The Seduction of Arabella Quinn Read online

  He'd ordered a martini; Bella, a Bloody Mary. Somehow he'd figured her for white wine. Showed how much he really knew about her, other than the size of her underwear.

  When he'd hid as long as good manners allowed, he lowered the menu, and found her staring at him. A knot that had nothing to do with the silk one at his neck, formed in his throat. Damn. He was getting choked up like a nerdy schoolboy. To cover his uneasiness, he flicked the menu with his finger. "There's a lot here to choose from. I hope you're hungry."

  "Famished," she said, her eyes never wavering from his. "You called this morning before I'd had breakfast and I've been thinking of dinner ever since."

  He pulled his gaze away from hers before he went cross-eyed, but felt compelled to swing it back. She was still looking at him. "Well, I hope you didn't overeat at breakfast. I'm thinking dessert after we stuff ourselves on real food."

  "I didn't eat breakfast. Or lunch. I do that quite often. Go without, until I could devour everything in sight."

  Damn it all, was she teasing him? Looking at him as though she could devour him along with the more traditional fare?

  He cleared his throat, something he rarely had to do to gain composure. "I'm not so disciplined. I take my fill whenever the need arises. Provided I have access." He could tease as well as the best of them. "To food, of course," he added, allowing himself a slight lift of a brow.

  "Of course," she acknowledged behind a smile that he worried might be too genuine to be seductive. Or was it? Maybe she was just damned good at play-acting. Hadn't he suspected as much last night?

  The waitress set their drinks down, asked if there was anything else they needed, and after an obviously much-rehearsed assurance that their food would be out shortly, retreated to another table.

  "Aren't you just the least bit curious about why I accepted your invitation so readily?"

  So, she was a mind reader, too.

  "To be honest, yes." He took a slow sip of the martini.

  She took a much slower sip of her Bloody Mary before she answered. "I'd like to know what really brought you to Barnaby's last night." She set the glass down and didn't so much as flinch when she came back with the clincher. "And to find out why you're having me followed."

  * * * *

  Nick covered the shock of Bella's words with a show of dismay that he strove to transfer to the tone of his voice. "What makes you think you're being followed?"

  "A couple of times in the past few weeks I've suspected as much. Then twice last week I thought I saw the same car that I suspected was following me, parked across the street from my house."

  "What kind of car? Did you get the make and model?"

  Bella set her glass down firmly in front of her, lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eyes. "How long are we going to play this game of 'you ask me a question and I'll answer it with a question'?"

  "Only until you answer this next one of mine. If you are being followed, what makes you think I have anything to do with it?"

  "On a hunch, I checked the phone book when I got home last night. You're not only in home security, you find missing persons, do skip traces, and personal surveillance--to quote your ad almost verbatim." She smiled, obviously satisfied with her thoroughness.

  He couldn't very well argue with her deduction. He'd either have to come clean, or think of some damned good excuse not to, in the next five seconds.

  She didn't grant him more than two seconds before she challenged him. "Just answer me straight. Are you having me followed?"

  Aw, shit. Decision time. Should he own up, or not? He contemplated leveling with her, but before he had the chance, she put his feet to the fire even more forcefully.

  "And don't tell me you just happened to stop in for a drink at Barnaby's when I've been going there every Friday for the past year and a half and I've never seen you there before. It's just too coincidental. My instincts tell me that my being followed, and Kevin's pending release from jail, are related. That's it isn't it? This has something to do with Kevin."

  She drew her shoulders back, let out a long, exaggerated sigh ... and waited.

  Damn Vince. It wasn't like him to do sloppy surveillance. First thing in the morning, Nick was going to call him on it. "Okay, I'll level with you. Yes, I was having you followed. For your own protection."

  Her jaw slid downward at the exact moment her eyes widened. "For my protection?"

  Their salads arrived and he had a temporary reprieve while the server ground pepper and sprinkled cheese to their satisfaction. When she was out of earshot he leaned forward. "I don't want you to go half-cocked crazy on me. It was just a precautionary measure. There's probably nothing at all to it..."

  "Please stop patronizing me and come to the point. I'm not the half-cocked crazy kind. Just give me the facts, as Joe Friday says on the middle-of-the-night reruns."

  Neither of them had even begun to eat. He felt bad about that after her admission that she hadn't eaten all day. "I thought you were famished. Can't the interrogation wait until our stomachs are full? I haven't had much in the way of real food today, either."

  "The facts." She was adamant.

  What the hell. Dinner was probably already ruined. As quickly as his brain concocted the story, his tongue turned it into a totally believable tale.

  He told her that sources in the police department were certain Kevin had stolen a bundle of money during the drug bust only weeks before the accident in which Nick's girlfriend had been killed. That the word was the people Kevin had double-crossed were waiting to nab him as soon as he got out of prison.

  "But what does that have to do with me?"

  She was good. Damn good. But he was in too deep now not to stick with the story he'd just given her and his original plan to gain her trust. "We know that Kevin called you a couple of weeks ago."

  Most of the color drained from her face. "Do you also know I told him I meant what I said seven years ago? That I never want to see him again."

  "But that doesn't mean he won't try to see you, does it?"

  She shook her head and mumbled a barely audible 'no'. Her skin was blanched and she feigned an attempt to make a start on her salad, but her hand shook visibly. He pretended not to notice and shifted his gaze back up to her face when she started speaking.

  "I still don't see why anyone would be interested in me. It's been seven years. I visited Kevin only once in prison. A month after he was sent there. I felt in spite of what he did..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Once was enough. I never went back."

  "Maybe they think you've been content to lay low until he got out. That the two of you are partners."

  Her face registered shock and disbelief. "Is that what you think?"

  "If I did, would I be concerned with your safety?" He was getting good at this.

  She looked at him with lowered eyes and asked in a subdued tone, "Do you always take a special interest in every case you're familiar with?" She looked up at him. "Even now that you're no longer a cop?"

  He shook his head. "Only those that were personal to me." That seemed to satisfy her for the time being, but he knew it wouldn't be long before she questioned that, too.

  Picking up the half-finished martini, he nodded toward the Bloody Mary that by now was watered down to a sickly pink. "Take a few sips. It'll help calm you."

  Her head bounced up. "Who said I need calming?"

  She looked ready to bite his head off and spit it back at him, but she accepted his advice anyway, took a couple of long draughts then locked eyes with him before she started again.

  "Okay, I am more than a little upset. My privacy has been invaded. On top of that, you've given me reason to be more than a little concerned about my personal safety. Following your line of reasoning, that means those people, whoever they are, probably also know about Kevin's call, and that he's due out of prison soon."

  He laid a hand over hers in a friendly gesture, thought better of it and removed it quickly before he sent a mixed message. No sense co
nfusing things this early.

  With what he hoped was a comforting smile, he proceeded to get them back to the reason they were here. "Now that everything's out in the open, how about we at least test the salad before the food arrives. We both have to eat regardless of how unpleasant the topic of conversation has been so far."

  The smile she gave him was tight, but she took his suggestion and stabbed a wedge of lettuce. He did the same and they ate in silence for a few minutes, finishing off their drinks along with a respectable portion of their salads.

  Their steaks arrived, and the need for food overtook their need for more conversation, unpleasant or otherwise. The second round of drinks followed the food and Nick was beginning to relax just being with her, when a louder than ordinary clink of her fork against the china plate forced him to look up.

  "Do you really think I might be in danger?" she asked, an edge of fear in her voice.

  He could only shrug. What else could he do? Tell her that she was really only in danger from him?

  She seemed to accept his noncommittal, nonverbal reply and cut a bite-size piece of steak. He watched as she slipped the fork into her mouth and fought the image of what he'd rather see her perfect mouth wrapped around. He was beginning to think asking her out was a huge mistake.

  "You still haven't answered my question about why you came to Barnaby's last night," she said.

  Her look of confusion almost made him feel guilty about what he planned to do. A part of him wished he had no ulterior motive for being here with her; that this was nothing more than an ordinary Saturday night dinner date and he was with her simply for the pleasure of her company.

  Abruptly, she placed her knife and fork across her plate, pushed it aside, dabbed at her lips with the linen napkin, then sat back and watched him while he continued to eat. He hadn't been kidding her earlier. He was as famished as she was. In more ways than one.

  "Did you really look me up to see if you could sell me some home security?"

  "Would you believe me if I said I wanted to meet you so I could ask you out?"

  "Not in a New York second."

  "How about I really just wanted to meet you?"

  "How about you tell me why?"

  "Would you believe that ever since I saw that crop of red curls seven years ago, I've often wondered if it was real?"

  "The hair or the curls?"

  "Both, I guess."

  "I'm not buying that excuse for a minute either, but I like it much better than the alternative."

  "Does that mean I can have dessert later?"

  She lowered her eyes just enough to add seductive to the already sultry mix of vibes he imagined she was sending his way.

  "Depends on what you order."

  There was no mistaking the play on words. Or how those words and that look were playing on his libido. He yanked himself out of his sexual fantasy and drained the last of his drink. He was enjoying this game very much. Maybe too much.

  "I'm up for anything that pleases you." If that didn't put his intentions on the line, he couldn't think of anything better that would.

  She seemed at a loss for words and he figured he'd one-upped her at last. Smiling, she sat back and laced her fingers at her waist.

  "I think I'll let you order what you want. I'm only good for a taste tonight, anyway." She bit down on her bottom lip and rolled it back and forth suggestively. "But I will take a rain check, if you're offering one."

  Was he ever. Of course, he had to keep in mind his real objective with Miss Carrot-top was to have her panting after him, with him enjoying the rewards of victory. Then later, being able to throw her desire for him in Kevin's face when the slimy bastard finally got caught again. Any other outcome between him and Arabella Quinn was out of the question and he couldn't remind himself of that often enough.

  After the dessert arrived, he suffered through her taunts that chiffon pie was too wimpy for real men and silently promised himself that when the time came he would make her pay for questioning his virility--even playfully.

  Until then, he'd content himself with the knowledge that she was turned on by him. And although he couldn't deny the reverse was true as well, he held on to confidence in his ability to stay the course.

  This would all be over in a couple of weeks, anyway.

  * * * *

  In the parking lot, Nick held Bella's car door open and waited until she started the engine before he stepped back. She closed the door and lowered the window. "There is something I'm curious about."

  "Oh? And what's that?"

  "Why you aren't a cop anymore."

  "That's easy," he said, holding up his right hand and wriggling his fingers. None of them moved easily, but his index finger barely moved at all.

  She didn't say anything, but waited for some further explanation.

  "I had my hand pretty much torn apart during a shoot-out. Tore up most of the tendons in my hand and the nerves in my fingers. You're not much good in Vice without use of your trigger finger. Then after six months, I found out I wasn't much use inside at a desk either."

  "So you decided to go into home security?"

  "Actually, it was kind of decided for me. My partner, Vince, had been in the Private Detective business since his retirement from the Department a couple of years before. His business partner died, he knew I was unhappy and looking for something else, so he made me an offer I couldn't refuse." He leaned close. "Anything else you're curious about?"

  There were lots of things she was curious about, but she wasn't about to admit any of them to him. Not yet, anyway. "No. I guess that pretty much does it."

  He stepped back, then moved forward again, and leaning closer to the window, reminded her she had agreed to meet him for breakfast in the morning.

  As if she could forget. "Nine. At Johnny's."

  "Sure you don't want me to pick you up?"

  "I'm sure."

  She was sure that to let him inside her home would be a bad idea. He had already had an effect on her that was disturbing. Teasing him in public was one thing, but being called on it in private was something she didn't want to risk.

  He touched a finger to his forehead and saluted her. "Until tomorrow."

  She gave him a quick wave, rolled up the window and drove away, fragments of what he had told her about the money Kevin was suspected of stealing, tumbling around in her brain.

  She found the idea of Kevin's corruption more than a little disconcerting even after all these years. While his unfaithfulness had come as a blow to her, and the fact that he'd been high on drugs when the accident happened had revealed a side of him she hadn't known about, she found it difficult, even now, to accept that he had fooled her so completely the entire time they'd been together.

  She'd been ready to commit the rest of her life to Kevin Pitre, for God's sake. How could she have been so blind to his faults? To what he was?

  There were no ready answers. Maybe there never would be. Maybe the most she could hope for was if Kevin was guilty of what Nick had alleged, it would all come to light soon. Kevin would pay for his misdeeds again, and Nick would know for certain that she had had nothing whatsoever to do with Kevin's crime.

  Confident that with Nick on her side everything would turn out okay, she turned her thoughts to ones like those she'd had the night before when she drove away from Barnaby's. She thought, not about Nick Fuller, the ex-cop, but about Nick Fuller, the man. About how charming, how easy to talk to, how dangerously good-looking he was.

  She also thought about how he'd taken it upon himself to watch out for her. She took in a quick breath. If he really was so concerned about her, why did he let her go home alone tonight? He didn't seem the type to take no for an answer when the alternative was readily available.

  As if already certain of the answer, her gaze automatically shifted to the side-view mirror. Two headlights, far enough behind so she couldn't see the car, shone hazily through the humid heat of a record-breaking September night. A smile settled on her li
ps as a ripple of excitement fluttered in her chest. Just as she suspected. Once a cop, always a cop.

  Except, she reminded herself, he was one of the good ones. It was comforting to have such a thought ride with her all the way home. By the time she pulled in her drive, she was calmer than she'd been all day and looking forward to a good night's sleep.

  Inside the house, she kicked off the heels she wasn't accustomed to wearing, tossed her purse on her favorite chair, then headed to the kitchen. She was on her way to the fridge to get some ice water when she saw the light blinking on the answering machine.

  She checked her caller ID and her mother's number flashed. She hit the PLAY button on the machine and listened to her sister Franny's frantic plea for Bella to call immediately when she got in, no matter what the hour.

  With trembling fingers, Bella punched in her mother's phone number and barely had time to put the receiver to her ear before her sister answered. "I had to take Mom to the hospital this evening, Bella."

  "What's wrong now?" In the past month, her mother had been to the hospital twice with pains.

  "They think she might need an operation."

  "An operation? For what? What happened?"

  "Pains in the chest again, but this time they think they found something. They're pretty sure she has a blockage, and if they're right, it could mean an operation."

  Bella hooked her foot under a chair and scooted it over so she could sit down. This wasn't good.

  "Is she in the hospital now?"

  "Yes. I just came home to get a few of her personal things and wait for your call."

  "Why didn't you call me on my cell phone?"

  "I tried, but you had the phone set to take messages."

  Guiltily, Bella remembered she'd turned off the phone when she entered the restaurant.

  "I'll meet you at the hospital. What's Mom's room number?"

  "Hold on," Franny cautioned. "There's no need for you to rush over. I'll stay with her tonight. They've given her a sedative and she was pretty much out of it when I left. She'll probably sleep all night. I just wanted you to know, in case..." She heard the fear in Franny's voice and rushed to assure her that their mother would be fine.