Honeymoon With A Stranger. Frances Housden
plastic curtain ballooned, then resettled.
Rosy-cheeked, her head appeared around the edge of the shower curtain.
He hadn’t the heart to tell her that the plastic she was clinging to for protection showed the perfect curve of her breasts with their dusky centers as clearly as if it had been fashioned from glass.
“What are you doing here? Can’t I have a shower in private?”
“This is urgent or I wouldn’t have intruded. There’s a camera….”
“What, in here?” The hem of the curtain skidded across the metal bath as she wrapped it closer. Close enough for him to tell that the hair guarding the apex of her thighs was as brown as the damp strands curling against her cheeks.
“No. It’s on top of the armoire and aimed straight at the bed.” While he watched her take in the information, he kept his eyes fixed on her face. Her panic would only escalate if she looked down and saw the view he had of her nude figure.
“Wonderful, we have a permanent Peeping Tom in the bedroom. We’ll never get away with pretending to be lovers.”
“Yes we will.” He needed to persuade her it was imperative they make the show convincing.
“Look, I’m not saying it will be easy. This bathroom is the only place we can let down our guard. But once they suspect that we’re playacting…”
He paused, wondering how he could put it without alarming her more than he already had. “Wouldn’t you enjoy fooling them?”
Her wet eyelashes were clumped together by small droplets that fell as she nodded emphatically. “I’d like that very much.”
From where she stood their eyes were level at last, but it only served to emphasize how tiny she really was, and make him wonder once more what had made her go into the spy business.
But his momentary lapse into empathy now made him even more blunt. “I’m still the man with the money, they need me. If they discover my deception they’ll probably put it down as a hero complex and laugh it off as some stupid act of valor, it’s a guy thing. But you…?”
He gave it to her straight with the certainty that she wouldn’t thank him for treating her like a child.
He’d been correct. She shook fear by the throat and said, “Come on, Mac, spit it out. They’ll kill me, won’t they?”
Reluctant to load her with more bad news, he bit the inside of his cheek, before deciding that this was one aspect of their incarceration he could share with total honesty.
Hell, she was an experienced agent; she should know the score.
Sure, he’d had a moment’s aberration when he’d kissed her and gained a response, but they both knew that was a no-go area.
There was a rueful quality to the sigh that accompanied the shrug of his shoulders. “I hate to admit it, but there is every chance of them taking that way out.”
Damn, since when had he become so namby-pamby? “Chérie, what other choice have the bad guys got? You’ve seen their faces.”
“So have you.” She did the eye-roll thing, a flash of silver that made him wish he could promise nothing would happen to her, and asked him, “Aren’t you frightened they’ll kill you as well?”
He didn’t want to supplant the hope he saw in her eyes with disillusionment, but he had no other choice.
Once she suspected he wasn’t as crooked as the others—that he was just a guy doing his damnedest to keep America and the rest of the world secure from terrorists—she might let her guard slip, and then it would indeed be curtains for Roxie.
And not the see-through shower type, still giving him an occasional glimpse of her womanly charms to stir memories of having them pressed close against him.
“The unfortunate part, chérie, is that I’m the other half of the deal. If they go down, so do I.”
“I wouldn’t dare identify you, Mac. You saved my life.”
“So you say now, Roxie. You could change your mind.”
He couldn’t afford to forget that facet of the operation. Hell, with his training, he couldn’t believe an agent would put accomplishing her mission ahead of everything they’d been taught.
Of course, Roxie could have stashed some sly tricks up her sleeve. He knew he had.
They would be just another of the many things that she wasn’t about to share with the crook she believed him to be.
How could he tell? It was a like a grab bag. Some were willing to confess to anything to stay safe. And against all odds, the most mild-mannered person could turn into a hero or heroine.
Since that shared kiss, a slim thread of doubt lingered in the back of his mind. If Roxie was who she’d claimed, he was already guilty of corrupting an innocent.
Damn, after only six hours. That would be a record.
“What do you want me to do, Mac?”
“Nothing drastic. I need to discover where the bugs are, but I can’t do that with that camera recording my every move.”
He’d already thought the steps out. “Once you’re somewhat decent, come through and slip into bed. I’ll say I’m turning the light out. After that it will be easy to toss my jacket over the camera and switch the light back on so I can search for bugs.”
She nodded at him, wet curls bouncing on her forehead as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. Yeah, she was an agent. The decision made him feel better.
“Look, even if I find the bugs, they’ll have to stay where they are. I don’t want Zukah or his lackeys suspecting anything other than that we’re content to spend some time together.”
She showed him a wry grimace. “Our so-called honeymoon?”
“That’s it in a nutshell. Are you with me, chérie?”
“Of course. What choice do I have?”
“Couple of days, tops, and we should be out of here. Until then…it will have to be make and mend as we go along.”
“Okay, turn your back and let me get out of the shower.”
“No, hang on a minute.” He pulled out his shirt and began to unfasten it.
“Are you going to have a shower after all?”
“No, I’m going to wet my hair and pretend we’ve shared a shower.” He stripped off his shirt, then turned on the faucet.
The water had just begun to run when Roxie cried, “Ow!”
The faucet spun round in his fingers as he shut it off again. “Sorry, forgot these old-fashioned systems wouldn’t have a pressure equalizer. Did I burn you?”
“Not in any way that counts. The water just turned icy. Let me get out first this time.” She turned around and once more all he could see was a flesh-colored blur, but she’d left him wondering what she meant by saying, Not in any way that counts?
He’d just decided if anyone ended up burned by this arrangement it could be him, when she said, “Shower’s off.”
Mac began running hot water into the basin.
“When I leave here, I’ll make a show of looking through the armoire to see if anything useful has been left in it. Just remember not to look straight at the camera. And no matter what, follow my lead. Act as if you love me.”
He almost told her, The way you did when I kissed you. She didn’t seem to have to put on an act then.
Her mouth had simply flowered under his.
In the mirror he watched his own mouth twist in an expression of grim reality. Until he had Thierry check Roxie