“Naked? Where?” the receptionist asked, giddy as she spoke into her cell.
Kathryn warmed with a smile. These were the moments she lived for. That brief sliver of time when she could hear every word of someone's private conversation and they hadn’t the vaguest clue she was there, standing roughly three feet away.
She hadn’t exactly snuck up on the woman, but the carpeting softened her steps. Listening in, this was most of her life with Wolfe Investigations, day in and day out. Eavesdropping. Snooping. Call it what you will, but it was her God-given gift. The life she was born for.
“How naked?” The receptionist, whose name was Celeste according to her nameplate, asked this question because obviously there were varying degrees of nudity. Especially when referring to a twenty-year-old young man at his grandparents’ vow renewal.
Silently, Kathryn craned her body, twisting it just enough to catch every descriptive and tattooed detail.
“Oh!” Celeste said, freezing midspin in her chair when she caught sight of Kathryn. “I’ll call you back,” she whispered, her rosy cheeks brightening as she disconnected and tucked the phone behind her. Before Kathryn could introduce herself, Celeste popped to her feet. “Let me just see if he’s ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
The young woman bolted down the long hall and returned a few moments later. “He said he’ll be right with you. And so, so sorry about earlier.” The poor girl gushed out an apology, prayer hands and all.
“Thank you, and no need to be sorry.” Kathryn leaned over. “How naked was he?”
Celeste unleashed, spilling every last drop of tea. “It wasn’t just that he was naked—which he totally was. Or that he was caught in the honeymoon suite—aka, Papaw and Memaw’s bedroom. It was that he was with the caterer . . . and not his date. Who happens to be my cousin. Men,” Celeste said with a huff, “are asses.”
“Not all of them,” Kathryn said knowingly as her thumb brushed the diamond ring on her finger.
Turning, she surveyed the available seats in the waiting room. The man wearing the decent suit wielding a rollaway suitcase was probably a pharmaceutical rep. Notorious talkers.
Pass.
And the three others were medical personnel—two nurses and a doctor—each studying their own notes and didn’t need to be disturbed. She found a quiet corner as “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer blared from her purse. The smarmy salesman nodded in approval.
She dug her phone from her purse and answered, scrunching her face in apology to the three stoic professionals as she plopped her derriere into the nearest seat.
Sliding in her earbuds, she whispered, “Hi.”
“If this is your phone-sex voice, my credit card number is ready.”
Kathryn tried to hold back the giggle Jake always had a way of dragging from her at the worst possible times.
“Busy?” he asked.
“About to be,” she said with regret, pressing her thighs together as his gruff voice did its usual number on her system. “I miss you.”
“How much do you miss me?” It was easy to imagine Jake’s lips smiling through fourteen full days of stubble as his suggestive question lingered in her ear.
Crossing her legs and battling her rising heat, she said, “More than I can say at the moment.”
His FaceTime request was instant. She accepted, expecting the man who’d been working around the clock in who knows what country to look downright exhausted.
What was she thinking? This was Jake Russo. The man with ceaseless energy and a libido to match. And right now, Jake was all of those things and soaking wet on top of it.
Fresh out of the shower, the man was a god with his hair dripping and body slick with lickable droplets he deliberately avoided drying off. He was either making a strong case for phone sex, or running to his Thunder from Down Under audition.
“And what are you doing at this moment?” he asked, teasing her with glimpses down his chest.
“An interview,” she said effortlessly because it was kinda-sorta true. It was an interview. Just not the sort of interview usually required by her job, putting Kathryn across the table from witnesses and suspects alike, gathering their statements to paint a picture of the truth.
No, this time, she was massaging the truth, taking an interview for a job she hadn’t asked for, for a position she couldn’t help wanting. It was the kind of work she’d run circles around others doing, so why were her palms sweating?
Maybe because Jake was panning his phone’s camera downward.
She let out a gasp and sank into her seat, tapping each earbud in securely to ensure absolute privacy in a room of strangers. “What, um, time are you returning?”
“Home? Around four tomorrow afternoon. But sooner if I can.”
She latched onto the word home. “So, you’ll be in Colorado before that?”
The extra-long pause he took to answer the question wasn’t nearly as suspicious as the slight tightening of his jaw, producing his “angry” dimple.
Oh my gosh. Can he be here now?
Finally, he answered. “A quick trip to Boulder. But back by four. So, ready to see how much I miss you?” He tipped the camera again, giving her glimpses of the ridges in the muscles along his abs and hips.
Battling between grilling him further about where he was and outright licking the screen, Kathryn jolted from her chair when someone touched her shoulder. She fumbled her phone and caught it in midair, snapping it to her chest.
“Excuse me,” the receptionist said apologetically. “He’s ready for you, Mrs. Reeves.”
Kathryn collected herself, controlling her breaths.
Jake was in her ear. “Did she say Mrs. Reeves? Undercover?”
“No,” she said honestly. Standing, she nodded to the young woman, smiling sweetly as she said to her, “I’m Kathryn Chase.”
“Oh. Okay, Ms. Chase. This way.”
The petite woman led her down a long hall.
“I’ll call you back,” Kathryn murmured at her phone, pushing out her bottom lip in deflated protest.
“Then I’ll take care of that perfect pout tomorrow. Love you.”
The receptionist opened a glass door with the words division chair - surgical specialities etched into the glass, giving Kathryn access to an office overlooking the mountain range in the distance, and the towering man before her. Hands on his hips, it was clear she was keeping him waiting a millisecond too long.
“I love you too,” she whispered into the phone and disconnected the call.
“And you’re about to love me too,” the Chief of Surgery said, his white physician coat looking way too starched and pressed to be practical.
Ten bucks says he had his socks ironed. And probably his underwear.
Kathryn huffed, doing her best to keep her eye roll to a minimum. “I’ll just bet. Why did your receptionist call me Mrs. Reeves?” Straightening her stance, she asked, “I thought you invited me here for an interview.”
With a stern glance that instantly had her sitting down opposite him, he didn’t mince words. “Come on, Kat—”
“Kathryn,” she said quickly, correcting him.
“Fine, Kathryn,” he said, stressing her full given name for effect. And because he was an ass. “Whatever my secretary said was her mistake, not mine. And we both know the interview was just a ruse to get you here. I sent you everything I have. The job is yours if you want it. We’ll build as we go. Full autonomy. You can name your price. All I want from you is a yes or a no.”
No would be the prudent answer. There were so many things that could go wrong with this arrangement, such as the amount of work. And the proximity to the narcissistic face of Mr. Fucking Perfect. Aka, her new boss.
Oh yeah. And her ex-husband.
Dr. Carter Reeves was a brilliant surgeon. Avid golfer, skier, and mountain climber. And newly appointed hospital department chair, hence his recent return to Colorado. And the reason his arrogant grin anticipated her response before she even gave it.
“Yes.” Kathryn beamed before she could stop herself. Before that pivotal moment when her brain engaged and kicked her in the ass, and a small knot formed in her gut. This is such a bad idea.
Schooling her emotions, she said, “I mean maybe. A test drive to see how it goes. But I don’t want people knowing it was you who did this.”
The handsome man arched that perfectly thick brow, a move that should be illegal. One that had charmed Kathryn endless times in the past, but that was ancient history. He’d always been just this close to being the total package. And then he’d open his mouth.
He smirked. “You mean you don’t want Jake to know?”
And there it was. The arrogance that made this total package intolerable.
Of course it would be too much to expect him not to know about Jake. He was rich. Connected. And there was that whole Facebook-friend thing he and Kathryn still had going on. Technically, his profile was snoozed every thirty days, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I’m not hiding it from Jake.” Exactly. “I’m just compartmentalizing certain things.” Like my man and you. “I’m just trying something new.”
“No explanation needed,” he said, hardly modest with his smug-as-shit grin that always managed to sprout a dimple. “And if you were test-driving that line on me, it sounds great.”
The wink? Equally as irritating. I hate myself for laughing.
True, it wouldn’t be every day, so Jake might not notice right away. Because it wasn’t like her fiancé was one of the leading investigators in the world. In cyber investigations, no less. Jake was more than brilliant at his work and in demand worldwide. Her husband-to-be was a damned bloodhound.
But trying to snow Jake Russo even for a second?
I am so earning a punishment.
Besides, if Jake was anything, he was a raging workaholic. Lately, he was out of town more than he was home. Not that Kathryn was necessarily complaining.
Have I burned the midnight oil time and time again? Guilty.
In total disgrace, she hadn’t even let half a second go by before she blurted, “When do I start?”
My hardball could use some serious work.
“Is tomorrow too soon? Two o’clock?” Carter asked.
“Two’s perfect.” I’ll squeeze it in before Jake returns. What can go wrong?
“Then it’s a date.”
I’m not going to argue with the pompous schmo who just offered me the chance to explore my dream job, but I’m mentally throwing out there that this is not a date.
“And now that I’ve done you a favor, Nurse Chase, I need you to do me one.”
The title instantly tickled Kathryn’s soul, resulting in a poorly hidden cheesy grin. “Anything.”
“A chance to catch up,” Carter said, which wouldn’t be overly concerning until he added, “Over dinner.”
“Dinner?” she squeaked out.
“I promise, nothing fancy.” Shocker. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”