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He just wished he could say the same for himself.
Kelly hunched over her desk, ignoring the persistent ache in her back. Her computer screen hummed in the late-night air, her only company the whir of a janitor’s vacuum and a lone light from under Hatch’s office door.
Nuances of verb tenses swirled through her head, soothing her with the familiar oblivion of work. She was in control here, with her languages and academics. If only she could find the same control away from her books.
She’d made a fool of herself this afternoon, proving full well she didn’t deserve this assignment. Not that Director Hatch had listened when she’d tried to bow out later.
Kelly whipped away the grit in her eyes and reached for her mug of herbal tea. She blew into the steamy heat, hints of raspberry steaming from the mug. She stared at the glowing words on the screen from an intercepted missive. The rural Rebelian dialect, a mix of German and Russian, seemed to be discussing some kind of sapphire. A jewel? Or the color itself?
The color of Ethan’s eyes.
She screeched those thoughts to a complete halt. Just a crush, she reminded herself.
Her nose itched with the phantom scent of masculine cologne and sweat mingling with her raspberry tea. A shiver tingled through her and her eyes fluttered closed. She inhaled the memory of Ethan.
So real.
Too real.
Her eyes snapped open.
A shadow fell across her desk. She didn’t look up.
“So you really like my butt?” Ethan’s rumbling voice filled her workspace.
Mortification seared her. She scrolled through the text on her computer screen as if he hadn’t even spoken.
He sat on the edge of her desk as he’d done at least a hundred times before. “Well, I like your smile. And I’m mad as hell at myself for having done something to take it away.”
Damn, he was good. Already she could feel her anger melting like a bowl of her favorite rocky road ice cream left in the sun.
“You’ve earned this assignment, Kelly. I had no right to tamper with that.”
She studied her still fingers on the keyboard and mumbled, “As if you could.”
“Ah, that’s right. I need to ‘get over myself.’”
His ability to laugh at himself made him all the more appealing and she could almost hate him for that. Sure he showed that fine butt of his on occasion, but once her anger had cooled she knew he’d been trying to protect her feelings—in his own man-dense kind of way.
Sort of sweet, actually. And gorgeous. And smelling so good she wanted to crawl over the desk to bury her face in his jacket.
Ethan hitched his knee farther on her desk and moved closer. “I looked over the data on Morrow’s disappearance this afternoon and came to a conclusion.”
He might as well have dangled a carrot in front of her. No way could she resist. “And?”
“Hatch was right about us as a team.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
“I’m okay with foreign languages conversationally.” Ethan scooped up her paperweight again. “Written translations, however, are not my strong suit. And I sure as hell don’t speak as many languages as you do.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So you need me.”
Ethan went still. His eyes fell from her face, lower. He couldn’t be looking at her breasts?
He glanced away, replacing the paperweight. “A good field operative needs to know his or her limitations. Which means you have to accept I have something you need, too.”
“You do?” she asked, her breasts suddenly warm and heavy beneath her crossed arms.
He swallowed, long and slow, before his eyes locked firmly on her face. “Things could turn ugly at that summit ball. You have to be able to defend yourself. I need to know you can defend yourself or I won’t be able to concentrate on my end of the operation.”
“Okay.” Feet planted, she heeled her office chair back for distance from the draw of those sapphire eyes. “I’ll log in extra training hours.”
“Not good enough. If you’re going to be ready in two weeks, it’ll take more than a few extra agency courses. I require a personal reassurance my partner can protect herself, and even watch my back, too. I’ll only have that if I take part in the training 24/7.”
Kelly scrambled to follow the conversational thread with the scent of him filling her tiny cubicle. She needed air. She needed space.
She needed another partner.
Ethan canted forward. “I think we should live together.”
Chapter 3
“Live together?”
If Kelly’s horror-filled eyes were anything to gauge by, Ethan guessed he was being subjected to a crash course in “getting over himself.” His bruised ego would have to move aside. He had to convince her to move in with him so his Aunt Eugenie could orchestrate a makeover in a way that wouldn’t hurt Kelly’s tender feelings and he would be one step closer to securing the file on his parents.
Ethan reached to stop her chair before she backpedaled into the next cubicle. “Hear me out.”
She smacked his hand away. “If this is your idea of revenge for what I said this afternoon, it’s not funny.”
“Kelly, this afternoon was,” he paused, “surprising. It’s not exactly something I’d like to repeat. But no harm, no foul.”
“Really?” Suspicion stained her eyes.
He’d have to teach her to hide her emotions better. “You were absolutely right. We’re both professionals and I should have treated you as such.”
“Now you show that by suggesting we live together?”
Ethan opted to ignore her sarcasm. “Hear me out. You’re off office duty once you leave today.”
“But the computer intelligence—”
“I have secure link-ups at home. That summit ball is only two weeks away. We need every minute between now and then to trade services.”
“What services are you offering at your playboy bachelor pad?”
Her meaning sucker-punched him. Apparently he hadn’t hidden his attraction as well as he’d thought.
Kelly’s jaw tipped with a defensiveness that spoke louder than her words. “I mean, why not take the warm and willing woman up on her offer? After all, she announced it to a whole room of people.”
How could she see herself as nothing more than a warm and willing body? Who the hell had abused her trust?
Guilt pinched him. Hard. But damn it, her safety depended on her cover’s believability. He had to trust his Aunt Eugenie could pull off her fairy godmother role for him.
Ethan decided not to acknowledge the “warm and willing” comment and rolled out his excuse for getting her out of the office. “We’ll exchange language brush-up lessons for self-defense training.”
Her arms fell to her lap. “Oh.”
“And I don’t live in a ‘bachelor pad,’” he felt compelled to add. “When I’m in town, I live in the family home with my aunt.”
A grin crept over her face. “You live with your aunt?”
She laughed.
He was worrying himself cross-eyed over hurting her feelings and she was laughing at him.
Kelly clapped a hand over her mouth.
Heat inched up the back of his neck for the second time in one day—hell, for the second time in his life—thanks to this woman. “Kelly—”
Her laughter caressed the air with the same husky sensuality of her voice. “The great playboy of the western world lives with his aunt.”
Ethan bristled. “It’s a big house.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“I’m gone a lot. She watches over my stuff.”
“Makes sense.”
Her laughter faded. Silence fell. Kelly fidgeted with the paperweight. The vacuum cleaner silenced and he still hadn’t convinced her. He would have to play dirty. But then rules had never been his strong suit. “I thought you wanted to do whatever it took to get out from behind that desk.”
Her hand clenched around the paperweight. He’d won. He could see it in the sigh lowering her shoulders.
“Your aunt won’t mind a guest for two weeks?” Kelly offered a final token resistance.
Damn it, Kelly had been pushing his buttons left and right while he was trying to be Joe Sensitive. Well, not anymore. He’d maneuver her where he wanted her, damn it, mouthiness and all. He wouldn’t let his rogue feelings get in the way of his quest for that file Hatch had on his parents.
“Aunt Eugenie knows I work for the CIA, just not about ARIES. She doesn’t ask questions. I’ve already spoken to her. Do you want to follow me out there?”
“I don’t have a car. I take the train in—”
“Good.” His mojo was positively humming. “Then I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“Well, I don’t know—”
“Be ready by seven. I want to get an early start.”
Kelly watched the morning sun creep over the Virginia suburban skyline from the comfort of luxurious leather in Ethan’s vintage Jaguar.
A really messy Jag.
She nudged the gym bag at her feet with her tennis shoe in a vain attempt to make room for herself amidst the piles of books on tape and empty coffee cups.
Over the hills and through the woods to Aunt Eugenie’s house they drove. Ice-laden trees and street signs sped past her window outside, while blues music swirled from the CD player inside.
Ethan had steamrollered her in the office the night before. Sure his plan sounded logical, but she could have come up with an alternative if he hadn’t been hogging all the air. How could a girl think when she could barely breathe? But she’d surrendered rather than risk spending more time alone with him in the intimacy of the darkened office. She’d waited to start her list of alternatives in the solitude of her apartment.
Three hours and two bowls of rocky road ice cream later, she’d decided his plan had merit, even if not for the reasons he thought. Regardless of her rampage in the office, she doubted her ability to work if she couldn’t think whenever he walked into the room. What better way to kill her infatuation than to spend more time with him and uncover his faults?
Ethan stopped for a light. A soda can rolled from under the seat.
Perfect. Her plan was already well under way. A much-needed smile pulled at her.
“What?”
Kelly peered out the windshield at the pristine yards of snow, all viewed over a sludge-covered hood. “Why in the world would someone own a car this expensive and never wash it?”
He adjusted the rearview mirror, an air freshener shaped like a pine tree swaying. “Lesson number one in field craft. Sometimes the simplest tricks are the most effective.”
“Having a car with Wash Me scrawled across the back is field craft?”
“Actually it is.” He turned another corner, downshifting. His legs flexed as he worked the clutch, brake and gas pedal. “Think about it. What happens if someone rubs away those words?”
“It leaves a big smudge,” she answered absently, admiring the impressive play of muscles beneath faded denim.
“And if someone tampers with other parts of the car…”
His words sank in, pulling her attention back to chilling reality. “Their handprints will be noticeable—or smudged.”
“Exactly. Sure, ARIES provides plenty of the high-tech gadgets. But sometimes simple works well, too.”
He existed in a world of constant threats and car bombs, and all for a higher good. How could she not admire him? Even his freshly shorn hair reminded her that every facet of his life bowed to the demands of his job.
Her plan was not going well at all. Time to dig deeper into his real life for those flaws.
“How long have you lived with your aunt?” she asked, envisioning some teenage rebellion that led him to being shuffled to another relative.
“Since elementary school.”
“That young?”
His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “My parents died in a car accident.”
How did she not know this about him? “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.”
