Force of Attraction (5 page)

She saw reflected in his expanding pupils the exact moment he realized the effect his nearness was having on her.

Suddenly it wasn't two years later but the day before ever after. Oh shit. She was still mad-bad attracted to the man whose pulse raced under her fingertips.

Her hand clenched on his shirtfront and she lifted her face, lips parting in an invitation her brain hadn't given her body permission to make.

“Nikki?” He sounded as surprised as she felt.

Hugo's vocal vibrations, so low they could barely be heard, were warning her of the danger of this close encounter with a man too potent for his own good.

Cole lowered her lashes, trying to handle the yin-yang tug-of-war going on between her reason and her feelings. Yes, he was still as dangerous as ever. However, those enticing lips hovering just an inch above hers had also spoken the words that broke her heart. It was too good to be true to think they could just pick up—

Wait!
Something didn't add up here.

She stiff-armed his shoulder and with a flex of her hips launched herself away from the sink, and past him to safety.

She didn't go far before turning back. “Why me? Why did Agent Lattimore choose me?” Her voice sounded winded as she refused to look directly at him.

Scott jutted a hip against the counter and folded his arms, ignoring the fact that—
Shit.
She'd nearly kissed him. He dragged in a breath instead of giving in to the urge to drag her back in against him and finish what she'd started. “You're experienced with dog competitions.”

“That was a long time ago. Who recommended me to him?”

“I did.” He could see the idea didn't please her, though it didn't show anywhere except in the tiny jiggle of her left foot.

“Why me?”

He knew what she meant. She wanted to know why he wanted to work with her. He wanted
any
reason to be near her again. That truth would blow this operation all to hell. He opted for a lesser truth. “Let's just say this operation is more important than the odds against us being a successful U/C team.”

“What, exactly, do they want us to do?”

“Follow a lead the DEA has developed that points to the dog-competition circuit as a major means of drug smuggling. We're to get in close and gather more evidence.”

She looked over at Hugo, who stood alert to every word they spoke. “We don't have time to qualify for any kind of serious competition. That would take months.”

“DEA will see to it that you have the credentials you need to make the cut.”

“Why not just hang out at the shows or use drug dogs to search behind the scenes until you turn up something?”

“We have a suspect and don't want to spook her.”

“Her?” She looked at him, finally. “Working the female-suspect angle is more in your line of undercover work, isn't it?”

Scott ignored the barb. “This is how it will go down. We pose as a couple. You'll compete. That'll give me cover to nose around with my K-9 partner without suspicion.”

“You work K-9 drug detail for DEA?” The surprise in her voice said it all. “Since when?”

“A year. Her name's Izzy. A chocolate Lab.” He smiled. “You'll like her, Nikki.”

“Stop calling me that. Everyone calls me Cole.”

He couldn't stop himself. “Your husband called you Nikki.”

“License revoked. And don't change the subject.” She launched herself toward him. “What about your SWAT and undercover work? The boys' club where females are good only for recreation? You lived for it. Traded us for it.”

Her sudden blast of anger caught him off guard. “That's not what I wanted.”

She stopped right before him. “Oh right. Then why are you on record in our divorce proceeding? I quote, ‘Marriage? Screw that. There're too many women to fuck and there's only one lifetime.'”

His eyes flashed anger for the first time. “That was taken down by the duty officer the night I was arrested. I was drunk as a skunk, and I'd been working undercover in a biker bar. I was still in character.”

“I know what you were doing. I was there. Remember?”

Guilt knifed through Scott's gut. He remembered. Would never forget it.

“You weren't supposed to…” He groped for a better beginning. He wanted to explain how jacked-up miserable he had been juggling two lives and knowing he was losing on both ends. He wanted her to know that after she left him he'd staggered under so much regret he could barely function. So many things to say, to admit, to account for.

He heaved his shoulders. “Things change. If you'd let me explain—”

“Don't even go there.” Her eyes, only two feet from his, were throwing off sparks that should have burned him to the ground. “Bastard. Rat
bastard.
For you to come here, after all this time and—and—”

The catch in her throat so appalled her that Cole did an about-face. “Get out.”

“Right.”

Cole waited until she heard the front door close. Then she released Hugo, who bolted past her.

She followed and watched as her partner sniffed every spot where Scott had stood or touched. He was memorizing the scent of the man who had upset her. Too bad she couldn't explain to her partner all the complex reasons why. Especially, the long-absent feelings of familiarity coursing through her the entire time Scott had been here.

When Hugo was done, he came back to her and leaped up to place his front paws square in her chest. She wasn't a small person but Hugo didn't have any trouble planting a big slurpy kiss on her face. His way of saying,
I got your back.

“I love you, too.” She leaned her head against his and hugged him tight.

*   *   *

Working nights was not something her body had ever completely adjusted to. When Cole woke up late in the afternoon, her head felt stuffed with cotton balls and her head throbbed. And then she remembered. She'd fallen asleep with tears staining her face.

She was still angry. The emotion beat faintly behind her gritty eyes. But on another level, she felt calm. The confrontation she had longed for and dreaded for two years was behind her. There was just one teeny-weeny little problem left.

She should just admit the hard pathetic truth.

I still have feelings for Scott.

She also hated Scott's guts. And after what he'd done, hate still topped love.

Cole let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding, and scooted off her bed.

She made coffee and toast then brought the items to her dining room table where she sat and looked as objectively as possible at the pictures Lattimore had sent her.

Someone needed to catch the assholes who had done this. She'd been asked to be part of that. But what about Scott? How much was seeing him again going to cost her?

She opened her computer and ran him through the law-enforcement background-check system via her police department. He hadn't remarried. Lived in an apartment in a less than desirable part of D.C. After nearly a yearlong gap in his work record he was now listed as a DEA agent, SWAT K-9 division. No Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or other social network accounts under his name. No record of that missed year, either.

To learn more personal details, for instance if he had a girlfriend, she would have to reach out to her personal connections. However, law enforcement became an unbelievably small, gossipy world when an officer went snooping about a colleague. She couldn't go further without the risk that Scott would learn about it. Not knowing was better than him discovering she was checking on him.

Instead, she called Agent Lattimore, just to confirm that she was still eligible to be considered for the task force job. That would be a yes, he told her.

Cole sat and nibbled her thumbnail.

Did she dare grab this opportunity the DEA was offering to prove herself? Even if it meant agreeing to spend a few weeks in close quarters with the one man she didn't know how to handle, didn't trust, and was pretty sure she still hated?

Tall order, in the name of the law.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

“You said no, right? Right?”

Cole shrugged off her sister Becca's question. “It's an opportunity not many local law enforcement officers get.”

“It's an opportunity to find yourself in more danger than necessary.” Becca sat back as their waitress set grilled chicken salads down before them.

Cole noticed the waitress eyeing her nervously as she put her plate down. Some civilians welcomed a police presence while for others the mere presence of a uniform and all that went with it was seen as some sort of hostile provocation.

Cole smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” The waitress's gaze skittered away. Maybe she'd been on the wrong end of an encounter with law enforcement recently.

Cole gave up and picked up her fork. It was her lunch hour. She had exactly fifty minutes left to explain to her sister the big decision she was about to make.

“So here's the thing. If I did accept the task force position, the assignment may take me out of town from time to time.”

Becca gasped. “You're going undercover!”

“Loud, maybe?”

“Right.” Becca's voice dropped to a whisper as she glanced around the busy restaurant. “Are you going undercover?”

“I can't give you details. Just don't say anything to Mom and Dad until it's a done deal, okay? Then I'll tell them.”

Becca dipped a forkful of salad into the side dish of dressing. “Why do you need to do this? You're doing great with the county police department. You made the K-9 in record time. You don't need to do anything else. You're set.”

Cole leaned forward. “That's just it. I want to do something more, Becca. Something important and exciting. Use my skill set where it's most needed. You've got a husband and a career. You're set.”

Becca grinned. “And we're expanding the franchise.”

“The vet's office— Oh!” Cole's expression widened into a gape as Becca patted her tummy. “You're pregnant? I'm going to be an aunt!”

The two sisters jumped up and hugged each other, all girly squeals of joy.

“You're the first to know.” Becca's smile couldn't stretch any wider. “I had to check on the results of some extra tests this morning before I told the folks.”

Cole's smile dissolved as she sat back down. “Why extra tests?”

Becca made a sad face. “I'm thirty. It's a bit late for a first pregnancy, since we've been trying for three years. But everything's fine.”

Cole searched her sister's face. “You would tell me?”

Becca nodded. “You first. Just like always.”

Cole felt the tightness in her chest ebb as they tucked into their salads. Though three and a half years apart in age, they were closer than most sisters. Really, BFFs. Their attitudes and tastes were so similar that, more often than not, they could finish each other's sentences and predict what the other would order for a meal. And, they always told each other everything—no matter how personal—eventually.

Cole ducked her head on that final thought. She had decided to wait until the end of their meal to bring up the matter of Scott Lucca.

Meanwhile, there were dozens of other catch-up topics to discuss since their last sisters' lunch four weeks ago. For instance, the new assistant in Becca's office whom she had to fire because she kept “borrowing” boarded pets.

“The first weekend she took a cockatiel because, she said, birds need more attention than dogs. I told her never to do that again. But the following weekend she takes home a pet ferret, and loses it. I mean, really? So there I am, on my hands and knees in her apartment, searching. Turned out the little guy had climbed in under her dishwasher. Probably to get away from her. I finally lured him out with a thawed mouse. I was so done with her.”

Cole laughed. “The gla-
mouse
-rous life of a vet.”

“Speaking of gla-
amorous
lives, tell me you're finally seeing someone. Anyone?”

Cole met her sister's mischievous expression with a sour one.

“Harper knows this guy. Don't make that face. He's new in the area, a podiatrist in Harper's clinic. A real looker.”

“I don't need a man to make my life complete, Becca. I'm not you.”

“Ouch, and unnecessary.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“It's been two years, Cole. When do you move on? If you need a challenge, go back to school. With your five years of law enforcement experience, you could get into law school like that.” A snap of her fingers accompanied the thought.

“I doubt it. There's the little thing called the LCAT.”

“Which you passed once.”

“It's been years since I cracked a textbook.”

“Okay, not so easy—but once you graduated, you could do something important. Instead of chasing the bad guys, you could make certain they went to prison. That's where your talents are needed, where you can make the biggest impact. D.A. Jameson. Sounds good, doesn't it? Any Tom, Dick, or Jane with a badge and a gun can arrest perps.”

“Suspects. We call them suspects. You watch too much TV.”

“You know what I mean. You told Mom and Dad you didn't intend to stay in law enforcement, you just needed a breather after college.”

Cole sighed. She had told them what they could handle at the time. “After I'd worked summers for the sheriff's department between college semesters they should have guessed I was interested in law enforcement.”

“They hoped you'd be interested in law without the en
force
ment part.” Becca pointed the tines of her fork in the general direction of her sister's weapon.

Cole rolled her eyes. “This is one point that we won't agree on,
okay
? I love being a cop. Hugo and I do important work every day. We help people and protect people. Sure, we chase the occasional bad guy. But a month ago, we helped locate an Alzheimer's patient who'd gotten away from her caregiver. We make a difference. Now we're being asked to step up to something even more important.”