style="font-size:15px;"> He looked at his hands, at the wedding ring he wore.
“It won’t be real,” he said again, as if he were trying to convince himself of that fact.
Zoe sat across from him, her elation instantly subdued. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him quietly. “You’ll have to take off your wedding ring.”
Jake looked at his left hand again. “I know.” He fingered it with his thumb. “That’s okay. It doesn’t really mean anything anyway. We were only married a few days before she died.”
Wait a minute…“Crash told me you and Daisy were together for just short of forever.”
“Daisy didn’t believe in marriage,” he told her simply. “She only married me at the end, because it was the only thing she had left to give me.” He took off the ring, letting it spin on the table in front of him.
“You must really miss her.”
“Yeah. She was pretty incredible.” He caught the ring deftly, midspin, and slipped it into his pants pocket. “I should probably get used to not wearing this.”
He looked so sad, Zoe ached for him. “You know, Jake—we could think of another way to do this.”
He met her eyes. “I suppose I could call Pat Sullivan and see if Gregor Winston’s available to take over for you.”
Zoe reacted. “Gregor’s not half as qualified as—”
Jake was smiling at her. “As you are,” he finished for her. “Yeah, that’s why I requested you.”
“But he’s a man,” she pointed out unnecessarily. “He could get into the CRO without having to marry you.”
“Thank goodness.” Jake’s smile faded as he gazed at her. “Look, I’m all right with this, Zoe. But if it makes you feel uncomfortable…”
She looked at his hands, now ringless. He had big hands, with neat nails and broad, strong fingers. She even found his hands outrageously attractive.
Uncomfortable was not the word to describe the way she felt about this assignment.
She tried to make a joke. “Are you kidding? I have no problem letting Hal Francke grope me. Why should it bother me if I have to let you do the same?”
It wasn’t true. The part about Hal. Despite what she’d told Jake, she hated it when men touched her, when she had to use her body in any way while on the job. But there were times when dressing seductively got her further. And as for letting men touch her…
She’d learned to pretend it was nothing, to be flip about it. She was a tough, professional Agency operative. She shouldn’t give a damn about something as meaningless as that. And although she also pretended her casualness extended all the way to the act of sex, she’d always drawn the line well before that. Always.
“Are you telling me you’d sleep with this guy?” Jake had asked about Hal Francke.
She’d purposely sidestepped his question, avoiding a direct answer. It wouldn’t do her a bit of good to make her team leader believe she needed to be protected. As nice as it might be in some fantasy to have Jake ready to rush to her side, to protect her from the Hal Franckes of the world, this was reality.
And if he thought she was weak—in any way—she’d spend this entire mission inside the safety of the surveillance van.
“I’m going to have to make it look real,” he told her. “You know, when I come into the bar.”
“I will, too,” she told him. “So don’t freak out when I grab your butt, all right?”
He laughed, but it was decidedly halfhearted, and she knew what he was thinking. The last woman to grab his butt had been his wife.
Zoe pushed herself up and out of the booth, tossing her empty soda can into the recycling bin. “Do you want…” She stopped. It seemed so forward of her to ask—and that wasn’t even considering her suggestion implied a lack of ability on the admiral’s part.
But he could read her mind. “You’re afraid I’m going to get stiff,” he said, then winced realizing his poor word choice. “Tense up,” he quickly corrected himself. “You’re afraid I’m going to tense up.”
Zoe couldn’t keep from laughing, and Jake joined in, shaking his head. “Jeez,” he said. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”
She held out her hand to him. “Come here.”
He hesitated, just looking at her, a curious mix of emotions in his eyes. He shook his head. “Zoe, I don’t think…”
“Just come here.”
With a sigh, he slid from the booth, the powerful muscles in his arms standing out in sharp relief as he pushed himself up. Dressed the way he was in a body-hugging black T-shirt and black BDU pants, she could see he was in better shape than most men half his age. He looked like some kind of dream come true. Why couldn’t he see that?
“I don’t need to, you know, practice this,” he said, even as he took her hand. “It’s not like it’s something I’ve forgotten how to do.”
“But this way, the mystery’s gone,” she told him. “This way you don’t have to spend any time in the bar thinking about the fact that Daisy was the last woman you held in your arms. This way you’ll be able to concentrate on making it look real, on getting the job done.”
She slipped her arms around him, but he just stood there, arms at his side, swearing very, very softly.
“Come on, Jake,” she said. “This is just make-believe.” She said it as much to remind herself of that fact.
He smelled too good. He felt too good. His body fit too perfectly with hers.
And slowly, very slowly, he put his arms around her.
Zoe rested her head on his shoulder, aware of the solidness of his chest against her breasts, the tautness of his thighs against hers, the complete warmth of his arms.
He slowly rested his cheek against her head, and she felt him sigh.
“You all right?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He pulled back, away from her, forcing a smile. “Thank you. This was a…smart idea. Because I am a little tense, aren’t I?”
“You should probably kiss me.”
He looked as if she’d suggested he use the neighbor’s cat for target practice. “Oh, I don’t think—”
“Jake, I’m sorry, but you are not a little tense, you are so tense. If you come into that bar and hold me so politely like that, as if I’m your grandmother…”
He couldn’t argue, because he knew it was true. “I’m not sure I’m ready to—”
“Then maybe we better come up with another plan. Maybe we should be trying to figure
