his concern. “I’m very good at what I do.”
“I don’t doubt you are,” he said, and meant it. She’d come prepared to work, and that impressed him. “But this isn’t Sunday school, Ronnie. UC’s know and understand the danger.”
“I’ve been an undercover operative before. I know how to handle myself in a dangerous situation.”
“Good. Then you know as well as I do that drug runners can be extremely dangerous, especially if we’re talking millions of dollars that’ll be lost once they’re popped. People tend to get a little deadly when you threaten that kind of income, legitimate or otherwise. You keep flinching when I touch you or tapping your glass every time I get near you, how convincing do you think we’ll be?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve been watching you, Ronnie. I move a little closer, and you start tapping your glass.” To prove his point, he shifted closer. Bracing his hand on the back of the sofa, he leaned into her and glanced down at her hands. They were still clasped in her lap, tight enough to turn her knuckles white. “You’re a dead giveaway, Ronnie.”
She pulled back, as if to escape his nearness. He wasn’t about to let her go anywhere.
“I always tap my fingers,” she said primly. “It helps me think.”
He narrowed the distance between them. “Sure it does.”
“You don’t know me well enough to make those kind of judgments.”
“My hand brushes yours, or I touch you,” he said, settling his hand on her smooth-as-silk knee, “and you jump.”
“I didn’t expect you to touch me, that’s all.”
He noted the panic in her voice, but refused to stop pushing her. If he was going in, then he’d be damn sure his partner was up to the assignment. With his hand still on her leg, he brushed his thumb along the curve of her knee. He’d expected her skin to feel as soft as it looked, and wasn’t disappointed.
She pressed herself against the back of the sofa. With his other hand, he trailed his fingers along the curve of her neck and she trembled. “Tomorrow we’re newlyweds. That means we have to convince everyone we come in contact with that we’re in love and that includes touching.” He smoothed his hand over her leg. She trembled again, but not out of fear or nervousness. The quick flash in her eyes told him loud and clear that this time, awareness ranked high on the list.
“I—”
“And kissing,” he said, his mouth inches from hers. Her sweet breath fanned his lips. Only a will as strong as iron kept him from tasting her. “Once we hit the island, anyone we come in contact with has to believe we’re married.”
“But—”
“And intimate,” he added, his fingers pressing against her wildly beating pulse. “Our lives will depend on a convincing performance.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can be very convincing,” she said, her accent more pronounced. Another revealing nuance to her intriguing personality.
“Then prove it,” he challenged.
“Prove it? How?”
“Kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it, Ronnie.”
3
“YOU’RE BEING RIDICULOUS.” Ronnie pushed away from him and stood. Before she could follow her instincts and bolt across the room, his hand snaked out and snagged her wrist.
“I’m dead serious,” he said, his soft gray eyes filled with something unidentifiable that had her heart beating faster. “You’re no civilian, Ronnie. You know what can go wrong as well as I do. You want to end up in a body bag? Because that’s exactly where we’ll be if there’s so much as a hint we’re not legit.”
She wished he’d stop smoothing his thumb along the tender underside of her wrist. Didn’t he know that drove her crazy and made her skin quiver?
Gently, she tugged her hand, but his grip tightened. “I’m no rookie,” she told him.
“Great. Then you know we have to be damned convincing.”
“Of course I do,” she said irritably when he stood. Why was he doing this? Did he know the thought of kissing him had occupied her mind for the better part of the day? Was he aware of just how much she’d thought about slipping her arms around his neck and dragging his mouth down to hers the second he’d uttered that husky “kiss me” demand?
She hoped not, firmly reminding herself again that his presence on this case was nothing more than a means to an end. That’s all he ever could be to her, no matter how many times her heart rate accelerated or how much overtime her imagination put in whenever she thought about the next two weeks alone in a luxurious honeymoon resort with him. He was her temporary partner and held no more importance than a vital piece of equipment required to do the job. She would not, could not, get caught up in all that sex appeal.
More significantly, Blake Hammond was a cop. And after what she’d suffered because of her former partner, getting involved with any man in law enforcement was nothing short of emotional suicide. One dark-haired, silver-eyed detective with enough sexual magnetism to short circuit her central nervous system had to top her list of males in the danger zone. She refused to be that stupid again.
He slipped his free hand along the side of her neck and used his thumb to tilt her chin up so she had no choice but to look into the steely determination in his gaze. “Then kiss me,” he said, his voice a rough rumble of sound. “Kiss me and convince me I’m the only man in the world you want kissing you.”
Against her will, the rate of her pulse picked up speed and collided with the hammering of her heart. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said around the wedge of unease clogging her throat, “we don’t exactly have an audience.”
Without a word, he dropped his hand and gently tugged her wrist so she’d follow him.
“Where are we going?” she demanded when they reached the front door of his condo. She had no idea what kind of game he was playing, but she wasn’t about to go quietly.
He opened the door. “To find you an audience,” he said, continuing outside.
She hurried down the short flight of concrete steps in an attempt to keep up with him. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”
He stopped at the base of the stairs and looked into the darkening horizon. “There’s nothing crazy about wanting to stay alive. This way.”
With a hefty sigh, she kept pace with him as he gently pulled her down a pathway toward a series of wooden steps leading to the beach. With his hand still wrapped around her wrist, they crossed the sand toward a strip of palm trees silhouetted against the murky skyline.
She peered into the darkness and spotted her audience. An elderly couple walked hand in hand along the shore, their bulky basset hound waddling and baying at the incoming waves, then romping down the wet sand after the receding water. Farther down the shoreline, a group of teens sat
