Chapter 9
“Aunt Becky, really, it was okay.” Zane had just dropped her off five hours ago, at three in the morning, but Willow was wide awake and exhilarated. She crumpled a paper napkin and made an easy shot into the kitchen waste can. Two points, easy. “Zane’s Lexi Steele’s brother and?—”
“But you didn’t know him.” Becky set a plate on the breakfast bar with scrambled eggs, sausage links, and toast which smelled so good Willow’s mouth watered. She climbed onto a barstool and swiveled on it as she lost a little steam under her aunt’s gaze.
Becky put her hand on one of her portly hips. “Staying out until three a.m. with any man the first day you meet him isn’t safe.”
If she truly had an idea of exactly what Willow and Zane had been doing until two-thirty in the morning—Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to know how her aunt would react. No, make that Willow definitely didn’t want to know.
“Well, now I’ve met and had dinner with Zane. And we spent a lot of time talking and getting to know one another.” Well, some of the time. Willow folded her arms on the breakfast bar. “And I know he’s a good guy.”
Becky sighed and adjusted the clip at the back of her silver-shot blonde hair. “Secret Service, right? That’s what Stacy said.” A sad look settled on Becky’s features like they always did when she mentioned her daughter.
Willow swallowed back the desire to tell Becky that Stacy had died for her country. Everyone thought it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, a random act of violence. It was so unfair that no one outside of whatever agency Stacy worked for could know the truth.
Becky straightened and Willow met her aunt’s hazel eyes. “You’ve been an angel to stay with us these past few months and helping out like you have with your job at Macy’s.” Becky reached up and put her hand over Willow’s. “But you have a life to get back to.”
“I”m enjoying being here with you, two,” Willow said and meant it.
Becky squeezed her hand. “For the Lord’s sake, child, you’ve done everything but defend your dissertation to get your doctorate. You keep putting it off to stay with us. You need to go back to NYU, do your thing, and start applying for a position doing what you’re so good at. Helping people.”
Becky drew her hand away and her smile showed she was proud, sad, and frustrated with Willow. “Just imagine the lives you’ll be touching. The positive impact you can make on so many futures.”
“I want to be here for you right now.” Willow glanced around the large, eclectic living area that she could see from the breakfast bar.
A place that would never have the grandchildren running around that Stacy and her fiancé would have had. Stacy and Barry had planned to start a family—she was going to be quitting her job as “an interpreter” to start her new life with her future husband.
Now that future was gone. No grandchildren would be terrorizing this house or their grandparents’ cranky poodle.
Willow met her aunt’s eyes. “Would you rather I leave?”
“Lord knows I love having you here.” Becky’s eyes grew a little watery and she busied herself wiping down the kitchen counters. “But you’re putting your life on hold when you need to be living it.”
“Right now, I’m where I need to be.” Willow picked up her fork, but her hand shook for some strange reason. “I need to start preparing again to defend my dissertation anyway, and I can get busy on that in the mornings while I work in the cosmetics department in the afternoons.”
“Then promise me this.” Becky carefully folded the cloth she’d been wiping the counters with and set it beside the stainless-steel sink. “After your daily morning run, you will go to the library every weekday morning with your laptop and do whatever polishing up you need to on that big paper, the dissertation. And schedule a date to go to New York City and be done with it.” Becky’s gaze was firm, determined. “No more keeping me company in the mornings before you go to work. I’m fine.”
Willow gave her aunt a faint smile. “Can you and I still have Saturdays together as our day?”
“Until it’s time for you to move on.” Becky looked so much younger when she smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” Willow looked at her plate and back to her aunt. “How about breakfast? Can we still chat over your wonderful dishes?”
“Of course.” Becky reached up and stroked Willow’s hair over her shoulder before letting her hand drop away. “I want you to promise me one more thing.”
Willow tilted her head to the side. “What’s that?”
Becky gave Willow “the eye” that said she wasn’t fooling around. So many times, that look had scared the crap out of Willow and Stacy when they were kids. Willow had to fight the urge to squirm on the barstool.
“No more picking up strange men in the Common,” Becky said in a firm tone.
Willow smiled as she thought of Zane, who’d actually never left her thoughts at all. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
* * *
Zane draggedhis hand over his jaw. He hadn’t managed to get much sleep after he’d dropped off Willow and he’d forgotten to shave this morning. One glance at the glass wall of his office and seeing his reflection told him he looked like shit.
He couldn’t get images of her off his mind. Willow looking fresh and pretty while she sat on a park bench in the Common eating ice cream; then Supermodel-stunning at the restaurant; and best of all how she looked after she’d just been taken. Her features flushed, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses, her hair messy on his pillow, and looking at him with pleasure and trust.
Trust. Zack looked out through the glass wall and toward the Command Center with its rush of activity with agents working on cases. The hundreds of monitors and screens gave the whole floor a blue glow. Goddamnit, Willow was too trusting, and it was going to get her into trouble.
What are you going to do about it, Steele?
Zane rubbed his temples with his fingers. That was a question he wasn’t ready to answer even though that answer hovered at the edge of his mind.
Why’d he agree to have lunch with Willow today?
Because she deserves more than a one-night stand.
And because he had to see her again. Her smile, the honesty in her clear blue eyes, the fact she said whatever was on her mind, and her unpretentious beauty—damn.
Last night, before he’d dropped her off at her aunt and uncle’s home, they’d agreed to take it a little slower.
Now he was regretting that agreement like hell.
“Knock knock.”
Zane looked up to see Georgina Rizzo at his door. The agent showed every bit of her Italian ancestry in her striking looks. Those looks had gotten her a long way undercover. She was not only beautiful but a damned fine agent.
“Are you all right, Steele?” Rizzo wore what looked like an incredibly expensive red silk blouse along with a tailored black skirt that came to mid-thigh. Her long dark hair hung in waves around her shoulders, and she wore large hoop earrings that were obvious pure gold. She was the poster girl for the perfect Italian mafia girlfriend.
She tossed her hair back in a way that was sure to grab a man’s attention. “Just wanted to stop by and give you a report before I headed back out into the jungle.”
“Everything okay?” Zane pointed to a chair in front of his desk.
Rizzo gracefully sat in the chair, crossed her legs at her knees, and casually draped her arms on the armrests. “At least Albano Petrelli is a gorgeous bastard of a Mafioso Capo Bastone.”
“So, you’re in good with the underboss?” Zane reclined in his own chair. He didn’t have to worry about Rizzo being followed—she was too good of an agent for that.
“Of course.” Georgina held out her hand and examined her red nails before putting her hand down and giving Zane an amused look. “Albano didn’t know what hit him once I got a hold of him.”
“What’s up with the arms deal?” Zane said.
“The arms the Petrellis are selling?” Rizzo said. “They’re Barrett 82A1 .50 cal. armor-piercing.”
High-capacity semi-auto rifles. Shit. Zane rubbed his temples again. “Okay, we’ve got specs on the shipment. But I still don’t have time, location, and who they’re selling weapons to.”
“Oh, but I do,” Rizzo said with a wicked smile. “One a.m. Tuesday morning at the Klein warehouse.” She got to her feet. “Albano’s totally in lust with me so he doesn’t worry if I’m around when he’s talking business.” She frowned. “And get this. They’re selling the weapons to a terrorist faction led by a man named Hisham Nasri.”
“Fuck.” Zane ground his teeth. “Since when did the Italian mafia start trading arms with terrorists?”
Rizzo scowled “When the terrorists offered more cash than the Petrellis make pushing dope, they went for it.”
“I doubt any of the other families are going to be happy about this if they find out.”
“We might just have to leak that info,” Rizzo said.
Zane nodded then studied Rizzo for a moment as he thought of what she had to do to get this intel. “Damn, I hate putting female agents in this kind of position.”
“But with male agents would be okay?” Rizzo rolled her eyes. “Friggin’ double standards with you men. Just like Nick with Lexi.”
Then Rizzo winked at Zane. “Like I said, though, Albano’s hot. I can handle him.” She shuddered. “It would be worse if I had to snort coke or if he shot me up with that drug, Lascivious, and tried to share me.”
“If we’re looking for a positive that would be it.” Zane rubbed his hand over his jaws again. “Excellent work, Rizzo. Just watch your back and your front.”
Georgina Rizzo gave Zane a sultry look as she put her hand on her hip. “Baby, you’re the only one for me,” she said in a way that would send most men to their knees. Then she laughed. “Gets Albano every time.”
Zane held back a groan. Georgina Rizzo was a close friend of his sister, Lexi, and that made it even harder to send her out in the field. Especially after Lexi’s best friend, Stacy, was murdered. He had to get his head back in professional mode and not personal.
“He thinks I’m out shopping.” She held up the red purse that matched her blouse and looked even more incredibly expensive than her clothing.
“Just wait until Wickstrom gets a load of my expense report for this purse and other clothes I had to buy before I got into Albano’s graces.” Rizzo opened the clasp of her purse. “Check this out.” She tilted her purse so Zane could get a good look and he shook his head at the enormous roll of hundred-dollar bills. “Baby, I love to shop. No hardship here.”
Dick Wickstrom was the ASAC, Assistant Special Agent in Charge, for the narcotics and weapons department, and a tightass if there ever was one.
Rizzo managed to make Zane smile at the same time he shook his head. “Get to shopping then. And be careful.”
“I’ll be in touch next time I have something to report.” She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Otherwise, I’ll be out shopping.”
By damned, they got what they needed. Now he just had to prepare teams of RED agents to come down on the warehouse to make the bust.
After having watched Georgina Rizzo walk out the door of his office it hit him like a hammer to the gut. Rizzo’s undercover assignment made him remember just how dangerous his occupation was. He withdrew his personal cell phone. He should call Willow and cancel their lunch date.
Then he remembered that of all things, Willow didn’t carry a phone. She’d said it was because she didn’t believe in them. He’d have to change that, too, so she’d have one for emergencies.
Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. The more he thought about her, the more possessive he felt.
Not a good path to head down, Steele.
If only he could get whatever it was in his chest to agree with him every time he thought of Willow.