Ready, Aim...I Do!. Debra & Regan Webb & Black

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      “We’ll get there. I promise.” She swiped her finger in an X over her heart.

      “Not funny.”

      She laughed. “Wasn’t trying to be.”

      He grunted.

      “Come on, Jason. What’s the last thing you remember?”

      “The wig. You were wearing a wig and I made you take it off when we got here.”

      She nearly choked on her coffee. “I meant the last thing you remember before we, ah, hooked up.”

      “You mean before we got married.”

      “I do, yes.” She hadn’t heard the poor choice of words until one of his eyebrows lifted. She stifled a laugh, knowing he wouldn’t remember enough to understand the joke. “You know what I mean.”

      “The bar. I was hanging out in the bar waiting for the contact. I didn’t expect you.”

      “Same goes,” she muttered from behind her coffee cup. “How long had you been there?”

      “A couple of hours. I was nursing a beer, keeping an eye on the odds for the hockey game.”

      “Did you win? I’m up about five hundred dollars since I hit town.”

      “I don’t gamble.”

      “You’re kidding?” Her surprise brought forth another scowl. It amused her. “Well, maybe you don’t gamble with money, but clearly you enjoy some level of risk or you wouldn’t be the golden boy at Mission Recovery.”

      “How do you know that?”

      “Not because you broke protocol and shared anything. I have my own sources.” She rolled her hand, signaling him to continue. “You’re at the bar, watching the scores and odds and then what?”

      She had to wait while he filled his plate with a slice of the omelet and two sausage links. Then he surprised her, bringing over the coffee carafe and refilling her cup.

      “The tequila shot, like I said. The bartender brought it over and said it was from you.”

      “He used my name?”

      “No.” He returned to the table. “He pointed to you at the other end of the bar.”

      “Describe the woman you saw. Please,” she added when he shook his head.

      “Blonde. Emerald dress that matches a certain eye color.”

      “You said she was at the other end of the bar. When did she get close enough that you could see her eyes?”

      He frowned at his plate. “Your eyes are green. The dress matched your eyes.”

      She shouldn’t be flattered that he knew that, but she was. “I was wearing contacts last night.”

      “I noticed. And a blond wig.”

      “Yes.” She was starting to really worry they’d both been set up by someone with too much information.

      “The dress was just like the one you wore in Colorado last month.”

      “You’re sure?” First of all, she would never wear the same outfit in an op she’d worn at a previous engagement. Men could get away with that kind of thing, but not a woman.

      He looked up at her, his expression troubled. “That’s the last thing I remember clearly. I was wondering what you were doing here and wearing that dress. After that the images are like snippets from a dream. I can’t quite hang on to enough to put the pieces together. You walked up and gave me the code phrase for extraction and—”

      “Oh, bloody hell.”

      “What?”

      “We’ve been compromised.” Alone but for her reluctant almost-husband, she gave in to the fidgets and started pacing the length of the room. “Something is dreadfully wrong. Yes, I joined you at the bar, but I didn’t send you the shot. Drugs and sedatives aren’t my style.”

      “Then whose style is it?”

      “I don’t know. No one I’ve been watching would have a reason to drug you.” She pushed her hands through her hair, tugged just a little. “I saw lots of people, including a blonde wearing an emerald dress, who I followed to the bar. But once I got there I was focused on you.” Because that’s all she’d needed to see. She’d let Isely’s unexpected appearance rattle her more than she’d thought. A rattled agent fails and she sure had done so here. She swore, turned on her heel and came up hard against Jason’s chest. He’d walked up right behind her.

      He caught her elbows and held her in place when she might have bounced off of him. “You’ll wear a rut in the carpet.”

      “I don’t care. And, for the record, that green dress wasn’t the one I was wearing the last time you saw me.” There were similarities she had to admit now that she really considered it. It was comparable enough to have a guy thinking it was the same.

      “Who’s your contact? What’s the signal if you need to be pulled out of your mission?” he demanded, dragging her attention back to him.

      “I don’t have a code phrase or a contact.” She pulled herself free of his touch. It was too distracting. “I’ve never needed help.”

      “And yet they sent me to backup and offer an exit strategy for an agent in trouble.”

      “Then they sent you for someone else.”

      Jason frowned. “That’s what my boss said.” This he murmured more to himself than to her. “They sure didn’t send me to get married. Of all the options to get us out of trouble, why did you do this?” He pointed to the ring on his finger.

      “What’s the big deal? Got a girl back home?” She wanted him to take the bait and bypass the bigger problem while she figured out a way to salvage her potentially compromised operation. Instead, she watched the storm brewing in his deep brown eyes.

      “It doesn’t matter.” He turned away. “I wouldn’t believe you anyway. But don’t count on wearing the pants in this happy union, Mrs. Grant.”

      “Call me Gin.”

      He sank back into the chair where she’d draped his sport coat last night. “Now that you have a husband, Mrs. Grant, and I’m him, care to share your next move?”

      Now he was just being stubborn. It seemed a shame to have so much handsome man at her fingertips and not be able to do anything fun with him.

      “I’m here tracking a product and hopefully I’ll get to oversee the sale,” she admitted. “Sexy blondes in Las Vegas are everywhere. I thought it would be a foolproof disguise.”

      “The red is memorable,” he agreed, eyeing her hair. “Too bad I forgot everything after that.”

      His eyes raked her СКАЧАТЬ