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Authors: Stephanie Julian

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BOOK: Sex, Lies and Surveillance
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Finally, she took one step back, then another. Until she stood a few feet away and he could breathe again.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t want her to move back into his arms and really kiss him this time.

Instead, he said, “Um, I should probably get back to work.” He stepped back, deliberately letting himself bump into the doorway as he backed away. “I’ll, ah, see you later, Janey.”

Then he turned tail and practically ran back to his office, closing the door behind him. Let her think he was a dork. If he’d stayed any longer, he would’ve blown his cover by throwing her on the desk and following her down.

Heartburn returning with a vengeance, he rubbed at the fiery ache in his chest and reached for the antacid tablets that had taken up permanent residence in his desk drawer. He chewed two while he chewed out his own ass.

“You gotta get your head back in the game, asshole.”

You got that right, son.

“Shut up, Dad.”

Christ, he rolled his eyes. He was definitely losing it.

Which meant he could be pulled off this case. He couldn’t afford that.

He’d promised himself and Dev that he’d find the people responsible for his young partner’s death. He owed Dev that, at the very least. Hell, he owed Dev so damn much…

Even if it was the DeMarcos.

No one could be as clean as they appeared to be. That worried him. There had to be something, some skeleton in the closet they’d hidden away.

But if they weren’t, if they really had gone over to the dark side, what could possibly have turned loyal government agents into criminals? What was he missing?

Damn it. The more he was around Janey, the more stupid he seemed.

His phone rang.

“Mal, could you come upstairs for a few minutes?” Grace said. “I need to talk to you about a case.”

Pull it together, son. Or you’re going to be out of the frying pan and—

“Sure, I’ll be right there.”

Chapter Three

Janey pivoted into a roundhouse kick and nearly tipped the bag. A back fist, reverse punch, flip kick combination made it shudder.

“Hey. What’s gotten into you tonight? What did that jar-head brother of yours do today?”

Janey aimed a flying front kick squarely in the bag’s center. Best friends were great. They usually knew exactly what you’re thinking and they always wanted to help beat the crap out of whoever ticked you off.

Janey threw a quick grin at the woman lounging on a bench by the wall of the Broad Street gym. A true Philadelphia blueblood, Andrea Reed-Howell—known as Annie only to the DeMarcos—looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a workout tape. Her blond hair curled in its perfect ponytail high on her head and her matching dark blue shorts and sports bra barely showed the sweat, even though she’d been lifting weights for the past hour.

Janey knew she must look like a banshee in comparison, dark hair falling out of her ponytail and mismatched black sports bra and gray shorts sticking to her sweaty skin.

She shook her head. “Nope, it’s not Nic. And jarheads are Marines. Nic was a Ranger. I’m just keyed up.”

That kiss… It’d been enough to make her body heat until she could barely breathe.

Annie nodded solemnly. “Ah. It’s that guy again.”

Janey didn’t miss a beat in her workout. “What guy?”

Annie’s laugh told her she wasn’t getting away with anything. “You know perfectly well what guy. Have you asked him out yet?”

Janey put more force than necessary into her next roundhouse kick and the bag, its bottom filled with sand, tipped and crashed to the floor. A few of the other people in the area turned and gave her a round of applause that she acknowledged with a little wave as two male trainers came over to pick up the bag.

After a second, though, she grimaced as the tingle in her foot radiated pain upward. Limping to the bench, she shoved Annie’s long legs off the seat and flopped onto it.

“Ow, ow, ow. Jeez, that hurt. And you know I can’t ask him out, so just stop. You’re as bad as my mother.”

“Your mother usually has good taste,” Annie drawled, a grin playing around her full lips.

“My mother wants grandchildren,” Janey shot back. “She figures I’m the only one of her children who might actually provide them. And I will. Just not on her schedule.”

“Kids don’t just grow on trees.” Annie tsked. “You do know you actually have to have sex to get pregnant, right? Just making doe eyes at the guy won’t do it.”

Janey rolled her eyes at Annie’s often repeated argument. “I’m not an idiot.”

“No, you’re just determined to hide away in your office, waiting for the right guy to show up. Well, if you ask me, he did. I mean, how much more obvious does the universe have to get? It practically handed Mal to you on a plate. I say go for it.”

Universe and parent approved. Well, gee, aren’t I lucky.

“You know I can’t. He
works
for us. I can’t just take him to bed. What happens when he dumps me? Or I dump him?” she quickly added when Annie’s eyebrows lifted. “I mean, we still have to work in the same office. That would totally suck.”

Still, it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. More than a few times. Okay, it’d crossed her mind more than a few times in the past few minutes.

And she’d given it serious consideration after he’d come to her rescue today. She’d seen something in his expression, something that didn’t fit with the geeky image he tried so hard to project. But then Nic had barged in—

“Hey, Janey. You zoned out for a sec.”

Janey grimaced and shook her head. “Sorry, just thinking. Nic was doing his asshole impression today and Bennett was in—”

“Ooh, that guy’s such a slime.” Annie shuddered theatrically. “Even his movies are slimy. I don’t know how they make so much money. But…I have the perfect antidote. Come out with Brad and me Tuesday night. He has a friend coming in to do some business and I’d hoped you’d be willing to hang out with us. I really want you meet Brad. We’ve been going out for a while now and if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were avoiding him.”

Actually, Janey
was
avoiding good old Brad. She was sick of meeting the guys who constantly broke Annie’s heart. And she certainly didn’t want to double date.

Maybe she should just ask Mal out…

Janey leaned her head on Annie’s shoulder. “Let me see, okay? I’ll have to check the calendar.”
Liar
. “Dad’s still not up to speed and Mom’s trying to do too much. God knows what Jimmy’s working on in the basement and Nic just never stops.”

Annie froze at the mention of Nic. Annie thought she’d hidden her feelings so well, that no one knew how she felt about Nic. But Janey knew Annie had been lusting after her idiot brother for years.

If she could get past the fact that he was her brother, she guessed she could see why. Tall, dark and handsome did it for some women. And Nic did have his decent qualities. Some.

Okay, her brothers may be overprotective but they were the best older brothers a girl could ever have.

“Probably out chasing women every night.”

Janey slid Annie a glance. “I can’t remember the last time Nic had a date.”

“Probably because no one will go out with him.” Annie relaxed slightly. “But you don’t have that excuse. Come on, come out with us.”

Janey rose, but not before slugging Annie in the arm. “Just let me look at the calendar and I’ll let you know.” Annie opened her mouth to badger her some more but Janey held up her hand. “One more word about it and I’ll set you up on a blind date with Nic, Annie. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

***

Proof.

Surrounded by darkness broken only by the light of his monitor, Mal stared at the file fragment he’d retrieved after great struggle and a whole lot of four-letter words.

The jumble of characters on his screen was only partially readable but one word stood out—Carabini.

Finally, he had proof.

Sitting back in his chair, he laced his fingers behind his head and sighed, the sound ungodly loud in the deserted offices.

It was nearly ten o’clock on Thursday night. Grace and Frank had gone home shortly after he’d talked with them this afternoon. Nic had left around five to track a lead in New Jersey in the kidnapping. He’d said he probably wouldn’t be back until late morning.

Janey had left shortly after Mal around six o’clock. He knew because he’d watched her leave from his rented car parked up the street. Then he’d hit the jackpot and Jimmy had deserted his basement lab a half hour after Janey.

For the first time since he’d started the job, there was no one in the DeMarco building. Sure, any one of them could return at any time. But that only added to the adrenaline rush of sneaking back into the office to do some unmonitored digging.

And now that he’d actually found something…

He should call Gallagher, bring him up to date. But it was too risky to call from here. There could be listening devices throughout the building that he didn’t know about. He’d checked his office right after he’d started and didn’t find anything. Still, that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Not that he thought the DeMarcos were spying on him, but…

He’d have to leave the building, take a walk down the street. There weren’t a lot of pedestrians on Market at this time of night but it might look suspicious if someone recognized him going out of the building to make a call.

He still didn’t have enough information to make a strong case for continuing this investigation. Not yet. He needed more time to sort through this file and see if it turned up anything else.

Sounds like you’re doing a lot of tap dancing, son. Wanna explain that one?

Hell, no, he didn’t want to explain. He knew any explanation would sound a hell of a lot like an excuse.

Gallagher hadn’t given him much to go on when he’d assigned this case, just the mention of a link between the DeMarcos and Carabini. Even his handler had sounded skeptical that they’d be involved in anything illegal.

But now…

He rubbed his eyes, gritty from staring at the monitor in the dark, but he still had work to do. He needed to wipe all traces of his little jaunt from Janey’s network. The woman was too damn good at what she did to miss his digging if he didn’t make sure he’d erased it completely.

Working fast, he saved the recovered file onto a flash drive to examine later at his apartment and stuffed it in one of the many pockets on his pants. At least Merri had gotten one thing right—these cargo pants with Velcro pockets were great for hiding things—

He jumped out of his chair as the front door opened and closed. Glancing at his watch, Cal bit back a curse.

He’d fucking blanked on nearly forty-five minutes. Combined with his lapse in judgment yesterday and today when he’d let Janey touch him, he figured his number had been called, punched and put out to pasture.

As footsteps sounded down the hall, he knew he’d just have to—

“Turn around slowly, hands on your head.”

Behind his desk, Mal froze. In the darkness of the room, he wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure Janey held a gun aimed at his head.

He did as she asked, not having to work at conjuring up a suitably anxious expression. “Janey? It’s me. Mal. Don’t shoot, okay.”

There was dead silence, and then, “Oh, jeez. I don’t believe this.”

With a faint click, the room’s overhead light flashed on. Blinking quickly to adjust his eyesight, he turned to see her standing in the shadows of the hallway, shaking her head, arms lowered to her side.

“I am
so
sorry,” she said. “You startled me. I didn’t expect anyone to be here. What are you doing in the dark? You could’ve at least turned on some lights. God, Mal. I could have shot you.”

Yeah, she could have. He flicked a quick glance at her gun, a Beretta pistol she held with practiced ease in those small hands.

He sucked in air. Oh, baby. That really shouldn’t turn him on as hard as it did.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t.” He forced a faint chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t know anyone was still here.”

Busted, son. You are so busted.

“There wasn’t supposed to be. What are
you
doing here?” she asked, and Mal heard a slight thread of suspicion lace her question.

“Nic asked me to look over some files.” He picked one off the desk and held it up. “I forgot them before I left. I just got here. Didn’t even have a chance to turn on the lights yet.”

He’d pulled the files before starting to search an hour ago, not really thinking he’d need them for cover but he was a careful guy. He didn’t like to leave things to chance.

He cleared his throat. “So what are you doing here so late?”

She shrugged, still staring at him with an expression he recognized and rightly feared. He’d watched her worm information from her brother Nic wearing that expression. The guy had folded after only ten minutes. “I have to make an overseas phone call and it was closer to come here from the gym than go home.”

Finally, she stepped into the room, into the light, and Mal got his first look at Janey in something other than a skirt and blouse. And damn if his cock didn’t start to rise to the occasion. What exactly the occasion was, he wasn’t sure but he was getting a hard-on she wouldn’t be able to miss.

With what he hoped was a casual motion, he lowered the files, slowly crinkling in his hands, until they covered the telltale ridge in his pants. He didn’t want her to—

Hell, son. At least be honest with yourself. You wish she’d look. You wish she’d do more than look.

No, I don’t—oh, fuck, yeah, I do.

He wanted her to look so he wouldn’t feel so fucking guilty about eyeing her like a side of beef. And who could blame him if they caught a glimpse of her.

Her unzipped sweatshirt gaped open to reveal a black sports bra that left her bare from the waistband of low-riding gray sweatpants to just below those gorgeous breasts. The smooth, flat skin of her stomach taunted him, his fingers itching to trail across it. Blood pulsed in his cock, making it twitch.

He wasn’t getting paid enough for this job.

Forcing his gaze back to hers, he realized he’d let himself look a little too long. Her left eyebrow lifted slightly higher than her right, but a smile played around the corners of her mouth.

Shit, what the hell had they been talking about? “Uh, so you need to make a call for Grace’s kidnapping case?”

She moved even closer to his desk. “Mmm-hmm.” Trailing one slim finger along the back of the leather chair in front of his desk, she maintained eye contact, watching his every move. “Working here must be pretty different from what you’re used to.” She gestured to the files in his hands and, for one heat-filled second, he thought she was referring to his erection. “Petty robberies and deadbeat dads.”

That moment of insanity was replaced with the dawning sense that she was digging for information.

Careful, son. Dangerous waters ahead.

He nodded. “It’s different, yeah, but mostly in a good way. So, how old is the kid?”

“Six.”

Speculation coated that one word like the chocolate on a Ding Dong.

Damn fool idiot. The woman read people like she read code and he’d practically come right out and told her he was hiding something by trying to divert the conversation. Still, he couldn’t back down now.

“The kid’s gotta be terrified.” Mal attempted to wrap her too-quick brain around something else. “If he’s still alive. A lot of these cases end badly.”

There. Her eyes sparked in fury. “I can’t stomach people who harm children. They’re cowards who prey on the weak.”

God, she was gorgeous when she was passionate about something and it looked like he’d hit the jackpot. And he couldn’t help wondering how all that passion would translate in the bedroom.

She must have misinterpreted his slight shift to relieve the increasing pressure of his pants on his erection as discomfort over her outburst. “Sorry.” She grimaced. “I’m tired. Long day and kickboxing wore me out.”

“Kickboxing, huh?” Prying one hand off the folders, he opened a drawer in his desk and searched for the roll of antacids. “That’s pretty…physical, isn’t it?”

BOOK: Sex, Lies and Surveillance
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