green eyes, goddamn chiseled jaw. She let out a groan but immediately stretched, trying to make it seem natural, and not a reaction to the six-pack and the shoulders-to-hips ratio.
He tried to fight a grin, not very convincingly, then took a few more steps toward the big dresser. “The bathroom’s all yours. I showered last night.”
Angie threw the covers back and swung her legs over, determined to get her act together. What she needed was to talk to Liz, who couldn’t have picked a worse time than yesterday to be incommunicado.
“You gonna sleep in your clothes every night?” Ryan asked. “I suppose it wouldn’t blow the gig, but I imagine it won’t be very comfortable.”
“Yeah, no, it was late,” she said, keeping her head down as she went to get her suitcase. Why wasn’t the room bigger? Like the size of Montana? “At least the room’s nice.”
“So is the minibar.”
She didn’t look up at him. “I don’t think the budget’s going to cover twenty-dollar beers.” The snick of the pull handle on her suitcase seemed alarmingly loud, but then everything since she’d agreed to this … situation had felt excessive.
To give Ryan credit, he was being extremely civil. She’d been worried he’d be in her face about the change in plans. She’d also imagined him very, very pissed. But then, they were officially on the job, and working for the government made acceptance of the absurd a necessity.
Ryan was a good agent. He was dedicated. More than that, he was smart. He wasn’t as concerned with rules and regs as the brass would like, but that wasn’t a big deal, not to her. He got the job done. He could be pleasant. Nice, even. He’d never been anything but professional, even after they’d had that brief … misunderstanding at the Halloween party. Hell, he’d moved on without missing a beat.
It was as a man that he failed spectacularly.
No, that wasn’t fair. He had different values than her own, that’s all. It wasn’t up to her to judge someone’s sexual practices. If he wanted to sleep with the entire female population of Los Angeles, it was his own business.
She made sure she didn’t look too anxious as she made her way to the bathroom, but slamming the door might have given him a clue. When the back of her head bumped the door she realized that she’d done nothing but behave like a child since she’d opened her eyes. Not moving, not looking at him, avoiding his touch. The man didn’t actually have cooties, and she would eventually have to meet his gaze. Touch him. Act like a professional. Act like his loving wife.
The first thing she did was turn on the shower. The second thing was to pull her iPad out of her suitcase and turn it on to Skype.
Liz answered the call in seconds. “I got your message. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” she asked, and Angie could see her redheaded friend perched at her breakfast counter, still wearing her Nike running gear. In front of her was a glass of orange juice and a bowl, probably oatmeal.
“I’m already in Vegas,” Angie said, keeping her voice low. She didn’t want Ryan to hear, God no. “With Ryan Vail.”
“Holy crap, Angie. Did you not have a choice?”
“Yes and no. I mean, how could I tell Palmer I didn’t want to step in? The whole case would’ve gone down the drain.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The job.”
“But …”
“I know!” Angie said. “God, why weren’t you around yesterday? I have to sleep in the same bed with him.”
“Oh, sweetie, that is the least of your worries. Do you know what tantric massages are like?”
Angie closed her eyes. “Stop it. That’s not helpful.”
“Well, I’m not sure what I can do from here.” Liz lifted the iPad and brought it up until her face almost filled the screen. “You can do this. I know you can do this, because you are fierce and you are a woman to be reckoned with. Besides, Ryan isn’t about to cross any lines with you. In fact, I’d bet a million he’s going to go overboard to make sure nothing hinky could even be implied.”
“I wish I could fit in a run,” Angie said. “I’m exhausted, but I’m wired.”
“Find time later. What do you have to do right now?”
Taking a deep breath, Angie let her friend’s steady voice calm her down. “Shower. Dress like Angie Ebsen. Coordinate our stories so we don’t contradict each other. Go to the first session. Introductions, filling in forms. Then lunch, and after that, there’s some kind of bonding ritual. God, Liz, a bonding ritual.”
“Don’t think about anything past lunch. Introductions are a piece of cake. You know the backstory, you’re expected to be nervous. You’ll be fantastic.” Liz smiled broadly, and damn if that didn’t help, as well.
“Now go get clean, then put on your disguise. Break it down like your training schedule. I’ll be in the field, but you can call me during the day. I shouldn’t be late, though, so we can Skype tonight, okay?”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“No problemo. Later.”
The screen went dark, Angie clicked off the tablet and stepped into the shower in no time. She’d already solved her first problem. No way she could have lasted the week with people calling her Jeannie. Thankfully Brian had thought of a way out of that little mess. Angie would be her middle name, the one she preferred. The computer guys had woven it into all the paperwork and background references.
The story of the Ebsens would remain intact. Unfortunately the team had used a lot of Jeannie’s personal history for Mrs. Ebsen’s childhood, and because Jeannie and Ryan had known each other so long, no time had been wasted filling in all those details.
Now those blanks would, by necessity, have to be replaced with Angie’s past. And Ryan needed to give her the Cliff’s Notes version of his history, as well.
With the shower running, she stripped, grabbed her toiletries and used her time to visualize herself as Angie Ebsen. She imagined the way she’d carry herself as someone wealthy, who had high-level expectations about service and general conversation. She could see herself playing the part, she really could, up until the point where she had to act as though she was in love with Ryan.
God, this was going to be tricky. Even in her own head, all she could picture was the humiliation of that single horrifying moment if, no, not if … when Ryan figured out that she still wanted him. How he’d been the man in her fantasies for more nights than she cared to admit.
She stared down at the unbelievably expensive engagement and wedding rings on the third finger of her left hand. She was so screwed.
RYAN REALIZED HE’D BEEN staring at the bathroom door for a while and that he might want to move before Angie finished with her shower. He shook his head as he turned back to the dresser to get ready for their first day of marriage.
He supposed they’d have to talk about it now. It being the distance they’d been maintaining for over a year. The polite nods without eye contact,
