Her body tightened with desire. Her hips pushed against his thighs. His palms slipped down her back, cupping her rear, pulling her close, then lifting her to press her intimately to him, her thighs wrapping around his body. The kisses went on, heated and impatient as he turned to perch her on the table.
His hands slipped under her T-shirt, kneading her bare waist, making their way up. She could feel her nipples harden beneath her cotton bra, tingling in anticipation, waiting for his touch, desperate for his touch.
“This is bad,” he rasped.
No, it was good. It was too good. It was ridiculously good.
“There are cameras,” he said.
That got her attention.
She jerked back. “Here?”
He nodded.
“Is someone watching?”
“Probably Vegas.”
She struggled to quash her hormones, to catch her breath, to summon up the guilt and embarrassment the situation warranted. She was kissing her boss. More than that, she was making out like a crazed teenager with the very man judging her professionalism.
Maybe this was a test. It was probably a test. She’d passed weapons proficiency only to fail miserably at self-control. She scrambled to salvage the situation, seizing on the first idea that hit her brain.
“About me going to South America?” She dredged up a coquettish smile and blinked up at him.
His eyes went flat along with his voice. “Are you kidding me?”
She brazened it out, walking her fingertips up his chest. “I speak pretty good Spanish.”
He trapped her hand with his, squeezing it tight. “You’re telling me this was persuasion?”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “Of course it was persuasion.”
“You’re lying.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She lifted a brow. “You believe you’re that irresistible?”
His expression flinched.
“Think about it, Troy.” She gave a careless little laugh.
He grasped her chin, holding her head still, staring into her eyes.
Anxiety overtook her. She ordered herself not to crack, to hold onto her self-control. If he knew she’d melted like sugar in his arms, he’d kick her to the curb.
His jaw clamped tight, and the moment stretched into infinity.
“Don’t you ever,” he growled, “ever try to play me again.”
She’d have nodded, but his grip was too tight.
“Got it?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He turned abruptly away, and she all but sagged against the table.
* * *
“Anyone else see it?” Troy asked Vegas as he marched into the control room.
“No,” Vegas answered.
“Delete it.”
“Already done.”
Troy halted, relief easing the knot in his chest. He didn’t really know why he cared. It was no skin off his nose if the guys saw him kissing Mila.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I did it for her.”
“No kidding.”
There was no reason to protect Troy’s reputation. It was Mila who would suffer if anybody saw the footage. And she’d brought it on herself. Still, Troy didn’t want to make her life even more difficult while she was here. Only a colossal jerk would do that.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he muttered to himself.
“I know exactly what you were thinking,” said Vegas.
“I don’t usually let women play me.”
“Huh?” Vegas looked surprised.
“She’s better at it than I expected.” Troy’s mind rewound to the shooting range. “A lot of women have tried. I can usually spot it coming a mile away. And her? Her. I had every reason in the world to suspect she’d try something.”
“What makes you think she was playing you?”
Troy gave his partner a look of astonishment. “Intellect and reason. She’s looking for a permanent job.”
“Doesn’t mean she’ll use seduction.”
“She admitted that she did.”
Vegas peered at him. “She admitted she was playing you?”
It took Troy a moment to frame a response. “Is there something wrong with the way I’m speaking English?”
“Nothing wrong with the way you’re talking,” Vegas said, glancing to the monitors and punching a couple of computer keys.
Troy was hit with a sudden suspicion. “You didn’t put her up to it, did you? You were just yankin’ my chain yesterday.”
Vegas raised his palms in a gesture of mock surrender. “I’ve got way better things to do with my time.”
“So do I.”
“That’s reassuring. The footage is deleted. It’s like it never happened.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
As far as Troy was concerned, the kiss had never happened. It had been tradecraft, that was all. Mila was a beautiful woman. She knew it and had seen an advantage in flirting with him. Under normal circumstances, if she was on an operation, he’d admire her skill.
“Did she pass?” Vegas asked.
“Yes.”
Mila was definitely proficient in the use of firearms.
“Care to elaborate?”
“She’s good with a gun. Her reaction time is acceptable, so is her judgment under fire.”
“A ringing endorsement,” Vegas drawled.
“What do you want me to say?”
“She scored 100 percent in the tactical house.”
“Lots of guys do that.”
“And we hire them.”
“Are you making a point?” asked Troy.
“What are you going to do if she aces it all?”
“She’s five feet four, less than a hundred and twenty pounds. There’s no amount of training, grit or determination that gets her through the obstacle course.”
“True enough,” said Vegas. “Your sister is on her way down.”
Troy glanced at the elevator camera feed to see Kassidy inside with a crying Drake in her arms. She looked exhausted, her purple hair messy and her makeup smeared.
“I’m glad we don’t have audio,” said Vegas.
“This is ridiculous,” said Troy.
“Might be a good time to suggest she rethink her life plan.”
On the monitor, the elevator doors opened. Down the hall, Drake’s piercing cries echoed along the passage.
The sound grew inexorably louder until Kassidy came through the doorway.
“He’s teething,” she said.
“So you brought him here?” Troy’s question sounded like an accusation.
“I needed to talk to you.”
“We’re trying to work here.” Even as he admonished her, he found himself taking the blubbering Drake from her arms.
He had no desire to be anywhere near the shrieking, soggy, slimy baby, but Kassidy looked as if she was about to keel over. There was simply no other way to avoid imminent injury to both of them.
He put Drake to his shoulder, cringing as the kid’s snotty nose came into contact with his neck.
“His gums are all red and swollen,” said Kassidy.
“Can you give him something?”
Surely modern medicine had come up with a cure for swollen baby gums. Aspirin came to mind, or maybe a little whiskey. A little whiskey might also put the poor kid to sleep for a while.
“I have,” Kassidy wailed. “More than once. It’s supposed to numb his mouth. But it doesn’t seem to help at all.”
A numbing agent struck Troy as a decent idea. Still, Drake continued to cry in his ear.
&n
bsp; “How’s the nanny search coming?” he asked her.
“The service wants a deposit.” Kassidy bit her bottom lip. “I was wondering...”
She looked sweet and defenseless in her pretty pastel blouse and yoga pants.
“No problem,” he said. “I’ll add it to the total.”
“You don’t have to say it like that,” she snapped back.
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t expect me to ever pay it back. I’m going to pay it back.”
Vegas stepped in. “Have you ever paid anything back?”
Kassidy turned on him. “I’m earning money now. More money than ever. It just takes a while for it to get into the pipe. There are up-front costs, and...”
Troy tried jiggling Drake, figuring the motion might distract him.
Vegas arched a look at Drake. “And it’s a pretty expensive new hobby you’ve taken on.”
“He’s not a hobby,” said Kassidy. “He’s a human being.” She took Drake from Troy’s arms as if to rescue him. “What is wrong with you people?”
“I said yes,” Troy pointed out. “Tell the service to invoice me.”
“They want a check up front.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just find a good nanny.”
Twin tears formed in Kassidy’s big eyes, and Troy felt like a heel.
Before he could apologize, Mila appeared, taking in the scene.
“What’s going on here?” she asked Troy. “What did you do?”
It was her turn to take Drake from Kassidy’s arms.
“Me?” Troy asked.
“Why is everybody crying?”
“He’s teething,” he found himself answering.
Mila put a hand on Kassidy’s shoulder. “Did something happen? Did you get another email?”
Troy jumped on the non-baby topic. “Another email?”
Kassidy was shaking her head.
“She desperately needs some sleep,” Mila said to Troy. “She’s got a gig tonight.”
“And that has what to do with me?”
Mila frowned at him. “Nice.”
“What nice? I just told her I’d foot the nanny bill.”
Mila handed Drake back to Troy.
“You have got to be kidding,” said Troy.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vegas smirk.
“I’m putting Kassidy to bed,” said Mila.
“I’m working.”
“I’ll be back.”
“You have five minutes,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes in response, ushering Kassidy out the door and down the hall.
Drake’s cries turned to blubbers.
“Well played,” said Vegas.
“Shut up,” said Troy.
“Do you think Mila will come back?”
“If she doesn’t, I’m hunting her down.”
Troy rubbed a hand up and down Drake’s back, his sympathies engaged. He tried rocking the baby, hoping to lull him to sleep. The poor kid sure hadn’t won any prizes so far in life.
* * *
Troy paused to listen outside his apartment door. He preferred to cook his own dinner, but if Drake was up and crying, he’d head down the block to The Devon Grill.
Silence.
He slid his key card into the lock, opened the door and crept cautiously into the foyer. All he could hear was the whir of the heating system, and then clicks as someone typed on a keyboard. He moved around the corner, bringing into view his living room and the dining room beyond.
Mila was at the dining table. Her head was bent over a laptop computer, and the space around her was littered with papers. Her hair was in its usual neat braid. Her blue T-shirt was stretched over her slim shoulders. And Drake was sleeping against her, balanced on her arm, his face tucked into her neck.
Troy moved quietly across the carpet to where she could see him, having no desire whatsoever to speak and wake the sleeping baby.
She caught sight of him and looked up. Then she pointed to Drake and put a finger across her lips.
“Where’s Kassidy?” he whispered.
“Sleeping.”
“No nanny?”
Mila gave a small shake of her head. “There’s one coming by at seven for an interview.”
“What about the last one? She seemed okay.” In Troy’s mind, expediency was more important than perfection in the circumstances.
“She only does occasional work.”
“Oh. Well, could she come occasionally tonight?”
Mila smiled. “Hopefully the new one will work out.”
Drake squirmed against her.
“Can you put him in his crib?” Troy asked.
“I tried a few times. He just woke right up again.”
“We’re waking him by talking.”
She glanced down at the baby. “I guess I can’t let him sleep forever.”
Troy wasn’t ready to discard that as a valid approach to child rearing. Babies definitely seemed easier when they were fast asleep.
Then she gave a grimace. “My arm’s asleep.”
He heaved a sigh and gently gathered Drake to nestle him against his own shoulder.
“Thanks,” said Mila, rubbing her left arm.
She met Troy’s gaze for a moment, and then seemed to remember the awkwardness of their morning. She quickly glanced down at the table.
“I’ve been working through some club records,” she told him, moving some of the papers around, her words rapid, tone louder.
Drake wiggled some more against him.
“For Kassidy’s last twenty gigs. I convinced the clubs to give me credit card records for ticket sales and drinks, and I’m loading the names into a database. So far, I’m not seeing any distinct patterns. And a lot of people pay cash at the door, so I don’t know how far this will get us. But it’s a start.”
“Repeat customers?” he asked, moving so he could see her computer screen.
“Some. I’ve got more data to enter. Then I’ll track down photos and see where facial recognition gets me.”
Troy had to admit, it was a solid start to the investigation. He couldn’t fault her work so far.
He gazed down at her profile, noting the cute slope of her nose, the translucence of her skin, the length of her dark lashes and the intense color of her full lips. He remembered kissing them. Even now, he could feel their heat, taste their sweetness, and he experienced that potent rush of hormones all over again.
She glanced up, looking instantly startled by the expression on his face.
He quickly cleared his throat, tamping down the desire to drag her into his arms. “Are you up for another test tomorrow?”
It took her a beat to answer. “Which one?”
“Tradecraft theory.” It was a written test, and he wouldn’t need to be in the room while she wrote it.
“That doesn’t give me any time to study.”
“You don’t get to study.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“This is about what you know, not what you can cram into your brain overnight.”
“I’ll be with your sister overnight.”
“Shall we say ten a.m.?”
Drake began to vocalize in Troy’s ear. The crying was going to start any minute.
“You’re not going to give me any chance at all, are you?” she asked.
“I’m giving you exactly the same chance as anyone else. Is there a bottle around? I’m no expert, but I think this guy might be hungry when he wakes up.”
Mila came to her feet and turned for the kitchen. “I don’t believe you.”
Troy followed. “That he’ll be hungry?”
“Ha-h
a.” She passed through to the kitchen. “That you give all of your employees a pop quiz on tradecraft.”
“I do.”
She removed a baby bottle from the fridge and turned on the hot water. “You want me to fail.”
“I expect you to fail. That’s not the same thing.”
She held the bottle to warm under the running water. “You also want me to fail.”
Drake was whimpering now, taking in deeper breaths, obviously working up to something more impressive.
Troy went around the island, moving closer to Mila and the bottle, wanting to pop it into Drake’s mouth just as soon as it was ready.
“I don’t know what you think you’ll achieve,” he said. “Why put yourself through this?”
“I want a job.”
“I’ve already told you I’m not hiring you permanently.”
She looked up at him. “I’m trying to change your mind.”
He fought against the distraction of her crystalline green eyes. He knew she thought this was simple. It was anything but.
“It won’t work,” he told her.
“We don’t know that yet.”
“One of us does. Honestly, Mila, save your strength. You can’t talk me into it, and you can’t seduce me into it.”
She shut off the tap. “I don’t want to get a job by seducing you or anyone else.”
He lifted his brow in disbelief. “Then why did you try it this morning?”
“It was a lark. I was curious to see if it would work.”
“It didn’t,” he lied. “I didn’t give you a job.” He could at least cling to that.
She handed him the bottle. “I’d have turned it down anyway.”
“Now who’s lying?”
She seemed to think about that. “You’re right. I’m lying. I’d have taken it. Sad, isn’t it?”
“That your moral fortitude isn’t all that you’d like it to be?”
He doubted many people could make that claim. He sure couldn’t.
Drake let out a cry. Instead of answering Troy’s question, Mila handed him the bottle and headed back to the dining room table.
Troy moved the baby across his left arm as he walked, putting the bottle into Drake’s mouth, wiggling it so that he latched on. It didn’t feel as awkward as it had the first few times Troy had fed him.
“You’re not going to answer, are you?” he asked her.
The Baby Contract Page 6