she was sure he would stay unconscious she’d dashed back to her own room and gathered what she needed to set the stage here in his suite. Then she’d returned to his room and searched it, looking for any clue as to why he’d been in Vegas, particularly in the same hotel where a deadly virus was about to change hands. She’d found nothing to point to his purpose or even a possible cover story. The easy explanation was this was just a quick getaway for him, but she didn’t believe in coincidence.
Now, while he showered off the last effects of the drug, she cleaned up the mess she’d deliberately made and indulged in what was surely the most girlish moment of her life. She buried her nose in his shirt, remembering his hands in her hair and cruising over her body. The woman who married him for real would be one lucky, well-loved woman.
She shivered, squashing the reaction when the door opened and Jason joined her. His step was steady now, his gaze clear despite the dark circles under his eyes. His thick, sable hair glistened, and even from across the room, she caught the fresh scent of him under the zippy mint of the hotel-brand body wash.
After sleeping next to him all night, making sure he didn’t suffer nightmares or worse from the drug, she’d probably be able to pick him out of a lineup with only her nose. Good grief, what was wrong with her?
She twisted the gold band on her finger and searched for the right place to begin. “Could we, umm, talk out there?” Away from the tangled sheets of the bed. “I’ve brewed a pot of coffee, and breakfast will be here any minute.”
He agreed with a subtle dip of his chin, and she knew he was evaluating her every move for a motive or a clue.
“Where’s my gun?”
“In the closet safe. The code is your birthday.”
His eyebrows lifted at that revelation. “Did we, ahh—” He finished with a tilt of his head toward the bed.
“You really don’t remember?”
He looked away. “Just bits and pieces.”
“Hmm. I should probably be offended,” she teased. In reality, she was relieved. His lack of knowledge could work to her advantage. “It was a night I’ll never forget.”
When they were out of the danger zone most people called a bedroom, she poured him a cup of coffee, then slid onto the counter stool. She didn’t want to do anything as intimate as sit across from him at the table as if they really were newlyweds. The thought made her chuckle. It didn’t get much more intimate than tucking a naked, amorous husband into bed.
When he’d tossed her wig to the floor and pulled the pins from her hair so he could run his hands through it, it had been all she could do not to cave to the temptation he presented. He was handsome and quite striking when dressed. Nude? Well, artists would kill to paint him if they knew what treasures his clothing hid. His body, strong and sculpted, showed the results of his dedication to fitness and preparation. She had relished taking in every single detail.
“You okay?”
“Yes.” She sat up straighter. “Thank you. Maybe this would go faster if you just ask whatever is on your mind.”
“Are we married?”
“Yes.” She handed him the documentation from the Viva Las Vegas wedding chapel. The paperwork was real and almost complete. The marriage license wasn’t official, but he didn’t seem to notice that. There was the added complication that the marriage wouldn’t be considered valid if Jason Grant wasn’t his real name. Her sources said it was, but mistakes happened. She still wasn’t sure why she’d used her real name rather than the alias she’d prepared for this mission.
He tossed the certificate and marriage license to the table and the scowl on his face was enough to have her second-guessing going along with his convenient, drug-induced idea.
He crossed his arms and stared at her. “Why?”
The flippant remark on the tip of her tongue just wouldn’t fall. Neither would the truth. Fortunately, she got a momentary reprieve with the arrival of breakfast.
He stalked over to the door, gave a belated glance through the security peephole and yanked the door open. The waiter was all smiles, going on about the pitcher of mimosas and sharing the congratulations for the “happy couple” from the staff. To her shock Jason took it all with a smile worthy of any happy groom, even tipping the man on his way out, but as soon as they were alone, the scowl returned.
“It won’t be that bad,” she said as he lifted the cover from each plate. She’d placed the order last night when they’d returned to the hotel, but she hadn’t expected the elaborate presentation or the mouth-watering aromas. Las Vegas might just become her favorite city, and she’d been all over the world—a few times.
A massive omelet, a plate of bacon and sausage, a stack of pancakes, two flavors of syrup, fresh berries and cream, along with all the other condiments and accompaniments, made for a remarkable display.
“Wow. This smells divine.”
He replaced the cover over the omelet she was staring at. “Tell me why you did it and I’ll let you eat.”
“You don’t want to go that route with me,” she warned. “I’m hungry.” Violence wasn’t the way she preferred to have her hands on him, but she’d put up a fight if it was the only way to earn his respect. “You have reach and strength on me, but I have guile, training and a clear head.”
“Fair point.” He held out a plate. “Start there.”
“Where?” She sliced off a portion of the omelet, added a strip of crisp bacon to her plate and returned to the counter and her coffee. As much as she wanted a mimosa, she knew the clear head was a necessity.
“Start with your ‘clear head’ advantage. Why did you drug me?”
“I didn’t.” She’d merely stepped in and likely saved his life and possibly her own by capitalizing on the moment. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.”
His gaze locked with hers, then with an arch of eyebrows, he turned his focus to drizzling syrup over a pancake.
“Is your stomach bothering you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are.” And inexplicably she felt obligated to keep him that way.
Although she didn’t believe he was the trouble in question, she didn’t think it was coincidence that her morning email alert included a caution about a sniper in Las Vegas. From the little she’d been able to dig up on him, Jason had the background and qualifications, but even when he’d been drugged, his sense of right and wrong remained intact.
She’d searched his luggage and found nothing that indicated he had a weapon other than his handgun.
She knew he doubted her about the drugs, and she didn’t hold it against him. People didn’t join covert agencies for the transparency factor. They chose it for a myriad of other reasons usually starting with some noble concept of honor and duty. Suddenly she wanted to know his motive for joining, wanted to know how it might have morphed or changed since getting into the field, but this wasn’t the time.
“What’s
