mission.
What they needed was to be all over each other. Just shy of obsessively on his part, a little less so on hers. Jeannie and he had been A-OK with that plan. They’d practiced until they’d been able to stop cracking up with each vaguely sexual touch. But with Angie he faced the opposite problem.
Every touch was sexual with nothing vague about it. Hell, the slightest brush of Angie’s skin had caused a chain reaction that left him unsettled and heading toward hard. Thank God he wasn’t a teenager anymore, or he’d have had to walk around the office with a textbook handy to cover himself. As it was, he always managed to make a quick exit or distract himself long enough to settle down, but that wouldn’t be a viable option when they were in public here.
He pulled out a pair of khakis and a striped polo shirt, selected, along with the rest of his wardrobe, by a personal shopper who specialized in outfitting guys who made fifty times Ryan’s yearly salary. Even his boxer briefs and socks were ridiculously expensive, and he paid attention to his clothes.
The sound of the shower registered and, of course, his brain went straight to a very detailed picture of Angie naked with water running down her chest, a drop hesitating on the edge of her rigid nipple, streaking down her stomach only to get caught in the trimmed thatch of dark hair that signaled the approach to his happy place. Never mind that he hadn’t actually seen her naked. He had a good eye and could connect the dots.
And right there was the crux of the problem. The big, elephant-size problem.
In order to make the sting operation a success, they would have to break every boundary they’d very carefully set in place, consciously or not, at the risk of his libido overtaking his good sense.
Angie was not the kind of woman who would make exceptions for special circumstances. Even if they hadn’t been colleagues, she wasn’t his type of woman at all.
Physically? No question. She was a wet dream even when she wasn’t in the shower. But he suspected she wanted someone she could count on. Someone who would be there for the long haul. A man who would be an excellent husband and father. A stand-up kind of guy to share her life with.
He wanted a woman who didn’t particularly care who he was, as long as there was a bed and he could keep up his end of the bargain.
So not only were he and Angie required to mix business with pleasure for an entire week, they already knew that getting too close was playing with fire. Hell, all they’d done was consider, for like five minutes, hooking up, and they’d both backed off so fast they’d left skid marks.
This arrangement did not bode well. For either of them.
As soon as he was finished dressing, he speed-dialed Jeannie.
“I was going to call you.”
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees. “How is this gonna work?”
“She can do it,” Jeannie said, in her I’m being serious voice. “We spoke last night and she’s completely committed to getting the job done. Just spend as much time as you can this morning going over your personal histories. Between the two of you, you’ll make it happen. I doubt there’s going to be anything heavy on the first day.”
“We can still postpone this. A family emergency or something. Before they meet her.”
Jeannie’s silence had him wishing he’d kept that last thought to himself. She didn’t know about the thing between him and Angie. Didn’t need to. No one did.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jeannie said finally. “Delaying could blow the whole sting. We’ve all worked too hard to get this far. Sometimes we’ve just got to roll with the punches. I figured you better than anyone could deal with that.”
“I know, I know. You’re right.”
Again she hesitated. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Nope. Nothing. I’m good.”
“Okay. You two look great together. You’re the perfect bait. Hey, get the evidence we need to proceed and you can come on home. Easy as pie.”
“Jeannie?”
“What?”
“You can shove that pie where the sun don’t shine.”
“Why, Ryan Vail, I never.”
“Yes, you have.”
Her laugh made him even sorrier she wasn’t here. But their conversation told him he’d better get his act together fast. “The trial going okay?”
“Same crap, different day. I’m really sorry, kiddo. I would have been there if I could.”
“I know.”
“Call me tonight, let me know what I’m missing.”
“If I can, I will.” He disconnected, shoved his phone in his pocket, hoping like hell there would be nothing to tell. Ever. That he and Angie would pull this sting off with no hiccups, and then he’d be on his way to D.C. to a new job before he had to give her another thought.
A minute later he still hadn’t moved and room service was at the door.
THE COFFEE WAS ALL SET OUT on the patio when Angie left the bathroom. Two laptops were open, one on the table which Ryan was staring at, the other on the dresser. That laptop had to be Ryan Ebsen’s because the screen saver consisted of revolving pictures of Ferraris.
She debated unpacking, but she needed the caffeine too desperately to wait.
Outside, it was surprisingly warm for February in the high desert, and the view of the mountains was beautiful. Ryan had a large cheese Danish on his plate, but in front of her seat at the round glass table was a yogurt-and-fruit parfait with a bran muffin on the side. She stared at the breakfast, then looked up to meet Ryan’s gaze, but only for a second. “What’s this?”
“Sustenance.” He poured her a cup of coffee, then put the carafe down.
“Thank you.” Interesting that it was the exact breakfast she would have ordered for herself.
“You’re welcome. Look,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I believe what’s required here is to barrel through all notions of propriety and just get down to how the hell we’re going to pull this off.”
Angie knew she was blushing, she could feel the heat rise on her cheeks. “Can I at least have a cup of coffee first?”
“Yeah,” he said, easing up, at least somewhat. His posture was still stiff and he could only hold her gaze for a few seconds at a time.
She proceeded to put the cream in her coffee, to take a few moments as she sipped to catch the view and try to relax. Ryan looked different in his Ebsen clothes. She’d never imagined him in khakis and a too-tailored-to-be-off-the-rack polo shirt. The suede bucks were the perfect touch to put him on the Street Style map on GQ. He’d always dressed sharply, but this change made him look rugged and elegant at the same time, and she’d better stop thinking about him in or out of clothes and get down to work.
After
