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Aggie
Aggie heard the knock on the bathroom door and ignored it. Ignored him. She stuck her head under the showerhead and let the pounding water massage her face and neck. The water pressure was so powerful; each drop felt like a tiny dose of acupressure on her aching muscles.
After fourteen hours in the car with her sexy mercenary, she was entitled to some private girl time.
She was attracted to him, and she didn’t want to be, damn it.
The small confines of the car meant he was always there in her range of vision. It was impossible not to notice his biceps and forearms rippling each time he moved. Or his powerful thighs flexing as he worked the gas and brakes. His sculpted jaw and masculine lips had been right there within reach, begging to be touched and kissed.
He affected her in ways she hadn’t been affected in a long time, which was both unhelpful and inconvenient, but it wasn’t as if the powerful attraction was a conscious choice. She hadn’t told her nipples to pebble or instructed the sensitive area between her legs to crave anything. They had done that all on their own.
It wasn’t just his easiness on the eyes that appealed to her. It was the black ops vibe, that sense of danger lurking just beneath the surface. Also, the fact that he didn’t make her cringe every time he opened his mouth, which—bonus—wasn’t often. The man was less interested in idle chitchat than she was, and that was a damn fine trait for a man to have. She could think of far better uses for those firm male lips of his. Had, several times over the course of the day.
Would she act on those fantasies? Absolutely, she would. In fact, she already had—in the shower and by her own hand. Twice.
But with him? No, and she wasn’t going to. He didn’t need to know she’d been picturing him naked. Or imagining running her tongue along those intricate tattoos.
Knowledge was power, and he already had enough in his arsenal.
The knock sounded again—louder this time. And again, she ignored him.
Until the door opened.
She peeked out from behind the curtain and glared at him. His hand was inches from the fabric, outstretched, as if he was about to rip it open.
Where did he think she was going to go? It was a hotel bathroom. There were no windows. No other doors. There was an exhaust fan, which presumably led to ductwork, but that kind of thing only worked in the movies.
“What?” she demanded sharply.
He blinked and took a step back. “You’ve been in there a long time.”
“So?”
“I ...” He paused, as if at a loss for words.
His gaze raked over her bare shoulder and the visible part of her arm, moving to the area concealed behind the curtain. His eyes appeared to take on a glow.
Could he see anything through the material? Or was he just using his imagination, as she had been?
Her breasts tingled, and for one brief, insane moment, she considered opening the shower curtain and letting him drink his fill. It seemed only fair. She’d seen his bare chest after all, and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Perhaps she should return the favor.
Also, she couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if she did.
She didn’t get the chance to find out. The tense moment lasted a few seconds. Then, he blinked again, cleared his throat, and averted his eyes.
“Food’s here.”
Irrational disappointment washed over her, but it was tinged with a hint of triumph, too, because his voice was huskier than it had been. Perhaps her cocky, disciplined bad boy wasn’t quite as unaffected as he wanted her to believe.
“Great. Save some for me. And, Zeke?”
“Yeah?”
“Get out.”
“Right.”
She stayed in the shower for a while longer just because, then got out and dried off. Wrapping a towel around her head, she pulled on comfortable clothes and went into the main room. Zeke was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a television that wasn’t on, looking as if he was deep in thought.
Is he thinking about me? The thought was immensely satisfying.
“It works better if you turn it on,” she commented, moving to the table, where an array of takeout sat, waiting. The delicious aromas had her mouth watering, yet it didn’t look as if he’d touched any of it. “Did you eat yet?”
He shook his head.
She grabbed some food and settled on the bed with her laptop. “Aw, you waited for me? That’s sweet.”
He grunted and frowned. Whatever she thought she might have seen on his face was gone, his expression back to the same closed business-as-usual look she’d become accustomed to. But she had seen a flare of interest—she was sure she had.
“So, how much longer until we get to where we’re going?”
“Two days. Maybe three, depending on what we hit.”
An eternity. And an instant. Her window of opportunity was closing fast. She had to make up her mind. Did she continue to play the docile package to find out more about the mysterious Charley and what she was offering? Or did she disappear while she still had the chance?
She stretched her leg out, taking pleasure in the fact that Zeke noticed. Cool, collected mercenary he might be, but he was still a man who noticed a woman’s bare leg.
“Tell me something, Zeke.”
“What?”
“Do you do this often?”
“Do I do what often?” he asked warily.
“Work for people who want to find other people who don’t want to be found.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
The right side of his mouth lifted in a half-smirk, half-smile. “Because I prefer to work for myself.”
That was something she could relate to. “You don’t work well with others, huh?”
If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she would have missed his barely imperceptible flinch.
“I don’t like taking orders,” he clarified.
The more time she spent with Zeke, the more intrigued she became. He could say he was taking her to Charley for the money, but Aggie believed there was more to it than that. Deep down, Aggie sensed in him a kindred spirit, despite the fact that they came from different worlds and had different ways of doing things.
“So ...,” she asked, “given what you know about me, what makes you think I would?”
“She didn’t say she wanted you to work for her,” he countered. “She said she wanted you found because she feared you were in trouble. She was right.”
That was beside the point. “Does she seem like the type of woman who does anything without an endgame?”
“Listen to what she has to say. If you don’t like what you hear, walk away.”
Aggie didn’t think it would be that easy. From the little bit Zeke had revealed about Charley, the woman didn’t seem inclined to accept a simple thanks, but no, thanks and let Aggie go on her merry way.
“If she’s so easy to walk away from, why didn’t you?”
“I did at first,” he admitted quietly.
That was news. “Oh? What changed your mind?”
His face hardened again. “I told you.”
“Right. The money.”
He didn’t respond to that, choosing instead to stuff food into his mouth.
Aggie tried to focus on the latest data returned by her trollers while Zeke channel-surfed from one news station to another. He paused on a story about a Boston bank president whose body had recently been found. Initial reports suggested the guy had been shot execution-style.
“Turn that up, will you?” Aggie requested.
“The brutal murder was discovered earlier today,” the reporter said into the camera. “One source close to the investigation, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said it is believed that the president of the bank, Colton Colman, siphoned millions of dollars from customer accounts, including that of reputed mob boss, Eamon Kelly. The district attorney confirmed that an investigation will be launched ...”
Aggie felt Zeke’s penetrating gaze.
“Did you have anything to do with that?”
Aggie frowned. “No.”
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her frown deepening. The mob boss wasn’t one of her targets. If money was being siphoned from Kelly’s accounts, it wasn’t her doing.
But on the surface, it looked as if it was.
“You sure about that?” he asked softly.
A chill ran down her spine. Maybe it was a coincidence. It wasn’t inconceivable that the bank president had gotten tired of handling other people’s money and decided to skim some for himself. That kind of thing happened all the time.
But... what if there was more to it than that? What if someone familiar with Robin Hood’s MO was sending a message?
The list of people who knew about Robin Hood was a short one. It included her brother—who would never betray her, the man currently sitting six feet away from her, and the person who’d hired him.
She could feel Zeke’s eyes on her, watching her intently. The tingly feelings of attraction she’d felt earlier now became anxious butterflies in her stomach. Was this whole thing a ploy? A flex to convince her it was in her best interests to work for some secret organization? A veiled threat of what could happen if she didn’t? And if so, was Zeke a willing participant, or was he simply a tool in the grand plan?
Aggie felt conflicted. Part of her wanted to believe Zeke was essentially a good guy. A mercenary, yes, but one with a code.
Another part—the part that had kept her alive in the shadows for the better part of a decade—knew it would be foolish to rest her safety and well-being on wishful thinking.
That stay-versus-go teeter-totter she was riding landed on the go side with a sudden, jarring thump.
The hard part was going to be pulling it off. The chances of getting out of this room without Zeke knowing were slim to none, which meant she was going to have to get creative.
She closed the lid of her laptop and slid it under her pillow. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.”
She slipped under the covers and turned away from him. Her mind was racing, as was her heart. She set both to the task of finding a way out.