by Jo Leigh
The two of them walked down the winding pathway, between buildings and manicured lawns, everything oddly green for February, for a desert. “No specific time, and no pressure. It was an open invitation,” Ryan said, his smile gone now that they were out of anyone’s sight. “But I won’t feel comfortable seeing anyone until we work a few things out.”
She slowed her step. “I’m sorry,” she said, at the exact time he said the same two words. Stopping completely, she looked at him. “Why are you sorry?”
He glanced around as if searching for the person Angie was talking to, or maybe just to avoid meeting her gaze. “I was incredibly out of character. No way you missed that.”
“I was the one— I froze, I was awkward. Everything we’d talked about went out the window.”
Ryan shook his head and got them moving again. “Okay, so we both sucked. What are we going to do about it?”
“Talk some more. Tell jokes. I don’t know... Maybe talk about what we were like growing up?”
His brow furrowed. “That’s... Let’s think some more.”
A waiter pushing a room service cart came at them, and Ryan tugged her onto the grass so the man could pass. He put both hands on her shoulders while they waited, and all the reasons she’d been horrible during the intimacy exercise rose to the surface in great neon letters, along with the very obvious solution.
The path clear once more, Angie covered Ryan’s hands with her own, keeping him behind her. “We need to kiss,” she said, knowing exactly what she was getting herself into. She’d have to put on the most durable armor in her mental wardrobe to pull this off. To kiss him until it felt right. Until it was as natural as breathing.
She tensed, waiting for his response. But he didn’t say anything. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. Probably a good thing, because the more she thought about it the more her belly clenched, and that wasn’t helping at all.
To get to a comfort level would take a considerable amount of kissing. And touching. Could she really handle that? Of course she could... She had to, or risk disgracing herself, him, the entire team and the Bureau. The one thing she had on this job, no matter what, had been her self-confidence. If she blew this because of some ridiculous crush on an impossible man, she would lose far more than a job in D.C.
His hands squeezed her shoulders, sending an unwelcome shiver through her body. “You’re right.”
“About what?”
“Kissing.”
The panic returned, stealing her breath and freezing her body. Thank God he was still behind her and she didn’t have to look him in the eye.
He hesitated, then turned her around to face him. His gaze locked on hers, his hands settling on her waist. “We have to get rid of this awkwardness between us or we need to pack up and go home.”
“I agree. Totally. Of course.” She forced a smile, casually placed a palm on his chest, as if kissing him was no big deal, and hoped he didn’t see her pulse leaping from the side of her neck. His heart rate wasn’t exactly coasting on idle, so that helped.
“Jeannie and I did it.”
“Did what?”
Ryan smiled, probably because her voice had climbed three octaves. “Practiced kissing.”
“Really?”
“Yep, until we could do it without laughing.”
“How long did it take?”
“Um, far longer than either of us liked.”
“Ah.” She cleared her throat. “We’d better get to the room, then.”
“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t move.
Someone else, a young woman clutching a book, passed them, but that’s not why Angie hadn’t lowered her hand.
“Just to be clear,” he said, “we’re talking about kissing, right? Just kissing?”
She felt a blush flower on her cheeks. “Yes. There’s no reason for us to change any of the ground rules. Kissing. Touching. Until we’re okay with it—” Her breath caught. “You and Jeannie, you didn’t practice doing—”
“No. Jesus.” Ryan loosened his grip. “No. No.”
“Right. Of course not.” Angie stepped back on the path, and took hold of his arm as they continued the trip to the room, reminding herself twice to ease her grasp. With every step she repeated her goal to shake this absurd thing for Ryan and shoved away all other thought.
When he had his card key out, breathing became an issue as her heart pounded faster and faster. This was it. The moment of truth.
As soon as the door closed behind Ryan, she turned, ready as she was going to get.
But Ryan wasn’t even looking at her. He pulled out a slick gadget that looked a lot like a cell phone but was in fact a nifty little electronic sensor.
Angie couldn’t decide if she was grateful that Ryan could still think about protocol or if she should be insulted. Given how close she was to an arrhythmia, she decided she would be grateful and use this moment as a reminder that this kissing business was exactly that: business.
Ryan walked the complete perimeter of the room using the scanner that was the most sophisticated frequency detector in the world, disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then went to the dresser to make sure no one had tinkered with the Ebsen laptop. Finally he joined her by the door, and up close, she could see he wasn’t quite as composed as she’d imagined. “I’m getting a scotch,” he said, as if she’d needed more proof than the panic in his eyes.
Her whole body sagged in relief, but before she let herself ask for a drink of her own, the stakes flashed through her mind like a sign from on high. She grabbed Ryan’s shoulder, pushed herself against his body and pulled him straight down into the kiss of her life.
5
THE VELVET SHOCK OF HER mouth on his sent Ryan stumbling back against the wall. She’d caught him off guard, nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. But he caught on quickly, abandoning every thought but to read her cues and give her what she needed.
He touched the tops of her arms, and while she didn’t exactly jerk completely away, her body stiffened with tension. However this ended, it had to begin with feeling comfortable and safe.
Keeping his hands gentle and his mouth closed, he consciously relaxed. It wasn’t a piece of cake. The idea that he was kissing Angie was messing with him something fierce. All the carefully constructed barriers that had helped him keep his distance had been crumbling since last night, and together with the “safety” position and now this, he felt defenseless. But he couldn’t simply let go and have at her. She wasn’t a one-night stand. He knew Angie’s last name, and a whole lot more, and he wasn’t about to call the shots.
She pulled back from him, not away. Just enough to breathe for a minute. To whisper, “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Course you can. We can. Use your imagination. Who’s your favorite actor?”
“What?”
They were so close together that with every word came a soft gust of her breath. He recognized the scent of wintergreen breath mints. “Who’s the hottest guy you can think of?”
The way she blushed was startling. She must really like whatever actor she was thinking of, but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t want her embarrassed. “All right. Forget that. Did you ever have an unrequited crush?”
Now she turned her head, and the tension of a minute ago had been nothing. What kind of a past did Angie have? “An ex-boyfriend?”
“Yes,” she said, so excitedly he jumped. “I have an ex-boyfriend. From my first year of college.”
Because she was looking at him again, Ryan forced down his grin. He risked squeezing her arms a little more tightly, and yeah, okay, now they were getting somewhere. She wasn’t exactly in a Zenlike state of calm, but she was a hell of a lot better. “Close your eyes,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. “Picture...?”
“Steve.”
“Steve,” he repeated. “How you felt when he kissed you, and how good it was.” He pulled her closer, waited until the little furrow on her forehead disappeared. Then he kissed her.
This time, her lips weren’t pressed together so tightly air couldn’t have escaped if it tried. Her hands, which had gripped his shirt so firmly she’d nearly ripped the seam, had softened, and the energy that had been coursing through her body had shifted from electrical fence to a strong buzz.
Then her tongue swept across his lower lip, just a tease, a taste of what came next, and oh, hell, in his quest to make things easier for her, he’d forgotten that he was the one actually kissing Angie.
He probably should have stopped things right there. All she’d have to do was keep imagining he was this safe and comfy ex from college. Instead, he moved his hands to her back, tilted his head until their mouths were a perfect fit and kissed her like he’d wanted to for a very long time.
* * *
ONE SECOND, IT WAS STEVE on her lips and it was all so simple. The next, she wanted to climb Ryan like a tree and never let go.
Her moan would have been embarrassing if she’d had any brain cells left, but what he was doing with his tongue and how his large hands were stroking her back as if he couldn’t get enough had fried all her synapses, leaving her helpless to do anything but kiss him back.
Those hands of his had reached the curve just above her behind. He paused and it felt important to tell him to continue, which she did by thrusting her hips forward.
Message received, and good grief he grabbed each cheek, pulled her close and oh, he was clearly aroused. The more they rocked against each other the thicker and hotter his erection became.
Considering she was Kegel squeezing to beat the band and panting into his mouth as if she’d just finished a marathon, she couldn’t exactly complain.
God, he could kiss. He should quit the FBI immediately and become a professional— She lurched back, so roughly they had to take a few steps to catch their balance. He’d let go of her, and she...she remembered who he was and who she was and, “Oh, my.”
Ryan, still obviously hard and flustered, cleared his throat. His lips glistened. “Well, that wasn’t too bad,” he said.
A burst of laughter escaped before she could stop it.
“It wasn’t,” he said defensively. “For a first time, given the circumstances, we did okay. We learned some things.”
Things? Like, say, that he was the hottest guy she could think of? That Ryan was her unrequited crush? As if more proof was needed, she’d practically dry-humped the guy into coming. She made a sound. A sort of croak. Definitely not a word. But she couldn’t look at him. She turned around and stared at the wall.
He very sweetly didn’t comment on it. “Listen,” he said, “we’re two healthy adults with fully functioning hormones. It would have been more surprising if we hadn’t responded so, uh, enthusiastically.”
“Is that what happened to you and Jeannie?”
“What?”
Angie spun back. “When you two kissed?”
“We didn’t...” He shook his head. “No. It wasn’t like that.”
Well, that was good, because it would have been creepy if they had. “You know what? I’m really feeling tight from sitting so much all day. I think I’ll go for a run.”
“A run? I thought we were going to keep kissing until we felt comfortable.”
“Yeah, that was the plan, but you’re right. For a first time, we did great, and the next time we’ll do better, and we’re probably not going to have to kiss in front of anyone, anyway. So I might as well do a few miles....”
“What about drinks at the casino?”
“You should go. Tell them I was tired. Which is true. I am tired. Unless you think it’s important for the case—”
“No,” he said, before the last word had time to settle.
The urge to look down was so strong she thought something in her brain might actually break. At the thought, she glanced. Quickly. His erection was still there. She could only imagine the kind of self-discipline it took to speak to her so calmly.
“The only reason we’d go is to make our cover stronger,” he said, “but I’m thinking we’ll skip it tonight.”
Angie made a break for it. She pulled open her drawer, nearly yanking it out of the dresser. But she got her running gear, including socks, after only three tries. “Great. I’ll just—”
She hurried to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. All she could think about was getting out of this hotel room, pounding the pavement until she could figure this damn thing out. There had been a single moment when things had gone to hell. Before she came back to their room, back to the bed they shared, she vowed to find the line between kissing him as part of the job and kissing him as the fulfillment of her fantasies, and stick to the proper side.
* * *
RYAN HAD TRIED TO WATCH television, but he couldn’t disconnect from kissing Angie. He’d thought taking care of himself in the shower would give him enough relief that he could think again, but he couldn’t get any kind of distance.
She’d been gone half an hour. He supposed he could eat, but he should wait for her to come back because they were supposed to be in love and recommitting themselves to their marriage. They were supposed to be a lot of things—professionals, for one. Rational adults, another.
He clicked off the TV and almost threw the remote against the wall, but instead he grabbed his gym gear. After he’d changed, he left a note on the bed, then he and his towel headed for the fitness center. Like Angie, he thought better when he was doing something physical, and the hotel had a lot of decent equipment. He’d pass on the free weights, but the machines would give him a good sweat.
The path meandered, as did all paths in this resort, except for the one to the casino. It reminded him of how they set up grocery stores, forcing people to walk by the expensive ticket items in order to buy the milk. The casinos paid for everything in this town, and it never ceased to amaze him that those damn slot machines were in every gas station and supermarket.
As he rounded the curve of the fitness center building, he heard familiar voices. Tonya and Ira along with another couple, maybe Luke and Erica? Ryan was in no mood to join in what sounded like a jovial chat, so he stayed where he was, moving a little closer to the building where it was darker.
Eavesdropping was something of a relief. It was work related and he didn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. There was Tonya pimping her early morning yoga workouts, and Luke inferring that it was somehow girly. Jesus, the man was a Neanderthal. Ryan gave Luke’s marriage a year, tops.
Goodbyes came shortly after, and the three of them, everyone but Ira, walked right past Ryan, who decided to stay where he was until he could see what the therapist was up to. He’d probably left for his room, but Ryan gave it a minute, just in case.
“A fickle lady,” Ira said, but his voice got soft at the end as he spoke into a cell phone. Doppler effect; he was walking. No, pacing, because there was more and his voice grew louder. “...dime to win. On the second, I want number four to win, six to place. Third, gimme two to win. Fifth, three to win.”
Ryan moved closer to the edge of the building, keeping himself against the wall. He’d been to enough races to understand that Ira was placing bets on the horses, and that the dime he’d mentioned was a thousand dollars. So his bets for that particular track were in the five to six thousand dollar range.
“Yeah. Not tonight. Tomorrow, early. Seven-thirty. Okay.”
Ira’s voice had grown closer, and the last thing Ryan wanted was to be caught skulking. He hurried back to the path and moved forward with his head down, almost running into the man.
“Excuse me,” Ira said, holding his hands out in front of him.
They would have touched if Ryan had taken one more step. Instead, Ryan did the pardon-me shuffle as he smiled. “Sorry about that.”
“On your way to the fitness center?” Ira asked.
Ryan nodded. “Angie’s catching a run, so I’m gonna grab a quick workout before dinner.”
“Good for you. I should do more of that myself. But not now. La
te for a private session.”
Ryan nodded as the older man walked away, his steps quick, his hands fisted in his pockets. Why in hell would a man staying at a casino with a major sports book place bets with a bookie? Only one thing Ryan could think of, and that was secrecy. Ira wasn’t playing for peanuts, but there was nothing in the intel already gathered that indicated he had a gambling problem.
That opened up a whole new arena to investigate. How was he financing his hobby? Did anyone else on the Intimate At Last team know he was a gambler? Was the blackmail his source of funds?
Ryan pulled his own cell phone out of his left pocket, double checking that it was his personal iPhone. Ryan Ebsen’s cell was an older-model Nokia that was simpler to clone. He speed dialed Jeannie. It was afterhours, or almost, but that meant she’d be out of court. Probably at home having a great dinner with the family, not worrying about kissing people and inappropriate erections.
“What’s up?”
“New information.”
“Okay, wait a sec.”
Ryan heard her yell for her husband although her voice was muffled. There was a discussion that lasted so long he’d made it inside the gym and had staked out a private corner where he could see all entrances and exits. There were only three people in the place, and he didn’t know any of them.
“I’m back,” she said, finally.
“I forgot what I was going to tell you.”
“Shut up. You try having a family and being a secret agent at the same time, then come bitch at me.”
“Secret agent?”
“According to my children, yes.”
“According to me, too, double-oh-seven and three-quarters. Listen, I overheard Ira Bridges making a bet to a bookie. I know Santa Anita’s running, but the track doesn’t matter. The fact that he was betting several thousand dollars was interesting, however.”
“Really? Oh, that’s good. That’s very...motivational.”