Undercover Encounter. Rebecca York

Undercover Encounter - Rebecca York


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an alley. Which you could have if somebody else besides a fellow law enforcement officer had grabbed you.”

      She folded her arms over her middle. “You took me by surprise. And you’re not playing fair. You’ve had the same training that I have. And you used it against me.”

      He ignored the second part of her objection and focused on the first. “That’s the way it happens in real life. You don’t get to pick the place and time where the bad guy is waiting for you.”

      “I know that.” She yanked her gaze away from him and made a show of looking at her watch. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m late for a training session now.”

      When she tried to brush past him, he put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. It’s already started. Let’s go on to the next phase.”

      Her head came up and she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

      “In case you haven’t gotten the message, I’m your trainer for the afternoon.”

      “No.”

      “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice. Of course, if you want to confirm that assignment, you can give Lieutenant LeBarron a call.”

      She thought about doing just that, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t do her much good. “No,” she said again through gritted teeth. “I’ll take your word for it.”

      “Then you’re with me for the next few hours.”

      She wedged her fists on her hips. “What strings did you pull to get me into this position?”

      He had the grace to look uncomfortable, then recovered quickly. “As you might have figured out the other night, I’m an integral part of this operation,” he said, paraphrasing her previous statement.

      “Which means what?”

      He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s an undercover operation. I’d rather not talk about it out here.”

      “But if you’re in on it, then we’re supposed to be working together! Not playing games,” she added in a gritty voice.

      “I’m not playing anything,” he snapped. “If you got exposed and interrogated, you can’t blab what you don’t know.”

      Interrogated! She tried not to think about the implications of that.

      “We’re going to be working together, so we might as well get comfortable with each other,” he said in an easy voice. But she was sure his apparent conciliatory demeanor was just an act. Both of them knew there was no way for them to be comfortable with each other. Not with pictures flashing in her mind of the hot and steamy sex they’d enjoyed before he’d ended the relationship. Was he thinking about that, too?

      He was walking in front of her now, so she couldn’t see his face, and she didn’t like the eager way he crossed the courtyard, his footsteps echoing on the paving stones. Just what did this training session involve?

      She figured she’d find out soon enough as he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked a door on the far side. When she glanced at the number over the door, she noted that it was the address where she’d been told to report.

      He paused and looked back over his shoulder. Managing a casual shrug, she followed him inside.

      Alex led her into a dimly lit chamber. As soon as she’d cleared the door, he reached behind her and pushed it firmly shut. The sound of the lock turning was like a gunshot in the confined space. The drapes were drawn. Ignoring her, Alex moved several feet farther into the room and switched on a table lamp. In the warm glow from the light, she glanced nervously around the confined space and saw a chair, a chest, a night table. They were battered and old, like the furniture in her parents’ house. But this room lacked any of the warmth her mom had given their home. And the piece of furniture that dominated the room was a double bed covered with a dingy chenille spread.

      It registered then that she and Alex McMullin were alone in a very small bedroom.

      “I thought we were going to go over self-defense strategies,” she blurted, the words difficult to pronounce because her mouth was so dry. “This isn’t supposed to be anything sexual.”

      He turned back to face her, looking her up and down, his gaze pausing at her breasts and then rising to her face again. “Well, there are two answers to that implied question,” he said as though conducting a lecture at the police academy. “First, you are playing the part of a prostitute. So, by its very nature, your assignment has sexual implications. And second, as I said, the two of us have to be comfortable with each other. Depending on how things shake out, you and I could easily end up in bed together.”

      The implications of point two had her reacting instantly. “Now wait a minute!”

      “I mean, we might have to act like we’re on very friendly terms,” he said smoothly.

      As he spoke he took a step closer to her and she struggled not to back up. He was right, but she was pretty sure there was no way in hell she could act like she was pleased to be around him.

      He stopped a few inches from her, well inside her comfort zone. Reaching out a hand, he stroked his finger lightly up her arm. Under any other circumstances, she would have turned him in for sexual harassment. But the assignment had given him the right to step over the line. Or had it? She wasn’t thinking too clearly because her reaction was instantaneous. A shiver went through her body, quivering in all the sensitive places, and the only thing he’d done was touch her with one finger.

      It took all her concentration to keep from looking down to see if her tightened nipples were poking out the front of her suit jacket. At the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. His hand dropped away from her and she saw him press his fingers against his thigh. She wanted to take that as evidence that the touch had affected him as startlingly as it had affected her. But she knew that her assumption would never stand up in court.

      For several heartbeats, neither one of them moved.

      Finally, Alex cleared his throat. “So, you joined the N.O.P.D.”

      “Yes.”

      “Why?”

      Keeping her features even, she scrambled for something that would sound like the truth. Certainly she didn’t want to admit that it had made her feel closer to him. That would be much too revealing. And she didn’t want to say that his idealism had rubbed off on her. She settled for, “It was a way to better myself.”

      He made a snorting sound.

      She reacted with an angry question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Wait a minute. You can’t say that your reaction was nothing.”

      “You could have done better.”

      “How?”

      He crossed his arms. “You got yourself a college degree. There are lots of jobs.”

      “What—were you checking up on me?”

      He flushed, then recovered. “You don’t get into the police academy without a degree.”

      She was still thinking about his response when she answered, “In case you haven’t noticed, the job market sucks. There aren’t a lot of terrific positions out there for college graduates who don’t go further in school. I could have gone back to being a cocktail waitress. Or I could have accepted a red-hot offer to sell copy machines. Both of those were dead ends.”

      He slipped his hands into his pockets. “So you like playing prostitute?” he asked.

      She knew he was baiting her, but she couldn’t stop herself from trying to explain. “Of course I didn’t join the police force to be a prostitute. But I can’t say I’m ashamed to be involved in this task force. It’s a good opportunity for me,” she said, repeating what Lieutenant LeBarron


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