ICE PRINCESS, page 6
"My minor in college. Although I never dreamed then I’d be using it to my own advantage."
Claudia braced her chin on the pedestal of her arm and smiled. "There’s a story in you, Kiki. Tell me about it."
Persona back in place, Kiki draped one long leg over the other. "Are you writing a book?"
Claudia laughed. "I might be. I’m a reporter and always love an interesting story. Come on, what’s yours?"
"I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you all if you tell me two things."
"And those are?"
Kiki pointed to Zach’s table. "Who is that gorgeous looking man?"
Claudia’s humor faded. "My husband."
"No, no. I know the dangerous looking one is yours." She touched Claudia’s forearm and widened her eyes. "Girl, I don’t know how you manage him so well. I meant the man with him. The little one."
She followed Kiki’s lustful gaze, then shrugged a shoulder. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Kiki must be nearsighted. "His last name is Hanson. He’s a captain in the Marine Corps. That’s about all I know." Besides the fact he’s a reckless driver.
Kiki fanned her fingers at the base of her throat. "Pity. If you find out more, do share."
"And the second thing you wanted to ask?"
A smile beamed, there was another touch to her forearm. "You’re beautiful. Your looks, your demeanor, your entire…aura. I must know how you do it."
Claudia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How did one act when one became an icon to a transvestite? Insult or compliment? Both were a matter of opinion. Kiki/Kurt certainly meant no harm.
She shrugged a shoulder. "Why not? It could be an interesting collaboration."
Kiki clapped her hands. "Oh, goody. How wonderful."
Leaning forward, Claudia rested her chin on the pedestal of her fist. "Now about that story, Kiki?"
* * *
Zach tried desperately to concentrate on Hanson’s ramblings. All he could think about was Claudia. He had never seen a pair of blue jeans look so good. And her feet…she had the best looking feet of any woman he’d ever seen, with each toenail painted to pink perfection. She knew how to wear a pair of sandals.
But neither compared to the ribbed bodysuit hugging her torso. A V-neck accentuated her main assets just enough to tease, not to display. Was she wearing a bra or not? Zach was obsessed with knowing. Neither a wrinkle nor a bulge anywhere divulged the information.
Her white-blonde hair was still slicked back in a twist, adding to the illusion of Grecian goddess. It was no wonder he couldn’t keep his hands off her. He used every excuse he could muster just for the brief opportunity it gave him to touch her. Her hand cupped in his at the house. The scant caress to the back as he guided her into the bar. And the kiss for luck? The only luck he wanted right now was any that could put her in his arms. Zach didn’t know how he was going to endure her constant presence.
He nearly laughed out loud. Here he had been worried about their propensity for flinging barbs at each other. Now, with each hour he spent at her side, his obsession grew. The more he saw, the more he loved her, wanted her. Hints of the real Claudia peeked through, but he wanted to see all of the woman behind the ice wall.
Had she been any other woman, Zach would have gathered her against him and kissed her until the ice melted. But Claudia? If he wanted her, body, heart and soul, it was going to have to be by her rules—whatever those were. Hell, he bet she didn’t even know.
What was the use? In five years he hadn’t been able to get beyond her venomous frostbite. The Las Vegas fiasco had even fueled her ire, made it more deadly. He never thought he’d ever have a chance as a love interest. Yet here she was…his wife…on his mind, under his skin, and stirring his libido.
And she didn’t even give a damn. She sat at the table engaged in an intimate conversation with a brassy bimbo who was a total stranger just minutes before. Why couldn’t she be that relaxed with him? What would she do if he coerced a few kisses from her once they got back to his house?
This time Zach did chuckle. She’d cut him to ribbons then leave the pieces for Phillip to sweep up. Not only would he lose any chance of ever being near her again, but he would also lose a best friend in the process.
"I see you brought your wife."
Zach swiveled his gaze to Hanson. Was the man finally done with his prelude of small talk?
"I didn’t have much of a choice. She’s really pissed about the accident this afternoon. I didn’t even take a chance on telling her I was going out by myself tonight. I knew she’d pitch a fit. So I brought her out for a drink instead."
Zach lifted his glass in mock toast to Claudia, then smiled when she arched that eyebrow of hers. "You got a wife?"
Hanson flicked the sweat off his glass. "She couldn’t handle military life. Our divorce was final a year ago this month. I understand she’s happily married to some accountant and has a baby."
His tone was dry, unemotional—an obvious sore point. Zach shifted the conversation back on track.
"Well, my wife’s starting to get a little testy, Hanson, so I’d appreciate it if you would get to the point."
Hanson sucked down a gulp. "She doesn’t know why I’m talking to you, does she? If this got out—"
"She thinks I’m talking to you about the accident."
The nervous Marine eased back into his seat, then leaned forward once more. "At least I provided you with a good excuse."
"I wouldn’t need any if you’d been watching where you were going this afternoon. Your point, Hanson?"
"Yes…well." He took another long draw on his beer.
Zach had never seen a man drink so fast.
Hanson set the glass aside and motioned to the waitress to bring another. "I don’t like to say. In fact, it just doesn’t seem plausible, but things are nagging at me and with a good man dead…" He shrugged a bony shoulder.
Zach longed to shake the information out of him. Why tiptoe around the subject? Why didn’t he just spit it out? He drummed his fingers on the table while he waited. From the corner of his eye he saw Vic Brownell walk into the bar. Someone else was getting impatient, too.
"You said Sunline had a lot of girlfriends—one in particular," he prompted.
"He had women calling him all the time. Coming around the office."
"And was Allison Sinclair one of those women?"
"With her husband right there?" He snorted. "No. But she didn’t have to. Sunline went to her."
"For computer instruction, from what I understand."
Hanson gave another snort. "For months on end? Just how stupid could a person be? There isn’t that much involved. You would think she would take notes or call him or at least use e-mail for her questions. But he was over there every night, and sometimes during the day."
Zach set his drink aside and leaned back to peruse the man more carefully. "What do you think happened?"
Hanson crooked his finger again for the waitress. "Another beer, toots." He missed the glare she shot back.
"I think things got out of hand," he told Zach. "She started to get possessive and he didn’t like it. He probably tried to end the affair. She got violent and offed him."
The scenario made sense. It happened all the time. "How?"
He shrugged. "How should I know? Hit him over the head with a frying pan?"
"And dragged the body to the car? From what I understand she’s a petite woman."
"Hell, maybe she had Teddy meet her in the desert and just ran him over in the car. Maybe she had an accomplice."
"Like her husband?"
Hanson froze, then snickered. "Colonel Sinclair wouldn’t waste his time on murder, not when ruining the guy’s career would be more satisfying."
"You’d think a man would be a little more…volatile about his wife screwing another guy."
"I don’t know. You tell me."
Zach followed Hanson’s jerk of the head and saw Vic breezing over to Claudia’s table.
* * *
"Good evening, ladies. Mind if I join you?"
Claudia and Kiki had been so deep in conversation, neither of them saw Brownell’s approach. His mere presence sparked a myriad of questions for Claudia, none of which she could ask. It made introductions awkward.
"Kiki, I’d like you to meet…" What was the man’s first name?
He stuck his hand out. "Vic Brownell."
With a flirtatious smile, Kiki accepted. "Charmed."
Still holding her hand, he slipped into the vacant chair. "Kiki, I hate to be rude to such a lovely lady, but I need to speak with Claudia alone. Do you mind?"
"Not at all." She blew Claudia a kiss. "Call me, darling."
Vic waited until the redhead was out of earshot, then moved to her chair. "I’m still trying to decide if I’m surprised that this marriage of yours is a sham."
Claudia let her gaze settle slowly on his. Naturally Zach would have a law enforcement official working with him, but something about the man’s approach felt unsettling. "I can’t see where that’s any concern of yours, Mr. Brownell."
"Please…call me Vic."
She conceded to the request with a tilt of her head.
"It really isn’t a concern, but it makes our job even easier."
"How so?"
A bright smile spread across his sun-tanned features. Claudia likened it to a Cheshire cat.
"If our suspect has a propensity for other men, wouldn’t it be easier if she thought she had a comrade in whom to confess?"
Claudia laced her fingers together. "I’m sorry. I don’t follow you."
"Tomorrow you and Zach will move into base housing across the street from the Sinclairs."
She snapped her fingers. "Just like that."
His smile widened. "You’d be surprised what NCIS can do. Besides, with all the housing renovation turmoil no one will notice. People are constantly being shuffled from one house to the other."
"If you’re that good, why not move us next door?"
His smile faded. "It was hard enough to get you in across the street as it was. We were lucky it was vacant. In any event…" He leaned closer. "Allison Sinclair is our suspect…an adulteress. If she thought you played around, too…"
He left the words hanging, expecting Claudia to pick up the hint. It wasn’t hard. Still, her deliberate lack of response forced him to spell it out.
"You and I. We can begin tonight. Let everyone, including your loving husband, see us together. A few not so discreet visits to your house in the daytime and we’re in."
It made sense. When working undercover, all angles had to be worked in the event something fell through. Zach was doing his part. She should do hers.
"And how do you propose we begin?"
He extended his hand, palm up. "The music’s slow. Dance with me."
Telling herself it was for show was the only way Claudia could force herself to walk onto the dance floor with Vic Brownell. He made it look smooth. Drawing her into his arms, pulling her close. Too close.
Claudia bit back her disgust. He was aroused, and made no secret about it nor did he make any apologies. He shuffled in time to the music, his arm anchoring her against him.
"Get your hands off my wife."
The words were measured, spoken through clenched teeth, and for a few seconds Claudia didn’t recognize them as coming from Zach. Then he grabbed Vic and yanked him back. This was no game, no front for the public. Zach was furious, his dark eyes hard with anger.
Claudia curled her fingers around his bicep. "Zach, please—"
He spun around on her. "Get in the Jeep…now."
Before she had the chance to move, he cupped her elbow and steered her toward the door. Claudia held her tongue—not that anything could pierce his anger. He had the courtesy to open the door of his Jeep for her, but slammed it closed once she was settled.
It was too much. She waited until he slipped into the driver’s seat, then snatched his keys from the slot before he could turn the engine.
"What’s the matter with you?" she snapped.
Zach splayed his fingers across his chest. "Me? What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with you?" He jabbed his index finger toward her. "For five years I haven’t gotten so much as a civil word from you, and in less than five minutes you’re pressed so tight against Vic Brownell an ant couldn’t squeeze between you. If I’d done something like that, you would have had me castrated and hung from the nearest tree."
"He said it was part of the ruse to flush out the killer."
Zach sputtered for a response. All he could manage was, "What?"
In careful detail, Claudia relayed their conversation. Instead of calming him, it added to his temper.
"He lied."
"It’s a good idea though. Why would he lie?"
His laughter held no humor. "Why do you think? He used it as an excuse to hold you. He wants you, or couldn’t you tell?"
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Vic had used her. Slipped under her defenses and taken advantage of her professionalism. "He made it quite apparent to me."
"He made it apparent to everyone in the room, Princess."
Claudia narrowed her eyes and tossed him the keys. "Had it been a normal situation, I would have dealt with it."
This time Zach’s chuckle wasn’t forced. "I’ve no doubt you would. I’ll take care of Vic in the morning."
She nestled her arms under her bosom, a defense against the chill of the night and the vulnerability at having been betrayed. The last place she wanted to be tonight was at Zach’s house. She longed to be where she was most safe—her own bed, or at least back at Phillip’s house. There, nothing could hurt her, and no one would lie to her.
From the outside there was nothing unique about Zach’s small rental house. It was set in a neighborhood much like any other, row upon row. Some yards were carefully landscaped with desert vegetation, others scraggly with brush and cacti. Zach’s was a cross between those—nothing fancy, but he took care to keep neat the few bushes and one fruitless mulberry tree the owners had planted.
He pulled into the driveway next to where they had parked her damaged car earlier. There was no attempt to use the garage.
"I wasn’t expecting company, so the house may look a little…lived in." He gave the keys to her. "Just thought I’d warn you. Go on in. I’ll get your luggage."
Lived in was an understatement at best. Knowing to expect something unusual wasn’t enough to prepare her for the mess she walked into.
A pile of shoes and socks were just inside the front door, which also looked like the collection point for Zach’s dirty clothes. Despite the fact that there was a laundry basket nearby, most items littered the floor.
The room was designed for male comfort. Claudia goggled at the overwhelming presence of a big screen television and entertainment system against one wall. Newspapers drifted from the easy chair in the corner. The coffee table was indistinguishable under a pile of magazines and books. One of the end tables was overloaded with peanut shells and empty soda cans. The other was miraculously clear—its glass top gleaming.
Claudia attributed its tidiness to the fact it was farthest from Zach’s reach. She picked her way across the debris field to look at the kitchen, then wished she hadn’t. Dirty dishes were everywhere—sink, counter, stove, table. Trash overflowed the can. She shuddered in disgust.
Against her better judgment, she wandered down the short hall toward the bathroom. Not daring to walk inside, she reached around the doorjamb and flicked on the light. This time she was surprised. The room was immaculate.
"I have four brothers," Zach said from behind her. "Mom hates a dirty bathroom. She drummed it into us at an early age to keep it sparkling clean. She said our wives would appreciate it one day."
"I’ll have to remember to thank her."
"The rest of the place isn’t all that dirty, just cluttered. I usually clean up over the weekend, but…"
Claudia pinned him to the wall with one disbelieving glance. "The kitchen is filthy. I’m surprised vermin haven’t set up house in there."
Zach flinched. Nothing like being put in your place. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but he resented her making him feel like…well, like he was being scolded by his mother.
"It’ll be fixed by morning. I put your luggage in my room. It’s the only bedroom, so you can take it. I’ll sleep on the couch."
"I wouldn’t dream of putting you out."
"Just do it, Claudia. I’m trying to make you more comfortable." He was tired of the sniping, the taunts. This had to end.
"I’m sure you are."
"The sheets are clean. I promise you won’t get cooties."
"Clean and cool. Waiting for your next liaison."
He smacked his palm against the wall, more from frustration than anger. "Damn it to hell, I’m sick and tried of you judging me. I don’t have a revolving door on my bedroom. In fact, it’s been quite a while since I last slept with someone. But I am sure of one thing, it’s been a lot more frequent for me than it has been for you."
Claudia whipped her hand across his face.
Zach’s gaze bore into hers. Then slowly, he nodded. "Well, that’s the first honest emotion I’ve ever seen out of you. Felt good, didn’t it? Go ahead. Give me another crack. You know you want to. I deserve it."
Claudia watched in horror at the imprint of her palm reddening his cheek. Tears she thought long buried clouded her vision. She was conscious of Zach reaching for her, caressing her upper arm.
"Claudia, I’m sorry…"
She jerked away. "Just leave me alone." Before the tears could become a torrent, she ran to his room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Zach slumped to the floor. That was a dirty tactic to take. What had he been thinking? He had let her get under his skin again. At the bar she was cool, calm, and appraising when all he could think about was Vic’s body pressed indecently against hers. Then to have her lift her nose in royal disdain and pronounce his house filthy.
All right. So most of the place was a mess. He knew that before he went out to Phillip’s to get her. And he knew she wouldn’t be pleased. He could have straightened up before their meeting with Hanson. Instead, he deliberately baited her. His decision was made solely because he knew she would come with him and the sight of the house would irritate her.
