasn’t just responsive, she was imaginative. He’d believed himself to be fairly experienced and uninhibited, but she’d shown him a few things that had driven him completely wild.

He should have felt guilty for taking Lucy into his bed. She was a witness, a civilian cooperating to bring down a terrorist sympathizer. She’d done everything he’d asked of her, and he’d promised his protection.

But he couldn’t muster much guilt. He didn’t feel as if he’d taken advantage of her. Though he’d been the one to initiate their first kiss two days before, she’d been the aggressor last night. He’d gone out of his way not to seduce her. She’d come to him with her eyes wide open, knowing he was not cut out for a committed relationship.

As for compromising her ability to be a good witness, he didn’t see it. As far as anyone would know, she was posing as his girlfriend so he could protect her. No one ever needed to know that the fiction had become reality. He could keep a secret—and apparently Lucy could, too. There were definitely parts of her past she hadn’t revealed.

She was entitled to her privacy. Whatever her secrets, he didn’t imagine they had any bearing on the case. But he wanted her to trust him.

“You awake?” she whispered.

“Mmm-hmm.”

She snuggled closer. “Why? It’s not even light out.”

“Just thinking. Lucy, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but I’m just curious. I dug around in your past pretty thoroughly, and I didn’t find any boyfriends in the past couple of years.”

“No, I didn’t date anyone after I moved to Virginia.”

“Why do you have the implant, then?”

“I’m optimistic?”

“You weren’t acting like a woman on the hunt for a lover.”

“But I found one. By accident. And isn’t it a good thing I’m protected?”

“Yes, of course.” He wasn’t quite sure why he was so bothered by this scenario. He supposed it was because he was trained to notice inconsistencies. And women with no immediate prospects for sex didn’t usually worry about birth control.

“All right, I’ll explain it to you,” she said. “It’s not a pretty episode in my past, and you’ll probably be repulsed, but I want to be honest. Your background check missed a few relevant facts about me.”

“Those two missing years?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t just working for In Tight. I was sort of a … well, a groupie.”

“You?”

“I started out just wanting to do my job. I was content to be a very small part of In Tight. I was starstruck, and being close to a rock band was like heaven, especially after my conservative upbringing. Most of the guys knew my name, and they actually talked to me occasionally—usually when they wanted to get paid—and that was fine with me. Then came Cruz Tabor.”

“He’s in the group, isn’t he?”

“The drummer. He started coming on to me—bigtime. I was just this nerdy accountant from Kansas, and he made me feel special. We started … well, I guess you wouldn’t call it dating. We started sleeping together.”

That bastard! Then Bryan tempered his first thought. After all, wasn’t he guilty of the same thing? That Tabor guy had fallen victim to Lucy’s winsome charms, and who could blame him?

“He treated me pretty well at first,” Lucy continued. “We were a couple. I even got my picture in a tabloid once, though I wasn’t identified. When the band went on tour, he let me ride with him in first class—they didn’t have their own private jet back then.”

Bryan wondered how he could have missed all this when he’d dug into Lucy’s past. But it sounded as if her activities with In Tight wouldn’t have left a paper trail, and he hadn’t gone so far as to interview her family or friends. The check had been more routine than that. He’d mostly been concerned with whether she had a criminal record or mental illness.

He lightly rubbed her arm, urging her to continue.

“Things were pretty good, until I got pregnant.”

Bryan grew very still. Lucy had been pregnant?

“Cruz had said he loved me, that he wanted to marry me as soon as the band got better established. I thought he’d be happy about the baby. Instead he was horrified. No, that’s not the right word. Disgusted. He blamed me for not being more careful, and he told me to … to g-get rid of it.” Her voice cracked, and Bryan pulled her more closely against him.

He felt a rage against the insensitive bastard. “If I ever meet this man, I’ll yank out his esophagus,” Bryan said. “You didn’t …” But maybe she had. Clearly she had no child now.

“No, I didn’t terminate the pregnancy. I told Cruz I thought he was horrid and that I was having the baby. He said he would deny it was his and claim I was a slut and I slept around with everyone.”

Bryan’s anger escalated toward boiling. “DNA could have proved—”

“I didn’t want that man acknowledged as my child’s father. Not after the way he acted. He knew I could prove he was the father, and he offered me money to just go away. But I didn’t take it. I just left.”

“So, what happened?” Bryan asked, though he was afraid he knew.

“I went home to the farm. My parents were scandalized, of course. They dragged me to church a lot and prayed for me. But I was their daughter, and eventually they forgave me. Then I lost the baby.”

“Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry.”

“The strange thing was, I really wanted her. Everyone said losing her was a blessing, but I didn’t agree, and I felt so guilty, like I was being punished. I should have listened to my parents. I shouldn’t have been so wild. Taking risks for myself was one thing, but my foolhardy behavior had created a human being. It sobered me. To make amends, I swore I would never, ever take any kind of risk, ever again. I would work at the job my uncle found for me, I wouldn’t call attention to myself, I would be humble.”

“And the implant?”

“I’m weak,” she said. “I wouldn’t go looking for trouble, but what if trouble found me? I wanted to be ready, just in case. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, take a chance on another unplanned pregnancy. And was I right? Yes. Trouble found me. And I have no ability to resist temptation, as I’ve so amply illustrated tonight.”

“You’re not weak,” he said. “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. You made a mistake—you fell in love with the wrong man, that’s all. It happens every day.”

“But who’s to say it won’t happen again? To me?” He understood exactly what she was saying. He was the wrong man for her. Another bad choice. “I would never turn my back on my own child,” he said.

“I know. You’re not anything like Cruz. He was a self-absorbed, spoiled child. You’re responsible and mature.”

“You can say that with a straight face after everything we did last night?” He almost blushed thinking about what they’d done in the restaurant kitchen.

“Yes, I can. I know you would put my life before yours in a heartbeat. But I also know that you would not choose to have a baby. Fortunately, that’s not something you have to worry about.”

He shifted his weight on top of her and kissed her, filled with a rush of affection for her. She’d made some difficult decisions. She’d taken responsibility for her actions.

He wished he could be the right man for her. She deserved someone who would love her unconditionally. Someone who would be there for her, always, not running off on dangerous missions, staying gone for weeks at a time. Someone who would welcome her babies.

Yes, she was right about him. He would not choose to bring a child into the world—for all the same reasons he chose not to marry or let his professional and personal lives become enmeshed. He refused to put his loved ones in danger or make them worry about him.

“I guess I didn’t repulse you?” she asked.

“Nothing you could do would repulse me.” On the contrary, everything she said and did turned him on more. She was like an addictive drug.

“Good. Because I was rather enjoying all this.” She reached down, running her hand along his ribs, then across his chest. Her fingers paused to explore the raised scar that ran along his sternum.

“You’ll find lots more of those on me if you look,” he said. “I’ve got a dandy one on my leg, another across my back. I’m not very pretty.”

She huffed at that, then skittered across his belly with her hand, arriving at his growing arousal. “This is all the pretty I need.” She took it possessively into her hand.

He groaned.

“I know it’s temporary,” she said.

“It’ll last long enough.”

She giggled. “No. I meant you and me. I know we can’t be together long-term. But I’m okay with that. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“I don’t feel bad. I feel very, very good, and I’m going to feel better in a moment or two.” He moved on top of her. He did not want to talk about, or even think about, the day they would say goodbye.

Lucy stood under the spray in Bryan’s enormous shower, feeling cleansed both inside and out. She was glad she’d unburdened herself last night. Maybe her confession was a bit more elaborate than Bryan had been prepared for, but she’d needed to say it. She hadn’t talked about Cruz or her pregnancy to anyone since her miscarriage. Her parents had wanted her to bury the past, forget it had ever happened. But as awful as it was, Cruz and the pregnancy were a part of her now. She felt she had a new perspective on it. Yes, she’d been naive, and she’d made a mistake. But she wasn’t evil.

Thanks to Bryan, she wasn’t stuck anymore. She could move on, live normally, leave the sackcloth and ashes behind.

Bryan tapped on the bathroom door. “You’re going to use up all the hot water.”

He was back from cleaning up the restaurant. “Then join me.” She’d been fantasizing about herself and Bryan in this decadent shower, with its acres of red glass tile and twin shower sprays, since she’d first seen it the day Scarlet came over for her makeover.

“Hey. You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly make love again, for she ached in places she hadn’t known existed, they did.

Eight

Lucy had mixed feelings about her computer work now. Yes, she wanted to solve the puzzle of who the embezzler was at Alliance Trust. But the sooner that person was arrested and all parties brought to justice, the sooner she and Bryan would part.

Duty won out, and she worked hard on her latest project, which was matching up log-in times with the times the illicit funds transfers had occurred.

By lunch, she’d eliminated several more candidates. She was closing in. Only five suspects. One of them was Omar Kalif, a loan officer of Iranian descent. She’d always liked Omar. He was funny and hardworking, and he would turn himself inside out to find a way to get a client qualified for a loan. He had a darling wife, two kids.

Well, she would let Bryan worry about that. Her job was to solve the puzzle.

Bryan had told her he would be tied up today and probably wouldn’t be home until late. He’d been vague about what he would be doing. She didn’t know if he was in the city or had jetted off some place, risking life and limb.

She tried not to think about it. She tried not to worry, to keep herself busy. But she had a vivid imagination. If anything ever happened to Bryan, would she be notified? What about his family? Would anyone explain to them that he was a spy, that he’d died defending their country? Or would he just disappear, leaving the family to wonder?

She couldn’t live like that long-term. Even if Bryan were willing to change his policy and make a commitment, she didn’t think she could. Yes, it was exciting working with and living with a spy. But it wasn’t a forever kind of arrangement.

Bryan had told her to go downstairs to the restaurant when she got hungry, that Stash would take care of her. He’d fixed the elevator so it would recognize her voice and had instructed her on passwords and “panic pass-words”—in case she was ever in the elevator under duress. She’d laughed at the cloak-and-dagger antics, but he’d been serious.

She went down to Une Nuit to rustle up some lunch. She entered through the kitchen, and her face grew warm as she was reminded of what had gone on there the previous night.

“Lindsay!” Stash Martin greeted her with a double air-kiss. “Bryan said you’d be down for lunch. Scarlet’s in the Elliott booth if you want to sit with her.”

“I don’t want to intrude—”

“Nonsense. I am sure she would welcome your charming company.” Refusing to acknowledge any further protests, Stash led her into the dining room, where Scarlet, dressed in the most gorgeous teal dress with feathers all around the neck, shared a booth with another woman who had her back to Lucy.

Scarlet looked both surprised and pleased when she saw Lucy. “Oh, please join us,” she said. “We haven’t even ordered yet. This is Jessie. I don’t think you’ve met her.”

The other woman smiled warmly and shook Lucy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Lindsay.”

“Same here. Scarlet, I didn’t realize you had another sister.”

“What?” both women said at the same time.

Lindsay looked at Scarlet, then Jessie, then Scarlet again. Though they weren’t as similar as Scarlet and Summer, the family resemblance was unmistakable.

“You’re sisters, right?”

Scarlet laughed, and Jessie just looked horrified.

“What in the world would make you think that?” Jessie said, a little more strongly than Lucy thought was called for.

“Sorry, I thought I saw a family resemblance,” Lucy said, trying to smooth over the awkward moment. “My mistake.”

Scarlet explained, “This is Jessie Clayton. She’s my intern at Charisma.”

“You know,” Jessie said, “I’ve really got an awful lot of work to do. I think I’ll skip lunch.” She tried to slide out of the booth, but Scarlet leaned over and put a hand on her arm to stop her.

“Oh, come on, Jessie, I’m not a slave driver. You can take time for lunch.”

“No, really, I have to go.” She stood and made good her escape despite both Lucy’s and Scarlet’s protests.

Lucy sat on the recently vacated leather banquette. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare her off.”

Scarlet looked perplexed. “That was strange. I wonder what got into her? Maybe she was distressed at the idea that she looks like me.”

“Oh, yes, you’re such an ogre,” Lucy said. “No one wants to look like you.”

“Do you really think there’s a resemblance? Because I thought so, too, when I first hired her, but then I decided I was imagining things.”

“Well, lots of people look similar,” Lucy said, downplaying the uncanny resemblance. “She’s probably got Irish in her, like you.”

Scarlet ordered mineral water and her favorite salad Niçoise, which came adorned with tiny eggrolls. Lucy, who continued to be delighted by the French/Asian blended menu, ordered an egg-drop soup Florentine.

“That’s all you’re having?” Scarlet asked.

“After that huge dinner last night, I haven’t been very hungry.” Not to mention the orange-chocolate-mint cake.

“So where’s Bryan today?”

“Out and about. I’m not sure.”

“So he doesn’t tell you any more about his business than he tells anyone else?”

“I don’t want to be nosy.”

“Well, I am. Honestly, the whole family is a little fed up with him. He’s been so secretive lately. We all thought maybe you were the secret, but apparently not, since he’s still doing his disappearing act.”