Force of Attraction (12 page)

Cole wiped a tear from her chin, surprised to find it there. She wasn't a crier. She never cried. So whatever was leaking out of her didn't have her permission. And neither was she a quitter. She'd chosen to do this. She was just going to have to find a way. But how?

She thought about the weeks ahead, being forced to be constantly in Scott's company.
Look but don't touch
was already stretching her nerves to the limit. Even her anger was taking more and more effort to keep up.

She was tired of fighting. Tired of being on guard. This wasn't going to work if she didn't figure out a way to get past this constant aching need for him.

Hugo nudged his big head under her hand. She turned toward him. Blacker than the darkness, only his eyes gave away his presence.

“Love you, too.” But sometimes, like tonight, it wasn't enough.

 

CHAPTER NINE

“That's it. This is impossible. I can't do this anymore.”

Cole wheeled away from the table of people who had been coaching Scott and her on their new undercover roles for the past three days.

Scott reached out and grabbed her wrist as she passed his chair. “Wait up, Nikki.”

Cole swung around on him. “My name's Noel. Remember? Noel Jenkins. God! Even you. Total fail.” She jerked her arm free and stalked away.

Her head ached and her chest felt too tight. If she didn't get away from Scott and the two DEA agents who had been sent from Texas to prep them for going undercover she would explode from shame and anger.

Head down, she hurled herself forward out the doors of the Harmonie Kennel classroom complex and into the late afternoon where the sky was turning golden along the rim of the Shenandoah Mountains to the west.

Three days. Three days of prep and she couldn't even remember her own alias:
Noel Jenkins.

They had said choose something close to her real name because it would be easier to remember.

They said think of herself as being in a play. Real time, live, but not only on a stage.

They said be spontaneous, the character was hers to create. Elementary school children playacted every day. It came naturally to most people. Not to her.

“Unnatural acts. That's what they should call this mission.”

Cole wiped the sweat trickling down her forehead with the heel of her hand. It wasn't as if she wasn't giving it everything. It was all she thought about when she wasn't in the ring working Hugo. But this was like trying to learn Greek from a Dutchman.

She was too self-conscious to let go and “inhabit the role” as her high school drama teacher would have said. Maybe if she'd been dealing with total strangers she could have pulled it off. But she was also dealing with Scott.

Sam Lott
not Scott Lucca.
Noel Jenkins
not Nicole Jamieson. Not hard to remember. Except that keeping her volatile feelings under wraps around Scott was keeping her from being able to pretend anything else when he was being Sam.

If one more person said, “Loosen up and show us how Noel feels about Sam,” she was going to lose it. No, make that, had lost it. Unprofessional or not, she was done.

As if that wasn't bad enough, there was a worse disaster looking to spoil their plans. Hugo had decided to balk at the Weave Poles obstacle.

The ability to weave in and out of a set of poles spaced fourteen inches apart usually took a dog weeks to learn. Like a skier learning the zigzag of a slalom race, speed and close maneuvering were the key. But Hugo didn't like the idea of moving back and forth. After three weaves, he was done. Trouble was, there were always ten to twelve poles in the competition. And so that was that. Deal off.

She could not do this. Absolutely could not. That's what she was going to tell them. But first she needed to get away from here to cool off.

Cole glanced around, surprised to find herself in the parking lot near the truck she had been loaned by the DEA. First law of undercover, separate yourself from your personal life. She reached for her keys but they weren't in her pocket.

“Damn!” She kicked the front tire with her boot.

“That's a lot of temper.”

Cole looked up, prepared to do battle with Scott.

“Don't snarl at me, little lady. I'm just the messenger.” It was DEA agent Jeff Richards, one of their pair of tutors. He must have followed her.

She bit back the angry words that had rushed to the tip of her tongue. She'd made enough of a fool of herself. She stiffened into a professional pose. “Sorry, sir.”

“No need to be professional out here. I don't see any cops, do you?”

Cole wilted. Right. She was supposed to be playing at
not
being a cop. Epic fail.

Richards leaned against the front fender of her truck and pulled out a cigar. “I'm not supposed to have this. My wife thinks I'm into vaping these days. But once in a while, when I'm away from home, I cheat. It's okay because she knows I do it, but we pretend she doesn't so I can have my guilty pleasure.”

He stacked one heavy scarred cowboy boot over the other as he reached for a lighter. He was tall and broad. With his shirtsleeves pushed up to reveal burly forearms bristling with the same red-gold hair that sprouted in a buzz cut from his scalp, he looked more like a day laborer than a government agent. That didn't explain why he was out here.

Cole bit the inside of her lip to control her emotions as she waited for him to finish lighting his cigar. She expected him to lay into her about her performance. She had it coming. He might even be about to fire her. Not that she'd give him the chance. She was going to quit.

He exhaled a perfect doughnut ring of smoke before he spoke. “You know what your problem is?”

“I have a problem? How about that. I had no idea.” Okay, she couldn't control the snark.

He chuckled. “I'm going to tell you, anyway. The trouble is you see Scott when you're supposed to be dealing with Sam.”

Cole opened her mouth to shut him down but his words echoed in her head.
You're supposed to be dealing with Sam
.

“You got to buy into the story about Noel and Sam. They're in love. Hot sweaty heat for each other. Can't keep their hands off each other. That's why he's following her around like a puppy on a leash. The man's got it bad. You're in charge, pretty lady. So cowgirl up.”

She stared at him, a dozen thoughts whipping through her mind. But in the end, there was only one. “I don't know how.”

“That's because you've been trying to reason your way to Noel. A good cover is all about feeling. That means knowing deep inside you that Noel's actually a part of you.”

Cole looked down and to the right as something flickered to life in the back of her mind. Part of me. That was the trouble. Nothing felt like part of her anymore, except the ache of being in the same room as Scott and doing nothing about it.

Richards blew out another ring and watched it float away. “You've just graduated vet school and are waiting to see if you passed your exams so you can get a license to practice. Meanwhile you've decided to try your hand in ring competition.”

She nodded. “That's my cover story.”

“Doesn't that strike you as atypical behavior? Here you are an animal doc, spent all those years on schooling, but suddenly you're just kicking back and doing nothing. Why would you do that?”

“Because she's—I'm dog tired of school. I've sacrificed everything for so long, worked so hard. I just want to have a little fun.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. I suspect there's a whole other personality inside Noel Jenkins that hasn't been let loose in a while. Probably even a wild streak. Otherwise, how could you explain Sam's interest?”

Cole blushed as he winked at her.

“He's a hellion, that Sam. Yet, he's sniffing at your heels. You got something that man wants bad, sweetheart. Figure out what it is, and you'll do just fine.”

He pushed off her vehicle and bent to carefully break off the ash of his cigar against the road gravel. When he was satisfied the tobacco was out, he stuck the remainder of the cigar in his pocket. “I don't have to smoke it all to enjoy the experience. This way, I save a bit of fun for later.”

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out several keys. When he had unhooked one, he looked her up and down, from her tee to her jeans to her patrol boots. “You got a license to ride?”

Cole gazed in amazement at the motorcycle key he held out to her. “If I say I know how to ride?”

He grinned. “Close enough.” But as she reached for the key he snatched it back. “Only one rule. Don't scuff the chrome.” He pointed out his motorcycle before handing her the key. “Helmet's hanging on the back and there's a jacket in the saddlebag. Be back before dark.”

He didn't even look back once to see what she was going to do.

Cole laughed when she had swung a leg over Agent Richards's bike. It was big, a little bigger than anything she had driven before. It had been years since she even straddled a motorcycle. When they were married, Scott seldom let her drive his bike. Most often she was the unhappy and totally intimidated chick on the back.

“But not Noel,” she whispered under her breath. And her boyfriend Sam would be cool with her borrowing his bike.

She tightened the strap of her helmet and zipped up the too-large leather jacket she'd pulled from the saddle back. Finally, she turned the key in the ignition. The engine thrummed to life between her legs. Yes! Suddenly, she felt the possibility of having fun. The worries and concerns of Nicole Jamieson might even take a backseat for a while. She was Noel Jenkins, and Noel was a bit of a badass.

Harmonie Kennels was located in the hills of Shenandoah National Park. Traffic was sparse on the back roads that led in and out of the compound. Even so, concentration was in order. Once out on the empty two-lane blacktop, Noel let out the throttle a little more.

Riding a bike was about confidence. Noel had confidence for days. Noel rode with Sam regularly. They loved the open road and being together.

Sam was ex-military and now manager of a motorcycle shop in New Jersey. They'd met six months ago at a mutual friend's wedding in Baltimore. She had learned to ride to be with him. In turn, he was supporting her desire to compete in Agility competitions. They share a love of dogs, and the wicked urge to keep their freedom. Oh, and a wild desire for one another that ran so hot that people sometimes felt closed out in their company.

Cole's body quivered under the vibrations of the engine locked between her thighs. Yes, Sam would be hot and heavy and thumping just like this. When she got home to him.

A small smile began.

After that, Noel stopped thinking and just concentrated on the ride as the gorgeous scenery of Virginia flew past her in a hundred shades of forest green and late-afternoon blue-gold sky.

*   *   *

Scott began to worry when Cole didn't show up for dinner. No one seemed to know where she was. No one but he seemed particularly worried. She'd been very angry when she ran out on the meeting. He checked his watch. No, his empty wrist. He hadn't been able to find his watch this morning. He pulled out his cell phone to get the time.

Cole had been gone four hours. She hadn't taken Hugo or her cruiser. How far could she have gone on foot?

For the fourth time in an hour he stepped out onto the porch of the bunkhouse that he and Cole now shared. It was almost dark, the sky streaked by deep purple fingers that seemed to point to where stars twinkled into view. That air was still and warm. Mosquito weather.

Hugo padded out onto the porch beside him and stared off into the distance.

Scott looked down. At least they had come to some sort of truce in the past couple of days. “Where the hell is your owner?”

He was answered by a brusque bark that sounded remarkably like a doggy imitation of his own gruff tone.

Izzy lifted her head from her sprawl on the porch. The trio had formed an uneasy truce when Cole hadn't returned in time to feed Hugo.

Irritation whipped through Scott. If this was her way of forcing him to deal with her K-9 at least she could have warned him.

He glanced at his wrist. “Where the hell is my watch?”

Hugo looked up at Scott then turned and went inside. Great. Even Cole's dog was giving him the cold shoulder.

Scott rubbed his brow. It wasn't like Cole to be irresponsible. It wasn't like her to disappear. It wasn't like— Oh, hell.

Yardley was right. He didn't know what Cole was like two years down the road. She must have changed. Everyone changed. She was a seasoned law officer. Still, he didn't like to think of her wandering around in the dark. She could have gotten turned around, lost. Or, she could be sitting in a roadside café somewhere sulking.

That thought soured his bad mood even more. If she was waiting for him to turn himself inside out and go chasing after her, she would be waiting until hell froze over.

Scott turned back toward the door as the distant rumble of a motorcycle reverberated through the hills. For a moment every muscle in his body tensed as he listened intently. This wasn't a Harley. It was the rumbling purr of a well-muffled engine. Sighing, he opened the door. “Izzy.
Geh rein.
”

Izzy climbed to her feet and shuffled through the door.

When the Lab was inside, Hugo emerged at a trot. “
Nein,
Hugo
. Geh rein
.”

Ignoring him, Hugo stood on the porch a moment longer listening, Scott supposed, to the motorcycle. Irritated, he repeated his command more sharply. “Hugo.
Geh rein
.”

Hugo turned his big head in Scott's direction. That's when Scott noticed he held something in his mouth. “My watch.”

Hugo put it down. Then with a huff that sounded all too human, the Bouvier went back indoors.