Bayou Treasure Read online

  n Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Bayou Treasure

  ISBN 9781419909061

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Bayou Treasure Copyright© 2007 Georgia Tribell

  Edited by Jaynie Ritchie.

  Cover art by Elphaba.

  Electronic book Publication May 2007

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Bayou Treasure

  Georgia Tribell

  Dedication

  To Burt, my husband, and my boys, Cody and Devin for never giving up on me when I was more than willing to give up on myself. I love all of you more than you’ll ever know.

  Acknowledgements

  Mary O’Connor and Robin T. Popp, my wonderful critique partners and friends, I couldn’t have done this without the two of you. Thank you both for helping my dream come true.

  Donna Grant, friend and webmistress, your support, guidance and friendship have been invaluable.

  Jaynie Ritchie, my editor, for believing in this story and in me.

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Gerber: Gerber & Co

  GQ: Conde Nast Publications Inc.

  Saints: New Orleans Louisiana Saints, LLC

  The Court of Two Sisters: Karno, Billie Faye Valentine

  Chapter One

  “LD, you have a single white female entering through the main entrance in faded jeans, sweatshirt and jacket.”

  “Roger.”

  FBI Special Agent LD Carmouche turned his head and watched the woman walk into the lobby of the Royal Bostonian Hotel. The agents working the front doors stopped her then proceeded to check her identity and belongings as the security procedure required.

  The conversation between the two male agents and the woman was openly flirtatious. LD rolled his eyes in frustration; discretion didn’t seem to be a part of their vocabulary. He’d have to say something to the two greenhorns. He was in enough trouble as it was, after refusing reassignment to New Orleans. Again. The fallout from that had been a long lecture from his superior, a black mark on his record, and this assignment.

  Just because he was stuck in Boston freezing his toes off babysitting this hotel and Ambassador O’Donnel didn’t mean he didn’t take his work seriously. No matter the assignment, he gave it one hundred percent and expected the same from those working for him. Not to mention, he wasn’t going to have his record blemished because these two young pups weren’t smart enough to be cautious.

  The woman’s husky laugh joined the two agents’ as she retrieved her items. Then she crossed the reception area and disappeared into the manager’s office.

  LD spoke into the miniature microphone attached to his left cuff. “This is not a dating service, gentlemen. If you want a date, I suggest you troll the bars after you’re off the clock. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” sounded twice in his ear.

  “Now, who is she?”

  “Marie Bernard. According to the manager’s report, she’s a frequent guest.”

  Turning to his partner and longtime friend, Special Agent Rob Jackson, LD was once again stunned by Rob’s appearance. He had been undercover for the last twelve months and rejoined his team only yesterday. The shoulder-length honey blond hair and small diamond stud in his left ear were remnants from the assignment. They were also in stark contrast to his severely tailored suit and ice-cold blue eyes. LD lowered his wrist to ensure privacy and wondered if this day would ever end. “What do you think?”

  “According to the information we have, she’s an antique dealer in town buying merchandise for her store. She…”

  As Rob continued rattling off background information, the topic of their conversation walked out of the manager’s office. Rob’s words faded, along with the rest of the world, as LD got his first unobstructed view of a woman who took his breath away.

  He watched her approach and was sorely tempted to speak to her, but this wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, he gave a curt nod as she passed.

  LD let his gaze follow as she walked away. At least there was one highlight to his day, he thought enjoying the view.

  He met Rob’s gaze and knowing smile. A look of male appreciation passed between them, and in a voice soft enough to not carry, LD whispered in perfect Creole, “Nice butt.”

  LD was still smiling when the woman spun around to face him. He quickly replaced his smile with the most stoic poker face he could manage.

  He watched, in mounting dread, as she pinned him with a hellcat glare. Oh man, surely she hadn’t understood what he’d just said. If this got out, he’d be doing guard duty until he was old and gray.

  Slowly, she closed the space between them, never breaking eye contact with him. “You’re from Louisiana?”

  Her soft native Louisiana accent flowed over him like a warm Gulf Coast wave confirming the fact she’d understood him and he was toast. Years of training were all that kept him from groaning aloud. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Born and raised?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He watched as her eyes narrowed on him while she gave him a once-over. When her gaze reconnected with his, he saw the cool glint of intelligence and knew he was in trouble.

  “Tell me something, Mr…”

  “Carmouche. Special Agent LD Carmouche.”

  LD watched for her reaction to the news he was an agent. Nothing in her eyes gave away her feelings, but a very small sigh did escape. Now, what did that mean?

  “Tell me, Mr. Carmouche, what part of Louisiana were you raised in?”

  “It’s Special Agent Carmouche,” LD forced out between clenched teeth. “I’m from New Orleans.”

  She smiled sweetly, tilting her head to the side as she proceeded to punctuate her statement by jabbing him in the chest. “If you’re from New Orleans, then I know your mama taught you better manners than to comment on a woman’s backside. Maybe it’s time you went back home for a refresher course, Mr. Carmouche.”

  LD’s eyebrows snapped together as he looked down at the finger poking him in the chest. Legally, he could arrest her for battery, but that would only complicate matters. Raising his head, he glared back at the woman until her hand dropped.

  “Believe me, I have not been away too long.”

  Listening to himself, LD cringed. The heavy Cajun accent he’d worked long and hard to erase was back, and this vixen was to thank for it.

  “You can’t hide forever from who you are, Mr. Carmouche.”

  “It’s Special Agent Carmou
che. And how can I be hiding when I’m standing in the middle of the Royal Bostonian?”

  “You’re hiding behind this,” the woman stated, lifting the lapel of his jacket, “and this,” she continued, flipping his tie. Then pointing to his shoes she finished, “and those. You wear the disguise well, but it’s not you.”

  LD crossed his arms as he leaned down so he was nose to nose with Ms. Marie Bernard. Eyes the color of dark chocolate gazed back at him. If they were a shade darker, they would be as black as her hair.

  Don’t think about it.

  “If this isn’t me, then what is?”

  LD was trained in intimidation, and he was about to use those skills to regain control of this situation. Narrowing his eyes, he waited for her to back off, tuck tail and run.

  Instead, her eyes softened and became dreamy. She was seeing something he couldn’t. “I see you in jeans, boots and a comfortable chambray shirt.”

  LD continued to look into her eyes for a few more seconds, then straightened. His toes tingled just like when he’d been a kid and Gran would speak of the future. This couldn’t be happening, not in the middle of Boston. It was the cold damp weather making his toes prickle, not this woman and her voodoo-sounding words.

  “See you in New Orleans, Mr. Carmouche.”

  “It’s Special Agent Carmouche,” LD ground out between clinched teeth as Marie walked away. “And it’ll be a long time before you see me in New Orleans.”

  He watched as she entered the elevator and turned, catching his gaze. A slow knowing smile spread across her face and his mouth went dry. How could she look at him as if she knew him inside and out after a two-minute conversation?

  As the elevator doors closed, she winked at him. “We’ll see.”

  “I agree,” Rob muttered from behind him.

  LD turned toward his friend. “Come again?”

  “You said she had a nice butt and I’m agreeing with you. I think in the future it would be best if you kept your opinions to yourself and didn’t shout them across the lobby. I do believe she heard you.”

  “Really.” LD sighed and rubbed his temple.

  “Don’t worry about it. I think she likes you anyway.” Rob slapped him on the back for encouragement.

  “It doesn’t matter. Did you see the rock she was wearing?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So—it means she’s taken.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything these days.” Exasperation was apparent in Rob’s voice.

  “Well, it means something to me—besides I’m not interested.” Yanking the duty roster from Rob’s hand, LD started flipping pages, hoping he would remember what he was supposed to be doing.

  “Right.” Rob’s deep baritone voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve seen you around a lot of women and that one got under your skin, like a tick on a hound.”

  LD rubbed his chest where Marie Bernard poked him and wondered why he could still feel the heat of her touch. Rob was wrong. The woman hadn’t gotten under his skin. She’d gotten on his nerves.

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Marie was back on the elevator headed down to the lobby because she was starving. The prepackaged peanut butter crackers she’d eaten while soaking away the winter chill in the wonderfully decadent marble tub were gone. If even one item on the room service menu looked halfway appetizing, she would have stayed wrapped in her warm terry robe and ordered in. But her stomach was demanding real food, and at the moment it wanted shrimp fried rice. Thankfully, the China Moon Café was just across the street.

  Stepping off the elevator, Marie scanned the lobby, suddenly self-conscious in the jeans, flannel shirt and hiking boots she’d slipped on. How she looked shouldn’t matter to her, but it did and that irritated her. Unable to stop herself, she reached a hand up to check her hair as she licked her dry lips and wished she’d remembered lipstick.

  She stopped just outside the hotel doors and looked both directions. He hadn’t been in the lobby, nor was he anywhere outside. Not that she’d been looking.

  Liar, liar pants on fire.

  Okay, so she’d been looking. How could she not? The man looked like he’d just walked off the cover of GQ. In his dark gray wool suit, light gray shirt, and paisley tie, he’d looked like boy candy.

  It wasn’t a crime for her to notice. But acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, instead of a thirty-five-year-old independent woman, needed to stop.

  Mr. GQ probably went for the superficial type who bought everything from their chemically whitened teeth to their implants. Besides, she preferred men who wore boots, jeans and t-shirts to work, not suits and Italian loafers.

  Even if she were attracted to him, it didn’t matter because tomorrow she would be back home. Her instincts told her Mr. Agent Man would soon be visiting New Orleans, but they didn’t give her a clue as to whether he’d call her or not. Her premonitions seldom, if ever, included her and it frustrated her to no end.

  Across the street, a food vendor slowly pushed his cart, and the aroma of fresh baked pretzels filled the air. Farther away, a couple holding hands strolled along the sidewalk, heads bent in a private conversation interrupted occasionally by a quick kiss. She watched until they disappeared around the corner and suddenly, Marie felt very lonely.

  Twisting the engagement ring she’d purchased earlier in the day at an auction, she wondered if she’d ever find a man who would put one on her hand for real. She didn’t want to grow old alone. She wanted a family to call her own, and silently prayed she had not given up her last chance at achieving at least part of her dream.

  Hunching her shoulders against the frigid wind, she looked left then right, then left again before starting across the street. Every fiber in her body told her she was being watched, and earlier today she’d have sworn someone was following her. It didn’t make sense, but her instincts were seldom wrong.

  Of course, she’d been jumpy ever since her store was robbed last month, but she would not allow fear to control her.

  Marie stepped onto the sidewalk and as she did the pretzel cart hit her causing her to stumble backward. The quick-thinking vendor grabbed her arm in time to stop her from falling back into the street.

  “Thanks, you can let go now,” Marie breathed as she regained her footing.

  “Walk.” The man’s voice was as cold as the cutting wind.

  “Excuse me?” Marie flinched as the pressure on her arm increased and a shiver of fear swept over her.

  “Over there.” The vendor nodded toward a delivery van parked at the corner.

  Marie stumbled again as she was half shoved, half dragged toward the van. “You can have my wallet, my jewelry.”

  The man lengthened his stride. “Get in the van, lady.”

  Never get in the vehicle. The words of a self-defense instructor rang in her mind. “NO!”

  Even as she shouted, Marie twisted away from the man’s grasp. Her attacker reached out, snagging a handful of hair before she could escape. Tears sprang to her eyes and she yelped as she was jerked backward. Turning, she swung her arm hard. Cartilage breaking and warm blood running down her arm assured her the heel of her hand had connected with its target. Unfortunately, the mugger turned before impact, which meant she’d only succeeded in breaking his nose, not immobilizing him.

  “Bitch.” The man tightened his hold on her hair as he reached into his jacket with his free hand and withdrew a pistol. “Now do as you’re told. Walk.”

  The man pulled her along faster.

  The van loomed in front of her like an open coffin.

  Death.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Couldn’t think.

  * * * * *

  “You know you wouldn’t be in such a sour mood if you’d kept your mouth shut earlier. But hey—if it makes you feel better to take it out on me, go right ahead.”

  LD ignored Rob as they finished their perimeter check. He was annoyed with his partner and wanted to stay angry. If he was irritated with Rob, then there wa
s something else to think about, instead of a woman with dark brown eyes and black hair.

  “I’ve never seen a woman twist you up like this.”

  Neither have I.

  Rob fell silent as they surveyed the street. The cars parked along the curb had been verified and the pedestrian traffic was at a minimum. The aroma of fresh baked pretzels drifted to him as a street vendor slowly pushed his cart down the opposite sidewalk. LD’s attention was drawn to the woman standing half a block away.

  “Speak of the devil,” Rob muttered.

  LD didn’t have to look twice to know who it was. The wind whipped her hair around in a dance that was both seductive and mesmerizing. Unhurriedly, Marie brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and started forward.

  LD took a deep breath. The frosty air should have cleared his mind, but didn’t. He forced his attention back to work, and resumed his surveillance of the block.

  A delivery van pulled up to the corner opposite them and parked. The side door opened and two men stepped out before turning their backs as if to retrieve some items. The driver remained behind the wheel with the engine running.

  “Is this delivery scheduled?” LD’s concern grew as they started back toward the hotel entrance.

  “No,” Rob answered as the two men broke into a trot.

  “Secure the hotel and call for backup.”

  “Where are you going?” Rob asked as LD turned away from him and picked up speed.

  “After Ms. Bernard.”

  Through his earpiece, he could hear Rob snapping out orders for the lockdown. The sharp voices of his team members assured him everything was being handled according to protocol.

  Now, if there was only a procedure for running after a woman who seemed to be nothing but trouble.

  LD sprinted across the street, then reduced his speed to a fast-paced walk as he started moving down the sidewalk toward Marie. He closed two-thirds the distance separating them before he realized what was going on.