“Two weeks starting yesterday, ostensibly to finish healing.” She scowled. “I’m really supposed to be making up my mind about a desk job. I can call in and extend if I need to. I’ve got two more weeks on the books.”
“Take one, just to be safe. Gear?”
“The usual.”
He nodded. He’d take care of the unusual. He retrieved his field cap from the counter. “I’ve got a couple of buddies I can look up. I should be able to arrange a country outside the States for us to pre-stage in.” Somewhere he could obtain the unusual…no questions asked.
“No.”
“Eve—”
She shook her head. “This is a joint op from the start or it doesn’t go down at all. That means I handle the actual insertion and extraction, if it comes to that.” Her brow lifted. “Unless you have a problem with me at the stick?”
Given the circumstances, he figured she had the right to ask. “Not at all. But I am curious as to how you plan on obtaining a chopper on such short notice, along with a pilot willing to risk his or her neck.”
She turned the photo around so he could get a better look. Five women in dress uniforms stood arm-in-arm, grinning into the camera on what was probably commissioning day. The founding members of the Sisters-in-Arms. He studied the three faces he didn’t recognize and placed his bet on the woman on the far right. She was closest to Eve’s height, but as dark as Eve was light. Definitely Hispanic.
He didn’t remember her name.
She tapped the woman in dress whites. “Meet Anna Shale. Lieutenant, U.S. Navy. She’s half Panamanian. She spent half her childhood there. I thought Anna was still in San Diego, but she’s not. When I got home, I called to tell her about Carrie and learned she’d been transferred to Panama. Temporary duty as a military attaché with the embassy in Panama City. If I remember correctly, Anna has family there, too. I’ll know more by tonight, including how much she can help. I’ll call you.”
“Agreed.”
He donned his field cap. If this was a go, he had a lot to do. Better get started. He was amazed at how easily they fell into sync with one another as Eve turned to follow him to the front door. It was as if they’d never left the jungle.
It should have scared him, but it didn’t.
In fact he was so at ease with her, he didn’t think twice about bending down to pluck one of the daisies that had survived its trip to the cold concrete on the opposite side of the door. It wasn’t until he held it out to her that he realized his mistake. He held his breath as she stared at the flower, knowing full well she, too, felt the sudden undertow that swirled around them. What if she didn’t accept it?
What if she did?
He’d meant for the bunch of flowers to comfort her. To help ease her pain over losing Carrie. To ease the guilt he knew she still bore. What did this single daisy mean?
He had no idea.
Hell, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all, himself.
He might have told himself all the way to that blasted floral shop that his sole purpose had been to ease Eve’s pain, but he was lying. Yes, he’d wanted to cheer her up. But he’d also wanted to see her. Needed to. Maybe then he’d be able to get that kiss out of his head, to get her out.
He’d failed.
As much as he should not want this woman, he did.
More than he’d ever wanted another.
Her hand came up, only to halt in midair. He swallowed his disappointment as she glanced up at him and flushed. While the color warmed her skin, her wariness and reluctance were painfully obvious. To his relief, she reached out again, her fingers brushing his as she took the daisy from his hand.
“Thank you.”
His breath hitched, caught somewhere between confusion and desire as the petals skimmed the pulse beating at the base of her neck. He cleared his throat.
“Sanitize everything.”
She blinked. But then she nodded briskly.
Relief flooded him as he realized that she’d slipped into sync with him once again as they returned to familiar, military ground. It was for the best.
They were soldiers.
Soldiers about to depart on a private, unauthorized mission. If they were caught inside enemy territory, they’d damned well better have picked their gear and clothing clean, removing anything and everything that could tag them as U.S. Army—or worse, give away their individual identities. It was the only way to ensure that no one knew they were ever there.
Whether or not they made it out alive.
Chapter 6
T he room screamed honeymoon suite.
The doorknob slipped from Eve’s jet-lagged fingers, clicking shut behind her as shock reverberated down her spine. She stared at the cozy alcove for two tucked neatly into the far corner of the room, the silver champagne bucket—bottle already on ice—resting atop an accent table beside the cherry armoire, the matching intricately carved king-sized four-poster that dominated the room. There was no doubt about it. This was a bridal chamber if there ever was one. Even the mosquito netting cascading down from the twelve-foot ceiling had been spun so finely it resembled a wedding veil.
What on earth was going on?
When Anna had offered to make all the arrangements on her end in Panama, Eve had clearly told her sorority sister to make the hotel reservations for separate rooms—twice.
Eve stared at the key card in her hand.
This had to be the right room.
If it wasn’t, the magnetic strip wouldn’t have deactivated the door’s lock. Her gaze slid to the white eyelet bedspread and pristine heart-shaped pillows that completed the virginal effect. God only knew what Bishop would think when he arrived. While they’d managed to schedule the same departing flight from Nashville earlier that morning, they’d been forced to take separate, connecting flights from Houston this afternoon to Panama City. The flights should have arrived within minutes of each other. Unfortunately, hers had been delayed. Maybe Bishop’s had been, too. Eve spun around. Maybe she could change the rooms before he—
Too late.
She’d been so stunned she hadn’t noticed the sound of running water until that moment, much less the suitcase sitting atop the valet chair beside the bathroom door. Both were open. The suitcase, all the way.
The door, roughly two feet.
It was far enough for her to catch a glimpse of Rick as he shaved the last, narrow strip of shaving cream from his neck. He tossed the disposable razor to the back of the marble sink before twisting the left knob, reducing the amount of steam rising up from the flow of water. The muscles of his back rippled as he leaned over to splash a handful of water onto his face. She stood there, seared to the spot by the unexpected rush of desire that swept through her.
Curiosity fanned the flames as he straightened.
If the man’s chest was half as impressive as his back…
Reality slammed into her, cold and hard, as he reached for his gray dress shirt and pulled it on. What was she thinking, standing here, ogling this man? They were returning to Córdoba for answers, not to engage in a bout of steaming jungle sex. But before she could clear her throat and make her presence known, he glanced into the oval mirror.
His gaze met hers.
She swore his fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. It must have been her imagination, because he snagged his tie from the towel rod, looping it around his neck as he turned smoothly about. He pushed the door wide as he stepped into the bedroom.
“We’re late.”
“I know.” She swallowed her lingering shock and crossed the room to dump her suitcase on the bed. “My plane sat on the runway in Houston for almost an hour and then I got stuck in customs on this end.”
His hands froze in the middle of buttoning his left cuff. “Why?”
“Relax. Everything went fine.” She slipped off her sandals, staring at the pile of pillows at the headboard as she dug her toes into the carpet. What she wouldn’t give to crawl up under the covers and sleep for a week. Rick ha
d finished buttoning his cuffs and was tucking his shirt into the waist of his black trousers as she turned around. “The ID your buddy dropped off didn’t even raise a brow. It was more a case of screwing with the little woman—or trying to.”
He frowned as he knotted his tie. “I told you we should have waited for another flight. A woman with your looks was bound to attract attention in this part of the world.”
Her looks?
From the way he’d gruffly ordered her to eat before he’d left her apartment yesterday, she didn’t think he thought she was capable of attracting anyone’s attention, much less holding it. Especially his.
“Blond.”
“Of course.” She squelched her disappointment as she turned to unzip her suitcase. Hadn’t he as much as told her in the jungle all those weeks ago that she wasn’t his type?
Yes, they’d shared a kiss.
Okay, one hell of a soul-torching kiss.
So what?
She wasn’t some naive kid. Adrenaline did funny things to people. So did grief and shock. They’d been riding a roller coaster forged of all three for a good twelve hours by the time he’d covered her lips with his. If the man kissed her again right here, right now, she doubted the contact would carry half the electricity their first kiss had.
Not that he’d want to.
But for a single, blinding moment yesterday she’d thought differently. As he’d held out that daisy at the door to her apartment, she could have sworn he was considering it, considering them. But then it was gone.
The flower had been a peace offering, nothing more.
To her surprise, the disappointment cut deeply.
“Eve?”
The daisy disintegrated from her view as she blinked. Her suitcase assumed its place. She whirled about. “I know, I know. We’re late. You’ve seen Anna’s picture. The restaurant is supposed to be across the street from the main lobby. Go on ahead. I’ll meet you in ten minutes, fifteen tops.”
His brow shot up at her rumpled T-shirt and jeans.
“I promise. Now go—and hurry. I spoke to Anna during my layover. Something’s come up. She can’t stay long.”
His scar furrowed as he frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but it has nothing to do with us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she told me.” She knew he wasn’t comfortable letting Anna handle the arrangements, but this was ridiculous. Not to mention unwarranted. “Dammit, Bishop, we don’t have time to revisit twenty questions. Will you please leave?”
She held her breath as his gaze captured hers. Probed.
He finally nodded.
She waited until the bedroom door closed before she returned to her suitcase and that god-awful bed, a bed that had obviously been designed with sex and not sleep in mind. A bed so spacious, she would be obligated to suggest they share it. She had no idea if Bishop would agree. If she was lucky, Anna would be waiting for them with their supplies and gear already good to go—before she was forced to find out.
“You’re sleeping with her.”
Rick jerked his gaze from the retreating waiter and fused it to the woman seated across from him. He hadn’t even had a chance to pull his chair up to the table and get comfortable. Just as well. Anna Shale’s statement had killed any chance of that. He masked the suspicion that had been eating at him since he discovered he and Eve had been booked into one of Panama’s premiere honeymoon suites and reached for the bottle of spring water waiting beside his goblet. He raised his brow as he twisted off the foil cap.
“I beg your pardon?”
To his surprise, the woman flushed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that crudely. It’s just, we don’t have a lot of time. I don’t have a lot of time. But I do have a lot I need to tell you—and Eve.” She glanced past his shoulder and scanned the room behind him.
Suspicion flared again.
She might want him to think she was searching for Eve, but she wasn’t. For one thing, that dark, tense gaze had shifted to his right, away from the double doors that marked the entrance to Enrique’s restaurant and well into range of the smaller doors of the connecting bar.
Who was she looking for? And what was she so afraid of?
Because she was afraid.
Though Anna was actively working to conceal her fear, it was there. It was more than the fact that she’d bypassed the chair the waiter had offered in order to take the seat at the far side of the table instead—the seat that offered the choicest view of the restaurant behind him—it was the way she’d taken it. Like a cop or an undercover agent, or an operative on or off the job. Not like a woman about to be reunited with an old college friend.
And then there was the matter of her bodyguard—a local—looming not quite discreetly two tables away.
Military attaché, his ass.
Something was going down and it had nothing to do with Eve or him. Sorority sister or not, he settled into his leather chair, determined to find out what it was before he entrusted his safety and Eve’s to this woman. “Eve will be arriving shortly. Until then, why don’t you save time and fill me in? You can start with your comment…and that room.”
Her gaze swung to his.
He knew immediately she hadn’t found whoever she’d been searching for.
“It was the best I could come up with on short notice.”
“Best?”
“Cover.” Her attention slipped past his shoulder for the briefest of seconds, then returned. “I’m assuming you two would rather conceal your intentions.”
He nodded. “Of course.” He was definitely in favor of protecting their careers if at all possible.
“I thought so.” She slipped a strand of dark hair into the loose twist at the base of her neck and leaned into the table, for the first time affording him her complete attention since they’d met in the foyer. She lowered her voice until it skirted below the strains of the classical guitar floating out from the dance floor in the corner of the room. “It’ll go down like this. You and Eve came down here for one reason and one reason alone. Hot, passionate sex. I want your hands all over her from the second she arrives. Touch her, kiss her, dance with her, whatever it takes. By the time you two head back to your room, we need every person in this restaurant to believe you both want nothing more than the chance to hole yourselves up on that bed and spend the next two weeks setting the sheets on fire. Can you handle that?”
Handle it?
His temperature shot up sixty degrees just thinking about it. It had been far too long since he’d had sex.
He swallowed firmly. “Done. Why?”
“Because someone will be in your room. As you two leave by the maintenance elevator minutes before 0400 tomorrow morning, he’ll be arriving. The first thing he’ll do is hang up the Do Not Disturb sign. It’ll stay there the entire time you’re gone. He’ll order for two and eat for two, leaving the empty bottles of wine and champagne and the trays outside the door along with enough used towels for the maid to believe you and Eve had sex in the tub at least twice a day.”
Eve Paris wearing nothing but bubbles.
His temp shot up another sixty degrees.
He bypassed the thick green goblet beside his linen napkin and took a long pull on the water bottle instead.
It didn’t help.
Who was this woman? And how the hell had she managed to plan—and staff—this? He was about to ask when Anna shot to her feet, her smile mile-wide and downright beaming.
“Eve!”
Rick came to his feet, turned—and stiffened. He didn’t know which stunned him more. That Eve had managed to sneak up on Anna despite her succession of furtive glances, or the absolute shock that rocked through him at seeing Eve in a dress and heels for the very first time.
Dress, hell.
That black sheath Anna wore was a dress.
The stretchy scrap of flesh-colored fabric Eve had donned was little more than a backless slip with
sleeves. It didn’t cover her, it clung to her, finding curves and dips that a day before he’d never have believed existed. Even her face had filled out since he’d seen her in the hotel room—though he suspected that was an illusion drawn and shaded in by the touch of makeup she’d applied to her eyes and cheeks and the pink gloss she’d slicked across her lips.
“You look gorgeous.”
For a split second, he was afraid he’d breathed the words aloud. A moment later he realized that by God’s grace, he hadn’t. They’d come from Anna as she threw her arms around Eve and hugged her as tightly as he’d wanted to the moment Eve had opened her apartment door the day before. The memory of her response slapped him down hard.
He might be experiencing an intense and thoroughly inappropriate case of lust, but it was an act.
Or so Eve would have to believe.
Determined to get the worst of the charade over with, he stepped up to the women and reached out, slipping his hands around Eve’s as she stepped away from Anna’s arms. He pulled her smoothly into his own arms and leaned down to press his lips intimately to her temple. Before she could flinch, he slid his mouth to her ear, his breath much too hot for his own sanity as he whispered, “Relax. We’re lovers.”
“We’re what?”
At least she hadn’t shouted.
He spun her gently around and guided her into the leather chair to the right of his. Anna sat as well, leaning into Eve’s opposite ear as she quickly filled her in on the plan. He knew she’d reached the crucial part when Eve stiffened. Her eyes met his in total and almost emasculating disbelief.
“You honestly think people are going to believe we flew down here just so we could hole up for a marathon session of sex?”
“By the time we leave tonight, they will.” He covered her hand with his, smoothly linking their fingers. “Now relax.” He punctuated the command with a quick squeeze before nudging their hands beneath the table. Unfortunately, their bodies were so close, his fingers came to rest on her thigh, not his.
Her naked thigh.
Logically, he knew the dress still covered her body because this close up he could see the flecks of green and burnished gold that had been woven into the fabric. Unfortunately, he couldn’t feel it—and his hand was damned high up on her thigh. Which meant the hem of her dress had ridden higher.
Crossing the Line Page 9