âWe need to kiss â¦â
Angie knew exactly what was at stake. To kiss Ryan until it felt right. As if they were a real couple.
To get to a comfort level would take a considerable amount of kissing. And touching. Could she really handle that? If she blew this sting because of some ridiculous secret crush on an impossible man â¦
His hands squeezed her shoulders. âYouâre right.â
His gaze locked on hers. âWe have to get rid of this awkwardness between us, or risk the operation.â
âI agree. Totally.â She forced a smile, casually placed a palm on his chest, as if kissing him was no big deal, and hoped he didnât see her pulse leaping out of control.
This was it. The moment of truth.
He took a step. Stopped. âIâm getting a scotch.â
Her whole body sagged in relief, but before she asked for a drink of her own, the stakes flashed through her mind.
So she grabbed Ryanâs shoulders, pushed herself against his body and pulled him straight down into the kiss of her life â¦
SPECIAL AGENT RYAN VAIL tossed the brochure on the bed. The amazingly comfortable-looking bed, which was a far cry from most of the rat holes heâd been stuck with on various FBI stings and stakeouts. The Color Canyon Resort and Spa was a decadent oasis in the middle of the Las Vegas desert built for people with cash to spend and a yen for excitement and being pampered.
Ryan settled against the headboard, the puffy comforter billowing around him. Straight ahead was a forty-two-inch flat-screen TV. There was a wing chair, a leather love seat, an extravagantly stocked minibar and, if he turned his head to the right, beyond the private patio was a view of a nice little courtyard with a pool and spa pool all in the shadow of the Spring Mountains. It might be February in the rest of the world, but in the Vegas desert it was a balmy seventy-two degrees with copious sunshine on the docket for the rest of the week.
He grinned, pulled out his cell phone and went right to speed dial text.
Youâre gonna die when you see the bathtub.
He hit Send, adjusted the pillow behind him and checked out his work stuff. Another email update on Delilah Bridges, one of the cotherapists in charge of this barbecue. Four people ran the Intimate At Last retreat weekends, all suspects in a major blackmail scheme. Unfortunately for them, theyâd unwittingly targeted a friend of James Leonard, the Deputy Director of the FBI.
Ryanâs phone rang, and he knew it was his partner without even looking. âJeannie Foster. Howâs my favorite witness for the State?â
âShut up, you bastard,â she said, her voice echoey, as if she were speaking in a vast hall. Or a toilet stall.
Of course, heâd taken a picture of the big-enough-for-a-party whirlpool tub, which he promptly sent her. A moment later, the mother of two cursed him with her usual flair.
âI hate court. I hate lawyers. I hate judges. And donât even get me started on juries. Get me the hell out of here, Ryan.â
âIt should be over soon, right?â
âProbably around the time of the next ice age. Jesus, they love to hear themselves talk.â
âIn a few hours youâll forget all about them. This place is something else. If Iâm going to be forced to sleep with you, Iâm glad itâs in this beauty of a bed. Which is actually more comfortable than mine at home.â
Jeannie laughed. âItâs not the bed, honey, itâs all your extracurricular activity. I think youâd have to find a titanium mattress to keep up.â
âYouâre hilarious.â
âNothing is hilarious today,â she said. âYou get the new updates on Delilah?â
âYeah.â
Her sigh was long and filled with frustration. âInteresting about her father and his criminal record, but dammit, still nothing usable. With all the data weâve collected, youâd think weâd have uncovered something more viable.â
âEveryone makes mistakes. But,â he added, âIâm going to be such a perfect mark, theyâre gonna wet themselves waiting to get to me. Weâll be out of here in a few days.â
âI thought you said the accommodations were super deluxe?â
He grinned. This is why he liked his partner, despite the fact that she could be a stick in the mud, what with being married and a mom. She was quick ⦠and needed a vacation as badly as he did after the intensity of the past two months preparing for this sting. âRight. Maybe itâll take the whole week.â
âThere we go. I have to get back to the torture chamber. I hear theyâre planning on using the rack next.â
âHey, Iâm gonna sign off on this phone, but Ryan Ebsenâs cell and laptop havenât finished charging. If thereâs a God, I should be asleep when you arrive, so donât wake me.â