by Debra Webb
“Like what?”
She shook her head and exchanged a knowing look with the clerk. “My man isn’t big on shopping.”
“Few of them are,” the clerk replied with a kind smile.
Jason regained his patience as Gin found a sheer cover-up, sunscreen and a pair of flip-flops for each of them. They were playing a game here, and just because he found her legs tantalizing didn’t mean he’d ever get a look at the whole package. He had to maintain his perspective. This was a vast improvement over milling about waiting for something to happen.
When Gin decided they were set, Jason asked the clerk to add the charges to their account and deliver the purchases to the room.
“Of course.” She tapped a few keys and as he was signing the receipt, the clerk congratulated them both. “Congratulations! You do know you’re entered in our wedding sweepstakes this month, right?”
Jason and Gin exchanged a look. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“Each month we give away a destination honeymoon, gift certificates to major retailers and cash. Each night’s stay and every purchase you make in the hotel is an added entry.”
“That sounds amazing,” Gin gushed.
“Doesn’t it, though?” the clerk agreed. “Did you have a honeymoon planned?”
“We’re just taking the next couple of days here,” he replied. “The plan is to do something bigger for our first anniversary.”
“Well, Barbados or France would definitely be bigger. Good luck to you.”
Gin clung to his arm as they exited the store. When he suggested more window shopping, she cut him off flat. “The seller just walked by. We have to tail him.”
“Anything for you, love.”
“Stop.”
He assumed she wanted him to stop with the endearments, but she’d paused in front of the jewelry store display. Following her lead, he nodded and smiled as she pointed out various pieces.
“He’s getting a coffee.”
“Okay.” That didn’t help him much. Three of the five people closest to the serving counter were men. He gave her waist a quick squeeze. “Has the vial moved?”
She drew her phone from her pocket and swiped the screen. “No.” She said it with a smile, but he felt the tension humming through her body. “Let’s get into the casino. He’s a craps and roulette man.”
“Not the biologist then.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t. Just seems like a smart man would favor a game with better odds.”
“He’s representing Isely,” she murmured. “How smart can he be?”
Good point. They left the shopping area and passed groups of slot machines and the entrance to the twenty-four-hour buffet on their way to the gambling floor. Delving into the role she’d asked him to play, he matched her slower pace and pretended to look for just the right table to join.
“You’ve got to give me something better to go on if you want my help.”
“Hmm.” She drummed her fingertips against his forearm. “Let’s try roulette.”
“Sucker game,” he said for her ears only as they walked closer. None of the coffee bar customers were nearby, but as Jason scanned the room, he spied a familiar face that filled him with dread. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t imagine any benign scenario that would put the two of them in the same city.
Gabriel Frost had earned his forbidding reputation by doing the long-range dirty work for the side with the most money. In Europe the man was a cross between a ghost and an urban legend. Kill shots of all complexities were attributed to him. Jason only knew his face because he’d seen it once through a scope during the course of an investigation. It was the reason Interpol had brought him on board—to unravel the shooter’s methods. Jason’s efforts had brought them closer than they’d ever been, but still they’d been unable to make an arrest.
“Two chances and then I’d like to try some cards,” he said, watching Frost head toward the blackjack tables.
She quirked an eyebrow in a silent question but didn’t argue. She lost her first bet and lost again on her second. Smiling, she gazed up at him. “Love’s better than money any day.”
Her sentiment earned them a chorus of awws as they left for the card room.
“A kiss for luck?” he asked as they looked around at the various tables.
“Always.”
When her lips brushed his, he held her a moment longer. “You’re sure this vial originated in Europe?”
“Yes.”
“That should do it,” he said in a normal voice. He found a seat at the table that gave her the best view of the rest of the floor and him the best view of Frost.
He was up two hundred dollars when Gin whispered in his ear. Although it might have looked like sweet nothings to an outsider, she was telling him her target was on the move again. He had to assume so anyway because he had yet to single out the person she was shadowing.
Jason’s newly acquired target sat in front of a growing stack of chips and appeared to be in for a few more hours of play. This wasn’t the right place to share his concerns that Isely had brought a shooter to the party, and staying too close might jeopardize the advantage of surprise he knew he had right now. It was best to move.
Jason let her guide him with a deft touch on his arm or at his waist as they moved between tables. They lost a few more chips on a craps game before she declared she wanted to go for a swim. If it meant he got to see her in the bikini, he was all for it.
When they were back in the room, he stowed the chips in the safe with the gun. “When are you going to tell me who you’re shadowing?”
“When you need to know.” She was at the table admiring their purchases. “A girl could get used to this kind of service.” She tossed the shorts his way. “I’m not sure what to think about Isely’s absence.” She pulled a tablet out of her suitcase. “Maybe they arrested him last night.”
“More likely he’s just lying low.” And letting Frost do his thing. If she wasn’t sharing her secrets with him, he wasn’t about to mention the anomaly he’d noticed. He might need the information for leverage later.
“If they picked him up, they’re not publicizing it.” She sighed and set the tablet aside to pick up the swimsuit. “I’ll change in the bedroom.”
He pulled the price tags off of the shorts and waited until she was out of sight to strip off his khakis. There wasn’t much point in modesty after this morning, but he meant to honor the ground rules. Besides, keeping his distance was the only way to regain his sanity where she was concerned.
“Where did you learn to count cards? Any chance you’re undercover with the Gaming Commission?” She laughed and he knew he enjoyed the merry sound too much.
His first instinct was denial, but he heard himself telling her the truth. “My assignments often involve long stretches of boredom. It was something to do.”
“I’d think with a skill like that you’d gamble more often.”
“I discovered a preference for other calculated risks.”
She appeared in the doorway, and he whistled—couldn’t stop himself. Her full breasts filled out the revealing cups of the bikini top. Tiny emerald-colored stones glittered on the matching silk. The sheer scarf knotted low on her hips left her midriff bare and did a poor job of covering her lovely legs. She was—in a word—gorgeous.
What were the ground rules again?
Maybe if he knocked his head against the wall, he’d shake loose the memory of those legs twined with his. Of all the things he’d seen in his life, why did his mind block the one memory he knew would keep him warm for the rest of his days?
She spun in a quick circle, hands linked at her back, and stopped with a wink. Playing along, he clutched his heart and pretended to faint onto the love seat.
“You’ll cause more than a few heart attacks out there,” he promised.
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She traced the stylized dragon tattoo on his biceps with her fingertip. “You
’ll leave more than a few hearts stuttering in your wake, too, I think.”
“Nah.”
She pulled him to his feet and into the bedroom and he had the inevitable hope that she was through with ground rules, too. “Look at us,” she said, turning them toward the mirror, her arm linked in his. “We look good together. Like the perfect, newly married couple.”
He agreed. Her rich red hair brushed his shoulder and her smooth, alabaster skin was a creamy highlight against his skin tanned from training outside.
“Let’s go soak up some sunshine.”
“So who are you shadowing, Gin?”
Her face clouded over as she stepped away from him. “Probably just a flunky since I bumped into Isely himself last night. I’d hoped he sent the virus here with someone he trusted, someone who could get us deeper into his operation. My gut says he’s up to something.”
Jason thought about the sniper. “Criminals usually are.”
“I mean something bigger.” She pulled a face. “It’s not like him to micromanage a standard exchange. He blames that kind of behavior for getting his father killed. I’m just traipsing along behind the tracking tags on the vials.” She held up her phone and showed him the status. “This one hasn’t moved in two days. Our intel says the sale goes down sometime this weekend.”
“Where?”
“Vegas.”
“That’s too broad a window for one agent to cover.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve been following these little radar blips for weeks.”
“How many are there?”
“Three tags that I know of.”
“How’d you get the data for tracking?”
She winked at him. “That’s classified.”
He rolled his eyes. Considering her recent travels, it was a logical assumption that she’d managed that op on her own, too. “Why is it so important to expand your part of the mission?”
“It normally wouldn’t matter, but this virus is worse than nasty. It’s capable of wiping out a village in less than a week.” She started pacing, her hips making the fabric of that scarf sway. “Biological warfare only hurts the innocent. I want to know why it’s on American soil.”
“Got it,” he said, though he suspected there was a bigger reason lurking under the surface. “Any chance your flunky might like the pool?”
“Who knows? But I can watch the blip down there as easily as I can up here.”
“Then grab the sunscreen.” If they left the room, he could get his hands on her. If they were just killing time, he wanted to enjoy it.
Chapter Five
Gin’s pulse fluttered all the way from his suite to the pool. She couldn’t get over the reflection of the two of them in the mirror. Something had clicked for her in that moment. Something she couldn’t afford to notice and would never consider acting on.
There was an ongoing mission here. Innocent people would die if she failed to follow that signal to the scheduled exchange.
The sobering thought was enough to keep her grounded through the nearly worshipful effort Jason gave to applying the sunscreen to her back. Doting indeed. Would he really spoil a wife this way? Would he take such care, or was he just going above and beyond to get under her skin?
Or her sarong.
She pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and squinted at him as he settled on the lounge chair next to hers. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just soaking up the sunshine with my gorgeous wife. As ordered.” He skimmed a finger down her leg, leaving a searing trail along her nerves. “Would you rather we did something else?”
“Of course not.” She replaced her sunglasses to cover her reaction to his touch. “This is fabulous.” She even managed a contented sigh.
“Good.” He was doing something with his phone.
“Problem?”
“Nope, just checking up on a friend.”
She hoped that was all he was doing. In his position, she would be trying to figure how who had sent the doped drink and how to get out of an unexpected marriage. The thought was almost as sobering as the idea of a modern-day plague. She scolded herself for the errant thought and flipped over, the better to watch for the people critical to her assignment.
“Do you want to swim?”
“No, thank you.” She patted his leg and enjoyed the view as he stripped off his T-shirt. “You go on ahead.” His brow furrowed and she knew he thought she wanted to get rid of him. She would have made the same assumption if their roles were reversed. “I promise I’ll stay right here. There’s no reason to move.”
He stood and dropped his sunglasses on the towel before diving into the deep end of the pool with enough grace to make her mouth water. Acting a part or not, she had to admit there was a mutual attraction here. A serious attraction she wanted to explore—time permitting. With every move he made in public, she forgot a little bit about why the ground rules for being alone were so important.
Although it had been fun teasing him that they’d shared something intimate last night, with every passing touch she wanted to see where those kisses might have led if he hadn’t been indisposed.
And just where was the woman who had drugged him? It might have been a random con, but she just didn’t believe it. Las Vegas and the general anonymity of the hotel scene, worked in the favor of people who wanted to skirt the rules. Gin was excellent with faces, but she had to admit that the constantly shifting landscape presented a challenge. Jason was right—they could talk to the bartender, but most likely they would have to reveal themselves to hotel security. The video record of the bar last night was the only hope they had of getting a lead on the woman who’d sent him the bad drink.
Because the blond wig and emerald dress had been so similar to her own disguise last night, she was more than a little concerned the woman who’d targeted Jason was also somehow related to her case. From behind her oversized dark sunglasses, she watched the other guests at the pool. It wasn’t particularly crowded, but they were hardly alone. The staff moved here and there, ever present but never interfering.
No one seemed to care much about Jason swimming a few laps at an easy pace around the people relaxing and playing in the water. Well, no one but a few women with skimpier swimsuits than the one Gin wore. One of them—a blonde—caught at his ankle, and he pulled up short to talk with her.
Not the same woman from the bar last night. Gin could tell from here that the cheek structure was wrong. Plus, she didn’t think anyone would risk swimming with a wig on.
The easy smile Jason gave the stranger sent a tide of jealousy surging through Gin. Her toes squeezed the slats of the chair, and she thought going for a swim might be the right choice after all. Every second had that jealousy swirling stronger and stronger around her. It took all of her tremendous self-control to smother the urge to shout at him to show the woman the ring on his finger.
Except that’s just what he was doing. The sunlight flashed off the gold band, and the smile he sent Gin’s way was full of devotion.
And there went her heart again, doing a little tap dance of happiness. Keeping her head tilted as if she was reading, she turned the page of the magazine in her lap and mentally reviewed the projections of deaths that one vial of the virus could cause. She was in Las Vegas for a reason. She wasn’t here to fall in love with an unattainable man like him.
She’d reached the secondary infection stage numbers when Jason’s phone screamed out a Rolling Stones riff. Leaning over, she reached to mute it. If she happened to see the caller identity display O’Marron, that wasn’t snooping—just an innocent accident.
Seemed like the right rationalization for a wife to make. At least it sounded good in her head.
But she must have leaned too far because her chair suddenly popped and shifted beneath her. Someone screamed and Jason shouted her name. She glanced over her shoulder at him and barely registered the horror on his face when another scream split the air and drew her attention in the other direction.
&nb
sp; A lifeguard was on the deck, clutching at her leg, blood running freely between her fingers.
Following instinct, Gin scrambled to help. She was closest, but Jason suddenly was hovering over her, his body so close he dripped pool water over her.
“Go.” He gave a nod indicating the nearest cabana.
“But she’s hurt.” Gin gestured toward the lifeguard.
“Your chair.”
She twisted around and immediately understood his urgency. One of the slats of the chaise had a clean hole that hadn’t been there when she’d taken her seat. A bullet hole. Someone had taken a shot at her.
“Go!”
There was no arguing with that tone even if she had been inclined to do so.
She raced to the cabana, Jason at her side, praying the whole way the shooter wouldn’t tag either of them.
Knowing the trip was only a few yards didn’t make it any less harrowing. She tried to catch her breath, but Jason spun her in a circle, his big hands brushing lightly over her skin as if he were searching for something.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you weren’t hit.”
She wanted to peek out and check on the lifeguard, but Jason blocked her view. “Is she okay?”
“Looked messy but not life threatening. Lower leg. Probably hit by a ricochet of the first bullet.”
“First?”
“Yes.” He peered through a narrow break in the curtains framing the cabana.
“Can you see the shooter?”
He shook his head and turned back toward her. “Didn’t you hear the second shot?”
“I think I missed the first shot. Your phone rang and I—”
“Shh.” He pulled her into a quick hug. “We need to get out of here before the cops arrive.”
She bobbed her chin in agreement. If they decided they had any helpful information, they could share it through official channels later. Sticking around now might just as easily get either one of them killed or worse—injure another bystander.
