Operation Gigolo. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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      LYNN LIVED at the opposite end of Chicago from Tony, so they hadn’t seen much percentage in sharing a cab to O’Hare. She’d agreed to meet him at the gate, and as she stood in the waiting area, fidgeting with the handle of her rolling carry-on, she took several calming breaths. Preperformance jitters, probably, similar to the ones she got before stepping into the courtroom.

      Except this nervousness had a special edge to it. She’d come up with the idea in the heat of the crisis, and she still loved the plan, but she’d had time to consider the ramifications in the days since then. For example, she’d have to put on a convincing display of affection for Tony, which meant putting their arms around each other a lot, not to mention kissing and nuzzling in public whenever possible. The more sickening the display, the better. The only physical contact she’d had with Tony was limited to handshakes and the one time she’d hugged him after the divorce decree was handed down. Yet she couldn’t imagine how they’d practice such a thing, so they’d have to hope they looked natural doing something they’d never done with each other before.

      And then there was the matter of sharing a cottage with one king-size bed in it. She hadn’t figured out how they’d handle the sleeping arrangements, and she’d been too chicken to bring up the subject when she’d discussed the plans with Tony. Maybe there was a couch. Or they could put a rolled blanket down the center of the bed, the way her mother used to divide up the space when her cousin Sherilee had come to spend the night. But Tony wasn’t exactly Sherilee.

      No, he certainly wasn’t. She spotted him strolling down the terminal, an insolent smile on his face. His white T-shirt molded itself lovingly to his muscled chest, and the fit of his jeans was almost indecent. His hair hung rakishly over his forehead, and even his walk was different. Lynn swallowed. Dear Lord, what had she let herself in for? He wasn’t even Tony anymore.

      When he reached her, he dropped his duffel bag to the floor and swept her into his arms. “Hey, baby,” he said in a low voice. Then he kissed her, hard.

      Nearby, somebody whistled in admiration.

      At first, Lynn was too shocked to react, and too fascinated by the feel of Tony’s lips on hers. Finally, she gained enough command of herself to try shoving him away. He didn’t shove very easily.

      “Where are you going, sweet thing?” he asked, holding her fast as he gave her a lazy smile. “Aren’t you glad to see your lover boy?”

      Her heart hammered as she saw the light of desire in his dark eyes. She had to remind herself he was playing a role. “Tony, let go of me. You’re carrying this a bit far. We don’t have to start our act just yet.”

      He rubbed her back, and his hand crept lower, to cup her behind. “Don’t you think we need to warm up to it, baby doll?”

      Damned if he wasn’t turning her on with this macho-stud routine. Aware of several people staring, she spoke through clenched teeth. “Not in the middle of the airport, we don’t.”

      He gave her a wink and a gentle pinch on the bottom. “If you say so, sweetcakes.”

      She stepped away from him, her cheeks hot. “Honestly, Tony.”

      He grinned at her, looking a little more like his normal self. “I thought before we climbed on this bird you might appreciate a sneak preview, in case you wanted to back out of the deal.”

      She adjusted her clothes. “Um, I…no, I don’t want to back out. I just wasn’t expecting…” Damn, she was stammering like a high-school kid СКАЧАТЬ