The Art Of Deception, Book Two, Stolen Hearts series, Romantic Suspense (26 page)

“You really have to know, don’t you?”

“I guess the right thing to say is only if you want to tell me.”

The stark lines in his face softened. “I don’t have a chance against you, do I?” He cleared his throat and looked away. “My father was a loser. Always looking for the next sweet deal. Money for nothing; that was his motto. Only he never found that sweet deal, and every time he failed, he’d get drunk and come home and take it out on anyone who was around, the smaller, the better.”

A hard pain bound her chest. She should never have asked. “Why didn’t your mother leave him?”

“I honestly don’t know." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and turned his back to her as he sat up. “She cleaned other people’s houses to pay the rent and put food on the table. She was so damned tired all the time. I guess she just never had the energy to think it through. I was supposed to get a job as soon as I finished college and take her and Maisie away from him. She died before I finished school.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shot to his feet. “Yeah, we were all sorry. So that’s my dark, dirty secret. Satisfied?”

She sunk further into the bed. Now she knew where
Gage
got his big, bad cop routine from. Only it wasn’t a routine’; it was part of who he was. “And then you decided to work for the FBI.”

“I always wanted to work for the Feds. They have rules and regulations, procedures to follow that ensure success. The job suited me. All I had to do was follow the rules, and unlike my father, I’d get it right each and every time-–until you came along. So here we are, Sophie. I’m so crazy in love with you, I’m ready to throw my whole damned career out the window.

“Have you heard enough yet? Sorry I didn’t have some nice, little story to give you, but what the hell? You might as well know what you’re getting into.”

Did he really think harsh words would send her running?  She gulped in air, but couldn’t stop her tears from spilling.

“Aw hell, buttercup." He was by her side in an instant. He gathered her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “It’s not true. About my family, it is, but my career was in trouble long before I met you. I’ve learned so much in the short time I’ve known you, and I...I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“It’s kind of a damned if you do and damned if you don’t situation, I guess." She pulled out his arms and wiped her tears away. “I don’t know what to say, Vince. Except I love you and I’m sorry that upsets you.”

“It doesn’t upset me." He attempted a lopsided grin. “Maybe I’m not handling all this falling in love thing too well, but it’ll work out. I’d stake my life on it.”

A fervent pray formed in her head as her lips sought his. Keep him safe. Keep him well. With everything that had been happening, they both stood to lose too much.

Sophie huddled closer to Gage’s big warm body and pulled the sheet over her head. Blaring white walls in a bedroom should be outlawed. Especially when the room faced east as this room did.

“You hiding?” Gage pulled the sheet down and smiled sleepily at her.

After the things they did last night, she should be. “The color’s all wrong in here. You need to paint this room sage green.”

His smile spread wider. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”

“After ten o’clock I am. I suppose you’re an early bird.”

He draped an arm over her hip and tugged her against his sleep warmed body. “This is sleeping in for me. Usually I’m up by six. I love those first few hours in the morning.”

“I don’t."

“I could probably change your mind if you let me." He brushed his fingertips over her belly, then lower.

Heat flared wherever he touched her, burning away her drowsy cocoon. A low hum started deep down inside. She hadn’t known a body could hum, even sing. She hadn’t known a lot of things before last night. “You’re not going to get me all excited, then jump up and say you have to go to work, are you?”

Laughing, Gage rolled on to his back and dragged her on top of him. “Not unless I want to suffer all day." He guided her hand to his arousal. “I dreamt about this last night, waking up beside you, taking you before you were fully awake.”

Heat undulated through her. “I like the sound of that.”

He smiled and lifted her over him. “I thought you might.”

Half an hour later, Sophie smiled into the pillow when she heard the shower stop running. Vince had banned her from the bathroom until he was dressed and ready for work. He was going to be late as it was, he’d said, and if she showered with him, he wouldn’t get there at all.

Her smile faded. She pushed the tangled sheet off and rolled out of bed. Raphael was in jail, someone had destroyed her paintings, and Vince had compromised his job in a big way by bringing her home last night. It was going to be a rough day all around, and if she guessed correctly, he would do everything he could to protect her from the fall-out. She had other plans.

“I thought you might go back to sleep." Buttoned into a crisp white shirt and grey flannel pants, he smiled at her from the open bathroom door.

“Can I catch a ride with you downtown? I want to see Raphael.”

His face darkened. “No.”

“Fine. I’ll take the bus.”

“Listen to me." He crossed the room with a purposeful stride. “I know it’s important for you to see Raphael, but it’s not safe for you to go anywhere. Whoever broke into your apartment last night is a very disturbed, not to mention dangerous, person, and they’ve lost the little bit of control they had. You’ll be safe here.”

He raised her chin until she looked at him. “I’m going to get him, but if I have to worry about you out there on your own, I won’t be able to concentrate. Stay here. For me.”

She sighed in defeat. “I don’t know why I’m the one always running around naked, and you’re always wearing clothes.”

A grin broke out across his face. He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s all part of my master plan.”

“Very funny." She grabbed her overnight bag off the floor. “I’m going to have a shower.”

“Coffee will be on in five. I’ll close all the blinds and turn up the thermostat just in case.”

“In case what?”

“You don’t find anything to wear." He laughed a deep, rich laugh. “My kitchen never looked so good as it did last night.”

She hid her smile and escaped to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she flew down the stairs ready to go round two with Gage. She suspected Raphael knew more than he’d told them last night, and if he was going to open up to anyone, it would be to her, not the FBI.

Of course the easiest thing to do was let Gage go to work, then take off on her own, but she couldn’t do that. He deserved better. He deserved the best, and although she wasn’t entirely convinced she was the best, after the night they’d spent together, she wanted to be.

Her heart did a wonderful leap when she saw Gage sitting at the table reading the morning paper. He’d put on his charcoal grey suit jacket to match his pants. A red tie was knotted precisely around his neck, and when he looked up, his eyes smiled at her from behind his wire frame glasses. A plume of heat feathered through her as she skidded to a stop. Who would have guessed such a buttoned down guy could be so mouthwateringly sexy?

She walked over to him, pushed the paper to one side and climbed onto his lap. “Want to know a secret?” She wound her arms around his neck and brought her mouth close to his.

“Showers improve your morning disposition?” He laughed against her mouth.

“Those glasses are a total turn on.”

“Too bad I only need them for reading.”

“I’ll take what I can get." She opened her mouth to him and kissed him deeply.

His hands tightened on her, then suddenly, he stood taking her with him. He turned and gently deposited her in his chair. “Any other day, buttercup." His smile held a touch of pride, a touch of regret.

“I know. Work calls. I have to talk to you about that. I think Raphael didn’t tell us everything last night.”

“No kidding." He went over to the coffee maker and poured her a cup.

“You knew?”

“I suspected he might be holding something back. I’m going to talk to him this morning." He put the cup in front of her and pushed the carton of milk across the table.

“He’d be more open with me.”

“Maybe, but you’re not leaving this house today. Got it?”  He frowned down at her.

She shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

“I can trust you, right, Sophie? You’ll stay here?”

“Yes. You can trust me.”

If the field office was quieter than usual, Gage supposed it was because he was late. Everyone had already settled into their work for the day. Which was fine with him because he wasn’t in the mood to chat. No, his mood veered closer to hauling a few people into the interrogation room and ripping their stories apart.

Several yards away from his desk, he stopped and narrowed his eyes. His locked desk drawer that held his files gaped open. Chance Spencer, feet up on the desk, tilted back in his chair reading Gage’s notes. Damn the man, there wasn’t a lock invented Spencer couldn’t pick.

“What are you doing here?  Gage rammed his hands in his pockets to stop himself from grabbing the file from his friend.

“You’re late." Spencer continued reading.

“And you’re not supposed to be here. What’s going on?”

“You missed Parker’s fit this morning." He tossed the file on the desk and finally looked at Gage. “I came in to pick up a couple of my case files. Parker blew a valve because Tippens collared your guy last night. Problem is, Pascotto said he already confessed to you and won’t talk to anyone else. You messed up man. The Super is out for blood, preferably yours.”

Gage sank into the chair beside the desk. “I had a feeling Tippens was going to get cute.”

“Why didn’t you bring Pascotto in yourself?”

“I was busy.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Too busy to do your job? Since when?”

“I don’t need grief from you, Spencer.”

“Right." Spencer sat forward and leaned on the desk. “The case is mine now. Parker was going to give it to Tippens. I talked him into letting me have a shot at it first, so you better start talking and talk fast because Parker’s going to come barreling out of his office any minute now, and when he does, time’s up.”

Panic shot through him. Did Spencer mean his job was in jeopardy? How the hell had he arrived at this point? He dragged a shaky hand over his face. “I think Sophie’s life is in danger. Someone broke into her studio last night and slashed all her paintings. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Where is she now?”

“My house. She’s safe there.”

Spencer nodded. “Good. How does this tie into the forgeries?”

“I don’t know yet, but it does.”

“Suspects?”

Gage rolled names over in his mind. “Moira Pascotto, Cleo Anderson, and Walter Collins. Collins calls himself Ciro. There are others, but I’d go after those three first.”

“You think Sophie’s mother would do that to her?”

“I hope to hell not." From the corner of his eye, he caught movement in Parker’s office. He shifted in his chair until his back faced that direction. “Raphael swears he’s been set up. Sophie’s had some pretty weird things happening to her, so their mother could be targeted as well. They don’t talk to each other.”

Spencer looked at Gage, then down at the file. “There’s another possibility.”

“I know what you’re thinking. Sophie wouldn’t set me up." He didn’t have the facts to prove that, but in his gut or his heart, whatever people called it, he knew she was innocent. He’d stake his life on it. Hell, he was staking his life on it.

“She didn’t know anything about Raphael bringing the Matisse into the country?”

He hesitated a moment, acutely aware of the line he was about to cross. There would be no turning back. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. I’ve already called Cleo and Ciro and a couple of others to come in this morning. I’ll talk to Raphael first. This afternoon, I’ll go over to Mrs. Pascotto’s. She says she’s indisposed today." His expression tightened. “Here comes Parker. Good luck.”