Under the Boardwalk Page 2

  He looked as good as he sounded. He was temptation in a black leather jacket as Ariana was now all too aware. And he was studying her with the same intensity she’d been giving him.

  She should focus. She had more pressing concerns than whether his hazel eyes were more green than brown, or whether his lips were hard… or tender and soft when he kissed…

  “You’re not Zoe.”

  That broke her fantasies about the man. “What makes you so sure?”

  “That’s easy, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his gaze raking her over head to toe. “You’re dressed like a nun.”

  She’d always disdained her sister’s flashy, sexy wardrobe, but at the moment, she’d give anything to be dressed more like her. The pantsuit Ariana had considered her armor earlier suddenly felt stifling and uncomfortable.

  He shrugged. “Not to mention you’re missing the second hole in your right ear.”

  She narrowed her gaze. He’d noticed little details about Zoe others might have missed, and she could have kissed his razor-stubbled cheeks. Ariana had found someone she could question about her sister’s disappearance, and she was nearly giddy with relief.

  But when he reached out and toyed with the single pearl in her ear, relief turned to desire. His calloused skin rasped over hers. Her body trembled, and it wasn’t the cool air causing the sensation. “I’m glad to see you’re observant.”

  “I’m also persistent,” he said in a cocky voice that seemed to suit him.

  A combination of arrogance, certainty, and suave charm, he was the complete opposite of any man she’d been with in the past. He definitely was a marked contrast from Jeffrey Boyd, the man who’d given her a taste of young love, then betrayed her by demanding she choose between him and her unconventional family. Ariana had done the only sensible thing. She’d left them all behind in search of her own life.

  Unlike the men she dated in Vermont, this man was a package of pure testosterone and all-male sexuality, which probably explained the liquid rush of desire and the sudden attraction she felt for a perfect stranger. Though she sensed his need to be in control, the distinctive trait seemed to suit him. Whereas Jeffrey, she’d come to realize, had just been a pompous ass.

  “If you’re not Zoe, you must be-”

  “Ariana.” She licked her dry lips, her breath finally coming in even cadence. Gut instinct told her he wasn’t a killer. He’d also been close to Zoe. Both factors tipped in his favor. “And you are?”

  “Quinn.” He extended his hand for a shake, holding on to her fingers for a few seconds too long to be considered polite. His thumb caressed the pulse point in her wrist before he lowered his arm to his side.

  She tipped her head, ignoring the cascading sensations he’d inspired. “Quinn what?”

  He shrugged. “Donovan.”

  “So tell me, how do you know Zoe?”

  His gaze locked with hers. “We worked together at Damon’s.”

  The casino. Ariana winced at the reminder of her sister’s life as a sometimes showgirl, sometimes dancer, too-often con artist. “Let me guess. You were the bartender where she stripped? Her escort for ballroom dancing classes? Or her partner in bed?”

  “Zoe never mentioned you were a smartass.”

  The chuckle in his voice cheered her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, strong and comforting. She swallowed hard, angry at herself for her conflicted emotions when it came to her sister’s choices.

  She sniffed and wiped her damp eyes with the back of her sleeve. “I’m surprised she mentioned me at all.”

  “Actually she spoke of you often, Ari,” he said gruffly, using her name for the first time.

  Only her family called her Ari. This man knew that. But to the rest of the world, she was Professor Ariana Costas, proper and dignified. She’d come home to face her crazy family and she’d needed the conservative facade she’d built around herself to get through it.

  But her normal camouflage wasn’t helping. She hadn’t been home five minutes and the insanity had begun again. Only this time she was embroiled in her sister’s life, someone was taking potshots at her, and the sexiest man she’d ever seen was her only link to Zoe. Normalcy was nowhere to be found.

  She met his gaze, the one that seemed to see inside her and read her emotions. “Whatever Zoe said about me, it couldn’t have been pleasant.”

  He laughed. “Zoe does speak her mind,” he said without directly replying to her statement.

  “And she’s cautious about trusting people.” Ariana narrowed her gaze. “Yet she mentioned me to you.” A fact that gave her another reason to get closer to him.

  To this intense, sexy man.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Detective Quinn Donovan didn’t break eye contact with Ariana Costas. That jet black hair framed a gorgeous face with glowing olive skin and sea green eyes befitting her Mediterranean roots. At a glance, she was identical to her sister. But her beauty wasn’t what drew him. He’d worked with Zoe and she hadn’t affected him at all sexually-though he acknowledged she was an attractive woman-and certainly not emotionally.

  Yet in one meeting, Quinn had been sucker punched by Zoe’s twin. There was much more to Ari Costas than good looks. In those deep green eyes, he saw a depth of character sadly lacking in his world. Even her federal-agent sister, who knew how to turn off her emotions, had softened when she spoke about her twin. Seeing Ari in person, Quinn understood why. Damned if she didn’t get to him, too.

  Despite the rift between the sisters, Ari seemed to know Zoe well. Quinn said, “Zoe’s got good reason not to trust people.” No cop or agent did. But, respecting Zoe’s privacy and cover, he didn’t reveal more.

  “Especially me.” Ari glanced away, with seeming sadness and regret.

  Quinn hadn’t anticipated Ari’s reaction to her sister’s disappearance or his response to it. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and guilt over his role in this charade hit him hard. As a child, he’d trained himself to experience no pain, yet he felt hers now.

  “Aw hell.” Reaching out, he massaged her shoulder, having a damned hard time ignoring the scent of her shampoo and the feel of her feminine softness beneath the suit jacket.

  She shivered. For the first time, he realized she wasn’t dressed for the weather. Shrugging off his jacket, he covered her shoulders with the heavy leather, all the while reminding himself he couldn’t afford to let down his guard.

  He didn’t know who’d taken the shot or where the triggerman had gone to, but he didn’t want Ari making herself an easy target. Which reminded him of her earlier attempt at saving her delectable behind. Serpentine my ass, Quinn thought. Didn’t the woman know the old Alan Arkin and Peter Falk movie had been a comedy, not a lesson in sniper avoidance?

  Another difference between Ari and her twin. If not for the outward resemblance to her experienced sister, Quinn would doubt they were even related. But they were.

  And now Ari was here, getting herself mistaken for Zoe, and threatening to blow two years of painfully laid groundwork to take down a drug operation whose money was being laundered through Damon’s new casino. Because Quinn had already ingratiated himself with Damon, the local division of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives had agreed to take Quinn and his partner on loan from their police department. One group was working the drug sting, while Quinn was this close to substantiating the money-laundering accusation.

  But as long as Ari stayed near Atlantic City, she was in danger and so was the op he’d spent two years setting up. Both Zoe and his superiors were going to be royally pissed at this turn of events, no more than Quinn himself.

  He wanted Ari, her soft body, fragrant scent, and the feelings she aroused in him, gone. “Let me take you home.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Because if the sniper comes back, you’ll serpentine?”

  She scowled at him. “I hadn’t thought about him returning,” she admitted.

  “Is your car around here?” he asked, even thou
gh he’d seen her walk to the beach and knew just how close her parents’ house was located.

  She shook her head.

  He placed a hand on the small of her back and steered her toward his truck. Once they were seated inside, Quinn laid an arm over the back of her headrest and turned her way. “I assume you’ll be going back to Vermont soon?”

  Now that she’d been shot at and scared half to death, he was sure she’d leave New Jersey far behind. She’d damn well better, because until Ari was on a plane out of here, she was a walking target and was Quinn’s problem.

  “I’m not leaving until Zoe comes home,” she said.

  He clenched his jaw. “I thought the police said…”

  “The police said she’s missing,” Ari said sharply.

  “Missing with little likelihood of being found. No clues, no body,” he said, softening his voice when he ought to be hammering the point home. When was the last time he’d tempered his words or his tone for anybody?

  “Exactly.” Her body shook with pent-up emotion. “And until I see her body, I will believe she’s very much alive.” Wrapping her arms around herself, Ari curled into the passenger seat beside him. “I’m staying right here and waiting until she walks in the door.”

  “Good God,” Quinn muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Does stubbornness run in your family or what?”

  She tilted her head toward him. “Why? Do you have a problem with stubborn females?” she asked, a small smile tilting her lips.

  He groaned, then leaned so close he saw light freckles on her nose. “Listen very carefully to what I’m going to tell you, because I only intend to say this once.”

  Her eyes grew wide with anticipation.

  “Your sister’s alive.”

  She sucked in a deep breath but before she could interrupt, Quinn continued. “I can’t tell you how I know or why I know, and you can’t reveal what I just said to another living, breathing person on this earth.”

  And she’d better follow his instructions. Ari had caused enough trouble already. Just by showing up in Ocean Isle, she’d not only made herself a walking target, but she’d raised the notion that Zoe might not be dead after all.

  “But-”

  “Just listen.” He placed a finger over her damp lips. The electrical connection pulsed directly to his groin. A damned inconvenient reaction, Quinn thought, and gritted his teeth. “Zoe will contact you when she can. In the meantime, you get on a plane to Vermont and do not under any circumstances come back until your sister tells you it’s safe.”

  The entire operation depended on her cooperation. Damon needed to believe that Zoe was dead and that Quinn had done the deed. To maintain the charade, Ari needed to take herself home. It was the only way to keep her safe. “Do you promise?”

  She met his gaze, her eyes damp with gratitude as she nodded.

  “You’ll leave town?” He needed to hear her promise.

  “Yes.”

  Quinn exhaled hard and sat up, turning the key in the ignition. A glance over his shoulder told him Ari was trembling with relief. And since she wasn’t Zoe, he trusted her to do exactly as she promised.

  Professor Ariana Costas would return to her safe life in Vermont. And Quinn would never see her again.

  • • •

  Like hell she’d leave town. Even after a fitful night’s sleep, Ariana had a hard time believing Quinn could suggest such a thing.

  He possessed nerve and arrogance in abundance, not to mention a hefty dose of sex appeal. But no matter how attractive she found him, she wasn’t sure how much she could trust him. She’d dealt with a domineering man before, and lying to Quinn hadn’t been as difficult as it once would have been.

  Ariana had come from a family of con artists, and she’d definitely learned a trick or two. The ability to fib convincingly had quickly returned, even if she wasn’t all that comfortable with the act. But Quinn had boldly stated that he knew for certain her sister was alive, then refused to elaborate. Not even the police could say for sure what had happened to Zoe, yet Quinn, a man she barely knew, expected her to take his word at face value.

  She couldn’t give in to fear-her sister’s life was too important. So was making amends and repairing their relationship. When the twins should have been each other’s best friends and confidantes, they’d been each other’s judgmental opposition instead. Zoe had disappeared not knowing Ariana cared.

  Obviously Quinn didn’t know the Costas determination very well. Ariana understood the danger was as real as the bullet she’d dodged yesterday, but she was staying.

  To start, Ariana needed to get information from people at Damon’s Casino, where her sister had worked. Since there was a strong possibility that the person who had shot at Ariana would be there and possibly mistake her for her twin again, Ariana would take a few necessary precautions beforehand. She needed to look different enough from Zoe that the shooter wouldn’t confuse them again.

  To accomplish that purpose, she’d made an appointment at a hair salon for later on that day, to change her haircut and color, but the external differences could only go so far. In order to fit in with Zoe’s friends and coworkers and coax them to trust her with whatever they knew, Ariana needed to dress like her twin. The dark suits and long-sleeved outfits she’d brought with her were useless for this kind of fishing expedition. She needed to shed her Professor Costas demeanor in favor of a more relaxed, Jersey-girl image.

  She rifled through her sister’s closet, searching for something to wear. She pulled out a black miniskirt and red leather bustier from the closet. Lordy, her sister actually wore these clothes?

  Ariana held both up in front of the mirror and turned from side to side. How ironic that she now had to take on the look and persona of the person she’d always chided her sister for becoming.

  “Barbie with a black wig,” she said, frowning at the sight. She had to make the huge transition from professor to vamp in one night, and she wondered how she’d ever pull it off.

  “Looks more like a Halloween costume than something my Ari would wear,” her mother said from the doorway to Zoe’s room.

  Ariana blew out a puff of air in frustrated agreement. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She looked over her shoulder at her mother.

  Elena wore a long black dress that matched her raven hair, which cascaded down her back. Lace sleeves covered her arms to the elbows and then trailed to the floor. Her mother was wearing her Morticia outfit.

  “You know when I first saw you standing there, I had a sense of déjà vu.” Elena curled her fingers around the molding in the doorway as she spoke. “I felt an immediate rush of relief that Zoe was really home.”

  Ariana understood her mother’s feelings. For all her eccentricity, Elena adored her daughters. “Come here, Mom.” With a smile that didn’t come easily with Zoe missing, Ariana extended her hand, needing her mother’s hug as much as she sensed Elena needed hers.

  Elena shuffled across the room with tiny steps. Beneath the dress, she twisted her ankles in a practiced move that would put Angelica Huston or Carolyn Jones to shame. “Show season’s over,” Ariana reminded her mother.

  “All the more reason to keep my skills highly polished. Although things may change soon.” Before Ariana could question her, Elena finally reached her daughter and pulled Ariana into her arms.

  Closing her eyes, Ariana breathed in deep and, for a moment, immersed herself in her mother’s love. She soaked in the warmth and caring, then pulled herself together. She needed to be the strong one and help her mother through this hard time.

  “Mom, Zoe will be fine.” Ariana counted on Quinn’s words as she reassured her mother. She was putting her faith in a man she’d just met and a story he refused to tell.

  She straightened and tossed the clothing onto the bed behind her. “I need something more middle-of-the-road,” she murmured, speaking of clothing. “What do you suggest I wear to Damon’s?” she asked her mother.

  The normall
y unflappable Elena stiffened suddenly. “Damon’s?” she asked, her voice rising. “Why on earth would you want to go to the casino?”

  Ariana lowered herself onto the bed and urged her mother down beside her. Since she already had one daughter missing, Ariana hadn’t told her mother she’d been shot at yesterday, and she understood Elena’s worry now.

  She squeezed her mother’s soft hand. “You aren’t going to lose me, too. I just want to ask some questions and find out if anyone knows where Zoe went.”

  Elena’s gaze remained downward, studying the patchwork quilt on Zoe’s bed. “But the police already questioned people,” she said, urgency in her voice.

  “I know but it can’t hurt for me to poke around some more. I owe it to my sister.” And if she wanted to be able to face herself in the mirror ever again, she owed it to herself, too.

  Elena shook her head vehemently. “You can’t go there. It’s not safe. And I can’t be responsible for anything happening to you, too.”

  Ariana raised an eyebrow at her mother’s words. “Who said you were responsible for anything? Is someone blaming you for Zoe’s disappearance?” But even as Ariana asked, her mother’s shenanigans came back to her in living color and a sick feeling settled in Ariana’s stomach. “You were involved in a con, weren’t you? You and Zoe. And now she’s disappeared.”

  “Now darling…”

  “Do not patronize me.” Ariana rose and began pacing the floor. “For years you’ve been playing people and now you finally got into something dangerous!”

  “Not exactly.” Elena stood and glided slowly across the room, Morticia-style, until she came up beside Ariana. “It wasn’t a con. At least not in the traditional sense.”

  “I didn’t know there were traditional cons,” Ariana said, disgusted. She tipped her head to the side. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

  Elena twisted her hands in front of her. “If only you two weren’t so independent! So strong-willed. If only you’d find a good man like your papa and get married…”

  Elena always rambled when explaining, and even more so when she was upset or nervous, but Ariana wasn’t in the mood to hear her mother extol the virtues of having a man by her side. “What does this have to do with Zoe’s disappearance?”