Hot in the City (4 page)

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Authors: Samantha Hunter

BOOK: Hot in the City
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Della shook her head. “And if he says yes, what if I miss my chance at someone else really great?”

“By the looks of the responses you have on your dating profile, I don’t think you have to worry about that anytime soon. If you want to see this guy again, you need to go for it.”

Della was tempted, but not convinced. She’d worked with men her entire life, and she was used to being the only woman in the room many times when it came to lectures or think tanks, but this was different. She would feel so foolish if he said no, and that would put a pall on the entire experience. Wouldn’t it be better just to enjoy the memory?

No, she was just making excuses.

“Think of it this way. It’s practice, right? You haven’t had a lot of chances to be with men who really know what they’re doing, and now you met one. Enjoy it, work off some steam and get some mad skills in bed for when you do meet Mr. Forever.”

Della brightened slightly. “That’s true.”

“And if he’s working for DHS, he has to be pretty trustworthy, right? What kind of work does he do for them? Is there some kind of problem in the city? Some new threat?”

Chloe looked slightly worried suddenly.

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Della reassured. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be hooking up with me if it was anything that serious. But we didn’t really talk about work that much.”

“If you must calculate odds, the best bet is that if you meet him again, you’ll have a great time. A guy that good in bed doesn’t lose his skills overnight, so take advantage while you can. Anything else, you can’t know for sure, no matter how many algorithms you apply.”

Della realized Chloe was right. It was her downfall that she often made things more complicated rather than simplifying them. Divide, instead of multiply. Just call Gabe and see what happened, and no matter what happened, she would have made a decision. It was better than drowning in what-ifs.

“You’re right. I feel so much better. I’ll call him after we’re done here,” she said, excitement making her bounce in her seat.

“Great! Maybe we could even do a double date, or if he’s here for a while, he could be your wedding date, perhaps?”

“Let’s see if he even talks to me. I don’t want to count on anything.”

Chloe smiled. “Now you’re learning. Just enjoy the moment. But still, if there’s a chance, I’d love to meet him. He sounds like quite a guy.”

Della smiled in return. “That would be nice. Thanks, Chloe.”

“You’re welcome. Now, what do you think of this dress? It’s the one I keep coming back to, but the cost is through the roof.”

Chloe stood, and Della, having made her decision to call Gabe and take control of her destiny—or at least of her sex life—was able to focus on the task at hand. She followed her friend to the mirror, studying how lovely Chloe looked in the gown. The special moment settled in, and tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away.

“I love it. It’s perfect. You only get married once, Chloe, and you should have the dress you dream about.”

Chloe looked like she was blinking away tears as well, and nodded.

“You have a romantic streak, Della. And it’s so good to have you here. I know we’ve known each other for less than a year, and this wedding was sort of a rush, but you’ve been such a good friend. And with none of my own family around, you’ve really become more like a sister.”

Now Della did get teary, as she had no siblings, either. To think that Chloe felt that way about her was very moving.

“Thank you. I feel exactly the same. I’m so honored that you asked me to be your maid of honor, even though you know I have no clue what I’m doing.”

They laughed, and Chloe grinned. “How are the dance lessons coming along?”

Della made a face. “I suck.”

Chloe laughed again. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You haven’t had much time to learn. And you need a good partner. Maybe Gabe can help you out,” she added with a hint of mischief.

Della bit her lip, wondering. She hadn’t considered that, or that perhaps Gabe would be her date to some wedding events, if he was around. Justin’s best man was married, so Della had resigned herself to going solo, but maybe...?

Don’t go there
, she reminded herself. That way lay disappointment. Just enjoy whatever happens, if anything does happen.

“So, now that we know what I’m wearing to this event, we need to try on your selections.”

“Selections? I haven’t made any selections yet.”

“I did,” Chloe said mischievously.

Della rolled her eyes, but submitted as Chloe signaled to the saleslady to bring in some of the dresses she had set aside for Della.

Chloe was always chiding her about her bland style, wearing mostly black and grey, wool and cotton, and relatively modest clothes. The skirt and tank top she’d worn out with Gabe the night before had been obtained on a shopping trip with Chloe, who had given in on the black tank top, but convinced her to buy the form-fitting denim skirt.

Gabe had clearly approved, and so Della decided maybe Chloe had a point.

The saleslady brought in three dresses, and all of them made Della gasp.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” Chloe cooed. “C’mon, try them on.”

Della was led away by the saleswoman, along with the gowns. The assortment ranged among shades of rose, which was Chloe’s choice, of course, and all three were as daring as they were...sensual.

The first one was a Grecian, off-the-shoulder style of sheer, draped material that caught at the waist with a silver pin. It moved around her in the most wonderful froth of fabric Della had ever imagined. When she walked, it was if she were floating.

“Oh, that one is superb. It would drive any man crazy,” Chloe said approvingly.

“It’s very comfortable, too. I like it.”

“Try the next, anyway. We need to see all of them.”

Grudgingly, she did so. The second one had a neckline so deep Della was pretty sure she could probably step out of the dress through the front. Chloe liked it, but commented that Della would probably have to tape her breasts in place, so as not to have a fashion faux pas. Della nixed that dress immediately.

The third was more modestly cut, but fit like a glove, and because of that, was even more revealing than the others.

“I like it,” Della said, studying her image in the mirror with Chloe. She looked so sleek, and the dress seemed to compress all of her curves into a very nice shape. “But it doesn’t feel as nice as the first one, and it would be difficult to dance in this one. I really like the Grecian style, and I would rather move comfortably.”

“Agreed. And the first is a very romantic dress, while still being sexy. It also looked the best with your hair color and figure. I was worried that rose color, with your strawberry, would be a clash, but that shade works. I think because it’s muted, and the off-the-shoulder style takes the color away from your neckline, so it shows off that amazing skin of yours, rather than clashing with your hair.”

Della smirked. “You really think a lot about these kinds of things. Good thing one of us does.”

Chloe chuckled. “You have basically good instincts. You just need to be a bit more daring.”

“So this is decided?”

“Yes. Do you want to go get a coffee to celebrate?”

“I can’t,” Della said, looking at her watch. “I wanted to drop some paperwork off downtown, and I have an appointment after that.”

“And you have to call lover boy.”

Della felt her cheeks warm. “Yes, and that.”

“Speaking of that, maybe you should buy some sexy extras while you’re here. They have some beautiful things out front.”

“Oh, I don’t know—”

“Don’t second-guess, Della. You’re having a fling with a sexy stranger. Make the most of it.”

Della took a deep breath and agreed with a nod. Returning to the dressing room, she took the dress off, and then waited for the store’s seamstress to take her measurements so that it could be altered appropriately.

Then, she and Chloe bought several more pieces of lingerie than Della thought she would ever need, but they were fun to pick out. She wondered if Gabe would be surprised. Last night, all she had been wearing were her usual, plain cotton bikinis and he hadn’t seemed to mind at all.

Leaving the shop, she and Chloe parted ways, and Della’s attention turned to the evening ahead. She was too distracted to think about work, and it wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait.

Chloe was right—she had to go for it with Gabe. She had everything to gain, and very little to lose. But she balked at calling him and suggesting he come to her house. Should they meet somewhere else?

If she asked him out for a drink, and then things happened more naturally, she was far more comfortable with that.

But that was also
boring
.

Della was tired of being boring. Gabe was a federal agent, and a man who had experienced a lot more of life than she had. What made her think he would want to see her again? She wanted to stand out in his memory like he did in hers. To make herself desirable, more mysterious.

Maybe if she did something more creative than just calling him—she could make it a game of sorts.

Excitement tingled underneath her skin as an idea formed, and before she could talk herself out of it, she took out her phone and opened the GPS application. Some quick calculations, and she’d sent off a message to Gabe that hopefully would be much more intriguing than a phone call would have been.

Putting her phone away, she hurried down the sidewalk, smiling. She had more plans to make.

4

G
ABE
FINISHED
HIS
second drink, looking at the door of the Wall Street bar where he’d agreed to meet Della. Well, he assumed that was what this was about. All he’d received from her was a message that included GPS coordinates that led to this location. At first he’d been suspicious—what if it wasn’t her? Or why wouldn’t she just call him directly?

Gabe became increasingly antsy and curious the longer he sat, waiting.

What was Della up to?

He wasn’t sure he should be here, or if he should have made any plans to see her again at all. He’d combed through her locked files and found nothing of too much interest. Her work on the vaccine project had been mostly related to risk analysis, very compartmentalized and early in the project. There were no other red flags in her life. Her emails and academic work were all straightforward. He was running background checks on her friends, colleagues, just in case, but there’d been nothing overtly alarming.

He shouldn’t have come here, but the strange message had intrigued him. If it wasn’t from Della, then he needed to know what was going on.

Right.

The truth was that he liked her, and he wanted to see her again, in spite of the situation.

You lied to her, so what? It’s the job. Lives depend on what you do.
His mind replayed all the usual things he told himself so he could sleep at night. It wasn’t that they weren’t true, but they were getting harder and harder to believe.

Like today, which he’d spent interrogating a twenty-five-year-old junior scientist about the details of her private life until she was in tears. Tears never really bothered him; Gabe knew they could be a ploy. There had been enough cracks in the young employee’s interview to push her harder, and questions about her background, as well. Natalie Petroski could be the leak. He’d asked for surveillance to be installed in her home before she returned there.

Until they were satisfied that she was clean, he would review audio and video of everything she did, every aspect of her personal life, and with whom she did it. Especially with whom. They’d have to get some mobile surveillance on her as well, know where she went and who she saw.

It was legal—he had authorization—but it made Gabe feel dirty. And undeserving, he supposed, of spending time with someone like Della. What would she think if she knew?

He shook his head in disgust; he was getting soft. He never would have thought this way before.

Before what? Before deceiving too many people, losing too many friends and spending too many lonely nights thinking about it? Before he let himself love someone, thinking there was a future in it, only to find out differently? Before he let someone count more than the job, and it cost him his life? Or theirs?

He couldn’t deny it; since Janet had died, he’d started having doubts. He told himself it was grief, or a broken heart, but those things passed.

His doubts remained.

Maybe Della was a mistake for a whole different set of reasons. He had to focus on his work, and she was a distraction. A sexy distraction, but one he couldn’t afford. He’d often wondered on sleepless nights, if doubts about him, or about her choices, had been what distracted Janet. If they had created enough of a crack that she missed the shooter who hadn’t missed her. Had she thought of him in the end?

He shook his head as if trying to ward off the bad memories. He walked to the door, intending to leave as he saw a guy on a bike race to a stop in front. The man hopped off of the bike and then came through the door. He looked right at Gabe.

“This is for you.”

The guy handed him a small white box, wrapped with a black bow.

“Who sent it?”

Gabe was hardwired against receiving any mysterious packages, and automatically backed up as he assessed the situation around him.

“A really hot redhead,” the kid said with a large grin. “Lucky you.”

Gabe released a breath, the tension easing from his shoulders as he took the box and tipped the delivery guy, who sped off, leaving him standing there in the doorway to the bar, staring at the box.

Even knowing it was probably from Della, and all was probably fine, he had to fight every instinct in his mind to actually pull the ribbon and open the box. This didn’t seem like something the woman he’d met would do—she wasn’t the type.

His eyes widened as he lifted a sheer stocking from the box. Attached to the stocking was a piece of paper.

“What the...?”

Detaching the paper, he put the stocking back in the box and studied the numbers on the sheet of paper. It was definitely Della’s handwriting. He recognized it from all of the papers he’d gone through in her computer bag.

He took a seat at the bar, studying the sheet.

What was she up to?

After a minute or two, he saw the start of the pattern, discerning the code. His heartbeat sped up a little—Della was luring him to her with a system of clues.

Or was it some kind of trap?

Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he worked out the clues in a matter of minutes. The numbers were a subway line, an address and a time signature—he should be at the location indicated by eight.

That gave him about a half hour to make it all the way uptown. Apparently, this train would get him there on time.

Booking it to the closest subway platform, he boarded the train, which he had nearly missed.

What was Della up to? Where was she leading him?

Sitting down on an empty bench, he opened the box again and touched the soft material of the stocking, his blood instantly warming.

The idea of being with Della again was intoxicating, and this game was making it even more so.

Apparently there was more to Dr. Clark than he’d assumed. If she was trying to draw him in, it was working. Though Gabe still kept his guard up—he couldn’t be sure this was really Della or that there wasn’t something else going on.

Eventually, he emerged onto the street, and the signs near the subway platform told him he was near the American Museum of Natural History.

He stood there for a while, looking for another clue and checking his watch. Eight on the dot, but no Della in sight.

Then he saw it—a napkin from the Italian restaurant they’d eaten at the night they met, tacked to the telephone pole at the corner.

He quickly took it from the pole and saw Della’s script again. She’d written only
I’m waiting for you under the stars
.

The stars? It was not quite dark yet, though the stars were peeking out a few places, he noticed, looking up.

Then his eye caught sight of a sign pointing to the natural history museum, which contained the Hayden Planetarium. Following the signs to the museum, he saw it was closed.

What was he supposed to do now?

“Are you Gabe Ross?” someone asked.

Gabe spun around to find a small, compact woman staring at him—her uniform said she was museum security.

“I am.”

“Della told me you were a tall drink of water,” she said with a grin. “Follow me, please.”

They went in a side door, through a warehouse and then upstairs to the main entry.

“She’s waiting for you in her favorite spot,” the guard said, pointing to a sign. “Just follow those signs, and you’ll find her. And no rush, I’m here all night,” she said with a wink before turning back the other way.

Gabe followed her directions, and soon the beautiful astronomy exhibit came into view, a globe in a huge transparent room. He looked around, but didn’t see Della. Then he noticed the door was open to the actual planetarium, and he went inside.

Slowly. Cautiously. His hand on his sidearm, just in case.

But then he saw her.

She was down on the floor by the stage, the only one in the glowing light of the room, stars floating by on the massive screen overhead.

“Della?”

He walked down to find her stretched out on the floor on a plaid blanket, staring upward, the bottle of wine and some snacks in a basket by the corner of the blanket.

Her eyes met his. “Gabe. You came.”

He lowered himself down to the blanket. “What’s this all about, Della?”

She sat up, smiling at him.

Gabe could only stare at how pretty she was, completely distracted as the soft starlight fell over her face and burnished curls.

“Do you have my stocking?”

He blinked, then realized she meant the one in the box.

“Yeah.”

She took it and unfolded one leg from underneath her, reaching to slide the sheer piece of cloth over her foot and calf.

Gabe’s mouth went dry as he watched.

“Della—”

She put her hand gently on top of his. For all of her seductive play, her expression seemed unsure, her touch tentative.

“I hoped you’d come, but I wasn’t certain. I wanted to see you again, but I also wanted it to be special. Memorable.”

Gabe nodded. “You managed that. You’re full of surprises, Della.”

She grinned. “Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s the sky, what it looked like two million years ago.”

He looked up. “It’s pretty impressive.”

Gabe loosened his tie, leaned back on his elbow. He wasn’t as interested in looking at the sky projection as he was looking at Della.

How was it that she seemed to be more beautiful than the last time he saw her?

“So do you know any of the stars or constellations?”

“Not really. I know the basics—Big Dipper, Orion, the stuff you learn in grade school.”

“Not an astronomy geek?”

“Nope, just a math geek, which is more than geeky enough, believe me,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes you can know too much, and my father told me that some things should stay magical. I love watching the stars, looking at flowers. I don’t need to know how they work, or all of the details. They’re just beautiful.”

He reached for her hand, held it in his, feeling the mood shift, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

“I can understand that. Knowing too much—about anything—definitely can make you jaded. It’s nice that you want to keep some things sacred.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you.”

“And you are the least geeky person I know—especially in that dress and those heels. Definitely not geeky.”

Her eyes lowered, lashes brushing her cheek, but he could tell she was pleased.

His heart stuttered slightly as he watched her lips part, and he knew he was going down a dangerous path.

“I almost didn’t come tonight,” he blurted.

Her head shot up and she looked at him in surprise.

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should. I wasn’t completely honest with you, Della. I do work in logistics, but I also do more. The kind of things I can’t tell you about.”

Her brow rose slightly, and she nodded, seeming to understand.

“My job has jaded me, Della. I wasn’t even sure about your clues, the package, the note. I thought it might be some kind of a trick, or a trap,” he said, shaking his head and exhaling a deep breath. “I’m not an easy man, Della. And I tend to think the worst. It comes with the job.”

“Oh,” she said, her hand coming to her lips as her eyes widened in realization. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t even think how you might see this as suspicious—”

He put his hand up, stemming her apologies.

“There was no reason for you to. Normal people wouldn’t see it that way. But my life...it’s how my mind works, I guess. I don’t believe in romance, or magic, or...this,” he said, looking up at the stars. “I can’t afford to.”

“Why not?” she said, her lips dipping into a small frown.

“It’s a distraction.
You’re
a distraction, and that can be dangerous.”

Gabe hadn’t intended to put everything out on the table like that, but it was incredibly good to be able to say something openly and honestly, and he hadn’t said anything that would compromise his case.

Della looked at him, dumbstruck. “I’m a distraction?”

“A big one. It took me a while to stop thinking about last night. But the things I have to do, Della, sometimes... I don’t think you’d want to be with me if you knew.”

He hadn’t talked to anyone about his work in so long, on a personal level, that he didn’t realize how much he’d needed to. He and Janet had talked, but it was different, since they were partners. When they became intimate, they tried to leave work behind, though it was almost impossible. It was too much a part of who they were.

To be able to say something he was feeling, even if in a roundabout way, was enormous. It was possible that he would put off Della by admitting so much, but maybe that would be a good thing.

She was quiet for several beats, and then met his look with a steady one of her own.

“I may not know about your work specifically, and I understand why you can’t tell me, but I can guess. I know the costs, as well. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, or that you don’t have a right to have a life. Maybe you need those moments of magic more than anyone.”

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think you really can know—”

“I do. I do have security clearance—not as high as yours, I imagine, but high enough that I’ve worked with people in your position from time to time, and I see the toll it takes. One analyst I worked with on a project in DC, he killed himself after he made a wrong call on a project. It wasn’t his fault, not really. There were other people who could have caught the mistake, too, but he couldn’t live with it. So, I do know.”

He was aware she had clearance, and he was aware of the incident she mentioned, but her empathy was probably the most surprising thing to him of all. There wasn’t much of that in his world, not unless you were using it to get something you wanted. Everything in his world was strategic, an angle. Even magic.

Like a magician on stage, his life was made of illusions and sleight of hand. It was just another thing to use to get what you needed, he thought darkly.

What did he need from Della? Why was he here? He should stay as far away from her as he could, but he couldn’t quite convince himself of that.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he offered. “It’s terrible. I’ve seen too many people—friends, colleagues—who lost their lives, or ended up coping in self-destructive ways.”

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